Fiction: Un monstre

Cette semaine le défi de fiction courte de Chuck Wendig était de créer un monstre. Pas un vampire, pas un Frankenstein, mais notre propre monstre. Il nous disait de le nommer (je ne le fais pas expressément, mais des monstres comme celui de mon histoire ou presque, j’en ai connu quelques-uns, déjà, et en mon for intérieur je les nomme, ça vous pouvez en être certains!), de l’imaginer dans son environnement, de lui donner vie. Mon monstre n’a pas une apparrence effrayante, mais il est sournois et ne peut être combattu ouvertement.


UNDER MY SKIN

That glass isn’t even clean! What’s the matter with you? You can’t even do one tiny little thing right in a whole day of mishaps? Oh I mean sure, at least you didn’t break that one like you did with the others last week. How many was it – three? And who’s even counting how many it’s been this year, huh? Ah but of course no one else does the dishes much, huh? It’s all on poor little you. Just like generations of women before you, only they didn’t all have hot running water and the luxury to bitch about it, to think such work was beneath them.

Really, you want to use that tone with the children? I thought having children was what you’d most wanted in life, since you were little, and nothing and no one would get in the way? Whatever happened to that, once you had them all your principles flew