I walk into the coffee shop. A man stands sweeping the same spot over and over again. A couple at a nearby table argue quietly, hate in their eyes. Another man sits in the corner mumbling to himself as he drinks his coffee. A woman sits at the other end with her laptop and papers spread across the table. The girl behind the counter gives me a fake smile and asks what she can get for me.
"Small coffee, that's all," I say. The girl fills a cup and hands it to me.
"One dollar please," she says, her smile long since faded. I hand her the money. She puts it in her cash drawer and walks away without another word.
I walk to a table and notice how dirty the floors are. The table has crumbs on it and is sticky as though it has not been washed in a while. I am disgusted. I hate this place, yet I come here every day.
And in walks the reason. She's a tall brunette, about my age, maybe a year or two younger, but she carries herself like an older woman. She walks with dignity and grace. She's dressed just as attractively as ever. A pair of plain black heels, black leggings that cling to her gorgeous legs, showing off her shapely body. She wears a long dark gray sweater with a turtle neck and long sleeves. It goes low, covering her front and rear, giving her a modest appearance, yet it is tight enough to not be what I would say is over-modest. Her hair is pinned up in a bun in the back, a few curly strands hanging down on the sides. She smiles at me as she approaches the counter to order her drink. When she gets it she comes over and sits down next to me, eyeing the table with disgust as much as I.
"How are you?" I ask.
"Good, and you?" she returns.
"I'm fine Ashley, thank you for asking." I am being cautious. I am even surprised she still wants to see me after our last meeting. "What would you like to talk about today?"
"I don't know...I've sort of been thinking about.....I don't know, maybe meeting in your office?"
"Well I never said we couldn't. Are you getting tired of this dump?" She laughs and nods slightly. The girl behind the counter shoots me a nasty look and goes back to doing whatever she's doing behind the counter.
"I want more privacy...I mean, last time everyone was looking at us and stuff...I didn't like that."
"Me neither Ashley. I'm glad you agreed to meet again though...I think we're finally making some progress...last meeting's incident was...good, I think. It shows that we hit a nerve, you might say. We found something...if you want we should keep talking about your childhood, high school and such...that seems to be where your trouble really started for you." She is eyeing me as if deciding whether to start screaming at me again, or maybe to cry, or maybe to just talk calmly, as she usually does. I try to hide the sadness I feel in my heart. My dear friend, that I've known for eight years has become a patient.
I started counseling four years ago and had been doing an excellent job at it. It was my successful career, and I enjoyed it. Helping others was my juice that kept me going. It was what made life worth living to me. So I did it. But when my good friend Ashley had come to me last year, opening up to me a whole side of her I'd never even known had existed, it had put a strain not only on our friendship, but on my life. I had met Ashley in community college and we had been friends since, even when we went to different schools after. It was hard, being such good friends with someone, and then finding out so much more, so much more that you wish wasn't there. It wasn't all at once. In fact it was probably more my fault. Because when we had met up for lunch last year I asked her about the cuts on her wrist. She said they were nothing, and I decided to not push her. After all, I didn't expect a grown woman to be cutting. But when she came to me a week later, her wrist cut open and bleeding, I knew there was no avoiding it. I had to get involved. Don't get me wrong, I was more than happy to be involved and help her, but what was difficult was that our friendship sort of seemed to stop. We were no longer friends, but a doctor and his patient. It was as if I was with a whole different person. Over months and months of talking about whatever she wanted to, I finally began trying to touch on the topic of her childhood. She had never ever discussed her family, or anything about high school years and earlier. If her past was ever brought up, she was always good at changing the subject somehow. But when I pressed her on it the last time we met, she had become angry. She began yelling at me, and stormed from the coffee shop, the whole place watching the scene unfold. I had sat there for a few minutes staring at the table, trying to think of how better to handle the situation. I had waited a week, and when she hadn't called I called her. She picked up and agreed to talk, and now we are here.
"I'm scared Monty...I know what it is...but I'm scared to tell you."
"You know you can tell me anything Ash," I take her hand in mine. This is the first time I have touched her like this in the past year. I don't know why I do it, but it feels natural, and she seems to respond to it. She smiles at me and tears begin to form in her eyes.
"Not here..." she says.
"We can go to the office then," I say. All my other patients met me in my office, but Ash had never wanted to for some reason, but she never said why.
"No...maybe...you're house?" she asks with pleading eyes. I've never taken a patient to my house, or even told any of them where I live. But Ashley already knows where I live, and she is after all my friend.
"Alright, we can do that," I say.
As we get up to leave a man in a dark hooded sweatshirt comes in. He pulls a gun and points it at the coffee girl, demanding cash. He turns to me and Ashley. I instinctively step in front of her. The man takes it as a threat and shoots. The bullet enters my chest, but I feel nothing. I hear Ashley scream, another gun shot. More screaming occurs, and I feel a body fall beside me. Ashley takes my hand and I give it a squeeze before letting go and using my remaining strength to rush at the man. I tackle him to the ground and wrestle the gun from his hand. Before I pass out I manage to pull the trigger, the gun pointing towards the man's heart.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
This Is Probably The Longest Title I Have Ever Had For One Of My Blogs
I bet you actually clicked it to see what it was about. Well hey, I would too, don't feel bad. Truth is, it isn't about anything, because I can't think of anything to write about. So I did this, because I wanted to write at least something.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
In Charge
Jim stood smoking a cigarette on the corner of the street, leaning casually against a light post. He wore jeans, some old dirty brown boots, a t-shirt, and a cracked and faded leather jacket. He had aviators on and a bandanna that covered his face. He wore a .44 revolver in a holster at his hip. Two duffle bags sat on either side of him. The street was empty, save for the few empty cars parked on the side of streets. Jim looked down at his watch. It was time. He dropped his still burning and smoking cigarette on the ground, picked up the bags and walked across the street to the bank. As he stepped onto the sidewalk a van pulled up right on time, and three men jumped out from the back. Each man carried a bag. One man was armed with a shotgun, another with a sub-machine gun, and the last man with a semi-automatic pistol. The four of them rushed into he bank. While the other three men rounded everyone up, Jim approached the clerk at the main desk and set the two duffle bags on the counter. He pointed his .44 right in the man's face.
"Fill the bags now, and do it quickly," he said. The clerk hurriedly began stuffing stacks of cash into the bags.
Behind him a woman began screaming hysterically. She would not stop.
"Shut her up damn it," said Jim.
"SHUT UP!" shouted the man with the pistol. "I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP." She would not stop.
"Shut her up NOW!" shouted Jim, "and give me your bags, we need to get moving." The man with the shogun threw Jim the other bags.
"SHUT UP!" the man with the pistol was still shouting. Finally he kicked her over then shot her.
"Damn it dude," said the man with the machine gun, "why don't you call the fuckin' cops yourself?"
Jim was still making sure the clerk was filling the bags with cash. Once he was finished Jim told them to grab the bags and get moving. He shot the clerk in the head.
"You, finish up here," he said motioning to the man with the machine gun. The man nodded. He turned and shot the rest of the people then ran out and got into the van. The van driver pressed down the gas and began driving away just as two cop cars came screeching around the corner. Then the chase began. Jim opened one side of the back door and grabbing the machine gun began firing at the police. The police fired back.
"Shit, we're fucked man, we ain't gettin' outta this now!" said the driver.
"Keep driving!" shouted Jim. The man with the shotgun leaned out the front driver side window and began shooting as well. When his shotgun was out of ammo he reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin and threw it right at the front police car. The grenade broke through the glass and landed in the car. The cop car exploded and the other car in the back ran into it, spun out and hit another car parked on the street, causing a massive pile up to happen.
"Good one!" said Jim smiling at the man.
They drove away out into the desert, only stopping once they were a good ways away from the town. They pulled off into a small valley area that used to be a mining facility. It had been shut down years ago due to a radiation leak, but they were pretty sure it was safe to be down there now. They were hidden from view and no one would ever come looking for them there. The five of them got out of the van and began shaking hand and patting each other on the back.
"You all did great," said Jim, "especially you buddy." He ruffled the driver's hair. The driver was young, n more than eighteen. But Jim didn't care. He stepped back from them all, smiling, then pulled his .44 and quickly shot them all down dead. He nodded his head and then holstered his gun. Whistling a merry tune he loaded up the guns and the cash into the second car they had waiting for them there, an SUV, and climbed in and began driving away.
Still whistling he pulled into a gas station a few miles down the road to fill up and grab a few snacks. He was still dressed the same except he had taken his bandanna off his face. He pulled up t the pump and stepped out of the car. It was not uncommon for people to be wearing guns on their hips, so when he walked into the store the middle aged man at the counter smiled and nodded at him. Jim walked to the drink section and and stared at the different drinks through the glass for a minute. Finally he opened the case and grabbed a bottle of cola and then walked over to the rack of snacks. He stood there for another minute. He grabbed a bag of peanut butter crackers and then approached the counter. He set his snacks on the counter and pulled out his wallet, taking out a fifty dollar bill. He set it on the counter.
"What ever is left put on the pump for gas," Jim said in a bored voice. He felt sluggish. He almost felt sick.
"Alrighty then," said the store owner with a a smile. "Alright so it's $2.15 for the cola and crackers, so that leaves $47.85 for the pump." He began typing the numbers into the machine. "Did you hear about the bank robbery in Minnot? It's only about thirty miles up north there. Bunch of people got murdered in it. It was just on the radio, the guys were headed down this way in a van. I'm ready if they show up here." He nodded towards the corner where a shotgun was leaning against the wall, and he patted his hip where he was holstering a pistol. "I won't let them get out of here without a fight."
"It's amazing how quickly news gets around," said Jim flatly.
"Oh I know, modern technology is pretty amazing," the man said. "Alrighty, well here you are, your receipt and the pump is already." The man handed the paper to Jim happily. Jim didn't take it, he just kept staring at the owner. "Um...is everything alright, sir?"
"Why do you think those guys did it? Why do you think they robbed that bank and murdered those people?"
"Well...I expect it was for the money."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say." Jim pulled his gun and shot the store owner in the head. He smiled and walked out to the pump. He filled the tank and walked back into the store. he picked up a basket this time and filled it with more food and some water bottles. "Thank you kindly," he said to the dead owner as he left. He climbed into the SUV and began driving.
He thought about the gas station owner's answer to his question. His answer was wrong. It wasn't about the money. The money was a perk. What it really was about was control. Jim had organized his team, roped them in with lies about sharing the cash. They helped him get away, then he killed them. It was the first time Jim and been in control of anything. It was first time he had felt powerful. It had been the first time he had felt like he had done something that would make him a man. Now people would respect him. Now he could treat people like shit, and people would be too scared to do anything about it. He was in charge now.
* * *
"So tell us what happened," said the police officer to the homeless man.
"Well, I done see the car drivin' up the road, and so I think, I'll ask for a ride. But as he drivin' up dat jackrabbit come runnin' 'cross the road, and dat guy just, he just swerve his car to not hit it, but he lose control and go flyin' off da road into dat tree."
The cops had found the crashed SUV and Jim Burnson's dead body inside the day after the bank robbery. The homeless man had seen the whole thing and was more than happy to tell anyone who would listen what had happened. They had found the other robbers' bodies and the van at the old mining site, as well as the dead gas station owner.
"He crashed trying not to hit a rabbit," said one of the cops with a small laugh.
"I know right? He kills all those people but dies trying to to kill a damn rabbit," said the other cop. They stood staring at the wreck shaking their heads.
"People are crazy," said the first cop.
"You can say that again," the second cop said with a chuckle looking at the homeless man waving his arms around, telling and showing a paramedic what had happened.
"Fill the bags now, and do it quickly," he said. The clerk hurriedly began stuffing stacks of cash into the bags.
Behind him a woman began screaming hysterically. She would not stop.
"Shut her up damn it," said Jim.
"SHUT UP!" shouted the man with the pistol. "I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP." She would not stop.
"Shut her up NOW!" shouted Jim, "and give me your bags, we need to get moving." The man with the shogun threw Jim the other bags.
"SHUT UP!" the man with the pistol was still shouting. Finally he kicked her over then shot her.
"Damn it dude," said the man with the machine gun, "why don't you call the fuckin' cops yourself?"
Jim was still making sure the clerk was filling the bags with cash. Once he was finished Jim told them to grab the bags and get moving. He shot the clerk in the head.
"You, finish up here," he said motioning to the man with the machine gun. The man nodded. He turned and shot the rest of the people then ran out and got into the van. The van driver pressed down the gas and began driving away just as two cop cars came screeching around the corner. Then the chase began. Jim opened one side of the back door and grabbing the machine gun began firing at the police. The police fired back.
"Shit, we're fucked man, we ain't gettin' outta this now!" said the driver.
"Keep driving!" shouted Jim. The man with the shotgun leaned out the front driver side window and began shooting as well. When his shotgun was out of ammo he reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin and threw it right at the front police car. The grenade broke through the glass and landed in the car. The cop car exploded and the other car in the back ran into it, spun out and hit another car parked on the street, causing a massive pile up to happen.
"Good one!" said Jim smiling at the man.
They drove away out into the desert, only stopping once they were a good ways away from the town. They pulled off into a small valley area that used to be a mining facility. It had been shut down years ago due to a radiation leak, but they were pretty sure it was safe to be down there now. They were hidden from view and no one would ever come looking for them there. The five of them got out of the van and began shaking hand and patting each other on the back.
"You all did great," said Jim, "especially you buddy." He ruffled the driver's hair. The driver was young, n more than eighteen. But Jim didn't care. He stepped back from them all, smiling, then pulled his .44 and quickly shot them all down dead. He nodded his head and then holstered his gun. Whistling a merry tune he loaded up the guns and the cash into the second car they had waiting for them there, an SUV, and climbed in and began driving away.
Still whistling he pulled into a gas station a few miles down the road to fill up and grab a few snacks. He was still dressed the same except he had taken his bandanna off his face. He pulled up t the pump and stepped out of the car. It was not uncommon for people to be wearing guns on their hips, so when he walked into the store the middle aged man at the counter smiled and nodded at him. Jim walked to the drink section and and stared at the different drinks through the glass for a minute. Finally he opened the case and grabbed a bottle of cola and then walked over to the rack of snacks. He stood there for another minute. He grabbed a bag of peanut butter crackers and then approached the counter. He set his snacks on the counter and pulled out his wallet, taking out a fifty dollar bill. He set it on the counter.
"What ever is left put on the pump for gas," Jim said in a bored voice. He felt sluggish. He almost felt sick.
"Alrighty then," said the store owner with a a smile. "Alright so it's $2.15 for the cola and crackers, so that leaves $47.85 for the pump." He began typing the numbers into the machine. "Did you hear about the bank robbery in Minnot? It's only about thirty miles up north there. Bunch of people got murdered in it. It was just on the radio, the guys were headed down this way in a van. I'm ready if they show up here." He nodded towards the corner where a shotgun was leaning against the wall, and he patted his hip where he was holstering a pistol. "I won't let them get out of here without a fight."
"It's amazing how quickly news gets around," said Jim flatly.
"Oh I know, modern technology is pretty amazing," the man said. "Alrighty, well here you are, your receipt and the pump is already." The man handed the paper to Jim happily. Jim didn't take it, he just kept staring at the owner. "Um...is everything alright, sir?"
"Why do you think those guys did it? Why do you think they robbed that bank and murdered those people?"
"Well...I expect it was for the money."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say." Jim pulled his gun and shot the store owner in the head. He smiled and walked out to the pump. He filled the tank and walked back into the store. he picked up a basket this time and filled it with more food and some water bottles. "Thank you kindly," he said to the dead owner as he left. He climbed into the SUV and began driving.
He thought about the gas station owner's answer to his question. His answer was wrong. It wasn't about the money. The money was a perk. What it really was about was control. Jim had organized his team, roped them in with lies about sharing the cash. They helped him get away, then he killed them. It was the first time Jim and been in control of anything. It was first time he had felt powerful. It had been the first time he had felt like he had done something that would make him a man. Now people would respect him. Now he could treat people like shit, and people would be too scared to do anything about it. He was in charge now.
* * *
"So tell us what happened," said the police officer to the homeless man.
"Well, I done see the car drivin' up the road, and so I think, I'll ask for a ride. But as he drivin' up dat jackrabbit come runnin' 'cross the road, and dat guy just, he just swerve his car to not hit it, but he lose control and go flyin' off da road into dat tree."
The cops had found the crashed SUV and Jim Burnson's dead body inside the day after the bank robbery. The homeless man had seen the whole thing and was more than happy to tell anyone who would listen what had happened. They had found the other robbers' bodies and the van at the old mining site, as well as the dead gas station owner.
"He crashed trying not to hit a rabbit," said one of the cops with a small laugh.
"I know right? He kills all those people but dies trying to to kill a damn rabbit," said the other cop. They stood staring at the wreck shaking their heads.
"People are crazy," said the first cop.
"You can say that again," the second cop said with a chuckle looking at the homeless man waving his arms around, telling and showing a paramedic what had happened.
Monday, May 20, 2013
I'm Not Alive
I would love to see the sun
To feel it warm my skin
I would love to jump and run
I would love to feel the wind
Rush through my hair, across my face
See the clouds in the sky
See the stars and moon at night
I would do anything to remember her name
Or anyone's name at all
I would love to see their faces
It would make m happy to just see someone
Or maybe even something, anything at all
But this is not possible
I will never see anything
I will never feel anything again
Because I'm not alive.
To feel it warm my skin
I would love to jump and run
I would love to feel the wind
Rush through my hair, across my face
See the clouds in the sky
See the stars and moon at night
I would do anything to remember her name
Or anyone's name at all
I would love to see their faces
It would make m happy to just see someone
Or maybe even something, anything at all
But this is not possible
I will never see anything
I will never feel anything again
Because I'm not alive.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
The Girl On The Bus
I stood at my stop waiting to take the bus home as usual. It pulled up to the stop and I got on, marching towards my usual seat at the back of the bus. She was sitting in my seat next to the window, legs crossed on the seat and staring out the window. I sat down next to her and the bus began moving. I looked over at her. She was wearing faded tan jeans, and a white tank top that was frayed at the edges. Her feet were bare and she had a bracelet on her right ankle. She had bracelets on her wrists, and her hands were gently tapping her legs as though she was playing the piano. She had long, thick brown hair that blew in the wind and she wore a slight smile on her face, her eyes closed. She was attractive, in fact she was beautiful. But as I watched her something else attracted me to her, it made me fall in love with her, in a matter of minutes. I can't explain what it was. Like a spell of some sort, I knew that I had to meet her. I dropped my wallet, sort of tossed it towards her. She noticed and bent over to pick it up.
"Oh thanks," I say leaning forward to take it from her, almost too eagerly.
"No problem," she says turning back towards the window.
"I'm Ethan," I say to her, trying to not let what sad conversation we had had die away. She seems slightly surprised, but tells me her name as well.
"I'm Tesla," she says with a dazzling smile. Her teeth and white and straight, perfect.
"Nice to meet you Tesla," I say, "That's a pretty awesome name!" She laughs.
"Thank you, the name Ethan is pretty cool too. It sound like, old fashioned westernish...you know?" We both laugh.
"Yeah I guess it does, that's cool then. I like old western times."
"What kind of music do you like?" she asks, motioning towards my MP3 player and headphones sitting in my lap.
"Oh," I say, "anything really, but I really like metal. What about you?"
"Classical, piano music," she says closing her eyes and smiling. "Oh I love it."
"Do you play the piano?"
"I do, when I can. I don't own one, so I usually take the bus once a week downtown and play the pianos in music stores and such. I taught myself everything I know, all on pianos not my own." She laughs slightly.
"That's pretty impressive."
"I suppose...what about you? Do you play any instruments?"
"Yeah, I play guitar and bass, mess around with the ukulele a bit, I sing too...I used to play piano but I sort of gave up on that.... regrettably. I should have stuck with it."
"Well that's impressive, you play multiple instruments."
"Haha, well I guess, but I'm not that great at them, no better than the average-Joe. There's plenty of better musicians out there."
"I bet there are. There is always someone better than you at some point. Even if you become the best, someone will eventually get better and become the new best."
"Yeah..."
We are quiet for a moment, listening to the roar of the bus as it makes its way up the hill.
"What are you up to tonight?" she asks.
"Just heading home from work," I say. "You?"
"Just heading home from playing the piano, haha. Where do you get off at?"
"Two stops from here."
"Me too! I take the old canyon road home."
"Same! We can walk together, at least part way."
"Cool." She smiles at me again. I feel warm and peaceful, and I don't even know why. The bus approaches our stop, so I pull the cord to signal to the driver, and she stops the bus. Me and Tesla exit, and begin walking.
"So, do you have a girlfriend?" she asks me. "Just curious."
"No, not really...do you have a boyfriend?"
"Nope. What does 'not really' mean?"
"Well...No, I don't have a girlfriend."
"Ah." She seems to be getting closer, but it must be just me. "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?" She asks.
"Nope, you had a boyfriend?"
"One, well...not really...I mean, we grew up together. He died a few years ago though."
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"Well, shit happens." Her mood had changed. Se went from playful and happy to somber, and she slowed down as well. "Have you ever kissed a girl?" She stops and looks at me.
"Erm...yeah, a few, but not in a while. Haha. Why?"
She smiles at me mischievously and moves close to me. She looks straight into my eyes. "Kiss me." She says. I don't know how to react. We're so close together, our lips only a couple inches apart. So I kiss her. Our lips meet, our eyes close, and we kiss for what feels like hours. When we break apart we are both smiling.
"This is my road," she says nodding to a side road across the street.
"Do you have to go?" I ask. I don't know this girl, but I just kissed her...and there is something about her...I don't want to say goodbye.
"I should go...my parents will worry...and I'm sure yours will too."
"Yeah...well maybe we'll see each other again?"
"I hope so." She smiles at me before turning and running lightly and swiftly down the road, disappearing around a corner.
I keep on smiling as I walk home.
"Oh thanks," I say leaning forward to take it from her, almost too eagerly.
"No problem," she says turning back towards the window.
"I'm Ethan," I say to her, trying to not let what sad conversation we had had die away. She seems slightly surprised, but tells me her name as well.
"I'm Tesla," she says with a dazzling smile. Her teeth and white and straight, perfect.
"Nice to meet you Tesla," I say, "That's a pretty awesome name!" She laughs.
"Thank you, the name Ethan is pretty cool too. It sound like, old fashioned westernish...you know?" We both laugh.
"Yeah I guess it does, that's cool then. I like old western times."
"What kind of music do you like?" she asks, motioning towards my MP3 player and headphones sitting in my lap.
"Oh," I say, "anything really, but I really like metal. What about you?"
"Classical, piano music," she says closing her eyes and smiling. "Oh I love it."
"Do you play the piano?"
"I do, when I can. I don't own one, so I usually take the bus once a week downtown and play the pianos in music stores and such. I taught myself everything I know, all on pianos not my own." She laughs slightly.
"That's pretty impressive."
"I suppose...what about you? Do you play any instruments?"
"Yeah, I play guitar and bass, mess around with the ukulele a bit, I sing too...I used to play piano but I sort of gave up on that.... regrettably. I should have stuck with it."
"Well that's impressive, you play multiple instruments."
"Haha, well I guess, but I'm not that great at them, no better than the average-Joe. There's plenty of better musicians out there."
"I bet there are. There is always someone better than you at some point. Even if you become the best, someone will eventually get better and become the new best."
"Yeah..."
We are quiet for a moment, listening to the roar of the bus as it makes its way up the hill.
"What are you up to tonight?" she asks.
"Just heading home from work," I say. "You?"
"Just heading home from playing the piano, haha. Where do you get off at?"
"Two stops from here."
"Me too! I take the old canyon road home."
"Same! We can walk together, at least part way."
"Cool." She smiles at me again. I feel warm and peaceful, and I don't even know why. The bus approaches our stop, so I pull the cord to signal to the driver, and she stops the bus. Me and Tesla exit, and begin walking.
"So, do you have a girlfriend?" she asks me. "Just curious."
"No, not really...do you have a boyfriend?"
"Nope. What does 'not really' mean?"
"Well...No, I don't have a girlfriend."
"Ah." She seems to be getting closer, but it must be just me. "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?" She asks.
"Nope, you had a boyfriend?"
"One, well...not really...I mean, we grew up together. He died a few years ago though."
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"Well, shit happens." Her mood had changed. Se went from playful and happy to somber, and she slowed down as well. "Have you ever kissed a girl?" She stops and looks at me.
"Erm...yeah, a few, but not in a while. Haha. Why?"
She smiles at me mischievously and moves close to me. She looks straight into my eyes. "Kiss me." She says. I don't know how to react. We're so close together, our lips only a couple inches apart. So I kiss her. Our lips meet, our eyes close, and we kiss for what feels like hours. When we break apart we are both smiling.
"This is my road," she says nodding to a side road across the street.
"Do you have to go?" I ask. I don't know this girl, but I just kissed her...and there is something about her...I don't want to say goodbye.
"I should go...my parents will worry...and I'm sure yours will too."
"Yeah...well maybe we'll see each other again?"
"I hope so." She smiles at me before turning and running lightly and swiftly down the road, disappearing around a corner.
I keep on smiling as I walk home.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Valley
Deep in a forest lay a deep valley
There were rocks, broken bones
There lay bodies of the fallen, and burnt stones
Deep in the badlands, the wolves did rally
Marking their prey, marking their tally
To turn the fire towards their friends
Liars and thieves their words end
But behold, they would fall before the valley
The sun begins to shine and break,
Through the clouds, the storm approaching,
Crashes into light and bleeds in the sky
Horror! Horror! they cry for their sake
But it is too late, the win they are holding
Crush the bloody mass, the light will defy.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Friends
"Well I don't know what to tell you Matt," said Jim swishing the beer around in his mug. They sat on bar stools at the bar counter, and were finishing up their first glasses of bear, soon to start on their seconds.
"She won't answer her phone at all...I don't know what to do man," Matt sighed. He felt ashamed.
"Maybe you should try just going home?" suggested Jim.
"No, she told me she'd call the cops if I came back..." Matt grumbled as he sipped his beer.
"Well I just don't know what to tell you man," Jim repeated.
Matt and his wife, Amanda, had been arguing. They'd been married for three years now. The first two years had been awesome, magical, and completely fairy-tale. They both had great jobs, and loved each other, but things changed a year ago. For some reason they began fighting, a lot; usually about stupid things that they never remembered. So now they both still had great jobs, but their marriage was less than fantastic. Last night, things had gotten out of hand. Matt had gotten home from work, and made dinner for himself, but none for Amanda. He had thought she would be getting back late from the hospital, and being as tired as he was decided to not make her any food. She had gotten back just as he was finishing his dinner, and seeing that he had not made any for her as he usually did, she was upset. So thus the argument started. Matt didn't know why or how he had gotten so angry, but he did remember yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs, then steeping towards her and smacking her across the cheek. She had stepped back and stared at him in surprise as tear filled her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks. He had backed away from her, appalled at himself. She had told him to get out, and that if he came back she would call the cops. He had grabbed his keys and a jacket, got into his truck and driven away. He drove to Jim's house, and Jim's wife Clair said it would be good for them to go out and talk. Jim and Clair were always happy, and even if they did argue it was always quietly and calmly talked out. Matt admired them for this, and wished that he could be as cool as Jim. So here they sat at the bar, talking, drinking beer, trying to figure out what Matt should do.
"What if she won't take me back?" Matt asked sadly.
"Naw man, just give her some space, " replied Jim, "I bet you anything Clair is talking with her right now. She'll cool down and you guys will talk it out, it'll be fine man...I don't know...just wait it out. Women can be very forgiving, trust me. Clair's forgiven me for some really crappy stuff: Amanda will come around, don't worry. But Matt, I swear if you ever hit her again I'll beat the shit out of you."
"That sounds like a good deal, Jim," said Matt with a smile, but he knew Jim wasn't joking, and neither was he. He was glad they were friends.
"She won't answer her phone at all...I don't know what to do man," Matt sighed. He felt ashamed.
"Maybe you should try just going home?" suggested Jim.
"No, she told me she'd call the cops if I came back..." Matt grumbled as he sipped his beer.
"Well I just don't know what to tell you man," Jim repeated.
Matt and his wife, Amanda, had been arguing. They'd been married for three years now. The first two years had been awesome, magical, and completely fairy-tale. They both had great jobs, and loved each other, but things changed a year ago. For some reason they began fighting, a lot; usually about stupid things that they never remembered. So now they both still had great jobs, but their marriage was less than fantastic. Last night, things had gotten out of hand. Matt had gotten home from work, and made dinner for himself, but none for Amanda. He had thought she would be getting back late from the hospital, and being as tired as he was decided to not make her any food. She had gotten back just as he was finishing his dinner, and seeing that he had not made any for her as he usually did, she was upset. So thus the argument started. Matt didn't know why or how he had gotten so angry, but he did remember yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs, then steeping towards her and smacking her across the cheek. She had stepped back and stared at him in surprise as tear filled her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks. He had backed away from her, appalled at himself. She had told him to get out, and that if he came back she would call the cops. He had grabbed his keys and a jacket, got into his truck and driven away. He drove to Jim's house, and Jim's wife Clair said it would be good for them to go out and talk. Jim and Clair were always happy, and even if they did argue it was always quietly and calmly talked out. Matt admired them for this, and wished that he could be as cool as Jim. So here they sat at the bar, talking, drinking beer, trying to figure out what Matt should do.
"What if she won't take me back?" Matt asked sadly.
"Naw man, just give her some space, " replied Jim, "I bet you anything Clair is talking with her right now. She'll cool down and you guys will talk it out, it'll be fine man...I don't know...just wait it out. Women can be very forgiving, trust me. Clair's forgiven me for some really crappy stuff: Amanda will come around, don't worry. But Matt, I swear if you ever hit her again I'll beat the shit out of you."
"That sounds like a good deal, Jim," said Matt with a smile, but he knew Jim wasn't joking, and neither was he. He was glad they were friends.
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