We Already Do

Written to the song "99 & 9" by Each & All - a HR manager at my work. She is phenomenal and I love her voice.

118 words.

We Already Do          

            Feeling the breeze whip past them, they huddled on the sand, staring out into the gray. It was straight through the night, which brought them to the ocean. Shoulders touching, they shivered as the wind streamed through their clothes as though they had none.

            Reaching over, she opened the pot, holding the lid in the hand not clenching the container. The contents were swept up, spreading out over the sea and dunes. Only the crashing of the waves filled the silence. After several minutes, it was empty and they remained.

            “We’ll really miss you, Willow,” he said, eyes out on the water.

            A smile crept on her face, tears at the corners of her eyes. “We already do.”

History

This actually spawned from a conversation with my mom. Not necessarily like this, but she thought Lincoln had a weird spelling. I thought people only named their kids Lincoln because they had a weird president fetish. C'est la vie.

198 words

History           

            “Lincoln? Who the fuck names their kid, Lincoln?”

            “Stop. He’s a nice guy and isn’t just someone to one-night-stand.” Rolling her eyes as she drank she glanced around the bar, taking in the availables, the couples and the creepers.

            “So when you two fuck, do you ask him to sign your Gettysburg Address?”

            “Or do you make him wear a tall hat and fake beard?” Nearly choking on her drink, she swallowed painfully, eyes shut.

            “The Gettysburg Address was a speech; didn’t you take US History? And no, we don’t reenact the President and his wife screwing in the 1800s,” she shook her head.

            “Well, I’d make him wear the hat at least,” Grace said, shrugging as she busied herself with her drink.

            “Or reenact as President Lincoln’s naughty intern he needs to punish,” Brie added. “Oh, Mr. Lincoln, I cut down that cherry tree and need to be punished,” she said, a sudden southern lilt to her voice. “Just bend me over your office desk and—“

            “Shut the hell up! I will date whoever I want!” She slammed her short glass on the tabletop. “Fuck you both.” Dropping some bills on the table she stormed off.

Trick Pony

I should really stop doing so much late night writing. But often times that's where I write the best.

376 words

Trick Pony

            Silas smirked, watching Charles pace; this was starting to become a common occurrence. “Haven’t you realized it yet, Charles? I’m only here when Devan is too afraid to say things to you or anyone,” he said, checking his nails.

            “Don’t grant yourself a fucking badge of bravery, Silas. Wouldn’t want your ego to get over inflated,” Charlie spat. “I’m his brother. Devan can tell me whatever the fuck he wants.”

            “He won’t. The last thing he wants is for you to commit him. And I’m sure that notion has passed through your mind on multiple occasions,” he said, looking at Charlie.

            “I promised our parents I wouldn’t do that, and I won’t,” Charlie said, stopping his movement to look at Silas. He took in the attire he had come to associate with this alter. “Just let me talk to Devan, Silas.” Staring down the personality with his arms crossed, he slammed his fists on the table not seeing him crack.

            “It’s not that simple, Charles. You know that,” Silas said, before his eyes got distant. Rolling his neck, he sighed before looking at him.

            “You’re not ready for it, Charlie,” Wally said, looking up at him, concern in his eyes. Charles rubbed his face, no longer hearing Silas’ accent.

            “Can’t you all just let me talk to my brother?”

            “Your fiancé is scared of him, Charlie. And all Devan wants is for Rose to accept him. He won’t hurt her. None of us will,” Wally said, draping the vest over the back of the chair.

            “You don’t know that. None of you do,” Charlie argued. “We can just up his dosage schedule more appointments,” he reasoned, running his hand through his hair.

            “It’s not that simple, Charlie. More drugs just means he’ll stay home. Either find the right cocktail or don’t force him through this,” Wally pleaded.

            “I never asked for this. I never asked for my parents to adopt a kid that was fucking insane and then dump him on me when they died!”

            “He understands that, Charlie. And he thanks you for looking out for him… But shouldn’t you just let him be himself for once? Not some drugged out zombie.”

            “Let me talk to Devan!”

            “He’s your brother, Charlie. Not some trick pony.”

Exist

 From the same character in Differences and Indoors.

256 words

Exist

            He could hear their laughter. Sitting against his door he could tell Rose was having a good time. She’d been so cautious about the baby shower – wanting him on a good day when he didn’t transition. Devan promised to stay upstairs; Ivy had shot him a look, hoping to silently reiterate how he shouldn’t come downstairs.

            It was the first time he spoke so calmly to them both – Silas not rearing his head for once. Looking at his soon-to-be sister-in-law, he reassured her he would stay in his room, be quiet and pretend he didn’t exist.

            So here he sat, listening to their chatter and laughs. Earlier he had been lying at the top of the stairs, just hidden from view. With his eyes closed, he followed their conversations, sewing together the gossip. He wondered if this was how he would always be – if he would always be on the outside peering in. Devan always wondered what life was like inside the fishbowl. Ever since this started he had to observe everyone’s life at a distance. No one got close to him; even Charlie remained cautious, and they were brothers.

            Ivy had come upstairs, found him resting on the landing as the women talked below. She didn’t say the first retort that came to mind, but instead stood above him and stared, arms crossed. Within moments, Devan was up and retreating to his room.

            Sighing, he got up from the door and left his warm spot behind. He’d preoccupy himself – stay quiet, pretend he didn’t exist.

Tethered

The song I wrote this to is absolutely beautiful. It's Tethered by Sleeping At Last. I was listening to this late last night, I just couldn't stop writing to it. There are a lot of meaningful lyrics in it. 

290 words.

Tethered

            It was a simple piece of cord. The fraying silk had finally torn after nearly five years. After all that time, her wrist felt naked, no longer holding that murmured promise from high school. That should have been the omen.

            Keeping the string close, she saw it between the billfolds of her wallet. She itched to call, to ask if hers had fallen off too. But each time she stared at her number, she recalled the distance in her voice; the one word answers, followed by hurried excuses and good-byes.

            They were finally meeting to catch up; coffee in the mid-afternoon. At the outer table, she sat anxious, toying with the silk between her fingers. Seeing her approach, she stood. After speaking for several minutes, she placed the string on the table.

            “You still have that?”

            “It was a promise. Of course I do.”

            “We weren’t promising to marry each other or anything,” she  shrugged. Opening her mouth to respond, something changed as someone approached their table. They shared a kiss before she turned. “Ash, this is Nick.” Ash stared at them, taking it all in. Her mind raced with all the conclusions she could make about his crew-cut, preppy polo and khakis; the subtle hints of make-up and highlights on her. In moments she was on her feet and striding from the table.

            “Ash, what’s wrong?” Pausing, she half-turned.

            “Where is yours?”

            “I don’t know. I cut it off or something.” That was all she needed to hear. A hand caught her wrist, urging her to stop.

            “Ash, come on, it was stupid.” Nick lingered behind her.

            “It was for ideals. So we’d never lose ourselves. Obviously we aren’t tethered anymore.” Jerking her hand free, she didn’t look back.