A Ceiling Full of Invisable Bats   (Part 2 of 4)

Throwing back the moth bitten covers Charlie got slowly to his feet with a weary sigh that was echoed by the groaning of the warped floor boards.    
"Mortimer have you seen my uniform?" Charlie questioned with his back turned to his unbalanced little friend as Mortimer leaned precariously over the edge of the dresser.    
     
"Why yes Charles... infact it's in the drawer of the wardrobe, I pressed and cleaned it especially for you."Mortimer's good eye swiveled about the room drunkenly while the other settled on Charlie's back watching him cross the distance to the old wardrobe in the corner of the room, as the floor boards to let out another squeal of protest under each foot fall.    
     
"I even managed to get the blood stains out Charles." Mortimer rasped through the bear trap full of minced meat that served as his face, his fish hook grin and crazed twisting eyes the only parts that did not look like a Frankenstein colaboration of road kill pieces.    
     
"It was ketchup Mortimer I told you that before remember..." Charlie reminded without looking up as he delved into the drawer of the wardrobe.    
     
"But of course Charles... how silly of me to have forgotten." Mortimer paused momentarily leaning out a little further into the void of space between him and the floor from the top of the rickety dresser.    
     
The bottom three drawers were missing and something had taken a great deal of time trying to gnaw off one of the front legs, adding to it's instability.    
Charlie had long since suspected that it may have been Mortimer in a fit of boredom.    
     
"it's fine Mortimer, don't worry about it." Charlie muttered pulling on the crisp white shirt of his uniform and slowly running his fingers through his wirey flaxen hair smoothing it down, it curled slightly behind his ears.    
     
Charlie finished pulling on his uniform and turned, for a second his pale green eyes caught on the crooked window frame the small flecks of broken glass reflecting the morning sunlight, slightly drab and listless even as it seemed to hang tiredly in the sky above the other houses.    
     
For a few seconds as Charlie stood in the doorway his hand resting against the frame of splintering wood he tried to bring up a memory of a time... Before.    
     
The thought slithered through his mind like a jail house soap bar, impossible to grasp. But before what?    
Mortimer... This house, the shattered window and rotting wood smell.    
Before the milk truck, his uniform and... The thought trailed off leaving the only the ever present stagnace of the house and this room, that even the harsh wind never dared to enter.






Written and published by A Nameless Traveler A.K.A - Andrew F. R. Kerklaan and Keys_and_Gloves