Seize the Day

a nanonovel

A self-help article in a Sunday supplement advised Gordon to seize the day, so he did.

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. The day he chose was a particularly slippery specimen, well lubricated with a strange-smelling unguent. When he tried grasping it firmly, it slithered through his hands and landed on the floor. There it lay, writhing gently.

He had time on his hands. He wiped them on his trousers and tried again. Next he tried to seize it from behind, by creeping up on it from a crouching position. However, by then it had cottoned on to his intentions, and wriggled away under the sideboard, where it was coated in tufts of dust.
Camouflage was the next option. Inspired by the Scottish play, he borrowed a tall, gangly rubber plant from next door and used it to hide his tall, gangly frame as he inched his way into the room.

Gordon got close. Oh, so close! He reached out with both hands to seize the uncooperative day and shake it into submission. But as soon as his fingers met its slimy nub, it sprayed a jet of stinging fluid into his eyes, which temporarily blinded him.

He gave up at that point, and decided to wait for a dry day instead.

Sadly, luck wasn’t on Gordon’s side.

Night fell, and landed on his head. He never rose again.