Couch Potato

It had been an extraordinarily long day for Gary. Much, much longer than any previous day. Gary was tired, so much more tired than he had been on any previously long day he had had. I should sleep well tonight, Gary thought to himself as he sat down. Sinking deeply into his well-worn plush recliner, his thoughts echoed: I should sleep.

Eventually, Gary began to ruminate on the hard work he had done and reasoned that he had earned himself a little treat. Just a small thing to cap the day, he told himself. However, as he was about to stand, his arm accidentally and without need knocked the TV remote to the ground. The impact ignited the screen before him, shocking him back down into his seat and stealing his attention.

A cat. A kitten. Innocence incarnate. Gary stared as the little guy clumsily plodded toward an older feline friend. Suddenly, and without need, it was thwacked across its poor little face and stomped down, resolutely. I am just like that cute little guy, Gary said to himself, forgetting all about his well-deserved little treat. In fact, he forgot he was ever tired to begin with, as the flickering light stole the shadow from beneath his eyes.

Reflecting on the kitten’s plodding little paws with an idiotic grin, Gary slowly, stealthily, sunk deeper and deeper into his black, shiny leather recliner. There, beyond the softly mewing machine’s gaze, a pale tendril tenderly unfurled about his trouser leg. A pulsing pink root, directly connected to Gary’s heart, slowly probed for something, something seeping from his soul. Soil. Light. Connection.

Purring around Gary’s ankles, the tendril slithered in and out between his feet. Gary laughed as the tendril writhed against his soles. The screen swapped silly cats for human stupidity. Ha ha, comedy gold! Now that is funny. Surely nobody's that stupid. Gary looked around instinctively, only to find the empty walls emptier than he remembered. The root slid around Gary’s wrist and began to pull insistently.

Suddenly, from the screen, a flash! A bang! A sound-bite newsreel screeched, “They’re out to get you!” Gary wrung his hands and clutched his chest. The shock hit the tendril like a salted slug. It thrashed, it shriveled, then fell still. Gary’s pulse kicked in his throat. As long as I stay here, he whispered, I’m safe. But already, another tendril was sneaking out into the darkness.

Time stole hours as more and more tendrils extended from Gary’s core. They creeped along dusty skirting boards and stretched up dark walls. The edges of the screen began to blur with the room, just as Gary’s senses blurred with the darkness. Gary blinked, or he thought he did, he blinked again, but the glare of the screen burned through the back of his eyelids. He tried to shift in his chair, but every movement felt like dry starch between brittle joints.

Sensing Gary’s emptiness, the screen performed empathy. In an uncanny imitation of care, soulless faces twisted into smooth-skinned smiles. Through the static, a voice full of empty kindness emerged.

“Do you feel stuck in life?”

Slowly, a thick root slid out from the headrest. Gary felt his heart leap into his throat, though his limbs stayed strangely still. Something inside him wanted to move, but couldn’t remember how.

“Tied down with no room to grow?”

He felt the root gently brush past his cheek as it wrapped snugly around his neck and pulse with warmth.

“Sign up for our online course!”

The root nudged him softly, slowly twisting his gaze away from the screen, like a mother lifting a child’s chin.

“Freedom is merely 1 step away.”