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She settled on the toast, skipping her usual morning coffee for a glass of water and packed an apple into her bag. Today was the last day of her exams and she was feeling nervous about her prospects. A few more last-minute tidy ups, a little food for the cat and she made her way out the door into the dappled sunshine of a city Autumn day. Thoughts of her grandmother were with her as she began a steady walk to the ferry terminal. Having lived as long as her Nana did had surprised her after all the illnesses she'd been through. Jennifer felt lucky for those extra years, although also uncomfortable with how the image of death had affected her. What if she herself had to spend the last years of her life relying on others; "wasn't there a chance that it would be the same because of the genetic link."

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1.

"Look, dammit, all I am sayin' is that you should reconsider this. That's all. Just think twice, okay?"

"Ya know, we have known each other for like, forever. And yet, I am havin' trouble remembering exactly when it was that you turned into a freakin' nancyboy. When was that, do you remember? Or does your wussiness erase your memory, too?"

"Very funny. What I have been tryin' to get through to you, nitwit, is that he is not someone that you mess with, okay? He is what is known as 'a one-call guy.' With one phone call, he can ice you. Period."

"Ya know, you watch too many of those direct-to-video movies on cable. You actually believe some of that shit."

"Imma tellin' you, man, fuckin' with him will only lead to trouble. I've seen it before."

"Look, I have the story. I have the corroboration. I have the facts. I am not putting this in some desk drawer. This could really make my career, dude. And you are not goin' to scare me into keepin' it in some file folder."

"Whatever, man. Just don't say that I did not try to warn you if you wake up with two broken kneecaps. Just sayin'."

"Lookit, I gotta go and file this with my editor, okay. I'll see you later at Shorty's for a few drinks."

"Okay, man, but please, be careful."

"Yeah, I'll be real careful. See ya later."


2.

The exposé, which connected the city councilman to a prostitution ring that the district attorney had been trying to crack for over a year, ran in the next day's paper. From the minute that the paper hit the streets, and its website, the phones chirped and the email inboxes lit up. The district attorney held a press conference at 9:00 a.m., vowing to pursue the case in light of the new information. At 10:00 a.m., the councilman held his own news conference, denying all of the allegations contained in the story, and vowing to fight to clear his name of any wrongdoing. The district attorney also put a team of four detectives out to tail the reporter, and note his every movement.

The councilman left the city on a previously scheduled trip to Washington, DC to lobby for additional federal aid for the city's homeless initiative. He was filmed by a local television station boarding his flight to the nation's capital. Later, an affiliate television station in Washington interviewed him on the scandal as well as the purpose of his trip.


3.

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I don't normally do this, but this is something that I started today, and I just wanted to put it up here and get some reactions, some comments. I am not at all sure where it is heading, both in terms of plot, characters or resolution, nor do I know at this point if it will just be short fiction, a novel, or even a screenplay. So please let me know what you think. Thanks.

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 I put a couple stories up in N&GN competition today - this is one of them.

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(Here's something I wrote yesterday. I first wanted to present it as a simple anecdote but then decided it could also work as a poem. So, I did both. I don't know which one I prefer. If any of you have a favourite, or suggestions for improvement, I would be curious to hear them.)

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In front of the bureau in his bedroom, with the pale light of dawn slanted in through dusty Venetian blinds, the old man fumbled with the buttons on his dark green shirt. It was harder than usual to button it up this morning, even with the missing index finger on his right hand-sheared off in a farming accident over 60 years ago. This morning, his arthritis bothered him in both hands that had made getting dressed difficult.

He'd ask his wife, who was waiting for him in the kitchen, to help with the buttons, but they hadn't spoke since supper. Last night, like every other night the day before they drove to their daughter's rented house twenty miles away, they argued about their daughter and what they should or shouldn't do.

"I don't know why we have to drive over there every Saturday morning," his wife had protested during their supper of fried fish, boiled potatoes and green beans. "She's got friends."

"How's she going to get to the store and to the laundromat without a car," he replied. "It's the least we can do for her and the boys."

His wife shot him a dirty look as she pushed her plate away. "She's still got you wrapped around her finger. When are you going to realize that? You never lifted a finger to help the other kids."

"Enough already."

"You're a fool Pa," she said. "If she would stop running around and think more about the boys, find a decent job and a good man."

 

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"Fuck you, you lyin' bitch."

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Once upon a time, a little boy cried. His mommy cuddled him filled his tummy, and kept him warm. In her arms he was content and dreamed. The boy grew strong not needing mom to cuddle, or keep him warm...he was content and he schemed to reach his dreams. Along the way his path got bumpy and mountains sprang up, and seemed insurmountable.

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A Contender

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lovers at the fast

    Only the eyes can be seen above the windowsill, and only the man seems to care.
    “How long do you think they’re going to watch?” he asks.

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Life is often filled with events, situations, circumstances that you never expect; that catch you unawares, off-kilter.  Chemistry being what it is, it seems like we might be a bit more prepared for serendipity, but as for myself, not so much.  It is not really anything I am equipped to improve on:  I am often socially clueless, and have been my whole life, best as I can recall.  I rarely know that signals are being sent, much less what the hell they are intended to convey.

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The thing about them, the most important thing at least, is that they keep coming back, no matter how much abuse is heaped on them, no matter how many bad things happen to them.  Okay, they aren't indestructible, but they are pretty hardy little warriors.  And another really important thing is that they have a terrific self-defense system in place, and no matter how careful you are, they are going to fend you off if you attack, and you will be left bleeding:  every time, without fail, no matter what precautions you take.  It is also worth noting that they propagate profusely, and spread like a wildfire.

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While starting to collect all my short stories, I came upon this one, my very first, written in 1971.  I tinkered with it in very small ways, so it is essentially as written when I was a mere lad of 17.  I hope you enjoy it.

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