Crickets droning the heat of post midsummer if all the windows were cracked in this hot box paper thin house after the sun some small relief could seep in but they weren’t. We all wanted to sleep on the floor except for Madison who wanted to sleep under the house. He was brilliant that way. I couldn’t stomach the thought of things crawling on me.
That was a summer of upheaval. I was out of work again. Going for a fourth bold new venture. Oh, but things were different this time, this time I took it seriously, I thought.
***
The wind blew the door open over and over. It was not for uncertainties sake that he minded. It was the expectation that with each opening some wonderful thing would come but all that came was the wind. Yet with each opening something wonderful had come for isn’t the wind itself a wonder? Not to burden himself too deeply he got up to secure the door.
As he reached it the thought, “I shall be bald.” Crossed his mind and he heard himself breathing, the sound came to him as if it were a small wheezy creature hovering an inch from his right cheek. “Man, get a hold of yourself” he said hugging his arms in. The door blew open once more hitting him on the forehead. He pushed it shut, but lacking a good latch the comedy would replay.
“There are doors,” a voice said, “that cannot remain shut.” This made no sense. He let it be.
Next he found he was expecting Stacy to be behind him but Stacy was dead, had been for three years.
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
Sacrifice
Maxine stood in the gas station and tapped the carton of cigarettes. There were three left. Without thinking too hard she pulled out one of them and lit it. She had smoked her entire life. At least she didn’t remember a time without these long pale friends.
The mood was not happy. After this pack was done there could be no more.
Her daughter had screamed at her, “If you never smoked again, we would all be better off.” There was a basement full, a shaft full, of people who would be better off.
The street rippled before her as she walked. She chanted, “light, last cigarette/ last light cigarette/ last light ever cigarette.”
On the ground in the gutter under the window behind the warehouse lay a little black shriveled thing on its back. Something had to die.
The mood was not happy. After this pack was done there could be no more.
Her daughter had screamed at her, “If you never smoked again, we would all be better off.” There was a basement full, a shaft full, of people who would be better off.
The street rippled before her as she walked. She chanted, “light, last cigarette/ last light cigarette/ last light ever cigarette.”
On the ground in the gutter under the window behind the warehouse lay a little black shriveled thing on its back. Something had to die.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
In This Box We Called a Room
In this box we called a room sat the greatest mind to be contained. This was the one thing we were to bear in mind as we left. I flit through once but the box was containing and I was a vapor then. Here’s the thing, we were expecting each other to be the answer to the other’s loneliness. But that failed.
I’m not an astronaut any more. I never wanted the stars.
Look, I’ll tell you this only once, never say anything serious in a bar. It’s just inappropriate. Make more mistakes. I should make more mistakes what’s there to lose anyway? I don’t plan on taking over anyone so don’t assume that I want you.
It was the rapidness of the disjointed thoughts that made it hard to sleep. She was exhausted in her soul. The tents were going up in three weeks and she didn’t want it anymore. It was an unacknowledged failing. Oh the misery!
She remembered his face all flushed with the whiskey, the whiskey that never lied. He was a silly person. He was not her answer. There was no answer in a man.
Don’t take her as bitter just a bit depressed. And though she would marry him she saw now the truth. He would remain a mixed blessing a constant exercise in patients, a discipline unto himself.
There is no rest in this life.
She got up from the bed and went to the kitchen for water because she could think of nothing else to do. While there she looked out to the street. It was quiet. It was calm. She could go but then what?
The coyote loped into view. He was beautiful as God intended. He was graceful as no other creature that night. He knew the answer but wasn’t going to tell her. As he crossed to the canyon behind the apartments she followed with her eyes. In her heart she knew victory for them was not winning but surviving. What do they endure?
She found herself putting on her running shoes. She only paused at the door a moment to consider the risk of wandering at night. Wasn’t it a greater risk to remain locked in? For her mind it was. The air was cool and invigorating off the desert the breeze was gentle caressing her face. She would walk with God and if he chose to protect her she was grateful and if he chose to test her she would accept that as well.
***
Jason’s brother was beside himself. Jason had never seen Mat so confused. “What happened?"
“I don’t know! Jay, she just left me a voice mail. Here, what do you think?”
“Mat, I’m following the coyote. I don’t know. It’s, I’m not sure anymore. Don’t panic I’ll be fine.”
“That’s it? You tried calling her?”
“Non-stop, she’s not answering.”
“Did you go to her apartment?”
“Not yet. Come with me. I don’t know what to expect.”
Jason thought of himself as a busy man.
“Hang on, right now?”
“I have to know. If we wait we might be too late. I mean what if she’s in trouble?”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“Will you drive? I don’t trust myself.”
Oh, grow up! thought Jason. He had little sympathy for lovers having never experienced that class of connection himself. What, thankfully, came out of his mouth was, “Ok, but I want to get something to eat.”
***
It was decided that the night would be her teacher and that she would no longer fight for the attentions of the day. It was weighed out against the fear she always carried, the one that drove her out to begin with.
***
Jason was peeved so he took his ridiculous time getting to the car and driving to some fast food place and ordering food and getting on with things. Mat was anxious. He kept urging Jason to hurry up.
When they got to the apartment they knocked first but when no one answered Mat got the key he had and opened it. It was eerie. It was quiet and stale as if no one had been there for three days. In the living room everything was normal looking but the spirit had left. They went to the bedroom. There was a large nest on the floor, a nest? Anyway, she wasn’t there and there was no note. Her car was there in its place.
“Do I call the police?”
“Man, I don’t know.” The brothers looked at each other a long moment. It had been a long time since Jason had really looked at Mat. What struck him was how hurt he seemed and how young. Mat slumped down just outside the door and put his head in his hands and groaned. Still Jason was afraid to really get involved.
***
When she came to herself she was dirty and not really sure where she was or if time had passed. The smell of the chaparral reminded her of the sea. The sea reminded her of the end of the world.
***
There wasn’t much to go on. The detectives asked a bunch of questions but didn’t seem all that hopeful. They said it could take a day or two before anything turned up. Naturally Mat was in shock. He loved her deeply. The thing that worried him now was the wedding. It needed to be postponed. His grandmother had looked so forward to it. He would be the first to marry in her line. Except now that wasn’t true anymore.
Jason complained to his crazy friend Will that his brother was delusional. But the fact remained, Will reminded him, that she was gone and that, under any circumstance, was not good. Especially if it turned out she was dead because, if she was, murder was not fare from people’s minds. Had there been a fight?
Jason had no idea.
A week later Jason was walking to his car after a night out, a little fuzzy to this world, he saw her. Or he thought it might be her. What he saw was a wild woman dirty flashing eyes flit away behind a building. He was too afraid to follow. He called Mat.
“I saw her! I think.”
“What? Where?”
“On my way to my car.”
“Really? Wait, where are you?”
“I just left the Tower.”
“You were drinking.”
“Mat, this is not drunk talking. I swear I saw her.”
“What did she look like?”
“Oh. I’m not sure.”
“Don’t mess with me! You’re drunk.”
But now Jason had a point to prove he was positive he had seen her.
“Ok man, don’t believe me. But I know I saw her.”
The call ended. Now he had to try talking to her. She looked kind of dangerous. Except now he didn’t know where she had gone. Around the building he crashed but there was no one.
***
The night had shown her many things. But the night did not show her love.
***
Ok, man, think. Thought Jason, where did she go?
The security guard was surprised to find him staring at the mess of grasses in the ditch. There was a river down there.
“Excuse me sir, can I help you?”
“Did you see a woman go this way? I’m looking for my sister.”
“No sir.” The guard was pretty sure he was drunk.
“I thought I saw her.”
“Ok sir. Listen, there are a lot of homeless people by the river. Maybe you saw one of them.”
Jason sighed, “you’re probably right.”
***
Mat found Jason laying on the hood of his car his pants were muddy. He was passed out. No, he was crying. He hadn’t slept he said. The homeless guys by the river didn’t know what he was talking about. For that matter neither did Mat.
Mat hadn’t reported to work. He was going to lose his job. Jason was between jobs already and this was not helping either of them. Then someone’s phone went off.
“Hello, this is Detective Gonzalez with the [blank] Police Department. We picked up a woman today who we’d like you to identify.”
“Is she alive!?” yelled Mat.
“Just come down to the station.”
They didn’t know how to take that. So they went.
***
She’d been trapped now. She wanted to get back to the pack. They were calling for her. She thrashed at the bonds but they only held tight. The bonds were a metaphor. We trade so much to be bound. It all came down to belief. She no longer believed in them.
Then came the fire. It started in her arm it traveled to her head it felt like dying. She could not scream. All was purple then black.
***
Jason waited for Mat in the lobby of the hospital. He flipped through a magazine but it did not hold his attention. He started to play with his phone. He wished he was inundated with work. But there was nothing. He got up and went to the drinking fountain because he could think of nothing else to do.
There was a poster on the wall depicting some medical thing. It was a brain.
His brain was exhausted.
The thought invaded then that Mat, for all his outward concern, lacked a deep something. That perhaps he had killed her in his mind and she was dead to him and there would be no wedding for them ever. This disturbed Jason.
***
When she next knew light she was in a hospital room on a bed. The first person she recognized was Jason.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he said back.
Then Mat entered and like a bad actor delivered his concern. They all knew he was faking it even the nurse and the random guy walking down the hall knew. She turned away in disgust. It was poignant and tragic, but no, Jason was still not in love.
It happened that they moved her to a residential place. The medications that were to connect her to reality weren’t working out too well. One issue was that no one could really tell what was real any more. Mat faded away, found another girl. Jason would visit once a week because he felt or thought that someone should. Her family were all somewhere no one was sure where. Jason was concerned that the family she had nearly joined was abandoning her it didn’t look good.
She told them it wouldn’t be long now. That the bread was developing in her lungs and she would die soon. No one seemed worried. Yet she did start having difficulty breathing. When Jason saw her that last time she was bluish and he told the nurse to do something. But the nurse was more interested in watching that infomercial about sharpening knives. He didn’t even look up to see who was talking to him.
Jason called a lawyer.
She died.
The autopsy revealed a fungal infection in her lungs. It had developed so far that it really did look like bread in her lungs. No one could explain how she knew. All the other patients were tested but only one other had anything like it.
Jason had a choice. Either he could fight for her memory, a woman he barely knew, or he could let this go and move on with his life. His friends were equally divided. Most didn’t want to say anything.
***
The coyote was chuckling at him on the stoop of his house. The house he bought because that’s what you do at thirty-five, right? He’d been thinking about her. How her death had changed his life.
“Mat, I’m following the coyote. I don’t know. It’s, I’m not sure anymore. Don’t panic I’ll be fine.”
He went to the door the see if the coyote would run.
She backed off the stoop and waited for him.
“No,” he whispered. “I can’t do this.”
She walked away in disgust. Mat was hyperventilating he had a distinct urge to slit his throat. He ran. But she was gone, so gone.
“Jason, help me!” was the last thing he remembered screaming.
I’m not an astronaut any more. I never wanted the stars.
Look, I’ll tell you this only once, never say anything serious in a bar. It’s just inappropriate. Make more mistakes. I should make more mistakes what’s there to lose anyway? I don’t plan on taking over anyone so don’t assume that I want you.
It was the rapidness of the disjointed thoughts that made it hard to sleep. She was exhausted in her soul. The tents were going up in three weeks and she didn’t want it anymore. It was an unacknowledged failing. Oh the misery!
She remembered his face all flushed with the whiskey, the whiskey that never lied. He was a silly person. He was not her answer. There was no answer in a man.
Don’t take her as bitter just a bit depressed. And though she would marry him she saw now the truth. He would remain a mixed blessing a constant exercise in patients, a discipline unto himself.
There is no rest in this life.
She got up from the bed and went to the kitchen for water because she could think of nothing else to do. While there she looked out to the street. It was quiet. It was calm. She could go but then what?
The coyote loped into view. He was beautiful as God intended. He was graceful as no other creature that night. He knew the answer but wasn’t going to tell her. As he crossed to the canyon behind the apartments she followed with her eyes. In her heart she knew victory for them was not winning but surviving. What do they endure?
She found herself putting on her running shoes. She only paused at the door a moment to consider the risk of wandering at night. Wasn’t it a greater risk to remain locked in? For her mind it was. The air was cool and invigorating off the desert the breeze was gentle caressing her face. She would walk with God and if he chose to protect her she was grateful and if he chose to test her she would accept that as well.
***
Jason’s brother was beside himself. Jason had never seen Mat so confused. “What happened?"
“I don’t know! Jay, she just left me a voice mail. Here, what do you think?”
“Mat, I’m following the coyote. I don’t know. It’s, I’m not sure anymore. Don’t panic I’ll be fine.”
“That’s it? You tried calling her?”
“Non-stop, she’s not answering.”
“Did you go to her apartment?”
“Not yet. Come with me. I don’t know what to expect.”
Jason thought of himself as a busy man.
“Hang on, right now?”
“I have to know. If we wait we might be too late. I mean what if she’s in trouble?”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“Will you drive? I don’t trust myself.”
Oh, grow up! thought Jason. He had little sympathy for lovers having never experienced that class of connection himself. What, thankfully, came out of his mouth was, “Ok, but I want to get something to eat.”
***
It was decided that the night would be her teacher and that she would no longer fight for the attentions of the day. It was weighed out against the fear she always carried, the one that drove her out to begin with.
***
Jason was peeved so he took his ridiculous time getting to the car and driving to some fast food place and ordering food and getting on with things. Mat was anxious. He kept urging Jason to hurry up.
When they got to the apartment they knocked first but when no one answered Mat got the key he had and opened it. It was eerie. It was quiet and stale as if no one had been there for three days. In the living room everything was normal looking but the spirit had left. They went to the bedroom. There was a large nest on the floor, a nest? Anyway, she wasn’t there and there was no note. Her car was there in its place.
“Do I call the police?”
“Man, I don’t know.” The brothers looked at each other a long moment. It had been a long time since Jason had really looked at Mat. What struck him was how hurt he seemed and how young. Mat slumped down just outside the door and put his head in his hands and groaned. Still Jason was afraid to really get involved.
***
When she came to herself she was dirty and not really sure where she was or if time had passed. The smell of the chaparral reminded her of the sea. The sea reminded her of the end of the world.
***
There wasn’t much to go on. The detectives asked a bunch of questions but didn’t seem all that hopeful. They said it could take a day or two before anything turned up. Naturally Mat was in shock. He loved her deeply. The thing that worried him now was the wedding. It needed to be postponed. His grandmother had looked so forward to it. He would be the first to marry in her line. Except now that wasn’t true anymore.
Jason complained to his crazy friend Will that his brother was delusional. But the fact remained, Will reminded him, that she was gone and that, under any circumstance, was not good. Especially if it turned out she was dead because, if she was, murder was not fare from people’s minds. Had there been a fight?
Jason had no idea.
A week later Jason was walking to his car after a night out, a little fuzzy to this world, he saw her. Or he thought it might be her. What he saw was a wild woman dirty flashing eyes flit away behind a building. He was too afraid to follow. He called Mat.
“I saw her! I think.”
“What? Where?”
“On my way to my car.”
“Really? Wait, where are you?”
“I just left the Tower.”
“You were drinking.”
“Mat, this is not drunk talking. I swear I saw her.”
“What did she look like?”
“Oh. I’m not sure.”
“Don’t mess with me! You’re drunk.”
But now Jason had a point to prove he was positive he had seen her.
“Ok man, don’t believe me. But I know I saw her.”
The call ended. Now he had to try talking to her. She looked kind of dangerous. Except now he didn’t know where she had gone. Around the building he crashed but there was no one.
***
The night had shown her many things. But the night did not show her love.
***
Ok, man, think. Thought Jason, where did she go?
The security guard was surprised to find him staring at the mess of grasses in the ditch. There was a river down there.
“Excuse me sir, can I help you?”
“Did you see a woman go this way? I’m looking for my sister.”
“No sir.” The guard was pretty sure he was drunk.
“I thought I saw her.”
“Ok sir. Listen, there are a lot of homeless people by the river. Maybe you saw one of them.”
Jason sighed, “you’re probably right.”
***
Mat found Jason laying on the hood of his car his pants were muddy. He was passed out. No, he was crying. He hadn’t slept he said. The homeless guys by the river didn’t know what he was talking about. For that matter neither did Mat.
Mat hadn’t reported to work. He was going to lose his job. Jason was between jobs already and this was not helping either of them. Then someone’s phone went off.
“Hello, this is Detective Gonzalez with the [blank] Police Department. We picked up a woman today who we’d like you to identify.”
“Is she alive!?” yelled Mat.
“Just come down to the station.”
They didn’t know how to take that. So they went.
***
She’d been trapped now. She wanted to get back to the pack. They were calling for her. She thrashed at the bonds but they only held tight. The bonds were a metaphor. We trade so much to be bound. It all came down to belief. She no longer believed in them.
Then came the fire. It started in her arm it traveled to her head it felt like dying. She could not scream. All was purple then black.
***
Jason waited for Mat in the lobby of the hospital. He flipped through a magazine but it did not hold his attention. He started to play with his phone. He wished he was inundated with work. But there was nothing. He got up and went to the drinking fountain because he could think of nothing else to do.
There was a poster on the wall depicting some medical thing. It was a brain.
His brain was exhausted.
The thought invaded then that Mat, for all his outward concern, lacked a deep something. That perhaps he had killed her in his mind and she was dead to him and there would be no wedding for them ever. This disturbed Jason.
***
When she next knew light she was in a hospital room on a bed. The first person she recognized was Jason.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he said back.
Then Mat entered and like a bad actor delivered his concern. They all knew he was faking it even the nurse and the random guy walking down the hall knew. She turned away in disgust. It was poignant and tragic, but no, Jason was still not in love.
It happened that they moved her to a residential place. The medications that were to connect her to reality weren’t working out too well. One issue was that no one could really tell what was real any more. Mat faded away, found another girl. Jason would visit once a week because he felt or thought that someone should. Her family were all somewhere no one was sure where. Jason was concerned that the family she had nearly joined was abandoning her it didn’t look good.
She told them it wouldn’t be long now. That the bread was developing in her lungs and she would die soon. No one seemed worried. Yet she did start having difficulty breathing. When Jason saw her that last time she was bluish and he told the nurse to do something. But the nurse was more interested in watching that infomercial about sharpening knives. He didn’t even look up to see who was talking to him.
Jason called a lawyer.
She died.
The autopsy revealed a fungal infection in her lungs. It had developed so far that it really did look like bread in her lungs. No one could explain how she knew. All the other patients were tested but only one other had anything like it.
Jason had a choice. Either he could fight for her memory, a woman he barely knew, or he could let this go and move on with his life. His friends were equally divided. Most didn’t want to say anything.
***
The coyote was chuckling at him on the stoop of his house. The house he bought because that’s what you do at thirty-five, right? He’d been thinking about her. How her death had changed his life.
“Mat, I’m following the coyote. I don’t know. It’s, I’m not sure anymore. Don’t panic I’ll be fine.”
He went to the door the see if the coyote would run.
She backed off the stoop and waited for him.
“No,” he whispered. “I can’t do this.”
She walked away in disgust. Mat was hyperventilating he had a distinct urge to slit his throat. He ran. But she was gone, so gone.
“Jason, help me!” was the last thing he remembered screaming.
Monday, February 27, 2012
storms
It was a gusty south-western that blew through the harbor and all the old sailors were sitting on the wharf waiting for it to pass when Bartholomew took the pipe out of his mouth and said, "I remember the storm of '84. It was a purple storm."
One of the younger sailors asked, "What made it purple?"
"I was the first time I experienced purple rain."
Old Lealand jerked up his head, "What blend are you smoking?"
One of the younger sailors asked, "What made it purple?"
"I was the first time I experienced purple rain."
Old Lealand jerked up his head, "What blend are you smoking?"
Monday, February 13, 2012
Starling
I was digging furiously at the mound that blocked the road in front of me. This was complicated by the fact that I remained fully armed and my sword kept getting in the way. After a bit I'd look to see if there was a way around that I'd missed before but I was always meet with the same rock wall and the abyss.
A bit about this road: it's on a mountain, it's narrow by your standards, subject to landslide(obviously). I'd been stuck here for some time and knew attack was eminent. Hence the sword.
The block itself was an attack but my enemy is also known for harrying and so as I cleared the block bit by bit my ears strained to hear the on coming attack. I sincerely hoped to either find a way around or be met half way by someone clearing out from the other side. I had no idea of the extent of damage on the road.
I'm not alone thought it seems so. My comrades are near enough to hear me if I call and it they listen. Help only comes in the nick of time not before. I have endured may things on this road in the silent hope of help.
A bit about this road: it's on a mountain, it's narrow by your standards, subject to landslide(obviously). I'd been stuck here for some time and knew attack was eminent. Hence the sword.
The block itself was an attack but my enemy is also known for harrying and so as I cleared the block bit by bit my ears strained to hear the on coming attack. I sincerely hoped to either find a way around or be met half way by someone clearing out from the other side. I had no idea of the extent of damage on the road.
I'm not alone thought it seems so. My comrades are near enough to hear me if I call and it they listen. Help only comes in the nick of time not before. I have endured may things on this road in the silent hope of help.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Invitation
Jon was doubtful about this years prospects. The last three years had brought nothing fresh and so with a sence of particular resignation he turned to his usual recourse in low times but felt it heavy and not entierly to the point. He was rich in labor but not in company. He took a perverce pride in working more and sleeping less than anyone else and would most likely die of a heart attack with nothing better than a paycheck and unfinished business to recomend him. The most any would say, if it occured to them, would be that he worked hard. Maybe some would lament that he didn't have a family to attend him and check his headlong charge tword death. For all stress illness is a seacret wish to die.
As stated above, Jon was doubtful about this year's prospects. For Jon there wasn't enough grace or time. His recourse was there on the table. It wasn't wiskey or wine, women or song. Although the last would have been the most profitable. He was an indifferent singer. No, too busy for pleasur, his recourse was a list. A dangerous list of all the things he couldn't do because he worked. There was a positive things side and a negative things side. He used this list to comfort himself by exaggerating the negative building it up to a rediculus extent until it put him in the way of panic.
Panic, he almost enjoyed being in a strong panic. His body hated him for it.
His neighbor Cornelius was in the yard projecting poetry again. Something about the water cycle. It was distracting. Cornelius didn't desrve to be so loud he didn't work as much as Jon. That's when he roared as loud as he could. But his voice was weak so it only hurt him and didn't even reach Cornelius who had moved on to how the economy was broken and oporaited like sausage or some nonsense. Cornelius was a groundskeeper for the city. Cornelius was rich in company and comfortable in labor. Work was another way to enjoy life.
The little emotional cork screw Jon entered blindly seven months ago began the day the intern was observed teaching a junior partner a dance move in the hall. They weren't working. This angered Jon. He never questioned why he was angry until this very moment when he knew he was unheard. The intern had moved on. The junior partner did about what was expected and business continued though not as brilliantly as he'd like. The owners seemed resonably satisfied. That should've been good enough.
What did he want anyway? At one point in his life he had expected to marry. Marage would be a social accomplishment. He liked accomplishments. No attractive woman had come into his life. He had no time to hunt one up himself. He thought about dating services but never got around to trying one. Dates take time, he didn't think he could work that into his already impacted schedule.
His sister had some advice about scheduling but he didn't trust her judgement since she moved to Seatle and her accomplishments were things he couldn't understand, like baking and knitting. How was that important? Well, on ferther anlysis baking was useful.
Maybe he was angry because he faild to be happy. He didn't have the slightest idea what that meant. Failure was easy to comprihend but happiness was a fuzzy idea. It seemed wonderful but rarely happened and he suspected that anyone who claimed to be happy was lieing. He always lied when he claimed it.
His thoughts were interupted by a knock at the front door and Cornelius' voice bellowing, "Hey neighboor Jon! come out.We're cooking out. I got some hotdogs an' Squirt got us some beer." Jon wanted to give himself a concussion. Cornelius was a bother, no matter how many times Jon had regected him and even insulted him Cornelius wouldn't leave him be. What was he to do? All atempts to hint or abuse or ignor meant nothing. "Look, I can feel you in there beeing all serious." Cornelius was saying, "But if you don't come out" Jon couldn't take it any more. "What, if I don't come out what?" he said on opening the door. And for the first time in five years he actually looked into Cornelius' eyes. They were deep and full and compationate and Jon was terribly self consious and paniced in a way he never expected. Those eyes scared him. Those eyes loved him?
Dude, you're trippin', he thought. Part of him wanted to run like hella out, away. A deeper part wanted to melt down and cry to sleep. Cornelius solomly handed him a beer. Squirt hollered from thier stoop that the coals were hot. "Come on." Cornelius urged. In a dream, in a state of shock Jon crossed thier yards with a can of cheap beer not even bothering to lock his door.
As stated above, Jon was doubtful about this year's prospects. For Jon there wasn't enough grace or time. His recourse was there on the table. It wasn't wiskey or wine, women or song. Although the last would have been the most profitable. He was an indifferent singer. No, too busy for pleasur, his recourse was a list. A dangerous list of all the things he couldn't do because he worked. There was a positive things side and a negative things side. He used this list to comfort himself by exaggerating the negative building it up to a rediculus extent until it put him in the way of panic.
Panic, he almost enjoyed being in a strong panic. His body hated him for it.
His neighbor Cornelius was in the yard projecting poetry again. Something about the water cycle. It was distracting. Cornelius didn't desrve to be so loud he didn't work as much as Jon. That's when he roared as loud as he could. But his voice was weak so it only hurt him and didn't even reach Cornelius who had moved on to how the economy was broken and oporaited like sausage or some nonsense. Cornelius was a groundskeeper for the city. Cornelius was rich in company and comfortable in labor. Work was another way to enjoy life.
The little emotional cork screw Jon entered blindly seven months ago began the day the intern was observed teaching a junior partner a dance move in the hall. They weren't working. This angered Jon. He never questioned why he was angry until this very moment when he knew he was unheard. The intern had moved on. The junior partner did about what was expected and business continued though not as brilliantly as he'd like. The owners seemed resonably satisfied. That should've been good enough.
What did he want anyway? At one point in his life he had expected to marry. Marage would be a social accomplishment. He liked accomplishments. No attractive woman had come into his life. He had no time to hunt one up himself. He thought about dating services but never got around to trying one. Dates take time, he didn't think he could work that into his already impacted schedule.
His sister had some advice about scheduling but he didn't trust her judgement since she moved to Seatle and her accomplishments were things he couldn't understand, like baking and knitting. How was that important? Well, on ferther anlysis baking was useful.
Maybe he was angry because he faild to be happy. He didn't have the slightest idea what that meant. Failure was easy to comprihend but happiness was a fuzzy idea. It seemed wonderful but rarely happened and he suspected that anyone who claimed to be happy was lieing. He always lied when he claimed it.
His thoughts were interupted by a knock at the front door and Cornelius' voice bellowing, "Hey neighboor Jon! come out.We're cooking out. I got some hotdogs an' Squirt got us some beer." Jon wanted to give himself a concussion. Cornelius was a bother, no matter how many times Jon had regected him and even insulted him Cornelius wouldn't leave him be. What was he to do? All atempts to hint or abuse or ignor meant nothing. "Look, I can feel you in there beeing all serious." Cornelius was saying, "But if you don't come out" Jon couldn't take it any more. "What, if I don't come out what?" he said on opening the door. And for the first time in five years he actually looked into Cornelius' eyes. They were deep and full and compationate and Jon was terribly self consious and paniced in a way he never expected. Those eyes scared him. Those eyes loved him?
Dude, you're trippin', he thought. Part of him wanted to run like hella out, away. A deeper part wanted to melt down and cry to sleep. Cornelius solomly handed him a beer. Squirt hollered from thier stoop that the coals were hot. "Come on." Cornelius urged. In a dream, in a state of shock Jon crossed thier yards with a can of cheap beer not even bothering to lock his door.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
IPN
Red found himself looking over the boats along the warf. They were all familiar makes except one. This had a wide heavy look not like the narrow river boats or the delecate boarding craft attached to the big ships. The wood was different too. Somehow it was from another place a different climet not assosiated with this one, which mostly saw African and Asian vessels.
A man, such as he rarely saw, came down to the warf and the strange boat. He was also waide and solid looking like his craft his hair fell in dark loose ringlets down his back and his cap was worked with strange patterns. He swore in a language harsh and somewhat familiar.
As the man made his return to the shore he saw Red and a light of recognition sprang to his eyes. He came to Red quite excited and adressed him. But Red could not understand. The man, a bit diapointed, kept trying different languages in turn finally hitting on English he asked, "English?"
"Yes, I speak that!" exclaimed Red
"You're English then?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure." replied Red
"I'm Dutch." the Dutchman said "you look like one of my cousins."
"Oh."
"How are you not sure you're English?"
"I've been to sea too long. But now that I think of it I don't think I'm really English. It dosen't sound right."
"Well, your English is better than mine" said the Dutchman. Red agreed with him. It was.
A man, such as he rarely saw, came down to the warf and the strange boat. He was also waide and solid looking like his craft his hair fell in dark loose ringlets down his back and his cap was worked with strange patterns. He swore in a language harsh and somewhat familiar.
As the man made his return to the shore he saw Red and a light of recognition sprang to his eyes. He came to Red quite excited and adressed him. But Red could not understand. The man, a bit diapointed, kept trying different languages in turn finally hitting on English he asked, "English?"
"Yes, I speak that!" exclaimed Red
"You're English then?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure." replied Red
"I'm Dutch." the Dutchman said "you look like one of my cousins."
"Oh."
"How are you not sure you're English?"
"I've been to sea too long. But now that I think of it I don't think I'm really English. It dosen't sound right."
"Well, your English is better than mine" said the Dutchman. Red agreed with him. It was.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
IPN
Quite gingerly Red rose from the mat on the floor and stood for the first time that day. Sore and stiff still he moved as softly as he could to avoid disturbing the others. As he reached the doorway to the out side world a noise caught his attention. He turned back to see one of them sitting cross legged and scowling. Red did not like this. But what could he do? He was weak from the three month of confinement. He wished, not for the first or last time, that he hadn't woken. To survive was a hard thing.
He turned again to the doorway and stepped out. Immediately he was struck in the shoulder by something. He stepped back into the hut. Seriously? All he wanted to do was take a piss. These people were twisted.
Why had Li left?
Red was determined to leave the hut. He stood still and listed. The blow had been on his left but he didn't know what had hit him so he stood waiting. He knew they were preparing something behind him he could hear it. Though this concerned him he did not turn. If they attack, he thought, there's noting for it but to run directly into the sea. He couldn't think farther than that.
He had a vague idea that a ship would be there and would take him aboard and away. He happened to look down at about this point and saw something that made him smile. Without looking to the right or left he stooped down and picked it up as he walked out. The blow missed him this time. He felt the rush of it pass but didn't bother to look back for the source. No one followed him. True, they were very quiet but he was cretin they had let him go. As long as he didn't look back they would remain out of sight, they would let him go.
He turned again to the doorway and stepped out. Immediately he was struck in the shoulder by something. He stepped back into the hut. Seriously? All he wanted to do was take a piss. These people were twisted.
Why had Li left?
Red was determined to leave the hut. He stood still and listed. The blow had been on his left but he didn't know what had hit him so he stood waiting. He knew they were preparing something behind him he could hear it. Though this concerned him he did not turn. If they attack, he thought, there's noting for it but to run directly into the sea. He couldn't think farther than that.
He had a vague idea that a ship would be there and would take him aboard and away. He happened to look down at about this point and saw something that made him smile. Without looking to the right or left he stooped down and picked it up as he walked out. The blow missed him this time. He felt the rush of it pass but didn't bother to look back for the source. No one followed him. True, they were very quiet but he was cretin they had let him go. As long as he didn't look back they would remain out of sight, they would let him go.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
IPN
The debouch was progressing on schedule. The crew had consumed the sake and was just getting into the vodka they had saved for just such a time as this when, of a sudden (wouldn't you know), a stranger appeared among them. He did not say a word but moved quickly below deck where he encountered one of the two sober people aboard the Grate Ship. After a brief exchange both men went to find the boatswain. Who they found brooding over a coffee drink.
"O, so yeh found me?"
"Most nat'ly done Carson." replied the stranger, "you have a trail like algae."
Carson cursed, in a generic way, "What do you want?"
"You don't know?"
"No."
"I'm calling in the last favor."
"And what would that be?"
"Joyce"
"Look, I know you're better informed than I, what in blazes are you talking about?"
"Okinawa, or rather what happened just off it? What happened to Joyce"
Carson rubbing his head, "The ship was cracked. I don't know what happened."
"You're the only survivor."
"I am?"
"Well that's what I need to know."
"Look, last I know the ship cracked just after dark. A lot can happen in the dark. I
came to half on half off wreckage. Not a soul in sight. Spent days getting ready to die but got picked up instead."
"Who picked you up?"
"It was a French ship. But the crew was Russian."
The stranger snorted. Nothing good would come of this.
___
"Would it be our dumb luck to be gentlemen born? To be second sons and bastards of lords? Thrown to the waves to build our fortune?"
"That's a good one."
"You interrupted me. Now I forgot what I wanted to say."
"Oh, sorry."
"Let's see, do you know what happened to that chart? The one depicting Xi harbor?"
"Blimey, Kellen, you haven't asked after that in years."
"Well, Jacko, I have intelligence that the Goat is to winter there."
"Arrr."
"Not that."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten she carries a man I must settle accounts with soon. Besides, she has a cargo of spice."
"I hope you mean gold and not the other kind."
"O, so yeh found me?"
"Most nat'ly done Carson." replied the stranger, "you have a trail like algae."
Carson cursed, in a generic way, "What do you want?"
"You don't know?"
"No."
"I'm calling in the last favor."
"And what would that be?"
"Joyce"
"Look, I know you're better informed than I, what in blazes are you talking about?"
"Okinawa, or rather what happened just off it? What happened to Joyce"
Carson rubbing his head, "The ship was cracked. I don't know what happened."
"You're the only survivor."
"I am?"
"Well that's what I need to know."
"Look, last I know the ship cracked just after dark. A lot can happen in the dark. I
came to half on half off wreckage. Not a soul in sight. Spent days getting ready to die but got picked up instead."
"Who picked you up?"
"It was a French ship. But the crew was Russian."
The stranger snorted. Nothing good would come of this.
___
"Would it be our dumb luck to be gentlemen born? To be second sons and bastards of lords? Thrown to the waves to build our fortune?"
"That's a good one."
"You interrupted me. Now I forgot what I wanted to say."
"Oh, sorry."
"Let's see, do you know what happened to that chart? The one depicting Xi harbor?"
"Blimey, Kellen, you haven't asked after that in years."
"Well, Jacko, I have intelligence that the Goat is to winter there."
"Arrr."
"Not that."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten she carries a man I must settle accounts with soon. Besides, she has a cargo of spice."
"I hope you mean gold and not the other kind."
Saturday, June 13, 2009
the Quadrangle of Timjuanka
I sat biting spit bubbles on the couch, something I do to calm my mind. They were discussing the next day loudly, something I preferred not to be bothered with. It was her intensity and insistence on exacting promises that challenged my concentration and made me feel captive. The captivity was from a long time standing. And though I had tasted brief moments of slackening guard on her part, there had never been freedom. Ahh! freedom.
"One of you will buy the pizza." she said not making eye contact with any one. I wondered awkwardly who she was addressing. Her angry anxiety barely suppressed. "Dios mio!" I thought, "She will burst. What a mes that will be." She fidgeted around and moved a book two inches to the left on the coffee table after having moved it to the right two seconds before. "She must sleep now" I thought, "But if I say so it may cause her more anger." So, I hit her over the head with a Spanish/English dictionary. It knocked her out nicely and we dragged her up stairs. I wanted to tie her down but he wouldn't let me.
"One of you will buy the pizza." she said not making eye contact with any one. I wondered awkwardly who she was addressing. Her angry anxiety barely suppressed. "Dios mio!" I thought, "She will burst. What a mes that will be." She fidgeted around and moved a book two inches to the left on the coffee table after having moved it to the right two seconds before. "She must sleep now" I thought, "But if I say so it may cause her more anger." So, I hit her over the head with a Spanish/English dictionary. It knocked her out nicely and we dragged her up stairs. I wanted to tie her down but he wouldn't let me.
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