BarstoolProphet
New member
It began shortly before 9:00 a.m. on a sunny sunday morning. The world outside the house was quiet, perhaps even peaceful. The birds of spring chirped their merry songs at one another, and only the occasional sound of passing cars broke the otherwise tranquil neighbourhood.
The man had been awake for close to two hours, listening to the television whilst fiddling about with painting miniatures. Finding himself un-motivated for that course of action, he looked around his apartment, and decided that something needed to be done about its state of cleanliness.
And so, it began. First with the gathering and the putting away of tools, of which he found that he had more than he\'d thought. Fortunately, though, there were not too many duplicates. Then came the collecting of clothing that missed the laundry hamper over the last . . . well, let\'s just say it had been a very long time since that paisley shirt had been \'in style\'.
These two tasks alone cleared an area of floor almost large enough for him to lay down in, which was a promising beginning. He was reminded that he had an actual floor, somewhere down there.
With that section of floor cleared, he moved his comfortable chair into it, and began working on the pile of clutter that had accumulated there for at least as long as that previously mentioned paisley shirt had been on the floor. More tools were discovered, including several rollers for painting walls that he simply couldn\'t remember acquiring. Perhaps they were left over from the painting of the apartment before he moved in some years earlier?
With these things done, he found that he had exposed an even greater area of floor space, and to his dismay, the floor was dusty. In the corners, the dust was frighteningly deep. A shovel was acquired, but after only a few moments of consideration, was deemed to be too large a tool for the job. A broom was acquired, instead, along with a very large dust pan. This worked quite well, these two tools having been designed specifically for this sort of work.
Having a floor -- a clean floor -- made the man quite pleased with himself, so he began moving pieces of furniture about to get at dust beneath them, as well. This, unfortunately, led him to discover long-lost items of nostalgia that distracted him for some minutes. But, with a great show of willpower, he laid them aside and resumed his work, moving dressers, desk, file cabinets, and another chair to be sure he missed none of the dust.
Finally, he came to his miniature painting station, which was in a sad state of disarray, and began cleaning and organizing it.
As with the moving of furniture, this led him to discover more items of nostalgia. Not old yearbooks, nor old letters from ex-girlfriends, this time. Now, it was miniatures that had been put into storage, or pushed aside \'to do later\'.
Now, it is important to understand that this man has never thought of himself as a collector -- barely even a hobbyist -- but finding so many miniatures startled him. If asked, he would have responded that he had a respectably large number of models for his army in this fascinating new(ish) game of Warmachine, and a few nice large dragons from various companies, all of which were in differing states of completion.
What he found was a veritable horde of miniatures, tucked into many boxes with great care, dating back into the early-to-mid eighties. Some were still in their blister packages, or in some cases, their little folds of cardboard attached to plastic baggies. Many were loose from their packaging, unidentified. And still more of them, in or out of packaging, he could not remember ever having seen before. Ever.
He had miniatures from companies he could not remember even having heard of. Blind Bat Miniatures? A Leper Zombie blister from a company called Swollen Toe Miniatures? Where in the world had these come from?
The only answer he could think of was that his friends, who had attended conventions, had brought him these miniatures as gifts, since he \'occasionally\' painted them, and they had been forgotten. The only rational answer, anyway.
The other possibility was that his various cardboard and plastic boxes were somehow connected to an alternate dimension that continuously spewed forth miniatures at random rates of speed.
When last seen, the man was trying to cram the many miniatures back into their boxes, the boxes back into their shelf spaces, before his lady friend arrived and had another opportunity to make fun of his oddness.
(Author\'s note: I got lucky. She called to say she would be late, so I had time to write this post up, as well as pack it all away.)
The man had been awake for close to two hours, listening to the television whilst fiddling about with painting miniatures. Finding himself un-motivated for that course of action, he looked around his apartment, and decided that something needed to be done about its state of cleanliness.
And so, it began. First with the gathering and the putting away of tools, of which he found that he had more than he\'d thought. Fortunately, though, there were not too many duplicates. Then came the collecting of clothing that missed the laundry hamper over the last . . . well, let\'s just say it had been a very long time since that paisley shirt had been \'in style\'.
These two tasks alone cleared an area of floor almost large enough for him to lay down in, which was a promising beginning. He was reminded that he had an actual floor, somewhere down there.
With that section of floor cleared, he moved his comfortable chair into it, and began working on the pile of clutter that had accumulated there for at least as long as that previously mentioned paisley shirt had been on the floor. More tools were discovered, including several rollers for painting walls that he simply couldn\'t remember acquiring. Perhaps they were left over from the painting of the apartment before he moved in some years earlier?
With these things done, he found that he had exposed an even greater area of floor space, and to his dismay, the floor was dusty. In the corners, the dust was frighteningly deep. A shovel was acquired, but after only a few moments of consideration, was deemed to be too large a tool for the job. A broom was acquired, instead, along with a very large dust pan. This worked quite well, these two tools having been designed specifically for this sort of work.
Having a floor -- a clean floor -- made the man quite pleased with himself, so he began moving pieces of furniture about to get at dust beneath them, as well. This, unfortunately, led him to discover long-lost items of nostalgia that distracted him for some minutes. But, with a great show of willpower, he laid them aside and resumed his work, moving dressers, desk, file cabinets, and another chair to be sure he missed none of the dust.
Finally, he came to his miniature painting station, which was in a sad state of disarray, and began cleaning and organizing it.
As with the moving of furniture, this led him to discover more items of nostalgia. Not old yearbooks, nor old letters from ex-girlfriends, this time. Now, it was miniatures that had been put into storage, or pushed aside \'to do later\'.
Now, it is important to understand that this man has never thought of himself as a collector -- barely even a hobbyist -- but finding so many miniatures startled him. If asked, he would have responded that he had a respectably large number of models for his army in this fascinating new(ish) game of Warmachine, and a few nice large dragons from various companies, all of which were in differing states of completion.
What he found was a veritable horde of miniatures, tucked into many boxes with great care, dating back into the early-to-mid eighties. Some were still in their blister packages, or in some cases, their little folds of cardboard attached to plastic baggies. Many were loose from their packaging, unidentified. And still more of them, in or out of packaging, he could not remember ever having seen before. Ever.
He had miniatures from companies he could not remember even having heard of. Blind Bat Miniatures? A Leper Zombie blister from a company called Swollen Toe Miniatures? Where in the world had these come from?
The only answer he could think of was that his friends, who had attended conventions, had brought him these miniatures as gifts, since he \'occasionally\' painted them, and they had been forgotten. The only rational answer, anyway.
The other possibility was that his various cardboard and plastic boxes were somehow connected to an alternate dimension that continuously spewed forth miniatures at random rates of speed.
When last seen, the man was trying to cram the many miniatures back into their boxes, the boxes back into their shelf spaces, before his lady friend arrived and had another opportunity to make fun of his oddness.
(Author\'s note: I got lucky. She called to say she would be late, so I had time to write this post up, as well as pack it all away.)
