Archive for category creative writing
As the girls’ laughter wafted through the air Anna shifted uncomfortably in her sit, sliding her knees farther under the table until her belt buckle caught on the edge giving her a slight jab in the gut. Her stomach was already crawling its way up her throat and that didn’t help. She was just grateful it didn’t make any noise and no one seemed to notice.
Deciding it would be easier to pretend to be engrossed in her homework if she was actually doing her homework. She went about ignoring them no matter what animal like noises they started making next. Anna was slowly unzipping her backpack and quickly reaching for her biology book when the next big rush of cackling started. Urgently wishing her friends, Abby and Chrissy would hurry up and join her so she didn’t feel so alone. Where are they? Shouldn’t their classes be over by now? I hate sitting here alone like a loser. Flipping through the pages and settling on Chapter 5: Predator/Prey Relationships Anna couldn’t help rolling her eyes wondering why she’d ever need this information.
The food chain is an intricate system that is vital to all ecosystems. Larger, stronger and more aggressive predators consume smaller and weaker prey.
She tried to slyly peek over her left shoulder to confirm that the table in question indeed wasn’t paying her any mind. Are they laughing at me? Three of the girls, the blondes, were facing her most directly. She could see that their perfectly long hair, curled to perfection was perfectly resting on the table below where it perfectly caressed their perfectly sized and perfectly shaped breasts as the leaned forward, elbows on the table, so as to not have their juicy gossip overheard. Are they talking about me? They all suddenly screeched in delighted and threw themselves onto the backs of their chairs unable to contain their laughter. Anna quickly turned her head back around, dropping her chin to appear that she was enthralled with what she was reading and not, in fact, paying any attention to them. Oh crap, did they see me looking? Her back got hot as she became convinced that they had seen her watching. She was panicking, unsure if it would be better to turn around or continue to pretend she didn’t even know they were there. Just keep reading and don’t look up.
These weaker prey, however, are often actually stronger than some other creatures which are then its prey and so on and so on. Creating what it known as the food chain.
Anna’s mind was wandering as she began staring at the table in front of her with the two boys that always sat there together. They weren’t exactly the most popular although in some ways that wasn’t true. They weren’t popular because of no one liked them but everyone did know who they were, and avoided them. They were a little weird and usually not clean. Anna was stuck behind one in her history class she remembered and spent the term praying he wouldn’t turn around or try to talk to her; he never did. Thank goodness. She couldn’t imagine how they didn’t seem to care enough to stop being so odd. Just take a shower, wash your clothes and be normal; how hard is that? Shaking her head in disgust she went back to reading. What does any of this have to do with me?
Jenny woke up, turned off her alarm and rolled over in bed expecting him to be there. He wasn’t. Again. Even though she was disappointed every time the fog of sleep lifted and reality swept in she still lived for that millisecond when, in her sleepy funk, all is right in her world.
The soccer shoes don’t seem to be able to hold still; must be in the middle of an imaginary match.
The work boots are dirty, worn and tired.
The sandals don’t care that they need pedicure if they’re going to have their toes out in the open like that.
High top Converse; there’s a throw back, I doubt that kid even knows how historic those shoes are.
Pristine, shiny black leather Italian loafers, oh, the doctor will see me now.
It’s Friday night and after a long exhausting week at work I decide a beer at the local pub would be a nice way to unwind. I do this fairly often and am looking forward to exchanging pleasantries and listening to a little mindless drivel from the barflies and then be on my way home. I walk in and all is as it should be. The relaxed atmosphere almost immediately takes over me and the week slowly begins to slip away from memory. I pick out a barstool, ask for what’s on tap and settle into my perch while tuning my ears to the sounds of the conversations around me deciding which is the least cerebral. To my left, I notice a kindly older gentleman fumbling with his stool. He is no more than 5’5, wearing a 50’s style flannel suit, with a smoking pipe hanging out of the right side of his mouth. The smell of the pipe fills me and at once takes me back to evenings with my grandfather. This man reminds me much of my pappy, I know I should reach over and give him a hand with his unruly seat but something catches my eye. It takes a good long minute for what I am looking at to sink in. I am certainly familiar with what a cat looks like but was never expecting to see one in a bar. The man sees me looking and smiles at me as he finally settles himself and the cat into his seat next to me. I’m so taken with the scene that I don’t even notice the bartender bring him a coffee. The old man methodically scoops sugar into the cup and begins to stir. Then without looking away from the cup, he says to me very matter-of-factly,”This contact is illusory. The cat and I are separated as though by a pane of glass, because man lives in time, in successiveness, while the magical animal lives in the present,in the eternity of the instant.”
The jet black cat sheepishly looks up at him as if understanding and agreeing with what he said. With every gentle stroke the cat lifts his nose, flattens his ears and closes his eyes knowing the exact position every part of him must be in to get the most enjoyment from each caress. I can’t take my eyes off the little beast while contemplating the strange remark. This isn’t the idiotic blather I was hoping to encounter this evening. My first instinct is that maybe it, in fact, was just the crazy babble of a lonely old man. However, something in the sternness of his gaze and depths I can see in his eyes tell me that he knows very well what he is saying. This was a conclusion he had often contemplated and perhaps even something he had attempted to discuss with others. I still am not certain that I understand what he means but before I know it, I am responding, “There is something beautiful and freeing about living with no past or future to weigh on your mind. To only have this single moment to concern yourself with.” I feel like a moron the moment the last words leave my lips and think for sure I’m going to have this batty old man think I am the insane one in this odd conversation.
To my surprise he bolts up straight and turns his shoulders facing me, cocks his head a bit to the right and for the first time since entering the bar, stops petting his companion. “Indeed,” he replies almost in relief. He smiles as he lifts himself from the stool and drops off of it with his feet soundlessly hitting the floor. Gracefully, the man and his cat exit the bar, I am certain he never even took a sip of the still steaming coffee left in place where they had been sitting.
There’s my dad; sound asleep. I was given strict instructions not to let him miss the show we were watching together. So I yell, “Dad!”
His eye snap open as his head jerks my direction, “Whaaaa?” Freshly awaken people can’t annunciate very well.
“You were sleeping.” People hate admitting that they were asleep. I never understood this. It’s not like sleeping isn’t a natural function. You eat, you breathe, and you sleep. People just won’t face this.
Anyway, of course, being human, my dad denies he was asleep. I sat right here and watched him sleep, now he’s denying it all. How do I know he was asleep? Because I was awake and watching.
Well, I’m not going to stand for this injustice.
“Yes, you were.”
“I was resting my eye.” Now that’s crap. Resting his eyes? How exactally does one go about resting one’s eyes? Does one take them out of his skull and all them time off? That’s not what my dad was doing. He was sleeping, full force too; snoring breathing rapidly, the whole bit. There’s no doubt. He was asleep. Yet, I can see we’re going to fight about this. Another good way to totally waste time.
“You were asleep, wake up.” I’m no longer looking for a confession. I just want this hard-headed, eye rester, refuses to admit to guilt when sleeping, man to wake up. But no, we must battle out if he was sleeping or not. Which, he clearly was (in case I didn’t make that obvious by now). So the fight continues; ding, round two begins:
“I was not asleep.”
“Fine, wake up.”
“Wake up? I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Yea, ok, whatever.”
“I believe you.” I didn’t. But, now that we’ve both missed half of the show already, it no longer matters. I’m just trying to shut him up. Not working.
“Why do you think I was sleeping?”
Duh, I don’t know your lack of conscientiousness, “I didn’t.”
“Then, why’d you say ‘Wake up.’?”
Ok, that’s it! I’m going to blow. It’s to the point now that no one cares if he was asleep. Now, it’s some strange obessioin in his own mind. Somehow, as a very young child instead of being told not to cry, he was told not to sleep. So, we sit here and fight over if he was sleeping, the whole time missing the show…that he almost slept through, might I add.
“You know, Dad, I’m not sure why I said that.” I’m now trying anything to shut him up.
“Yes, you are. Why’d you say that?” So a grown man, my idol is really going to continue to argue over whether or not he fell asleep in a recliner while watching TV.
“I’m serious, I admit it. You weren’t sleeping. You were resting your eyes. Now let’s watch the show…and don’t fall asleep again.”
He slightly growls in my direction and turns back to the TV. I think he knows he was sleeping.
Sleep- (noun -not the commonly known verb to sleep, slumber) the whitish, oftentimes hard stuff that gathers at the inner and outer corners of one’s eye. Can be found mostly in the morning after first waking up but also does occasionally appear in the middle of the day, generally when doing something important or going on a first date. (This is of unknown origin and lab tests have proven inconclusive.)
Most famous quote: “Alarm clock rings and I rise, wipe the sleep out of my eyes…” -The Monkees “Daydream Believer”
Scree- (noun) white or sometimes clear stuff that gathers at the corners of one’s mouth for no apparent reason. Can be found anytime of day with no regard to mealtime. Believed to be closely associated with the noun sleep. (This too is of unknown origin and lab tests have proven inconclusive.)
“I would have hired him but he had so much scree on his mouth he could hardly talk.”
A bright tombstone lethargically exploded from the field. The grass and trees bowed from the force as a way of showing homage. Unfortunately, the clouds refused to allow this hopeful being into their domain. Fortunately, the sea below opened up lovingly embracing the rejected beast. Finally, the tombstone rested in the depths of the water and remained there for eternity.