One Thousand Word Challenge 72: Accosted

On lunch so it’s time for a bit of a verbal spewing to see what happens. Don’t expect anything good out of this one. Well, don’t expect anything out of this one. I don’t know how this will all turn out and I don’t think it will turn out well. It likely will be more of a mess than usual. but of course there is only one way to find out, so here we go!

So anyway, I was walking down the street when all of a sudden I was accosted. I do not know as to why I was accosted or how someone was able to accost me, for there was no person around. There was no one around. Not even a two around. There was just no way that it could happen, but it did and I was there and I was in the process of being accosted for some thing, of which I found to be an affront to my not wanting to be accosted.

So I say, I tell this fellow “Hey, I do not want to be accosted. I do not  appreciate being accosted. There was no one around here, so where did you come from in order for you to be able to be accosting me? I find this to be an affront to my not wanting to be accosted, so please stop, and verily so”, to which the fellow replied “You do not want to be accosted? You don’t appreciate the effort in which I have gone through to in order to accost you? You do not appreciate that I was nowhere and then suddenly here, thus existing at this particular place and time in order to accost you? You consider the art of accosting an affront to your desire to not be accosted? Well then, so be it”, and then promptly vanished, though now with any trickery or effects. Just suddenly gone.

I did not know as to what to make of this scenario, but certainly it had a bit of a flavour of oddness to it, but of course seeing as there was no harm done, I just kept on going about on my day. It seemed all okay. There was a clear sky, the buildings kept on rolling past as I walked down the street. I was feeling rather merry and free, almost as though I could feel the gently caressing breeze against my skin. It just overall was a pleasant day. No worries and nothing wrong. No harm done.

Still, the event was gently gnawing at my thoughts. It completely caught be off-guard and that was something I also did not appreciate. If someone was going to go through all of the effort to appear from nowhere in order to engage in the act of accosting someone, though with no specifics regarding what it was that they desired, then… well, why? Why would they accept their defeat so quickly and humbly, and then disappear without a trace? Why would all of this happen?

There was no ribaldry between the accoster and I; nor was there any seeming sense of ill ill. Their intentions remained unclear to me and no amount of thought could decipher the riddle in which I was now finding myself trying to form in my own mind in order to seek out an answer that would explain the whole thing.

Why was there no one around to bear witness to the spectacle? I could not explain this either, though it was likely that there just so happened to be a distinct lack of people within the vicinity that would be able to see what happened due the the lack of people in the vicinity, thus creating a situation where no one would be able to bear witness to the spectacle that occurred between myself and a person who appeared from nowhere.

Who was this person? Were they someone from my past and I just did not recognise? Were they someone who wanted to examine me before making a decision that they needed to make based on who I was and who I happen to be? were they anyone at all, or was this just my imagination deciding that it would be a good time to conjure up some sort of situation where I was to be accosted and thus challenged on how far I will go to defend my desires? Were they even looking to accost me? Is it possible that they had the wrong person, thus that being the reason as to why they were so willing to leave?

The more I thought about the whole thing, the less it seemed to make sense and as such I was only left wanting to forget about the whole situation, which of course I was not quite able to due to its nature of being something that I found incredibly odd and disruptive to anything resembling a sense of flow for the day. The harmony in which I had engaged was disrupted then and there. Whilst I was able to continue, the thread was snapped and thus what I had was no longer able to return to me.  Sure, the day was pleasant, but it was not as it was prior to the event that occurred that caused the breaking in the flow.

As such I decided that perhaps it would be better if instead of continuing about my business I headed on home, and considered the act of starting again tomorrow something far more feasible. Of course I could still enjoy the caressing breeze on my way home and that allowed some sort of calm and relaxation that I certainly was appreciating.

I soon found myself on quick approach to the front door of the residence within which I reside. Once at the front door I put my hand into my pocket to get my keys. However, neither the pocket, nor the keys were there. I looked down, and upon realisation I thusly proclaimed “My pants!”

The time it took to write one thousand words: 13:08:46

Well, this turned out to be a thing.
I like the narrative going on. Also the silliness of what I wrote.
Could be much smoother in places.

Written at home.

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
This entry was posted in Fiction and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.