Metaphysical Fiction: Glitches in Reality

[Robert Arvay]

Twilight Mystery
--A Metaphysical Fiction Short-short Story

I had not been feeling well, not at all. From the time that I woke up, I considered not going in to work that day. I asked my sleeping housewife if she was feeling well, but she groggily said to me, “Don’t be late for work,” and fell back asleep. Okay, I’ll try. Anything for you, my sweet.

Feeling as though lead were in my veins, I rolled out of bed, hoping that a shower would make me feel better. It did not, but I decided to tough it out anyway, at least long enough to show up in the workplace, and beg off there, instead of on the phone, just to show that I had tried. I still had time to stop at the fast-food drive-through to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee, as was my usual custom, although I had to drive faster than usual, to make it to work on time.

Somehow, I struggled through the day, and by quitting time, I actually did feel well enough to look forward to my wife’s cooking. She always had a nice meal waiting for me when I got home.

But then, strange things began to happen—very strange things. I left the building, only to find the parking lot empty, except for my car. I wondered at that a bit, but my brain seemed a bit fogged from whatever ailment I had awakened to that morning, and I shrugged it off.

Then, as I left the parking lot, another strange thing happened—I got lost. Yes, I had taken the same route home, every work-day for the past three years, but now nothing looked familiar. I felt a slight panic, but I stubbornly drove onward, knowing that I could not possibly be completely lost, at least not so soon.

To my great relief, I soon found myself on a familiar road, the one that led to my house, but more strange things continued to happen. Off in the distance, I saw a car pull out of my driveway, and I could not help but notice that it was the same as my car, the same make, model, year and color. Odd, I thought, because my car had been repainted to an off-color the previous year, and the car I saw was that same unusual color.

The mystery car drove right past me, as if in a hurry, so that I did not get a good look at the driver. Many a husband might have felt a tinge of suspicion by now, but I knew better than that, although hey, thoughts do cross one’s mind. If such thinking did occur to me, however, it was soon to be put to rest, as I knew it would be. You need to know that, because of what happened next.

I turned into my driveway, tossed a grease pen onto the console that I had forgotten to put back in my work space, and went inside the house, expecting to see my wife setting the supper table. She wasn’t there. Nor was I greeted by the expected aroma of a nice meal. The house was eerily quiet. I worried. Was she okay?

Shedding my coat, I walked into the bedroom, and saw that my wife was sound asleep in her bedclothes, just as I had left her at seven that morning. I thought maybe she was as ill as I had been, and alarmed by this, I gently shook her shoulder. She was very groggy, and her face was puffy, as it usually was first thing in the morning. She lifted herself up on one elbow, looked at the alarm clock, and said half-consciously, “Don’t be late for work.” Then she fell back asleep.

I was about to tell her that it was now six P.M., afternoon, not morning, when I glanced over her at the clock. It said seven, and not seven P.M., but seven A.M. on its LED display. Reflexively, I looked at my wristwatch. It, also, said seven, not six. How could my wristwatch say seven?

Confused, I quickly went to the living room to check the clock there, just to make triple sure, and it, too, registered seven, not six, despite what time I thought it should be.

Then, through the window, I saw that same odd-colored car that I had seen pull out of my driveway, and now, it came back into my driveway. Quickly, I ran back again out the door to see who was the driver, but even though only a second or two had elapsed, the car was gone, nowhere to be seen, despite the road being quite long in both directions, with no corners or obstructions for quite a distance. For whatever reason, perhaps just to make sure, I looked in my own car, identical to the strange one. I saw the grease pen on the console, precisely where it had landed when I tossed it there.

I thought that all these events were quite strange, but there were yet two more surprises in store for me. Confused by all this, I went again into my house, and upon entering, I saw my wife in her usual daytime house-clothes, setting the supper table. She greeted me with a smile, with no puffiness on her face, and asked, “Did you get to work on time?”

The clocks, including my wristwatch, now all registered six.
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[DandelionSoul]

This story needs an introduction by Rod Serling. ^_^