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Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt. His hand reached blindly to his right, his fingers ran over the wood grain of his desk towards the vibration. There was a spot of wetness, then the cold metal of his glasses. His hand continued to sweep blindly to the right. He felt his marble coaster, the familiar round shape and smooth surface. The sweaty glass perched on it hung precariously over the side. The glass felt more than halfway off. He grabbed it and lowered it beneath the desk. His head was down in the crook of his arm. His tongue, feeling sticky and large, parted his lips and caused an involuntary swallow. He raised it slowly to his face. His mouth opened and closed, searching for the straw he knew was there.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.


The vibration returned, he could feel it through the desk as his mouth and hand tried to work in tandem to hydrate him. He pushed his tongue out trying to find that stupid straw. He sighed and lifted his head and opened his eyes. The glare of the computer screen made him wince and his left arm came up and rubbed his eyes. He continued searching for the straw, trying not to think about how stupid he looked. Like a newborn trying to latch on their mother’s teat. He closed his mouth with a grunt, pushing air out of his nostrils. He cracked one bleary eye open and looked at his glass. No straw. Ha ha. He frowned and drained the pale green liquid in a single gulp. Tepid soda, flat and thick, filled his mouth and quenched his thirst while somehow making his tongue feel drier after he swallowed the last of it. He set the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

With one eye still closed, he reached behind the laptop and shut it with a quick motion. He felt the air rush out from underneath the screen as it connected with the keyboard. He knew that was probably unnecessary but he was very annoyed with himself. He only turned the brightness that high when was trying to stay awake and finish what he was working on. Articles were everywhere warning about the dangers bright screens had on sleep cycles.

“If they are so dangerous, why did I pass out?” He said to no one.

He wondered why his phone wasn’t going off again. Then it hit him. He had set it to not to disturb him. He was on day two of what was going to be a long coding session. He had finally figured a way around the roadblock that had tormented him for the past week. He had found the workaround on some message board on the 8th or 9th page of a web search. It was long and tedious but if it was right, he would solve his problem and he could move forward with his improvements to the application. This was all coming back as his brain continued to boot up.

He blinked a few times and looked into the gloom. He couldn’t see much of his room. This wasn’t due to the darkness he sat in, nor the fact that his eyes were adjusting to it. There wasn’t much to see. He knew there were stacks of boxes and bins all around him. Some were smaller, about the size that contained comic books, all bagged and boarded. Others were larger and they contained magazines, newspapers and photograph binders. The binders had belonged to his father. The smaller boxes were all in here and most of the stacks were three or four boxes tall. The larger boxes and bins inhabited the rest of the house. He felt safe among the boxes. His house was lined with them. He knew that. It was by design.

“Yeah, it’s not dirty…it’s just…occupied.” He said aloud.

He stood up and stretched. He did not have much room to move so he simply went up. He extended his feet and stood on his tip toes. He pushed his shoulders down and he could feel the muscles lengthen with a burning sensation. He heard his knees pop and a few places on his back crack. He winced a little at this sound. He put his arms into the walkway in front of him that led to the door. The was a small passage to the right that led to his bed. He weaved his hands together and cracked most of his knuckles. He rocked his head from side to side and felt his neck pop. He turned back to his desk. The world was still blurry. His hand reached down, fingers gliding across the top of the desk. He found his glasses quickly and put them on.

“Ah, much better.” He said.

The desk was a decent size. Now that his eyes adjusted to the gloom and the faint bits of light coming from the curtains and under the door, he could see much better. He could make out a large lamp that took up a good size of the desk. He knew the desk was a light brown, rescued from the front of a house not too far from here. He had seen it languishing in the sun that morning and was able to load it into his car when he put the back seats down. He did have to leave the trunk open but he was able to get it home.

“Saved you from the dumpster!” He said and rapped on the desk.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. If he had his phone set to Do Not Disturb, why did it vibrate at all? He felt sweaty.  His mind started racing through possibilities. He didn’t set any alarms. Those silver/amber alerts only go off once…didn’t they? His mind was dancing away from the one possibility it knew to avoid.

“The front door…” He said aloud, his voice filled with dread. 


The doorbell camera had been installed for a while now and it changed the game for him. No more peeking through windows or worrying about noises outside. Now he had evidence. He couldn’t put all the cameras he wanted outside his house, it would draw too much attention. But the doorbell camera was becoming the norm and he was grateful for it. He looked back at his desk. He located his smartphone and picked it up in his clammy hand. The app had a notification on it and he felt flush.

“Crud…” He said nervously.

He absently wiped his hand on his jeans and opened the app with this thumb. He clicked on the history button and played the most recent video. The screen was filled with the brilliance of the outdoors which made him wince. He quickly brought up the phones settings with a flick of his finger. He lowered the brightness and brought the video back up. It was only 10 seconds. The video showed his small front porch that had nothing adorning it. A person walked into frame and set a small brown package down. They kept their head down the entire time. They wore a t-shirt and jeans. Their head was covered by a black baseball cap. They had on a bright blue disposable mask over their face. Their eyes were covered with aviator sunglasses. Each new detail registered great anxiety in his brain. He had no idea who this person was, nor what was in that box. He kept meticulous track of anything he had ordered so he could prepare for its sanitation before being brought inside.


“You’re not one of mine.” He said softly.

He definitely didn’t order this package. He played the video another couple times, focusing solely on how the courier had set it down. It could be anything. It didn’t look particularly heavy or light. The courier didn’t give any sign in one direction or the other. He decided he needed a closer look.

“Crud.” He said, voice tinged with annoyance.


He opened the door to his room and quickly walked down the pathway of boxes, making his way to the front door. He stopped and snatched up a disposable mask from the stack of bins by the door. He affixed it to his face, unlocked his various dead bolts and chain locks. He cracked the door open. Using a spray bottle he kept by the door, he sprayed down the package. He grabbed it in his free hand and withdrew into his house. He shut the door and put the package down. It was a box wrapped in brown paper .Once the final lock had clicked into place he turned the package and regarded it wearily. An idea struck him and he began to smile.

This had to be Squelp. This screamed Squelp. He and Squelp had entered into a friendly exchange on the message boards regarding Xbox vs Playstation. The two of them posted for days about processing speed, game quality, title exclusivity, all of it. Then one day his email inbox was overflowing with spam. The deluge had gotten past his filters. When he logged into the boards to talk about it, there was Squelp, asking him if he’d gotten any interesting offers. He had returned the favor by making Squelp’s message boxes pink. This had the be the next escalation. Squelp had posted a video with people receiving mysterious boxes and when they opened them, it would activate a mechanism that would send glitter everywhere and release stink bombs that would make the receiver gag. There were also cameras in the package that recorded everything and immediately uploaded it. So even if the box were damaged or abandoned, the recordings wouldn’t be lost.


A smile crept across his face. He would turn this around on Squelp. With the package firmly in one hand, he navigated his way to the kitchen. Much like every other place in his home, boxes and plastic bins were stacked high. They were on the floors and the counters. He paid them no mind, moving easily among them. A thought gnawed at him but he pushed it away, so intent on carrying out his idea. He reached the sink quickly. It was a double sink, with a garbage disposal on the right and a larger sink with a stopper to the left. It was stainless steel, the hole on the right lined with black rubber. The one on the left already had the stopper in it as pans were soaking inside. He moved the pans from the left to the right and filled up the sink. Once it was nearly full, he placed the package in and it quickly sank to the bottom. He grinned. He’d film his unboxing of the package and load it on the message board. THAT would show him.


A series of knocks interrupted his day dream. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He heard muffled sounds from the direction of his front door. The notification on his phone said something had been detected on the front porch. He stood stock still. He waited for the knocking to stop and muffled voice to quiet. He opened the app on his phone. There were a few notifications, the machine records in 10 second chunks per his settings. He opened the first recording. It was his neighbor. A grey haired man, wearing a red polo shirt and khaki shorts. His voice sounded distressed.

“Hello! Sir! I think you have a package of mine! It was delivered to you by accident!”


Eric stopped the video and looked at the submerged package. He had one thought.

“Crud.”

The thought that was nagging him when he entered the kitchen returned. How would Squelp know where he lived? He felt sweaty all over. His hands were clammy again. He sighed deeply. Then he shut off his phone and went to bed.