The Fittest: Chapter One

Trying to catch up on my word count for NaNo. I'm still a few days behind and somehow I always end up writing something entirely different than what I was expecting to. This story takes place much later than "Day 1" as I found myself largely unable to write the fallout that should follow.It's more about nailing the character down than anything.

Brad's alarm clock clicked on at ten o'clock in the morning. He rolled over and ignored it until the CD cycled through twice and his favorite song came on. He dragged himself out of bed, rubbed his eyes and peered through the curtains blacking his windows out without really seeing the street beyond. He joined the singer in the chorus of the song and it got his blood pumping enough that he joined in with an expertly executed air guitar solo.

He checked himself out in the cracked, full length mirror. He flexed and winked and danced and played it up to an invisible audience. He even went so far as to do his sexiest reverse strip tease, obscenely rocking his hips as he pulled a mostly clean t-shirt over his head.

The song ended while he pulled his boots on and when he finished, he lofted a sneaker at the alarm clock to shut it up. It missed the buttons entirely, but struck hard enough to knock the appliance off the night stand, cutting the music anyway. “Close enough,” he grinned, pumping his fist once in celebration.

The banister creaked at the top of the stairs as Brad sat down on it, but he zipped downward without any further noise until his boots smashed into the floor below. The floor was covered in months old drywall dust from when he'd secured the windows. Shafts of sunlight caught the floating dust as Brad walked through it. The thought of cleaning up did not cross his mind.

The pantry was down to a single layer of canned goods and when he opened the fridge, he found that he could see not only the back, but most of the shelves as well. He popped open a can of chicken noodle soup and hopped up on the counter to slurp it down cold. Laziness was the only reason he did not heat it first, as he had a fully functional microwave, stove, and hot plate. He balanced his phone on one knee so that he could scan the local message board listings for potential jobs.

One poster wanted help repairing a fence and consequently, wanted someone to round up the chickens that had escaped. He accepted the job immediately with the hopes that 'chase a chicken' could at long last be crossed off his to-do list.