The Handshake

2171 Words5 Pages

The brothers sit across from one another in their dusty kitchen, brooding. Sam is behind his ever present Royal KMG typewriter, absently making keystrokes. His older brother, Willem, makes notes in a writing tablet. The room is almost silent, save the dripping of the faucet. It dribbles a quick tempo and it is clearly distracting Sam. “I truly wish mother had hired a plumber, this noise is insufferable,” Sam utters with burning contempt. Willem responds to his younger brother’s self-indulgent complaint with such patience and reserve as to mock his brother. “Baby brother, surely you could inquire a plumber, if the noise is such a discomfort.” Heavy with satire, he continues; “Speaking honestly, I’ve grown fond of the steady drip drip dripping. It reminds me of happier times, when mother was with us.” Willem smiles to himself upon hearing his own words, as if he’s made a brilliant joke. Willem and Sam’s mother had passed years ago, and yet so little of their lives had changed. They continue living together in their childhood home, which hasn’t seen a mop or broom since before their mother had taken ill. Moth chewed curtains hang in grimy windows, where they have not been broken and covered over. A musty smell of aging wood and dying matriarch makes the air heavy and confining. Newspapers and old notebook sheets bury most of the furniture. The walls and ceilings are rotting, the floors covered in years of dust and freshly crumbled sheets of paper, and forgotten jars line every shelf and counter. Their home is far from happy, and very close indeed to utter collapse. While both brothers could be considered at fault for the state of their once livable home, Sam in particular is quite fond of jarred food and Sunday comics, and is ... ... middle of paper ... ...ck in a pool of blood. Willem sounds almost heartfelt when he says; “You always were one for a show, eh my Brother?” Sitting down in Sam’s chair, Willem digs through a stack of unused pages to find one with as little blood on it as possible. His findings are less than perfect, but he just needs one sheet to complete, finally, his best work to date. Willem feeds the sheet into the Royal and adjusts it until the roll ‘dings,’ signaling him to begin his work. Willem types deliberately, one hard key press at a time. He must type this way, as the hair wrapped around the Royal’s arms has severely hampered his otherwise fine typing skills. Slowly, as blood mixes with ink, words begin to form and a calm smile spreads from cheek to cheek as Willem basks in his final victory: “Taken Without Honor or Humanity – By Willem and Sam Forastiere. A Book of Sharing. Ages 3 and up.”

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