Short Story

Mason is thirty-eight.  He quit his mediocre job today.

On March 15, Mason began his day like every other day he had lived since his twenty-fifth birthday, exactly thirteen years before.

6:04 AM
The alarm clock rang out at a volume that could've woken Medusa's victims back from their stony deaths.  The beeping didn't wake Mason though.  Red-eyed and indifferent, he rolled over. Again. He hadn't slept since he woke up two days before, on Monday morning.

6:56 AM
The smell of exhaust fumes overpowered his new car's smell, filling the typical two-car garage, bordered by shelving units too full of "once-a-year" decorations and toys. His finger applied pressure to the button in his car, opening the only barrier he had to hide behind from the cold morning in suburban New Jersey.

7:35 AM
Scrambling to find the projections he had worked so earnestly on for the company's next semester, he slammed his office door.
"Mr. Davis? I have your cof-" called out the intern as Mason rushed past, almost knocking the double shot, extra black expresso coffee from the quaint coffee shop three blocks away from his skyscraper, all over the twenty two year old's jacket.

7:45 AM
Mason rolled his head back, thinking of anything but this infinite meeting.
"Davis, the projections?" demanded Gideon, Mason's slightly overweight powerhouse of a boss.
"Davis. Where's your folder?" 
Mason snapped back to reality, "Wha- I have it right here," he stated handing the folder to Gideon.
Gideon continued, "Now looking into the next couple of months..." Mason's mind drifted again.  "Davis, what in the living hell is this?" Mason looked up confused.  "This looks like a third grade "computer's class" project.  What have you been doing for the past 5 weeks? I can't use this shit." Gideon threw the folder across the table in disgust, allowing some sheets to spread apart.  
Mason stood up with the same sort of sad look of indifference he wore so often, looked over the boardroom table, picked up his folder, and said, "You know, Gideon, I think I'll take a break now." And Mason walked out of the boardroom.

8:23 AM
I should get Janie and we can go for a fun trip... We haven't in so long... Yes, that's what we'll do. Mason drove into his driveway, opened the garage door, and pulled in.  But Janie's car wasn't there, and he remembered that she had gone away on a trip of her own with some ladies from the store next door to hers on main street. I can't just leave her without telling her anything.  Can I? I'd feel terrible. Should I call? No, those ladies get grumpy around men... them being single 45 year old women.  A note. That'll do it. On his kitchen counter, Mason left the note:
Dearest Janie,
Don't worry, my darling.  I'm just going on a quick trip for a couple of days.  I might even beat you home. I can't find my cell phone, so it will be useless to call me.  If I don't beat you back, I hope your trip was the most fun you've had in awhile and that your new friends won't take you from me too much.  You know I love you more than anything, hence my note.  You're the only woman for me, I'll love you always.

Mason

And with that, Mason picked up his keys and left the house.  

Coasting down the highway, Mason passed into Pennsylvania in what seemed like a record time.  Oh poor Janie, she'll be worried sick.  I should have waited and brought her. My love. He fretted over her day and night, not meaning to be overbearing, but out of compassion.  He really didn't have anyone else that he loved as much as he loved her anymore. Although Mason was sure she was okay and knew that she'd be okay even if he wasn't there, he couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her again. 
He pulled over, glancing at the clock, 12:35 PM.  Four hours away from home, he figured, was too far to go back, as he might as well just keep on his adventure.  He drove and drove and drove.
He drove for so long, that the sun began to set.  Because he had nowhere to sleep, he found himself wandering into a little gas station some ways outside of Pittsburgh to purchase a cup of coffee or two to keep him going.  
The little station had a counter in the back, with two coffee machines on it, up against the wall. "Caffeinated" "Decaffeinated".  Mason almost leapt towards the machine on the right labeled "Caffeinated". Pressing the button, in hopes of releasing the black flow of coffee, the machine sputtered and spat out about one fourth cup.  
Walking to the clerk at the register, on the other side of the store, Mason requested, "Hey... So you're out of coffee, and I would really love to buy a cup, is there a way you could make more?" The clerk was probably nineteen, with what looked like a week's worth of awkward, patchy facial hair coating his lower face.  His dull blonde hair was curly and messy, hanging just below his chin.  He smelled of a funky cologne and yet despite his awkward appearance, had bright blue eyes which sparkled when his voice rang out in a distinct tenor, "Oyyyyeeeee! My bad! I had no idea that even ever needed refilling, it's always full when I get here!" He hopped over the counter separating the two.  "Just follow me, I'm a pro at this kind of stuff!" Mason was surprised by his enthusiasm, but was also mostly just relieved to be getting some energy in his near lifeless body.  "So I was hanging out with my friend today, and he was telling me about his weekend, and he met some guy who was really quite a strange guy but he was cool because he was chilling with his friend Dylan..." Mason's mind wandered again, whilst the cashier started the coffee machine, "... my buddy some cool stuff- oh hey, this is gonna take a little while, want to chill in the back with me?"
"Uhm, sure, if the coffee'll take a bit, I might as well." Mason replied.
The two made their way into the dingy backroom, where it was obvious that the boy had attempted to entertain himself by the sprawled nature of all his belongings.  
"So like I was telling you, Dylan gave my buddy this cool stuff, that you smoke I guess? He said it was a real fun thing! Want to try it with me?" He asked innocently.  Despite the kid's appearance, it was obvious he hadn't much life experience.  Despite Mason's own intelligent thought processes, he agreed to try it.
"What's your name, anyway?" Mason asked as the boy stumbled with whatever substance he was trying to understand.
"I'm Wyatt!" He said, pulling at the name tag pinned to his shirt, "What's yours?"
"Mason." 
"YEEE, that's chill bra...."

What in the living hell is this? Mason's head was spinning and he couldn't figure out what exactly was going on.  I guess I was wrong... Weed isn't so hallucinogenic... man. Both he and Wyatt had yet to move out of their chairs, even though the drug must've taken its effect close to an hour before.  Mason all of a sudden saw Jake, his intern, in the corner.  Or at least he could've sworn he was there.  
"Jake, why are you so far from home?"
"I'm not."
"Jake, I drove for HOURS to get here! Did you follow me? It's okay if you did, don't get me wrong! I'm just curious, your parents are going to get worried and call me asking about you! I can't let you get injured or anything!" 
"Mason? What are you doing, man? That's a lemon." Wyatt contributed.
"Jake. Seriously now, let me take you home!"
"Nah, I'm good, I can't move anyway..." Mason all of a sudden noticed the cement which had formed around Jake's feet. 
"Wyatt, what is this?" Mason asked out.
Wyatt simply answered, "Lemons."
"Okay, man, I'm going to head on out of here," Mason stated, standing up.
But when Mason stood, he felt the ground below him slip away, and he fell quickly and hard. And he was out for the remainder of the night.

The next morning, it had to have been at the earliest, 9 AM.  Mason sat up and realized his location and got up and left.  Got in his car, and drove away, Of course leaving Wyatt about twenty dollars to make up for any mishaps which may have occurred.  Driving home, Mason began to think, What am I doing? Really.  Running away from my home, my Janie? I'm too fragile for this, and so is Jake.  God, why did I ever think I was worse off at home, around those I know and love.  Look at poor Wyatt, his friend just gave him such a sketchy thing with no warning.  The poor naiive kid.  I just miss Janie, though. More than all that. 
Mason drove and drove.

7:54 PM
Mason pulled up into his driveway, and opening the garage, he saw Janie's little blue car.  All of a sudden, he felt no need to shower, or eat, or sleep.  He hopped out of that car and ran inside. 

Story Outlines

I've already pretty much started my story, so this is essentially the outline I would have for it!

Characters:
Mason Davis- 38 year old business man, married with no children. Slightly depressed, rather lost in his world, regrets not living more for himself because he fell into the typical daily grind. Feels dulled. Commutes to New York everyday
Janie Davis- 34 year old small business owner.  Runs a small accessories boutique on main street of their suburban NJ town.  Wanted to have children later, but at this point she's not sure anymore
Intern, Jake- 22 year old business intern.  Tries to do everything that Mason requires of him to make an impression although most of the time he is overlooked in the rush of Mason's life.  A people pleaser, but really wants to succeed.
Mason's Boss (no name yet)- 59 year old CEO. Grumpy, but can be understanding at times

Setting:
New Jersey Suburb
New York City
San Francisco (?)
Spring 2012

Goal, Conflict, Problem:
Mason is unhappy with his place in life.  He has to support his wife, etc, but wants to follow himself for awhile.
He wants to achieve fulfillment

Major Events:
1. Mason is fed up, quits job
2. Gets in car, roadtrips across America WITHOUT JANIE (party)
3. Problem along the way? Meets a lover? not sure yet
4. Comes home, realizing that he is taking Janie away and moves to Switzerland. Maybe

Ending:
They live in Switzerland, almost bumming it, but are content

Theme:
You should fulfill yourself and your dreams, living for the experience

Questions to Character

When are you most content?
I'm most content when I'm at home, watching the History Channel and learning.  Or when I'm travelling- in interesting, bustling cities like San Francisco though.  Forget places like L.A. I would say I love my family, but my wife never wanted to have kids. So we're alone in the suburbs, and at this point, she's almost too old to have children anyway.  Don't "high-risk" pregnancies start being high-risk when the woman is thirty-five? I feel like that's right.  Well, she is thirty-four.  Despite that, I used to love those late nights we spend in the backyard, or just driving.  She really is beautiful. I just haven't seen her sparkle in a while.

Are you an expert at anything?  
I'm an expert at seeing constellations in the sky.  I'm an expert at picking soccer games before they are played.  I can make a to-do list like no one's business.  I can knit too.  But that's a secret.  Because it's weird for men to knit.

Speak about Darkness.
The dark is something unknown to humans; we are primarily diurnal.  Only with the introduction of fire for uses other than warmth, and practical light, did we ever dare to venture into the dark.  Even with those torches and bulky lamps, the creatures of the night beckoned and threatened.  Our ancestors only went out as long as light permitted, until electric light made it possible to constantly keep streets, cities, and the outdoors lit.  Now we don't know darkness.  I thought I did.  But I don't.  Most of you are in the light, but I'm in the shadow. The creatures of the night still beckon to me. But instead of threatening my survival, it intrigues me.  Maybe I'm just that one dumb caveman in the pack that goes into the night and gets eaten by the lions.

Describe your vision for the future.
In the future, I want to retire and never venture outside again.  I just want to curl up in my house, with Janie, and the children we never had.  My future will be uneventful, despite how boring that prospect is.  It's easier to go out as expected than unexpectedly. It saves pain and hassle.  Maybe I can take Janie to Europe like we planned after we got married.  It depends.

Character's Self-Description

Tuesday, March 14.  6:13 AM
Why did my reflection catch my attention today, of all days? I've walked past this floor length mirror everyday, multiple times a day at that. I guess what matters is that I noticed myself today.  I'm thirty-eight.  To think, twenty years ago, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; there was no hint of the slight crow's feet in the corners of my eyes and I didn't have these bags under my eyes, even though I slept less than I do now.  Those eyes sparkled at one point, right? That's what Janie had said so back when we were dating.  I ran my fingers through my wet hair.  Where did these grey hairs come from? I liked my hair.  I feel so much older than I look.  I run every night after work... but I still don't feel like I'm in shape. My mouth is boring and indifferent. There' no point in staring at myself, I have to get downtown.

Character Conflict

It's another weekend, another two-night partying extravaganza.  I bet I'm the only kid in this entire school who actually doesn't want it to be the last period of the day on Friday.  There are four minutes to the bell, and I have yet to pack up.  In four minutes, the ruse commences again.  And my decent lexicon temporarily terminates, like everytime I see someone I socialize with.  God, why did I get into this? I'm smart, yet I'm here, in a class that I could've taken two years ago.

"RRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"

Oh god.

Slowly, I pack up until I'm the last one in the room.  Maybe if I take awhile, they'll assume I had some other plans for the weekend.

Character's Face

Mason was an attractive young man.  He has thick, dark hair, now sprinkled with distinguished silvery grey.  It is trimmed on the sides, with the top longer, so it can be fashionably styled up with a quick run through of his hand.  But on dressier occasions than a regular workday, he runs some mousse through the length to give it a more controlled, sleek look.  Mason has gently strong jawline and chin.  Square, and characteristically male, but not so hard that one would be intimidated by him.  His nose cut down the middle of his face, small, but fitting for his face at the same time. He has a small mouth, with pale lips.  Mason's eyes are dark, slightly squinty, with eyelashes that are hardly noticeable until you come nearer him.  For the amount of stress that the man has subjected himself to over his life, he has few wrinkles and has a very nice complexion.  Had Mason not woken up and shaven, as he does everyday, he would have a thick, dark beard, but alas, his face remains clean-shaven.  

In Class- November 8

Mason is thirty-eight.  He quit his mediocre job today.

On March 15, Mason began his day like every other day he had lived since his twenty-fifth birthday, exactly thirteen years before.

6:04 AM
The alarm clock rang out at a volume that could've woken Medusa's victims back from their stony deaths.  The beeping didn't wake Mason though.  Red-eyed and indifferent, he rolled over. Again. He hadn't slept since he woke up two days before, on Monday morning.

6:56 AM
The smell of exhaust fumes overpowered his new car's smell, filling the typical two-car garage, bordered by shelving units too full of "once-a-year" decorations and toys. His finger applied pressure to the button in his car, opening the only barrier he had to hide behind from the cold morning in suburban New Jersey.

7:35 AM
Scrambling to find the projections he had worked so earnestly on for the company's next semester, he slammed his office door.
"Mr. Davis? I have your cof-" called out the intern as Mason rushed past, almost knocking the double shot, extra black expresso coffee from the quaint coffee shop three blocks away from his skyscraper, all over the twenty two year old's jacket.