Utter and Complete Boredom

He set the guitar down after his fifth play-through in a row.  He figured that if he didn't have the song down by that point, it wasn't going to get any better.  Besides, his fingers hurt and his arm was cramping up.  He really needed to start to practicing more regularly . . . or to start doing more upper body workouts.

After settling back in his chair and turning his attention back to the movie he had started before he had even thought about playing his guitar, he quickly realized why he hadn't really watched movies in a while . . . he simply didn't have the attention span.  It had nothing to do with the movies being boring and only a little to do with the fact that he had seen them all multiple times.  It was actually because after about five minutes, he had already watched the entire movie in his head.  What was the point of spending two more hours watching it again?

He waited a few minutes watching another extra getting killed by the terrifying almost-human monsters . . . aaand . . . cue explosion.

He reached down and picked his guitar back up.  Maybe he'd practice just a little more.

That's when he realized that the only reason he had actually been practicing so much that day was because he was SO bored.  He had tried several movies and watched a few episodes of some TV shows online.  He even watched a few of them legally.  But they didn't change the fact that he was tired of just sitting there.  He wanted to do something.  Anything!

But here he was, stuck sitting in this chair doing nothing.  Doctor's orders.  Lame.

He flexed the muscles in his arm, thumbed the callouses of his left hand, and set the guitar back down.  There was no way he could play through the entire song again without more of a break.

So he closed his eyes.

The distinct smell of pine filled his nostrils and brought him back to reality.  He looked around to make sure his team was still with him.

Three out of five . . . not bad.  It was better than anyone else had done in the Forest of Diri.

"Alright, boys," he said in a commanding tone.  "Let's get what we came for and get out."

His troops nodded.  "Yes, Captain Paschar."

The young captain still wasn't entirely comfortable with his new title.  After only a week in command, he still flinched every time it came before his name.

"Alright.  You two," said Paschar, pointing to two of his men who looked at each other reluctantly, "head that way.  Shout if you hear anything.  Carmine, you're with me."  Carmine gave his two companions a knowing look as they walked in opposite directions.  They all knew what had happened to the last pair to leave the group, but what choice did they have?  They couldn't leave now without completing their mission, and there was no way they could find the lance before nightfall if they stayed together.

It didn't take long before the captain couldn't hear his men's footsteps anymore.  He and Carmine walked in silence, hoping to high heaven they wouldn't hear anything other than each other.  Paschar closed his eyes to listen closely.  Two sets of footsteps.  Good.

As they walked deeper into the forest, it started to get darker.  It didn't take long before he couldn't see his companion anymore.  He started to rely on his hearing even more than before.

Two sets of footsteps.  Good.

They walked for another ten minutes with no events.  Paschar bumped into a couple of trees, but either Carmine didn't notice, or decided it wasn't his place to say anything about it.  There was a brief moment where he felt sure his were the only steps he could hear, but a minute later, he heard a second set again and relaxed.  Two sets.  Good.

"Up ahead," Captain Paschar said suddenly.  "There's a light!  We must be getting close!  Let's pick up the pace."

The captain began to walk faster.  Based on the sound of his companion's steps, Carmine had sped up to stay with him.  They reached the very edge of the light, and Paschar turned to offer Carmine a reassuring smile, but still couldn't quite make out his face.  Hopefully he still got the message.

The captain walked fully into the light and stretched his arms out, hoping to soak up as much of it as possible.  He turned to see how Carmine was doing and looked into the incredibly calm face . . . of a man who was definitely not Carmine.  The man had white hair, small beady eyes, and wore flowing brown robes.  He smiled eerily at the captain.  "Hello," he said pleasantly.

Paschar drew his gun with a swiftness hard-wired into him by hundreds of hours of training.  The man didn't react to the weapon.  In fact, he didn't seem to notice it at all.  "Where's Carmine?"  Paschar asked furiously.

The man looked puzzled.  "Where's what?"

The captain shouted spitefully.  "Carmine!  Where is he?"

"Do you mean that oddly red man?"

It was Paschar's turn to look puzzled.  "What?"

"The one who was following you," the man said innocently, "had a very red aura.  Somewhat T-shaped now that I think about . . . "

"I don't care about auras," the captain shouted.  "Just tell me where he is, who you are, and what you want with us."

The man crossed his arms, stroked his chin, and smiled again.  "He is safe . . . or at least, safer than you.  As for who I am . . . that's complicated.  I believe your people call me Diri.  And what do I want with you?  Well, to be frank, I want you out of me."

The captain lowered his gun slightly.  "What . . . what are you?"

The man smiled.  "I told you.  I'm Diri.  And I'll tell you once more:  I want you out of me.  Now!"  The man's face was suddenly furious and the forest seemed to darken again.

The captain heard a voice shouting in the distance, "I'm home!"

He opened his eyes.

Instinctively, he paused the movie, though he wasn't entirely sure why.  It seemed like the right thing to do to reassure his roommate that it was ok to talk to him.  Anything was better than just sitting there.

He was SO bored, after all.