"Being a good writer is 3% talent, 97% not being distracted by the internet." Cyrus Farivar

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Cowardly Lion

            He was rooted just outside the door. A cacophony of voices flooded the otherwise quiet hallway each time it was opened. Trying to work himself up to entering, he would back away and pace by the windows. The way he paced reminded him of a caged tiger. But he was no fearless tiger; more like the Cowardly Lion.
            Crowds were never his “thing.” In fact, he had done well to avoid them, especially when located in small spaces. Now, he could never get away. Being married to a princess had its benefits… and of course his biggest fear. Swallowing as he tugged at his tie, he once again approached the door—unfortunately chickening out at the last minute. Returning to the windows in defeat, he sighed.
            Someone must have mentioned to the princess that her husband was struggling, for moments later, she came around the corner. She glowed as she approached, her smile instantly brightening his otherwise dismal mood.
            She needn’t speak a word. Slipping her hand in his, their fingers entwined and she pressed her lips to his. The shaking he had developed  seemed to dissipate as they separated. Fixing his tie with her free hand, she turned and took his arm.
            They would enter together.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Morning Trek {ver. 2.0}


I love the minds of children, and how creative they can be. It's why I love watching Toy Story so much, especially TS3 because Bonnie is the child all of us remember being and still wish we were (in some ways). This is dedicated to the little boy I drive by with his dad every morning. I hope he continues to have as grand of adventures as I did.

Morning Trek


The birds had yet to greet the rising sun. In fact, the sun hadn’t even graced the tree tops to light his way. Villagers were still dozing in their beds, remaining close to loved ones and happy to burrow in the warmth of their blankets. But that wasn’t the same for this pair. They continued towards their destination; a monster that would take them to another far off land. Exhaling, their breath spiraled into the chilly air.
            Yesterday, they were in a desert, protecting the townsfolk as a sheriff and his trusty steed. The bandits that terrorized the lazy town always sent up a dust cloud in their wake—a warning of their impending arrival. But he was always prepared to ward them off with some quick shooting before swinging by the saloon for a tall glass of chocolate milk.
            Today, he was going to battle a ferocious dragon. His stallion was once again by his side, ready to help him defeat this beast that would unavoidably whisk the pair off in his belly. They would be separated for a time after the battle, only to be reunited to return to his plucky little village on the hillside. He wanted to make his family proud of his victories.
            Tomorrow, pirate aliens would invade, leaving him the savior of the universe to fight them off. And perhaps there would be help from the dinosaurs, ninjas and superheroes on vacation from their own cities.
            The young knight was brought from his thoughts as his horse tugged on his arm; a signal he was lagging behind. In moments, he was properly saddled, riding high for the remainder of the journey. Judging by his surroundings, they were steadily nearing the dragon’s hunting spot—one of many. Soon, his battle would begin.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Morning Trek


Every morning driving to work, I see this father and son walking to the nearest bus stop. I don't know how far away they walk from, or how early the two of them get up. But I've always wondered where they go once they get on the bus. I assume work and preschool/daycare, but perhaps they have a grand adventure every day. This is definitely going to be rewritten in the future.

Morning Trek         


            The birds had yet to greet the rising sun. In fact, the street lights were lit, their orange glow gracing the sidewalk. Few cars passed, and even less departed the drive ways they strolled by. Quiet. Together, the pair continued on. Their destination was far ahead; a bus stop that would be to work and preschool. Exhaling, their breath spiraled and disappeared in the chilly air.
            The smaller lagged behind, his shorter legs unable to keep up with his dad’s. For a moment, the man paused to let him catch up; it was early for a small child to be awake, even if they did this every morning. Picking up the boy, he settled him on his shoulders and they continued their trek.
            Down another street and a short hill, they finally reached the crosswalk—almost there. A lone car slowed, letting them cross. Resting on the shoulders of his personal giant, he held on with one hand while the other tried to warm the tip of his nose. The bus would be warm, and he could nap until they arrived. That’s what he always looked forward to.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Inevitable

            Everything in the room beeped. Or at least they had some kind of bell or whistle. The most prominent being the heart monitor. It was calming to hear it consistently peep with each pulse; the line steady with each flicker. Two days had passed, and there was still no change. He’d barely left her bedside; peeling himself away to go eat and shower, or visit their newborn in the nursery. By this point, he knew his way around the hospital with his eyes closed. Every few hours of sitting in his wife’s room, he’d wander to hold their daughter.
            But now, he was back to her room; he hoped today would be when he’d see her eyes open. When squeezing her hand would result in a response and finally she could meet their baby. Reaching over, he took her hand and pressed his lips to the back and held it between both of his palms. Beep. Beep. Beep. Her pulse remained as unchanged as it had two days ago after her emergency C-section. Pressing her hand to his cheek, he wished to feel her fingers through his hair or hold her close and inhale her fruity shampoo. Kissing her hand once more, his eyes focused on her face, currently marred by the wires and breathing mask.
            In the back of his weary mind, there was doubt that she would never open her eyes again; that they would never be a family. The inevitable. He couldn’t imagine being alone to raise their daughter, to know that they would never be together again.
            Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts, he reached up to wipe the tears that were slipping down his cheeks. The door opened, revealing a doctor to update the charts. Glancing to the woman, he watched her check the fluids and jot a few things down before she turned to retreat. Pausing, she placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him an encouraging smile. A moment later, she was gone and he was once again alone. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Numb


            He flinched as another car drove past. It had become a habit every time he heard an engine approach. Standing frozen for a moment, he could barely feel the cascade of frigid water collide with his chilled skin. Rain had been pouring for several hours, which had quickly drenched him. Numb and completely dazed, he let his feet lead him. His destination didn’t matter; it was just somewhere far away.
            Another car passed, this one sending a large wave in its wake. Observing the red lights as they disappeared around a corner, he kept walking. This road was familiar, a distant memory he couldn’t quite reach. The last time he’d been this way was thirteen years ago. Now, here he was searching for comfort in a town he had called home in a life he vacated after tragedy.
            Roaming up a grassy hill, he slipped a few times, mud adding to his already disheveled state. Pausing as the rain continued, he skimmed the stones. The grave markers were older, showing their age by the amount of moss each was caked in. Finally he spied the double-wide headstone; the only one that he wasn’t sure how he missed it upon first glance.
            Passing among the other plots, he paused at the one he recognized. Reaching out a tentative hand, he traced the names, his fingers easily slipping into the engraved letters. He missed them, even now that his old life was but distant memories.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

New Morning


            They sprinted across the sand; strewn shoes and socks left in their wake. The shore had yet to see sunlight. All they had to light their way were the beams from the coupe parked at the top of a dune. Laughing as they watched the waves crash on the beach, they stopped just beyond its reach.
            It tasted of salt, unmistakable being this close to the ocean. Hours had passed since they had left home. They wanted to see the ocean. The roar from the water greeted them, congratulating the group of their journey. No one had yet to set a toe into the vast liquid before them. Daring each other, they paused, trying to decide who would be brave enough to test its temperature.
            Shivering slightly at the wind, one took a step forward, leaving behind the slight warmth of the dry sand. A chill went up her spine as her bare feet moved towards the ebbing waves. Cold washed over her feet, she yelped in surprise. Others joined her, equally startled by the frigid water. Chuckling together, they wandered back up the beach to pause.
            The horizon’s edge slowly revealed a sliver of light, the colors going from black to blues. Finally, the sun was welcoming them; commending them on the accomplishment of the previous night. This was the start of an adventure. A new morning at what felt like the edge of the world.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Rivulets


 A potential for April's Flash Party theme of "The Long Drive." Yeah, it's early, and it feels early. Hahahaha. But please enjoy, even though I have no idea where they were headed.

Rivulets

            He curled into the front seat, eyes watching the rivulets of rain descend the smooth glass. Glancing to his Aunt, he could see her focus as she drove. It had been hours since they spoke. The radio had long been turned off—a lack of good news and reception.
            There hadn’t been a plan on the destination. She hauled him from his bed and forced him in the car. It had been the wee hours of the morning; birds had yet to sing their greetings to the sun and most hadn’t left for work. Virtually everything they owned had been left behind. Some boxes were on the backseat, but their contents were unknown to him. His only companion, Tosha, sprawled across a blanket on the floor.
            “I could drive too,” he offered, breaking the silence. Studying his Aunt, she continued with her eyes on the road.
            “You’ve no idea what to do,” she murmured. “More dangers lurkin’ about.”
            “If you tell me where we’re goin’ I could—“
            “Drivin’ straights all you need knowin’. You’ll be safe soon.” The roar of the engine filled the silence. Shifting in the seat, his eyes returned to stare out at the brooding clouds.