Keeping it going....

A friend of mine recently sent me this IM:  

"come on andrew, lets keep up the posting on voltronx, i have an assignment for you today. Write a 1000 word short story inspired by this picture...http://www.powerhousemuseum.com/freeradicals/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/preganant-man-and-electrotherapeutic-device-006.jpg  "

What a cool friend!  A challenge!  So, without further ado, here it is:

The Baby 

The cheap radio clock that he had won at that stupid fair last year read "5:34 AM" in oversized red letters.  It was almost as if the clock was daring him to try and sleep.  "Come on, you've been watching me since I read 3:00 AM buddy, your 2 hours and 34 minutes in, you can't win" he imagined the clock saying to him.  "Fuck you clock" he said outloud to himself, and part of him hoped the clock was a little put off by the comment.  But he knew he couldn't sleep, not now, not today, not with so much riding on the line.  

He thought for a minute about everything he had done to get to this point and it made him a little weary.  Had he thought of everything?  Were his calculations, and in some cases guesstimations, correct?  This was no ordinary procedure and it was unprecedented to be using himself as a test subject.  But then again, how many guys would nominate themselves to be impregnated and to carry a baby to term?  Not many...even for the $15 dollar a month fee he was willing to pay them with the money he had left over from his first grant.  But none of that really mattered now, he was far beyond that point.  It was his cross to bare, and he had to prove to the world, no, he had to prove to her, that it could be done.

"5:37 AM" the clock read, and he decided it was time to forget sleep.

He put both arms behind him, and begun to push himself up and out of the bed.  He had had to do this type of manuevering for the last 3 months and while it was easier for him to do, it still never felt quite right.  As he stood, his right arm instinctivly went to carass his lower back to ease the aching, he had taken to calling this "morning atrophy", but no one seemed to find that as humorous as he did.  He had made it about 4 steps away from the shower when his cell phone started playing the theme song to the flintsontes cartoon, he loved that ring tone, it reminded him of another time.  He walked back towards the nightstand it was resting on and picked it up.  The phone was "old" by this point, a Nokia he had gotten for free 5 years ago, and even though everyone told him to upgrade he chose not to - it did exactly what he needed it to.  

"This is Tom" he said in an odd voice, trying to make it sound like he had just woken up, even though he'd been awake all night.  "Tom, its Charles, I think something is wrong..." a young and concerned voice squaked back though the Nokia.  "I don't have time for problems Charles, so either your messing with me which is not funny, or your being serious which is catastrophic" Tom said back, now rubbing his belly with great anixety.  "This is it Charles - this is our actual last chance to save humanity.  If this doesn't work, and with no women anymore, we're over Charles.  We're extinct - do you get it?" Tom was agitated now, and the tone of his voice had taken on a much darker tone.  
"Don't talk to me about the stakes Tom, I've been with you for too long to be treated like one of your new assistants.  Just get down here, then you'll understand everything".

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The conclusion to come in a blog post tomorrow or tonight, right now its back to real work for me!