The Death scene...
14 years ago
Sunday, February 22, 2009
So its my day off. I was kinda pissed that the weather was actually decent today, you know, because recently I've had to go out on that damn boat in such shitty weather and now it's nice, on my day off. So with my time off I decided to clean the shithole I live in. I mean a cleaning has long been overdue so I thought I might do something good for myself. Then some little fuck pulled the fire alarm. I couldn't believe it. Maybe it's a sign that I should never try to do anything to better my life. Just accept my life sucks and keep on truckin. God damn it. So anyways I have to go outside into the cold while the fire department takes forever getting to the building and then some chick was saying they have to go through every floor. Wonderful, I got to be out in this damn cold all day long now. Anyways I went and picked up a 12 pack and headed over to the park to kill time. So I'm trying to find a place to sit and there's this one bench thats getting a lot of sun so I decided to head over there. There was some chick sitting on it also with some papers. She was thin but still good looking. I thought that maybe if I was lucky I wouldn't have to pay to get laid. So I sat down next to her and she threw me a dirty look, like I was a walking corpse or something. Nothing new to me but I shot a glance at her papers and saw she was writing poetry. You've got to be kidding me. That little defenseless chick lives here and squanders her time away with art. Honey needs a reality check because here that won't get you anything. All art really is just a waste of time and energy. It doesn't make a difference. What, seeing some painting or reading some novel is going to change my life. Yeah you can count on that happening. I'll quit my job and starve to death because my paintings suck. Thats a very noble lifestyle. Whatever, if all that chick does is write then maybe in a month I will be able to pay her for some pleasure. So I guess art is good for something.
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Fanny Mae woke up to a clear, snow-free day. It was still cold outside, so she bundled up and walked outside. There was no time to waste today, it was a beautiful day to walk around town and find a job. Fanny Mae was walking and found herself by the city park. She looked around at the dead trees and her eyes eventually fell on two people sitting on a park bench. One of them was a very creepy looking man who was hovering over the girl sitting next to him. The girl looked very uncomfortable, and was trying to ignore this man by concentrating on the papers in her hands. She suddenly looked up, waved at Fanny Mae, and bolted off the bench towards her.
ReplyDelete"Hey!"
"Hi?" said Fanny Mae
"Sorry I just had to pretend like I knew you until I got away from that guy. What a creeper! Anyways, my name's Sidda, what's yours?"
"I'm Fanny Mae Lewis."
"Nice to meet you. Man, I was so uncomfortable back there," Sidda said "I knew he was just like any other guy, only thinking about one thing!"
"Ain't that always the case." Fanny Mae muttered.
"What?"
"I just have experience in that area, I guess."
"You've been in some bad relationships?" Sidda asked.
"Well yeah, just one. My ex husband."
"Oh...I'm sorry..."
"Yep... He beat me. He would come home drunk, get really angry for some stupid reason and hit the livin' daylights outta me. I got bruuses all over. I would always tell myself it was just the alcohol and he really did love me. I mean, we'd been together since high school. I know it's cliché, but I was a cheerleader and he was the football quarterback.We were so happy." A smile spread across Fanny Mae's face, but she quickly wiped it away.
"Wow." Sidda said, rather speechless.
"Oh dear Lord, I am so sorry. I just spilled my whole life story to a perfect stranger. I reckon I just don't talk to a lotta people, especially in this new town."
"Oh, no its perfectly alright. Why did you move here anyways? This place is horribly drab."
Just as Fanny Mae was about to open her mouth, she noticed a large mass of people standing outside of Jupiter Apartments. She and Sidda ran to the scene and inquired as to what was going on.
"Some stupid ass kid pulled the fire alarm, scared us all half to death. You know the insurance on this place probably sucks." said a tall man with a rather large nose.
Relieved that there was no real fire, Fanny Mae wandered from the chaos down Rouse Boulevard, where a fire truck passed by with its deafening sirens. She eventually turned down Dublin Street and then on to Church Street found herself outside of the Jaguar, when she heard a noise.
"Psssst, hey you wanna job?" said the man standing in the frame of the front door.
Fanny Mae looked at the man and then up at the lopsided Jaguar sign. What is this place? she thought, I guess its like a restaurant or something. I do need a job, maybe I should check it out.
The second I placed my size 5 foot on the cold, icy concrete outside Jupiter Apartments, I knew I wouldn't be delivering any noodles today. It was a deceivingly nice day. The sun was shining, but those roads patched with ice and snow would be treacherous. The segway was not ready for those. Lu would understand.
ReplyDeleteThis morning's alarm clock was that of a ring more persistent than the routine sirens through the night. Somebody pulled the fire alarm, bringing all the residents of Jupiter Apartments together on Rouse Street. The culprit was identified when his mother made him confess that he was responsible for the wake-up call. That little boy around the corner was either crying for attention that his mother probably deprived him of, or he had become as bitter as the rest of the folks in this town and wanted to give everyone an early morning scare. Whatever the cause, he needed his meal at 1 PM, on the dot. However, I would not be making a fresh batch of noodles just for him. No, he will be receiving last night's fried rice.
As we all stumbled back to our rooms, a couple of my neighbors caught my eye. Sidda, or maybe it was Sydney, looked uncomfortable. Well, she always looked uncomfortable. But she had not yet tamed that lion-esque hair this morning, and she appeared very aware of that unfortunate situation. I could probably count on my child-sized hand the number of words we had ever exchanged. Then someone shooved past me, obviously, I think the proper term would be "pissed off", by what happened. It must have been that man with the standoffish demeanor, at least, distinctively moreso than the already cynical population here. If I had no fingers, I could count the words we had ever spoken to each other.
Once I got back to 404B, I slept for a couple more hours. When I woke up, I realized I was overdue for my monthly attempt to reconnect with those I had left behind in China. The coming and going sirens assured me that it was a very fitting day to stay in and complete this task. I searched for a pen and paper, and wrote, almost habitually, "Dear Shan, Please don't throw this away..."
Cold Sore
ReplyDeleteI have licked my lips so many times that they are slowly abrading. My once blood-luscious lips have been transformed into a coarse pair of kissers, accompanied by a conspicuous cold sore that lingers on the lop left corner of my mouth. Cold sores or Herpes simplex are most commonly considered remediable, this is true. However, if this common viral infection is not remedied or treated with standard hygiene, it becomes highly invasive and converts its symptoms to those identical to herpetic whitlow, a sickening disease where the virus spreads inter-histogically until it takes up an immense portion of ones epithelial tissue; creating distasteful bumps to sprout up allover. If I want to befriend, kill, then eat Felix, I can't have these despicable sores all over my body. This is why I must go into the city today, to get an antidote for this horrid infection.
Most people are manipulated by advertisements to buy defunct consumer products that claim to alleviate cold sore symptoms quickly. These advertisement claims are only partly true. They do alleviate cold sore symptoms, but not quickly. The most efficient cure for herpes is eicosapentaenoic acid, a common acid found in pretty much any non-tetrapod chordate. This acid is found in fish oils and significantly reduces superficial tissue inflammation. Fish scrap is free at pretty much any fish market whereas typical cold sore remedies are priced anywhere from $6-$30. For parsimonious and intelligent individuals (like myself) the free choice is far superior. So I have decided to abandon my home temporarily to visit the local market. The one problem with getting fish scrap in this city is that you have to interact with Donald James, the most miserable and bitchy fish sales man ever to touch foot on this God-forsaken earth. But even he is not as annoying as these bloody sirens which have been going off all day, creating a deafening cacophony even I can't ignore. Well off to the market I go.
Alexander Darcy was lying in bed still, pretending he didn't have to go to work. "Five," he thought to himself, counting the number of sirens he'd heard this morning since being rudely awakened by one. He rolled over onto his side to see how late it was. "Only 10 o'clock, not too bad..." Alex thought, suddenly motivated to get out of bed, or at least sit up. "Goddammit," he thought as his head throbbed with renewed intensity. "I knew I shouldn't have had that many PBRs."
ReplyDeleteAlex had had a bit too much to drink last night when Kara's dad came home. Jeremiah Taylor, Kara's dad, and him were good friends from less than desirable circumstances since Taylor was a drug dealer. Alex had no intention of selling Taylor out, but many of his cohorts had needed to go down to provide a smokescreen, many of whom Alex had gotten to know, which only doubled his guilt when he saw them being led away in handcuffs. Alex had really liked Tyrone, he was an amusing fellow, and a bit gruff, but you could count on him. "You can't really count on me, can you?" Alex thought and sighed.
Alex was about to settle into a long afternoon of wallowing in his own guilt when the fire alarm went off. Realizing he had no clothes on, Alex quickly shoved on yesterday's clothes, hurried down the hall, and stabbed the elevator button. Remembering that you shouldn't take an elevator in case of fire, he looked around the hallway for the stairs. Finally, giving up, he went back to his room, pushed up the window, dropped down to the fire escape. Alex allowed himself a brief smile at the fact that someone was actually using the fire escape to escape from a fire. He went around to the front of the apartment building and saw a clutter of people, awkwardly he remained some distance away from them. Looking around he noticed a gruff man head towards the package store, feeling inspired by the idea, Alex followed. "What could possibly happen, right? My headache can't possibly get any worse...."
The sun came out today, a nice change in pace from the bleak and uninviting blizzards that discouraged curious passerbys from my street corner last week. When I was younger my mother would say such days weren't meant for wasting. Ironically enough, the week after her funeral was full with them. Sun shining, birds chirping, flowers blooming. Not a cloud in sight. Perfect, or so it appeared.
ReplyDeleteBut it's what my mother always use to say that brought me here, to the town park. It's currently home to more illegal activities than happy childhood memories, but somehow it continues to house all of mine (all two or three of them, that is). It didn't use to look this way. That swing set over there used to be the talk of the town, at least for those of us under the age of 12. And that slide. It hasn't always been covered up with rust and gum. I even used to sleep under it when I'd run away from home. My stepfather never failed to find me there and drag me home the following mornings. This was a common occurrence after my mother died and became more and more frequent as the years passed. One morning he didn't come after me, though, and when I finally returned to his place, he wasn't there. Somehow I was the one always running away, yet he was the one who finally escaped.
This park doesn't bring the same comfort it once did to my preadolescent self. Nothing in this town does.
I'm not the only one paying the park a visit today. A young woman attempts to interest two young kids into playing with the distraught-looking play structure. Donald James is also here, just walking through, muttering under his breath as usual. I like him, though. He doesn't expect to get more out of this place than what it has to offer (which isn't much of anything). I remember him from a year or so ago. He had a few dollars he wanted to "waste on something useless," so he paid my shop a visit. He was skeptical yet amused, as most people are. I told him he was a man of routine, and this routine, however dreadful and boring, wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He should expect no changes, good or bad, and he better get used to it. He believed me, but he let me know he didn't think it was worth paying to hear. I agreed, but a cold front had come in that day, and matches don't buy themselves.
He gives me a nod as he walks past, and I return the favor. Both of us have an understanding of what it means to be part of this town, and neither of us are fooled by a bright, sunny day such as this one.
1. I liked "They look like God let his three year old kid draw what these fish are gonna look like." comment. Very funny, and very true to your character.
ReplyDelete2. You could use more literary devices. So far, for the most part, it has just been straight recitation of what you did that day. Although ranting is your character's style, different from any other blog, it can be difficult to understand and connect with what you're going through. Literary devices may help in that aspect.
3. Why is Donald James so bitter? Progressively answering this question will show movement of character.
Donald James:
ReplyDelete1. Your character's misery is wonderfully despicable-- not angsty like most-- and still sounds authentic.
2. How is your character so cynical without being depressed? What is his motivation to live? What does he love? (aside from liquor and tits) Is he religious? (No, "God let his three-year-old kid draw what these fish are gonna look like," just answered that one for me.)
3. The first part being said, you could probably find more creative ways to describe the "little fuck."
Also, I agree with Su on the movement of your character. (#3)
- good, strong voice. The character's personality is very apparent from the start.
ReplyDelete-The angst is a little on the heavy side, however. To give their reader some relief from the constant negativity (which can get a little old) you might could find an outlet for this character that might bring about a positive reaction from him.
-The bluntness can sometimes be mistaken for lack of creativity, so i do agree with Bertie's #3.
"Hey Froyd, what's new?" Alexander said, stepping into Deputy Froyd Delson's office.
ReplyDeleteFroyd gave him a very weary look in response.
"That good, huh? Word on the street is that Donald James randomly got shot in the calf." Alex said, thinking back to when he's followed James's example of heading over to package store after some stupid kid pulled the fire alarm.
"Yeah, that whole mess is really weird. We don't even know if Donald was the target. Anyways, the good news is that we finally got J Rizzle on a petty solicitation of prostitution charge, but we're gonna have to get more evidence of his drug dealings and his connection to some of the murders he's implicated in if we're gonna get to keep him."
"Good, good. Drug dealings, does that mean you need my help" Alex asked, hoping his good friend Jeremiah Taylor wasn't involved.
"Nah, not really, we dont really have the time to send someone in undercover."
"Any more good news?" Alex said, breaking the awkward silence.
"Yeah. That guy who kidnapped and killed that little girl last year is loose. Great news, right?"
"Damn. That's horrible. How'd he get out?"
"I don't even want to talk about it. These stupid, lazy prision guards are gonna be the death of me, ya know?"
"Mmmhm," Alex gruted his affirmation.
"And of course there's the usual mugging, but the one in the alleyway by the townhomes was particularly gruesome. We think there's something we don't know, something more to that whole ordeal, but I've got more important things to worry about right now. Like that fucker being on the loose again."
"Mmmhm," Alex grunted again.
"Well....uh...thanks for coming in today, but I don't think we need you."
"Oh, well, uh, I actually just came in to get my paycheck."
"Ah," Froyd said, a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.
They stared awkardly at each other for a while, until, fortunately for both, Froyd was called away. Back outside in the crisp fall air, Alex was heading towards Jupiter Appartments. "God, I miss my home, " he thought bitterly, "not this godforsaken whole in the wall. I'm not even doing what I wanted to do here. I'm a fucking narc. Not ridding the world of bad guys with vicious plots, but selling out guys who are just trying to make a living. Maybe I should just go home...." His mind wandered back home, to what drove him away and what would be waiting for him when he got back, then he quickly dismissed the thought from his mind. He trudged as thoughtlessly as he could manage the rest of the way towards Jupiter Appartments.