I forgot to change the money thing, thanks for noticing. I decided to leave him with more money than I was going to at first, to get him thru NY, etc. And I missed tht spot editing. Thanks about the yard thing, too...
*goes to edit*
ed
-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
christa lynn
- Oskar Winner: 2006
- Posts: 672
- Joined: 3/19/2002, 2:40 pm
- Location: UBC
- Contact:
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trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
here's the next chunk...
FALLEN LEAVES [Next Chunk] >>>
The ancient civilizations section was, hands down, my favorite part of the museum. There were entire sections of temples that had been moved, intact, to the museum. Set off in huge, airy rooms. It was absolutely breathtaking. There were mummies, sarcophaguses, tapestries; just tons of things. I also saw something that I had never, in my lifetime, thought I would ever have a chance to see. An actual, original copy of the Papyrus of Ani: the Egyptian Book of the Dead. It was stretched out, behind glass of course, across this massive hall. There was a translation running underneath it, as well. I followed the hieroglyphs across the page, and kept up with the translation as a running commentary. It gains quite a bit more meaning when it’s actually in front of you; and not in some second rate book with roughly drawn pictographs. I spent close to twenty minutes just standing in that hallway.
Once I finally made myself leave the ancient civilizations section, I headed out to the art wings. There were classic paintings, Monet, Van Gogh; all those other names I’d heard and never really related to anything tangible. I was standing in front of those paintings, in the same place, the same distance from the brush strokes that the artists once stood so many years ago. I eventually ended up in the modern art wing. Strange paintings of shapes and colors, some even constructed from household objects. Pictures of cows and elderly people, all holding some deeper meaning in some intended way. I got through there pretty fast; seems I’m not quite open-minded enough for most contemporary art.
It took me ending up in an area devoted to the Roman civilization until I realized that I was absolutely lost. I was so taken aback by the fully reconstructed Roman armor and thousand year-old weapons that I barely even noticed I had no clue how to get back to the main lobby. I breezed through that wing, and soon came out in a gift shop. While browsing through, my eye caught a postcard with a picture of the Mona Lisa on it. It made me think of Cassie, since she was always into the whole art thing more than I was. I’ve been so busy these last few days I’d barely even thought about her. I haven’t been in contact with Cass since before I hooked up with Josh and the guys back in Carolina. I decided to get that postcard, and send it to her when I got out of the museum.
I asked the cute attendant behind the counter how to get back to the main lobby. About halfway through her telling me, she finally noticed the dazed look on my face and stopped and drew me a map. With makeshift map in hand, I trekked a beeline of about fifteen minutes back to the main lobby. I noticed that it had become late afternoon as I came out of the glass doors, and headed down the slate stairs toward the street.
When I got outside, I heard classical music coming from my right side. I looked over to see a violin player off in the distance. I’d never seen a violin being played up close; there had been a few in the orchestra pit at the play we saw, but that was the closest I’d ever come to hearing one. I followed my ears, and walked over to the young man, probably a few years older than me, and listened to him play a couple of pieces. It was amazing; to hear the music live was beautiful. Simply beautiful. I could still hear the hum of the violin in my head as I walked away, toward a park I’d spotted on my way to the museum. On the way I popped into a side store and bought a stamp. Once I’d made it to the park, I walked a while to make it to a bench I could see in the distance. I looked up to the trees. The leaves were hanging close to the limbs, starting to fade but still not far enough to let go. I slid onto the bench and shifted in my jacket. I pulled out the pen I always kept in my jacket pocket, and started fingering with my bracelet I’d gotten in Chinatown while I thought about what to write.
“Cass—
I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while, I’ve been so busy lately. I made some friends, and they haven’t stolen anything from me yet, so I think I’m in the clear. I’ve been traveling around the New England area with ‘em, and as you can tell by the postcard, I’m in New York. The city’s amazing. You have to see it someday. The museum is so cool, you would absolutely love it. I still don’t have a plan yet, but I’m at least having fun. That’s more important than anything, right? Your best friend…
—Alex
P.S. I’ll write again soon.”
By the time I finished with that, the sun was finally setting. There was a postbox next to the bench I was on, so I dropped the note in and started walking back toward Josh’s aunt’s apartment building. The sky had become an inky black by the time I got back to the little area of Manhattan I was staying. There was a small courtyard with a fountain outside of the building, so I decided to go out there and sit a while. I wasn’t tired yet. There was a little cement bench behind the fountain; sitting there you could see the city outside like a corridor, angled down the street. The lights of the city at night shone through the water with a surreal distortion, the people walking by were stretched and reflected. I sat there for close to an hour. Just sitting. It felt good to clear my head for a little while.
Once I made it upstairs I found that the rest of the guys had already gotten back. “So, how was the Yankees game?” I asked them. “Awesome. Was the museum any good?” The museum was astounding, utterly amazing. But, to keep the ‘nonchalant cool guy’ disposition I’d been living since as far back as I could remember, I just replied with a “Pretty cool, man; pretty cool.” Maria, Josh’s aunt, had cooked the four of us a huge dinner. Hamburger steaks, mashed potatoes, green beans, cornbread; it was great. We ate until we were stuffed, watched a little TV, and went to bed at about eleven ‘o clock.
The next day was the last we would spend in the city; we slept until late morning and caught a bus to the parking deck we had left the car in. Josh and the guys were heading up through Canada next. I would have gone with them but I didn’t have my birth certificate, I had left it back in Alabama, so chances were slim that I could get past the border. The guys didn’t want to just ditch me here in New York, so they decided to hit the rest of the northeast United States before crossing the border. Johnathan wanted to see Maine, so the best way to go would be through Vermont and New Hampshire to get to Maine, and cross over into Canada from there.
We piled into the Explorer, and started off toward Vermont. After about half an hour of riding, Josh pulled out his acoustic and started strumming some tunes. Within seconds the whole vehicle was filled with music, and the four of us were all singing along. Pretty soon Josh started strumming a riff he’d had stuck in his head for the last few days, and asked me to help him finish up the lyrics.
drowning here in bedlam
the chaos reigning so
your hair pulled back so tight
you still can't see the light
the words are there but lost
the melody plays so loud
you don't know the song
wait it won't be long
Upon seeing what he had written, it reminded me of a poem I’d penned about a year ago. It was kind of on the dark side, hinting a bit at suicide. The poem I had written about the topic was inspired by an after-school special I saw one day. At the time I wrote it, I was intrigued at the idea of suicide. My life had always been pretty easy, pretty happy. To think that someone could be driven to such a point that they’d want to end theirs was kind of beyond me.
if almost doesn't count
you're as close as you can be
you were barely wonderful
but ohh so sorrowful
so high atop the world
grip slips as you let go
you can see the clouds from there
looking down it seems so clear
The drive to Vermont was going well. Having read the lyrics that Josh already had written, I asked him what it was that had gotten him thinking about the topic. “I lost someone I loved once. When I was fifteen I fell in love with this girl. By the time we were sixteen we were already engaged. Then, one day, she was driving home from school. There was a guy, he was drunk, and he crossed lanes and hit her head-on. It, it killed her instantly. She was in a convertible. There, there wasn’t very much left. The funeral service went well. It screwed me up for a while, which got me thinking about suicide, but I finally realized I had to keep going. I was only sixteen, you know, my whole life was still ahead of me. I didn’t want to move on, but the days kept coming. After a while it got easier.” “Wow,” was all I could say. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so, so sorry. That’s terrible; no one should have to go through that.” He just kind of shrugged it off. I could tell that he was still torn up about it. I just changed the subject and got him talking about the melody.
brick cold under your feet
soon you won't feel at all
take that dive knowing you're wrong
as you sing the same sad song
you finally know the words
the tears stream down your face
you're falling through the air
you smile and seem to care
I quoted some of the verses from my old poem onto his working lyric sheet, and when I couldn’t remember any more I pulled out my journal to get the rest out. The stuff Josh had was quite similar to my old poem, and pieced together it told a pretty cool story. It was about the distractions that come at important moments in your life. Pretty pessimistic stuff, I’d never really felt that way too much in my life. I guess that’s why I was so captivated by it. Some people are scared of things they don’t understand; me, I just become enamored with it.
there are only seconds now
before you know the answer sure
was there nowhere left to go?
will the meaning finally show?
as you hit the light blinks bright
but no answer comes to aide
just nothing and this sadness
as you slip down into madness
As we got about to the middle of Vermont, the song was sounding good. By the time we stopped for some food, it was coming together great. At this rate, Josh and I could have a whole album done pretty soon. We stopped at some fast-food place, went in, chilled out and stretched a little, then continued on our way. It took us making it almost to the New Hampshire state line before Bill asked “So, how much further ‘till we go through, like, Maine, and Rhode Island? I’ve heard those are some pretty cool places to go through.” The three of us just kind of looked at him. It was Johnathan, who was driving, that finally answered him. “Dude. The way we’re going we won’t pass through there. We’re up above them. Didn’t you pay attention in Geography?” We all kind of chuckled. Bill chimed back, “Ohh… well, can’t we swing down there anyway, for the heck of it?” The three of us shrugged a shrug of agreement. No one was in a hurry. Personally, I was happy that we were going around over there. I’d always wanted to see the Atlantic Ocean from this high up, so we swung the car south toward Maine and Rhode Island.
...(see next chunk)...
FALLEN LEAVES [Next Chunk] >>>
The ancient civilizations section was, hands down, my favorite part of the museum. There were entire sections of temples that had been moved, intact, to the museum. Set off in huge, airy rooms. It was absolutely breathtaking. There were mummies, sarcophaguses, tapestries; just tons of things. I also saw something that I had never, in my lifetime, thought I would ever have a chance to see. An actual, original copy of the Papyrus of Ani: the Egyptian Book of the Dead. It was stretched out, behind glass of course, across this massive hall. There was a translation running underneath it, as well. I followed the hieroglyphs across the page, and kept up with the translation as a running commentary. It gains quite a bit more meaning when it’s actually in front of you; and not in some second rate book with roughly drawn pictographs. I spent close to twenty minutes just standing in that hallway.
Once I finally made myself leave the ancient civilizations section, I headed out to the art wings. There were classic paintings, Monet, Van Gogh; all those other names I’d heard and never really related to anything tangible. I was standing in front of those paintings, in the same place, the same distance from the brush strokes that the artists once stood so many years ago. I eventually ended up in the modern art wing. Strange paintings of shapes and colors, some even constructed from household objects. Pictures of cows and elderly people, all holding some deeper meaning in some intended way. I got through there pretty fast; seems I’m not quite open-minded enough for most contemporary art.
It took me ending up in an area devoted to the Roman civilization until I realized that I was absolutely lost. I was so taken aback by the fully reconstructed Roman armor and thousand year-old weapons that I barely even noticed I had no clue how to get back to the main lobby. I breezed through that wing, and soon came out in a gift shop. While browsing through, my eye caught a postcard with a picture of the Mona Lisa on it. It made me think of Cassie, since she was always into the whole art thing more than I was. I’ve been so busy these last few days I’d barely even thought about her. I haven’t been in contact with Cass since before I hooked up with Josh and the guys back in Carolina. I decided to get that postcard, and send it to her when I got out of the museum.
I asked the cute attendant behind the counter how to get back to the main lobby. About halfway through her telling me, she finally noticed the dazed look on my face and stopped and drew me a map. With makeshift map in hand, I trekked a beeline of about fifteen minutes back to the main lobby. I noticed that it had become late afternoon as I came out of the glass doors, and headed down the slate stairs toward the street.
When I got outside, I heard classical music coming from my right side. I looked over to see a violin player off in the distance. I’d never seen a violin being played up close; there had been a few in the orchestra pit at the play we saw, but that was the closest I’d ever come to hearing one. I followed my ears, and walked over to the young man, probably a few years older than me, and listened to him play a couple of pieces. It was amazing; to hear the music live was beautiful. Simply beautiful. I could still hear the hum of the violin in my head as I walked away, toward a park I’d spotted on my way to the museum. On the way I popped into a side store and bought a stamp. Once I’d made it to the park, I walked a while to make it to a bench I could see in the distance. I looked up to the trees. The leaves were hanging close to the limbs, starting to fade but still not far enough to let go. I slid onto the bench and shifted in my jacket. I pulled out the pen I always kept in my jacket pocket, and started fingering with my bracelet I’d gotten in Chinatown while I thought about what to write.
“Cass—
I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while, I’ve been so busy lately. I made some friends, and they haven’t stolen anything from me yet, so I think I’m in the clear. I’ve been traveling around the New England area with ‘em, and as you can tell by the postcard, I’m in New York. The city’s amazing. You have to see it someday. The museum is so cool, you would absolutely love it. I still don’t have a plan yet, but I’m at least having fun. That’s more important than anything, right? Your best friend…
—Alex
P.S. I’ll write again soon.”
By the time I finished with that, the sun was finally setting. There was a postbox next to the bench I was on, so I dropped the note in and started walking back toward Josh’s aunt’s apartment building. The sky had become an inky black by the time I got back to the little area of Manhattan I was staying. There was a small courtyard with a fountain outside of the building, so I decided to go out there and sit a while. I wasn’t tired yet. There was a little cement bench behind the fountain; sitting there you could see the city outside like a corridor, angled down the street. The lights of the city at night shone through the water with a surreal distortion, the people walking by were stretched and reflected. I sat there for close to an hour. Just sitting. It felt good to clear my head for a little while.
Once I made it upstairs I found that the rest of the guys had already gotten back. “So, how was the Yankees game?” I asked them. “Awesome. Was the museum any good?” The museum was astounding, utterly amazing. But, to keep the ‘nonchalant cool guy’ disposition I’d been living since as far back as I could remember, I just replied with a “Pretty cool, man; pretty cool.” Maria, Josh’s aunt, had cooked the four of us a huge dinner. Hamburger steaks, mashed potatoes, green beans, cornbread; it was great. We ate until we were stuffed, watched a little TV, and went to bed at about eleven ‘o clock.
The next day was the last we would spend in the city; we slept until late morning and caught a bus to the parking deck we had left the car in. Josh and the guys were heading up through Canada next. I would have gone with them but I didn’t have my birth certificate, I had left it back in Alabama, so chances were slim that I could get past the border. The guys didn’t want to just ditch me here in New York, so they decided to hit the rest of the northeast United States before crossing the border. Johnathan wanted to see Maine, so the best way to go would be through Vermont and New Hampshire to get to Maine, and cross over into Canada from there.
We piled into the Explorer, and started off toward Vermont. After about half an hour of riding, Josh pulled out his acoustic and started strumming some tunes. Within seconds the whole vehicle was filled with music, and the four of us were all singing along. Pretty soon Josh started strumming a riff he’d had stuck in his head for the last few days, and asked me to help him finish up the lyrics.
drowning here in bedlam
the chaos reigning so
your hair pulled back so tight
you still can't see the light
the words are there but lost
the melody plays so loud
you don't know the song
wait it won't be long
Upon seeing what he had written, it reminded me of a poem I’d penned about a year ago. It was kind of on the dark side, hinting a bit at suicide. The poem I had written about the topic was inspired by an after-school special I saw one day. At the time I wrote it, I was intrigued at the idea of suicide. My life had always been pretty easy, pretty happy. To think that someone could be driven to such a point that they’d want to end theirs was kind of beyond me.
if almost doesn't count
you're as close as you can be
you were barely wonderful
but ohh so sorrowful
so high atop the world
grip slips as you let go
you can see the clouds from there
looking down it seems so clear
The drive to Vermont was going well. Having read the lyrics that Josh already had written, I asked him what it was that had gotten him thinking about the topic. “I lost someone I loved once. When I was fifteen I fell in love with this girl. By the time we were sixteen we were already engaged. Then, one day, she was driving home from school. There was a guy, he was drunk, and he crossed lanes and hit her head-on. It, it killed her instantly. She was in a convertible. There, there wasn’t very much left. The funeral service went well. It screwed me up for a while, which got me thinking about suicide, but I finally realized I had to keep going. I was only sixteen, you know, my whole life was still ahead of me. I didn’t want to move on, but the days kept coming. After a while it got easier.” “Wow,” was all I could say. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so, so sorry. That’s terrible; no one should have to go through that.” He just kind of shrugged it off. I could tell that he was still torn up about it. I just changed the subject and got him talking about the melody.
brick cold under your feet
soon you won't feel at all
take that dive knowing you're wrong
as you sing the same sad song
you finally know the words
the tears stream down your face
you're falling through the air
you smile and seem to care
I quoted some of the verses from my old poem onto his working lyric sheet, and when I couldn’t remember any more I pulled out my journal to get the rest out. The stuff Josh had was quite similar to my old poem, and pieced together it told a pretty cool story. It was about the distractions that come at important moments in your life. Pretty pessimistic stuff, I’d never really felt that way too much in my life. I guess that’s why I was so captivated by it. Some people are scared of things they don’t understand; me, I just become enamored with it.
there are only seconds now
before you know the answer sure
was there nowhere left to go?
will the meaning finally show?
as you hit the light blinks bright
but no answer comes to aide
just nothing and this sadness
as you slip down into madness
As we got about to the middle of Vermont, the song was sounding good. By the time we stopped for some food, it was coming together great. At this rate, Josh and I could have a whole album done pretty soon. We stopped at some fast-food place, went in, chilled out and stretched a little, then continued on our way. It took us making it almost to the New Hampshire state line before Bill asked “So, how much further ‘till we go through, like, Maine, and Rhode Island? I’ve heard those are some pretty cool places to go through.” The three of us just kind of looked at him. It was Johnathan, who was driving, that finally answered him. “Dude. The way we’re going we won’t pass through there. We’re up above them. Didn’t you pay attention in Geography?” We all kind of chuckled. Bill chimed back, “Ohh… well, can’t we swing down there anyway, for the heck of it?” The three of us shrugged a shrug of agreement. No one was in a hurry. Personally, I was happy that we were going around over there. I’d always wanted to see the Atlantic Ocean from this high up, so we swung the car south toward Maine and Rhode Island.
...(see next chunk)...
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
It's going good man. I like it, keep the updates coming.
Queens Of The Stone Age-Someone's In The Wolf
Once you're lost in twillights's blue
You don't find your way, the way finds you...
Tempt the fates, beware the smile
It hides all the teeth, my dear,
What's behind them...
So glad you could stay
Forever
He steps between the trees, a crooked man
There's blood on the blade
Don't take his hand
You warm by the firelight, in twilight's blue
Shadows creep & dance the walls
He's creeping too..
So glad you could stay
Forever
<----------------- click and listen!-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
thanks bro!
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
FALLEN LEAVES ...(next chunk)...
[I rewrote the last paragraph of the last chunk]...
As we got about to the middle of Vermont, the song was sounding good. By the time we stopped for some food, it was coming together great. Personally, I liked this song a little bit better than the first one we put together; had a bit more mystery to it. We stopped at some fast-food place, went in, and chilled out for a while. The girl behind the counter was really cute, and the rest of the guys were pressuring Bill to hit on her. Apparently, he was even less suave than me, so if he could be convinced to take a shot, it could prove to be pretty funny. Sadly, his shyness got the best of him, and nothing came of it. Since Bill passed, the dare started making its way down our table. It’s a lot easier to pressure someone else into doing something potentially embarrassing than actually step up and give it a try yourself. That’s one of the infamous unwritten rules of being a man; if something scares you, draw the attention away from yourself by putting it onto someone else to do it. It usually works, too. But, this time I let the hazing of the guys get the best of me, and I pushed my chair back and stood up. With my bravery still a work-in-progress, I decided to give it a try.
I started strolling up to her cashier register; there were no customers there, and she was hanging out not paying too much attention to anything in particular. I was so self-conscious about just walking over there I must have looked like I was trying to emulate some kind of strut from an old seventies disco movie. I couldn’t keep my hand off my bracelet either; I just kept fingering with it. Who knows, maybe the little Chinese lady was right about the whole ‘good luck with women’ charm. It’s amazing how much the little things throw us off in life. I was nervous as hell about just speaking to a girl I would most likely never, ever see again in my entire lifetime. In those few moments of walking up to her, everything else on my mind; my future, my plan (or lack thereof), my money situation; all of that just faded away for fear and uncertainty over a meaningless conversation with some random girl in a restaurant.
When I finally made it to her, all I could think to say was: “Hey, what’s up?” Her retort: “Not much. Can I help you?” She had a bit of annoyance in her voice, so I could tell this wasn’t going to go well from the beginning. I tried to mask the nervous crackle in my words, and dropped a line Johnathan had told me to try: “I was just wondering, baby, what the chances are I could get your number?” She cracked a bit of a smile: “If I had to guess, I’d say slim to none.” With that, and a flick of her hair, she turned around and walked back to the kitchen. Josh and the guys had been inching up to hear the entire time, and I could make out their muffled laughs as she walked away. Johnathan slapped me on the shoulder: “Ohh well, guess that’ll be the one that gets away.” With that, the four of us headed back out toward the car.
With the late start, and all the time we wasted at the restaurant, we didn’t make it much farther before the sun sat. We drove about two hours into the night, but we were all tired and sore from being cramped up, so pretty soon we snagged a room in some fleabag motel to get some rest. The room had two double beds, and faded wallpaper with water stains on the roof where rain has leaked through over the years. The air was old; the light had a fluorescent crackle to it. The room hummed with aged silence. Johnathan got a shower, and the rest of us switched on the old television and scanned through the cable channels from something to watch. Everything was accented by a thin shadow of static.
There were only about thirty channels available, and it eventually ended up on VH1; with some show about former child-stars. It had made it to a segment about Gary Coleman by the time I finally headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was the last one to get a bath, so there was absolutely no hot water left by the time I got in. I was so tired it didn’t even bother me. When I eventually got out and dried off, I came back into the room to find the rest of the guys already asleep. The television was now running late-night music videos. I switched off the power, and put together a pallet on the floor by lamplight.
…chased it for forever
in the moment when it started
the clock still ticks away
and the seconds never stay…
The next morning came early, and we were all dressed, and ready to go by nine in the AM. We piled our stuff into our collective bags, and loaded back into the Explorer. We were almost out of gas, and upon stopping off to get some Josh happened to glance at a map hanging on the wall and figured out that we were going around about the longest way possible to explore the Northeast part of the country. Ohh well, no one was in a hurry. By that time we were just getting into Vermont pretty good. After an hour or so, we decided to stop off at this huge park we spotted off the road. To stretch our legs a little, take in some of the scenery. We all wanted to split up to wander around and take pictures and check the place out; so we decided to meet back at the car in an hour.
I just started wandering, and eventually came across a little black steel bench with a good view off in the distance. I could see the far off hills, and the high mist settling around them, clouding the already grey sky. I pulled out my journal, but couldn’t think of anything to write. The scene was just too peaceful. I slid my journal back into my bag, and pulled out the book of poetry I’d bought back at the little bookstore in New York. I read it slowly, trying to let each page soak in before turning the next one. Had Josh and the guys not come and found me, I could have sat on that bench forever. But, our self-appointed hour was up, and we needed to move on. I put the book back into my duffel, and headed back toward the car.
When we made it to New Hampshire, we drove straight on through. Due to construction traffic, it was inching into nightfall before we made it into Maine. Before Josh and the guys had left Texas for their road trip, they had picked up a massive tent and some camping gear for the journey. They had the stuff stowed in a container on top of the Explorer, so I didn’t have a clue what Johnathan was doing when he pulled into a campsite for the night. It turns out none of them had ever done much camping in their youth, so when they were getting ready for this excursion they decided to stock up on camping gear, and spend a night or two ‘roughing it’. I myself had never done much camping back in my younger days; but we figured that, between the four of us, we should be able to get the tent together pretty quick. How wrong we were. We spent close to two hours shoving poles and canvas into slots and joints, and we still weren’t any closer to having a habitat. We finally just gave up on the tent, and decided to sleep in the car for the night.
We were all pretty awake, having all gotten pretty pissed off trying (and failing) to get the tent together; so we decided to start a fire and sit up a while. There was firewood provided at the site; but after burning my finger with a lighter trying to set it directly on fire, I realized we needed some kindling. I’d noticed a gas station about a mile from the campgrounds coming in, so Johnathan went to fill a drink bottle with some to get things going. It only took him a few minutes to get back, and, with the help of our good friend petroleum, we soon had a fire going. Johnathan also came back with a twelve pack of beer, having sweet talked the girl behind the counter. It was a cold night, so we stayed close to the fire, drank a bit, and eventually retired to a very uncomfortable night of cramped sleep in the Explorer.
I awoke to the sun reflecting off of the side-view mirror, and straight into my eyes. It’s never good to start off a day with a neck cramp and headache. We shoved the tent back into the roof container, and immediately headed toward the closest town for some breakfast. Low on cash, I just ordered a biscuit and cup of coffee. I ate the biscuit first, and then just kept refilling the coffee until I was eventually full. A belly full of caffeine made up for a bad night’s sleep. Johnathan pulled out his pocket atlas, and we started scouting for somewhere to visit, as we were now in Maine. Since between the four of us, we’d all only actually heard of one city in Maine; Bangor, we decided to check it out.
We settled up our breakfast, and loaded up to continue on our way. We took our time on the way, and made it over there by early afternoon. Getting there, I didn’t know a thing about the city. Come to find out, the community sits right on this beautiful river called the Penobscot. When we got into town, Johnathan spotted a little restaurant with a sign reading “Best Burgers in the State,” so we pulled in there to grab a late lunch. The meal didn’t quite live up to the hype, but it wasn’t bad by any means. With lunch taken care of, we piled back into the Explorer and started driving along the river. Pretty soon we came upon a riverside spot, with huge stone slabs hanging low over the rushing water. There were some souvenir shops across the street from the river, so the guys went over there to browse, and I strolled over to the river to rest a while.
I had to do a little climbing, but it didn’t take long to find a pretty comfortable spot on the rocks, with my feet dangling a few feet above the flowing rapids. I just sat and watched the water a while. I got to thinking, and realized that I hadn’t put an entry in my journal a while. So I pulled open my duffel bag and pulled it out. After flipping to a blank page, I tugged my pen from my pant pocket and started writing. I updated everything that had happened since I last wrote, and then filled about half a page with stream-of-consciousness poetry. Looking back to what I’d written a few months ago, I quickly noticed how much my focus had changed. I used to be concerned with such little things: crushes, tests, trying not to piss my parents off too much. Now my concerns were a lot different. Now my focus fell to real concerns: shelter, food, life plans, and new friendships. It only took me going halfway across the country to finally grow as a person. Well, I guess that’s better than never growing at all.
Once I finished up writing, I slid my book back into my bag and started climbing down. I tracked the rest of the guys down in one of the shops; they were digging through a rack of goofy, novelty t-shirts. They spent a few more minutes there, and then we loaded up to circle around through Massachusetts. I didn’t know it at the time, but within the next few miles I would come to a place that would change my life forever.
I never thought you could literally fall in love with a place, but when we stopped to get gas in this town a little ways out of Bangor, on the Penobscot River, I knew that I was in the place I needed to be.
[I rewrote the last paragraph of the last chunk]...
As we got about to the middle of Vermont, the song was sounding good. By the time we stopped for some food, it was coming together great. Personally, I liked this song a little bit better than the first one we put together; had a bit more mystery to it. We stopped at some fast-food place, went in, and chilled out for a while. The girl behind the counter was really cute, and the rest of the guys were pressuring Bill to hit on her. Apparently, he was even less suave than me, so if he could be convinced to take a shot, it could prove to be pretty funny. Sadly, his shyness got the best of him, and nothing came of it. Since Bill passed, the dare started making its way down our table. It’s a lot easier to pressure someone else into doing something potentially embarrassing than actually step up and give it a try yourself. That’s one of the infamous unwritten rules of being a man; if something scares you, draw the attention away from yourself by putting it onto someone else to do it. It usually works, too. But, this time I let the hazing of the guys get the best of me, and I pushed my chair back and stood up. With my bravery still a work-in-progress, I decided to give it a try.
I started strolling up to her cashier register; there were no customers there, and she was hanging out not paying too much attention to anything in particular. I was so self-conscious about just walking over there I must have looked like I was trying to emulate some kind of strut from an old seventies disco movie. I couldn’t keep my hand off my bracelet either; I just kept fingering with it. Who knows, maybe the little Chinese lady was right about the whole ‘good luck with women’ charm. It’s amazing how much the little things throw us off in life. I was nervous as hell about just speaking to a girl I would most likely never, ever see again in my entire lifetime. In those few moments of walking up to her, everything else on my mind; my future, my plan (or lack thereof), my money situation; all of that just faded away for fear and uncertainty over a meaningless conversation with some random girl in a restaurant.
When I finally made it to her, all I could think to say was: “Hey, what’s up?” Her retort: “Not much. Can I help you?” She had a bit of annoyance in her voice, so I could tell this wasn’t going to go well from the beginning. I tried to mask the nervous crackle in my words, and dropped a line Johnathan had told me to try: “I was just wondering, baby, what the chances are I could get your number?” She cracked a bit of a smile: “If I had to guess, I’d say slim to none.” With that, and a flick of her hair, she turned around and walked back to the kitchen. Josh and the guys had been inching up to hear the entire time, and I could make out their muffled laughs as she walked away. Johnathan slapped me on the shoulder: “Ohh well, guess that’ll be the one that gets away.” With that, the four of us headed back out toward the car.
With the late start, and all the time we wasted at the restaurant, we didn’t make it much farther before the sun sat. We drove about two hours into the night, but we were all tired and sore from being cramped up, so pretty soon we snagged a room in some fleabag motel to get some rest. The room had two double beds, and faded wallpaper with water stains on the roof where rain has leaked through over the years. The air was old; the light had a fluorescent crackle to it. The room hummed with aged silence. Johnathan got a shower, and the rest of us switched on the old television and scanned through the cable channels from something to watch. Everything was accented by a thin shadow of static.
There were only about thirty channels available, and it eventually ended up on VH1; with some show about former child-stars. It had made it to a segment about Gary Coleman by the time I finally headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was the last one to get a bath, so there was absolutely no hot water left by the time I got in. I was so tired it didn’t even bother me. When I eventually got out and dried off, I came back into the room to find the rest of the guys already asleep. The television was now running late-night music videos. I switched off the power, and put together a pallet on the floor by lamplight.
…chased it for forever
in the moment when it started
the clock still ticks away
and the seconds never stay…
The next morning came early, and we were all dressed, and ready to go by nine in the AM. We piled our stuff into our collective bags, and loaded back into the Explorer. We were almost out of gas, and upon stopping off to get some Josh happened to glance at a map hanging on the wall and figured out that we were going around about the longest way possible to explore the Northeast part of the country. Ohh well, no one was in a hurry. By that time we were just getting into Vermont pretty good. After an hour or so, we decided to stop off at this huge park we spotted off the road. To stretch our legs a little, take in some of the scenery. We all wanted to split up to wander around and take pictures and check the place out; so we decided to meet back at the car in an hour.
I just started wandering, and eventually came across a little black steel bench with a good view off in the distance. I could see the far off hills, and the high mist settling around them, clouding the already grey sky. I pulled out my journal, but couldn’t think of anything to write. The scene was just too peaceful. I slid my journal back into my bag, and pulled out the book of poetry I’d bought back at the little bookstore in New York. I read it slowly, trying to let each page soak in before turning the next one. Had Josh and the guys not come and found me, I could have sat on that bench forever. But, our self-appointed hour was up, and we needed to move on. I put the book back into my duffel, and headed back toward the car.
When we made it to New Hampshire, we drove straight on through. Due to construction traffic, it was inching into nightfall before we made it into Maine. Before Josh and the guys had left Texas for their road trip, they had picked up a massive tent and some camping gear for the journey. They had the stuff stowed in a container on top of the Explorer, so I didn’t have a clue what Johnathan was doing when he pulled into a campsite for the night. It turns out none of them had ever done much camping in their youth, so when they were getting ready for this excursion they decided to stock up on camping gear, and spend a night or two ‘roughing it’. I myself had never done much camping back in my younger days; but we figured that, between the four of us, we should be able to get the tent together pretty quick. How wrong we were. We spent close to two hours shoving poles and canvas into slots and joints, and we still weren’t any closer to having a habitat. We finally just gave up on the tent, and decided to sleep in the car for the night.
We were all pretty awake, having all gotten pretty pissed off trying (and failing) to get the tent together; so we decided to start a fire and sit up a while. There was firewood provided at the site; but after burning my finger with a lighter trying to set it directly on fire, I realized we needed some kindling. I’d noticed a gas station about a mile from the campgrounds coming in, so Johnathan went to fill a drink bottle with some to get things going. It only took him a few minutes to get back, and, with the help of our good friend petroleum, we soon had a fire going. Johnathan also came back with a twelve pack of beer, having sweet talked the girl behind the counter. It was a cold night, so we stayed close to the fire, drank a bit, and eventually retired to a very uncomfortable night of cramped sleep in the Explorer.
I awoke to the sun reflecting off of the side-view mirror, and straight into my eyes. It’s never good to start off a day with a neck cramp and headache. We shoved the tent back into the roof container, and immediately headed toward the closest town for some breakfast. Low on cash, I just ordered a biscuit and cup of coffee. I ate the biscuit first, and then just kept refilling the coffee until I was eventually full. A belly full of caffeine made up for a bad night’s sleep. Johnathan pulled out his pocket atlas, and we started scouting for somewhere to visit, as we were now in Maine. Since between the four of us, we’d all only actually heard of one city in Maine; Bangor, we decided to check it out.
We settled up our breakfast, and loaded up to continue on our way. We took our time on the way, and made it over there by early afternoon. Getting there, I didn’t know a thing about the city. Come to find out, the community sits right on this beautiful river called the Penobscot. When we got into town, Johnathan spotted a little restaurant with a sign reading “Best Burgers in the State,” so we pulled in there to grab a late lunch. The meal didn’t quite live up to the hype, but it wasn’t bad by any means. With lunch taken care of, we piled back into the Explorer and started driving along the river. Pretty soon we came upon a riverside spot, with huge stone slabs hanging low over the rushing water. There were some souvenir shops across the street from the river, so the guys went over there to browse, and I strolled over to the river to rest a while.
I had to do a little climbing, but it didn’t take long to find a pretty comfortable spot on the rocks, with my feet dangling a few feet above the flowing rapids. I just sat and watched the water a while. I got to thinking, and realized that I hadn’t put an entry in my journal a while. So I pulled open my duffel bag and pulled it out. After flipping to a blank page, I tugged my pen from my pant pocket and started writing. I updated everything that had happened since I last wrote, and then filled about half a page with stream-of-consciousness poetry. Looking back to what I’d written a few months ago, I quickly noticed how much my focus had changed. I used to be concerned with such little things: crushes, tests, trying not to piss my parents off too much. Now my concerns were a lot different. Now my focus fell to real concerns: shelter, food, life plans, and new friendships. It only took me going halfway across the country to finally grow as a person. Well, I guess that’s better than never growing at all.
Once I finished up writing, I slid my book back into my bag and started climbing down. I tracked the rest of the guys down in one of the shops; they were digging through a rack of goofy, novelty t-shirts. They spent a few more minutes there, and then we loaded up to circle around through Massachusetts. I didn’t know it at the time, but within the next few miles I would come to a place that would change my life forever.
I never thought you could literally fall in love with a place, but when we stopped to get gas in this town a little ways out of Bangor, on the Penobscot River, I knew that I was in the place I needed to be.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
Random Name
- Oskar Winner: 2007
- Posts: 10134
- Joined: 8/16/2003, 2:57 pm
- Location: New Finland
Okay, I just read the whole thing since I missed a lot of updats when I was away.
I really like how this is turning out. Everything is very captivating. The whole time I can't help but think "this guy is gonna run out of money soon." lol. Maybe its cause he is now practically vacationing with guys that have money to burn, and he has very little.
I also really liked the part where Alex was trying to hook up with the waitress. I think it would have been really good if he had used the cheezy line, and then when that failed he talked to her and she actually gave him his number. Then it would have given evidance to the bracelet actually being a good luck charm.
If you haven't noticed, I really liked the bracelet.
I'm really eager to read some more, espically if this is where he runs into Jules again.
Keep it up!
I really like how this is turning out. Everything is very captivating. The whole time I can't help but think "this guy is gonna run out of money soon." lol. Maybe its cause he is now practically vacationing with guys that have money to burn, and he has very little.
I also really liked the part where Alex was trying to hook up with the waitress. I think it would have been really good if he had used the cheezy line, and then when that failed he talked to her and she actually gave him his number. Then it would have given evidance to the bracelet actually being a good luck charm.
If you haven't noticed, I really liked the bracelet.
I'm really eager to read some more, espically if this is where he runs into Jules again.
Keep it up!
-Sarah
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
More writing!!! It's very good.
Queens Of The Stone Age-Someone's In The Wolf
Once you're lost in twillights's blue
You don't find your way, the way finds you...
Tempt the fates, beware the smile
It hides all the teeth, my dear,
What's behind them...
So glad you could stay
Forever
He steps between the trees, a crooked man
There's blood on the blade
Don't take his hand
You warm by the firelight, in twilight's blue
Shadows creep & dance the walls
He's creeping too..
So glad you could stay
Forever
<----------------- click and listen!-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
Random Name wrote:Okay, I just read the whole thing since I missed a lot of updats when I was away.
I really like how this is turning out. Everything is very captivating. The whole time I can't help but think "this guy is gonna run out of money soon." lol. Maybe its cause he is now practically vacationing with guys that have money to burn, and he has very little.
I also really liked the part where Alex was trying to hook up with the waitress. I think it would have been really good if he had used the cheezy line, and then when that failed he talked to her and she actually gave him his number. Then it would have given evidance to the bracelet actually being a good luck charm.
If you haven't noticed, I really liked the bracelet.
I'm really eager to read some more, espically if this is where he runs into Jules again.
Keep it up!
Thanks guys!
I'm trying to keep the bracelet in mention as I go, because it's going to come into pla later on in the story...
for what I mean, read on...
!HUGE SPOILER COMING UP!
Once he realizes he's still in love with Cass, and none of it works out, he flings the bracelet into the river in a fit of anger and sadness. The bracelet is kind of symbolic of his experiences, the 'new' person he's trying to be. And, in throwing it away, he realizes he didn't find happiness in his travels, and experiences; that he has to find it within himself. Kind of. That's the Reader's Digest metaphor, anyways; it's actually a bit deeper in detail, but that's the gist...
!CLOSE MASSIVE SPOILER!
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
christa lynn
- Oskar Winner: 2006
- Posts: 672
- Joined: 3/19/2002, 2:40 pm
- Location: UBC
- Contact:
GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I need more story!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Queens Of The Stone Age-Someone's In The Wolf
Once you're lost in twillights's blue
You don't find your way, the way finds you...
Tempt the fates, beware the smile
It hides all the teeth, my dear,
What's behind them...
So glad you could stay
Forever
He steps between the trees, a crooked man
There's blood on the blade
Don't take his hand
You warm by the firelight, in twilight's blue
Shadows creep & dance the walls
He's creeping too..
So glad you could stay
Forever
<----------------- click and listen!-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
I may do some more tonite, but I've gotta go to driving school (I got a speeding ticket) so I dunno how long that'll take.
I'm so glad you guys dig it!!
I'm so glad you guys dig it!!
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
starseed_10
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 10473
- Joined: 8/21/2002, 8:31 am
- Location: 123 fake street
- Contact:
-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
>>> FALLEN LEAVES [Next Chunk] >>>
I never thought you could literally fall in love with a place, but when we stopped to get gas in this town a little ways out of Bangor, on the Penobscot River, I knew that I was where I needed to be. From the moment I got out of the car, and sat foot on the pavement at the little mid-town gas station, everything just felt right. My heart was telling me to stay. The entire time I’d been alive, I had never followed my heart. I always did what made sense; took the path of least resistance. For one of the first times in my life, I decided that I was going to do something for absolutely no more reason than that it felt right.
The city wasn’t very big, probably a bit larger than the town I grew up in back South; but the place was perfect. The streets were clean and aged, the buildings had a gothic style to them; old brick, some with vines climbing all the way up the fire escapes. Josh and the rest were heading up to Canada pretty soon anyways, and I was getting too broke to travel, so I decided to stay there. At least for a while. As the guys started loading back into the Explorer, I just lingered at the front of the store. “You coming bro?” asked Josh, as he noticed my reluctance. “No, I don’t think so, guys. Y’all will be crossing the border pretty soon anyways, and this place seems… nice. I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”
We all exchanged some high-fives and handshakes, and I graciously thanked them for keeping me around as long as they did. I had jotted down Josh’s address and phone number back in Texas yesterday; I figured I’d shoot him a postcard once I figured out what I was going to do with myself. I waved to Johnathan, Josh, and Bill as they drove away. As the Explorer faded into the distance, I tucked me cold hands into my jean pockets, and started down the sidewalk.
It didn’t take long for me to come across a little diner, and in front of it was a local newspaper bin. I jingled the change in my pocket, and pulled out fifty cents to buy a copy of that day’s. The machine was a faded blue, and gave a rusty click as I pulled the drawer open. With newspaper in hand, I sheepishly made my way into the restaurant and took a seat at a corner booth. It only took a minute for the waitress to make her way to me. “What can I get you, son?” I ordered a small soda, and sipped on it as I made my way through the paper. Civic projects, local car accidents, and the local high school’s ‘A student-list’ made up the majority of the text, but as I made it to the classifieds section, a metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.
I could get a job, and, at least temporarily, live there while I figured out what I wanted to do with myself. This was the first actual time a thought like this had occurred to me. I suppose that, on some level, I’d been avoiding long-term plans. Deep down I thought I’d just wander around long enough, and my purpose would just come to me. Since it hadn’t yet, I figured a peaceful feeling in some town I’d never heard of was the closest thing to a divine sign. At the time, I didn’t even know the name of the place I was at. When the waitress walked back by, I tapped her shoulder and asked her where I was. “Florence, Maine.” I thanked her, and continued reading my paper. There were a couple of restaurant jobs; bussing tables mostly, but apart from that, options were pretty sparse. When the waitress walked back by, I tapped her on the shoulder again. “Miss, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but I was wondering if y’all had a phone I could use to make a local call?” She just looked at me for a moment. “Well, I suppose it’d be alright. Phone’s over there.” She pointed to a back table. I nodded and smiled: “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Only one of the restaurant jobs didn’t require previous experience, so I called up the place to see if the position was still open. “Filled it yesterday afternoon, kid.” With that, he hung up on me. God I miss Southern hospitality. Since that fizzled, I finished up my drink, and paid my bill. I only had about forty dollars left, and that had to last me until I got a job and eventually got my first paycheck. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what I should do, so I just left and started walking down the sidewalk. As I walked, I passed a quaint antique store, a coffee shop, another restaurant, a bookstore, and a few other knickknack shops.
I would have browsed around a little, but it was five-fifteen in the afternoon, and all the shops closed at five. I just kept walking until I eventually came to what I could only guess was the outskirts of the town. There, I found a construction jobsite, and in the little window to the Winnebago was a handwritten “Help Wanted” sign. It was written with black sharpie, on brown cardboard. The lights were on inside the trailer, so I figured what the hell, the worst they could say is no. I knocked on the door, and from the inside I heard a thunderous “Come in!” I pulled the creaky door open, and inside I found a small man with a very loud voice. “What can I do for you, young man?” “Well sir, I saw the sign in the window, and I was wondering if you were still looking for some help?”
He didn’t say anything at first, just looked me up and down; sizing me up. “You got any experience?” “Well, no sir, not really. But I am a quick learner, and I really do need this job.” He got quiet for a few moments, and then gave a slight nod. “Well kid, give me tonight to think about it. Check back with me tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll let you know then. Okay?” “Yeah, absolutely. Thanks so much for the consideration, sir. See you tomorrow.” I walked backward down the little makeshift stairs; they were nothing more than stacked cinder blocks, really. Once I was out of the little construction area, I stopped on the sidewalk, and kicked the red mud that had gathered on my shoes off onto the curb. By now the sun was starting to set, and I had absolutely nowhere to go.
I never thought you could literally fall in love with a place, but when we stopped to get gas in this town a little ways out of Bangor, on the Penobscot River, I knew that I was where I needed to be. From the moment I got out of the car, and sat foot on the pavement at the little mid-town gas station, everything just felt right. My heart was telling me to stay. The entire time I’d been alive, I had never followed my heart. I always did what made sense; took the path of least resistance. For one of the first times in my life, I decided that I was going to do something for absolutely no more reason than that it felt right.
The city wasn’t very big, probably a bit larger than the town I grew up in back South; but the place was perfect. The streets were clean and aged, the buildings had a gothic style to them; old brick, some with vines climbing all the way up the fire escapes. Josh and the rest were heading up to Canada pretty soon anyways, and I was getting too broke to travel, so I decided to stay there. At least for a while. As the guys started loading back into the Explorer, I just lingered at the front of the store. “You coming bro?” asked Josh, as he noticed my reluctance. “No, I don’t think so, guys. Y’all will be crossing the border pretty soon anyways, and this place seems… nice. I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”
We all exchanged some high-fives and handshakes, and I graciously thanked them for keeping me around as long as they did. I had jotted down Josh’s address and phone number back in Texas yesterday; I figured I’d shoot him a postcard once I figured out what I was going to do with myself. I waved to Johnathan, Josh, and Bill as they drove away. As the Explorer faded into the distance, I tucked me cold hands into my jean pockets, and started down the sidewalk.
It didn’t take long for me to come across a little diner, and in front of it was a local newspaper bin. I jingled the change in my pocket, and pulled out fifty cents to buy a copy of that day’s. The machine was a faded blue, and gave a rusty click as I pulled the drawer open. With newspaper in hand, I sheepishly made my way into the restaurant and took a seat at a corner booth. It only took a minute for the waitress to make her way to me. “What can I get you, son?” I ordered a small soda, and sipped on it as I made my way through the paper. Civic projects, local car accidents, and the local high school’s ‘A student-list’ made up the majority of the text, but as I made it to the classifieds section, a metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.
I could get a job, and, at least temporarily, live there while I figured out what I wanted to do with myself. This was the first actual time a thought like this had occurred to me. I suppose that, on some level, I’d been avoiding long-term plans. Deep down I thought I’d just wander around long enough, and my purpose would just come to me. Since it hadn’t yet, I figured a peaceful feeling in some town I’d never heard of was the closest thing to a divine sign. At the time, I didn’t even know the name of the place I was at. When the waitress walked back by, I tapped her shoulder and asked her where I was. “Florence, Maine.” I thanked her, and continued reading my paper. There were a couple of restaurant jobs; bussing tables mostly, but apart from that, options were pretty sparse. When the waitress walked back by, I tapped her on the shoulder again. “Miss, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but I was wondering if y’all had a phone I could use to make a local call?” She just looked at me for a moment. “Well, I suppose it’d be alright. Phone’s over there.” She pointed to a back table. I nodded and smiled: “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Only one of the restaurant jobs didn’t require previous experience, so I called up the place to see if the position was still open. “Filled it yesterday afternoon, kid.” With that, he hung up on me. God I miss Southern hospitality. Since that fizzled, I finished up my drink, and paid my bill. I only had about forty dollars left, and that had to last me until I got a job and eventually got my first paycheck. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what I should do, so I just left and started walking down the sidewalk. As I walked, I passed a quaint antique store, a coffee shop, another restaurant, a bookstore, and a few other knickknack shops.
I would have browsed around a little, but it was five-fifteen in the afternoon, and all the shops closed at five. I just kept walking until I eventually came to what I could only guess was the outskirts of the town. There, I found a construction jobsite, and in the little window to the Winnebago was a handwritten “Help Wanted” sign. It was written with black sharpie, on brown cardboard. The lights were on inside the trailer, so I figured what the hell, the worst they could say is no. I knocked on the door, and from the inside I heard a thunderous “Come in!” I pulled the creaky door open, and inside I found a small man with a very loud voice. “What can I do for you, young man?” “Well sir, I saw the sign in the window, and I was wondering if you were still looking for some help?”
He didn’t say anything at first, just looked me up and down; sizing me up. “You got any experience?” “Well, no sir, not really. But I am a quick learner, and I really do need this job.” He got quiet for a few moments, and then gave a slight nod. “Well kid, give me tonight to think about it. Check back with me tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll let you know then. Okay?” “Yeah, absolutely. Thanks so much for the consideration, sir. See you tomorrow.” I walked backward down the little makeshift stairs; they were nothing more than stacked cinder blocks, really. Once I was out of the little construction area, I stopped on the sidewalk, and kicked the red mud that had gathered on my shoes off onto the curb. By now the sun was starting to set, and I had absolutely nowhere to go.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
Random Name
- Oskar Winner: 2007
- Posts: 10134
- Joined: 8/16/2003, 2:57 pm
- Location: New Finland
YAY!!!
Wow, okay. This is starting to get fun.
Maybe it's unintentionaly, but Alex seems a lot like Trent.
Okay, so maybe its just the whole southern thing. And the whole writing thing. And the whole construction thing. Nevermind. You guys are nothing alike. 
I'm only kidding you, man. They say that there is a part of the author in every character. I guess using some of your own personality and experiences are helping to define a reality for Alex. Which I like. I mean, the kids homeless, going nowhere, riding north with a bunch of collage guys and he still thinks to write poerty and helps write some music. Thats how it goes.
Wow, okay. This is starting to get fun.
Maybe it's unintentionaly, but Alex seems a lot like Trent.
Okay, so maybe its just the whole southern thing. And the whole writing thing. And the whole construction thing. Nevermind. You guys are nothing alike.
I'm only kidding you, man. They say that there is a part of the author in every character. I guess using some of your own personality and experiences are helping to define a reality for Alex. Which I like. I mean, the kids homeless, going nowhere, riding north with a bunch of collage guys and he still thinks to write poerty and helps write some music. Thats how it goes.
-Sarah
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
Random Name wrote:YAY!!!
Wow, okay. This is starting to get fun.
Maybe it's unintentionaly, but Alex seems a lot like Trent.
I'm only kidding you, man. They say that there is a part of the author in every character. I guess using some of your own personality and experiences are helping to define a reality for Alex. Which I like. I mean, the kids homeless, going nowhere, riding north with a bunch of collage guys and he still thinks to write poerty and helps write some music. Thats how it goes.
Yeah, I too noticed a few character parallels.
The diffs are: Alex is a bit more naive, and a lot braver than myself. Plus, his love story plays out a bit more grand than mine; but they both come to a similiar finale. I figured that, on my first real writing effort, I should go with something close to the heart. I roughly know where I want to go with the story from here; but I just can't figure out how to get there 
I'm thinking he may, eventually, work in the bookstore; but I dunno.
Thanks SO much for reading guys!
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
>>> FALLEN LEAVES [NEXT CHUNK] >>>
As I looked up from the ground, my sight fell back toward the inner parts of the town. Out of habit, I turned my head the other way to see what was there, past the construction site, and my eyes caught a sparkle in the distance. A neon sign had been lit up. I was too far away to be able to read it, and without thinking I just started walking towards it. As I got closer, I finally made out that the sign said “Jerry’s Place.” It was a club, and according to the sign on the door, it stayed open from dusk ‘till dawn. Looks like I found somewhere to hide from the elements for the night. You only had to be eighteen to get through the doors, so once I entered I pulled up a seat at a corner table, and just tried to blend in.
The place was barely lit, and hanging above the center of the dance floor spun a cheesy 70’s disco ball. Pretty much everyone in there was about my age, or a little older. Judging by the sheer amount of people there, this place was definitely the 20-something hangout for the area. I sat up for a while, but I eventually leaned my head back on the wall to at least relax my muscles a little. I watched the people just stream by, every second a new face faded against the darkness and moving light. I sat there through the night, and by early morning pretty much everyone had cleared out. By daybreak I was absolutely exhausted, having gotten no rest due to the blaring music and schizophrenic lighting system. As the last few patrons at the bar started to make their way out, I too got up and stumbled into the glaring sun outside.
I started walking back toward the center of town. I went slow, soaking in the morning; trying desperately to pull some of that newness into my tired self. By the time I made it into town, the diner was already open, so I went in for some breakfast. I desperately didn’t need to spend the money, but I was starving. So I ordered a couple of biscuits and water; hopefully that would be enough to fill my aching stomach. I sat in there for a while, watching the morning news on the small television on the little bar. Once the news ended, I pulled out the book of poetry I’d gotten back in New York, and just skimmed through it nonchalantly. Pretty soon the waitress, a middle-aged woman, having seen the book I was reading, walked by, rolled her eyes, and sighed under her breath: “Damn hippies.” I just chuckled.
My eyes moved to the glass in the window, and I looked at my reflection for the first time in a long while. I needed a haircut before I even left home; now I was looking downright shaggy. I also had a little facial hair fuzz starting to creep onto my cheeks. Couple that with the fact that I was reading a poetry book, I don’t think I could blame her for the comment. I got up pretty soon after that, and aimed my sights toward the downtown stores for exploration.
The first one I came to was an antique shop. I’m not too big an antique fan, always thought of it more as junk, really; but I didn’t have much else to do, so I popped in to look around. Upon further examination, I reaffirmed my original thought – it was mostly junk. That is, everything except the thing I found set up on the farthest back wall: a jukebox. I could tell it was pretty old, but it looked like it could play CDs. Pretty soon the elderly lady that owned the place found me and elaborated. “It was one of the first models to play those compact disc things; I prefer records myself, easier to use.” She had a small shake to her voice, a thin crack when she said ‘use’. I suppose that’s what happens once you get older. I thanked her for the insight, and made my way back towards the door to get out. Before I left, I snagged a postcard from their little rack of Maine pictures. I hadn’t written Cass in a while, so I figured I’d drop her a line while I had the time. After the antique store, I found a little coffee shop. I had nowhere near enough money to actually get a drink, so I just went in and sat down to write Cassie.
“Cass—
I miss you so much. I’m up in Maine, and I think I like it here. I may stick around this little town I round for a while. It’s a great place; you have to see it someday. I just wanted to let you know that I was still out here…
Don’t forget about me…
-Alex”
By then it was almost eleven o’ clock in the morning, so I started walking back toward the construction site. By the time I made it there, it was about fifteen minutes until noon. I knocked on the little trailer door. “Come in!” bellowed the heavy voice, again. I walked in, but before I could say anything he asked “So kid, when can you start?” I smile spread across my face. “Anytime sir; just as soon as you need me.” “Does today sound good? I just had a guy quit on me, and I could use an extra set of hands here for a couple of days. If you handle that alright, I have an opening on a vinyl siding crew. Sound good?” I was stunned. “Umm, yeah; that’s great.”
I’d never worked construction before. I once spent a summer working for a moving company, but that was the closest I could think of as far as experience goes. All I really did that first day was help move cinder blocks and two by fours around. Nothing way too hard or strenuous. At the end of the day I went to Michael’s trailer, the foreman that had hired me, to finish up my paperwork for the job. I also asked him when payday was. “Well, we usually wait a week for new employees; but we don’t have much of a problem with advances. If you’d like, I can go ahead and pay you for today, and just take it off the top of your check when it gets cut. Cool?” “Yeah, that’s fantastic. Thanks a lot.” Having worked barely a half a day, the check was pretty small; but it was at least something.
I again had nowhere to go, so I made my way back toward “Jerry’s” to again sit around for seven hours. This time it was more crowded than before, and the only seat left available was a stool on the end of the bar. I made my way over there and slumped into the seat. I had my hands resting on the tabletop, and I had my eyes dropped down onto them. Suddenly I was hit by a feeling of déjà vu. A scent I hadn’t encountered in a long while filled my nostrils. It smelled like flowers. I looked up to find myself face to face with the bartender. It was Julia.
...
On my master version of the story I have on my laptop, with all my little edits, I had gone back and added that, when he first met Jules, the first thing he noticed was the scent of her perfume: it smelt of flowers. Her destination was also changed from Jersey to Maine; so that's how everything fits. I had originally planned for all of this to take place in Jersey, but I changed my mind and made it Maine.
...
As I looked up from the ground, my sight fell back toward the inner parts of the town. Out of habit, I turned my head the other way to see what was there, past the construction site, and my eyes caught a sparkle in the distance. A neon sign had been lit up. I was too far away to be able to read it, and without thinking I just started walking towards it. As I got closer, I finally made out that the sign said “Jerry’s Place.” It was a club, and according to the sign on the door, it stayed open from dusk ‘till dawn. Looks like I found somewhere to hide from the elements for the night. You only had to be eighteen to get through the doors, so once I entered I pulled up a seat at a corner table, and just tried to blend in.
The place was barely lit, and hanging above the center of the dance floor spun a cheesy 70’s disco ball. Pretty much everyone in there was about my age, or a little older. Judging by the sheer amount of people there, this place was definitely the 20-something hangout for the area. I sat up for a while, but I eventually leaned my head back on the wall to at least relax my muscles a little. I watched the people just stream by, every second a new face faded against the darkness and moving light. I sat there through the night, and by early morning pretty much everyone had cleared out. By daybreak I was absolutely exhausted, having gotten no rest due to the blaring music and schizophrenic lighting system. As the last few patrons at the bar started to make their way out, I too got up and stumbled into the glaring sun outside.
I started walking back toward the center of town. I went slow, soaking in the morning; trying desperately to pull some of that newness into my tired self. By the time I made it into town, the diner was already open, so I went in for some breakfast. I desperately didn’t need to spend the money, but I was starving. So I ordered a couple of biscuits and water; hopefully that would be enough to fill my aching stomach. I sat in there for a while, watching the morning news on the small television on the little bar. Once the news ended, I pulled out the book of poetry I’d gotten back in New York, and just skimmed through it nonchalantly. Pretty soon the waitress, a middle-aged woman, having seen the book I was reading, walked by, rolled her eyes, and sighed under her breath: “Damn hippies.” I just chuckled.
My eyes moved to the glass in the window, and I looked at my reflection for the first time in a long while. I needed a haircut before I even left home; now I was looking downright shaggy. I also had a little facial hair fuzz starting to creep onto my cheeks. Couple that with the fact that I was reading a poetry book, I don’t think I could blame her for the comment. I got up pretty soon after that, and aimed my sights toward the downtown stores for exploration.
The first one I came to was an antique shop. I’m not too big an antique fan, always thought of it more as junk, really; but I didn’t have much else to do, so I popped in to look around. Upon further examination, I reaffirmed my original thought – it was mostly junk. That is, everything except the thing I found set up on the farthest back wall: a jukebox. I could tell it was pretty old, but it looked like it could play CDs. Pretty soon the elderly lady that owned the place found me and elaborated. “It was one of the first models to play those compact disc things; I prefer records myself, easier to use.” She had a small shake to her voice, a thin crack when she said ‘use’. I suppose that’s what happens once you get older. I thanked her for the insight, and made my way back towards the door to get out. Before I left, I snagged a postcard from their little rack of Maine pictures. I hadn’t written Cass in a while, so I figured I’d drop her a line while I had the time. After the antique store, I found a little coffee shop. I had nowhere near enough money to actually get a drink, so I just went in and sat down to write Cassie.
“Cass—
I miss you so much. I’m up in Maine, and I think I like it here. I may stick around this little town I round for a while. It’s a great place; you have to see it someday. I just wanted to let you know that I was still out here…
Don’t forget about me…
-Alex”
By then it was almost eleven o’ clock in the morning, so I started walking back toward the construction site. By the time I made it there, it was about fifteen minutes until noon. I knocked on the little trailer door. “Come in!” bellowed the heavy voice, again. I walked in, but before I could say anything he asked “So kid, when can you start?” I smile spread across my face. “Anytime sir; just as soon as you need me.” “Does today sound good? I just had a guy quit on me, and I could use an extra set of hands here for a couple of days. If you handle that alright, I have an opening on a vinyl siding crew. Sound good?” I was stunned. “Umm, yeah; that’s great.”
I’d never worked construction before. I once spent a summer working for a moving company, but that was the closest I could think of as far as experience goes. All I really did that first day was help move cinder blocks and two by fours around. Nothing way too hard or strenuous. At the end of the day I went to Michael’s trailer, the foreman that had hired me, to finish up my paperwork for the job. I also asked him when payday was. “Well, we usually wait a week for new employees; but we don’t have much of a problem with advances. If you’d like, I can go ahead and pay you for today, and just take it off the top of your check when it gets cut. Cool?” “Yeah, that’s fantastic. Thanks a lot.” Having worked barely a half a day, the check was pretty small; but it was at least something.
I again had nowhere to go, so I made my way back toward “Jerry’s” to again sit around for seven hours. This time it was more crowded than before, and the only seat left available was a stool on the end of the bar. I made my way over there and slumped into the seat. I had my hands resting on the tabletop, and I had my eyes dropped down onto them. Suddenly I was hit by a feeling of déjà vu. A scent I hadn’t encountered in a long while filled my nostrils. It smelled like flowers. I looked up to find myself face to face with the bartender. It was Julia.
...
On my master version of the story I have on my laptop, with all my little edits, I had gone back and added that, when he first met Jules, the first thing he noticed was the scent of her perfume: it smelt of flowers. Her destination was also changed from Jersey to Maine; so that's how everything fits. I had originally planned for all of this to take place in Jersey, but I changed my mind and made it Maine.
...
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
Wow, it's going really good, keep it up.
Queens Of The Stone Age-Someone's In The Wolf
Once you're lost in twillights's blue
You don't find your way, the way finds you...
Tempt the fates, beware the smile
It hides all the teeth, my dear,
What's behind them...
So glad you could stay
Forever
He steps between the trees, a crooked man
There's blood on the blade
Don't take his hand
You warm by the firelight, in twilight's blue
Shadows creep & dance the walls
He's creeping too..
So glad you could stay
Forever
<----------------- click and listen!-
trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
>>> FALLEN LEAVES [Next Chunk] >>>
The only thing either of us could do was just stand there, looking into each others eyes. What could I say? What could she say? That moment seemed to last forever. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans and a small t-shirt; and to the left of her shirt was pinned a nametag that read ‘Jasmine.’ All I could see in her eyes were sadness and regret. After what felt like an eternity of stunned silence, she finally broke it: “Ohh My God, Alex...” Before she could finish, the manager yelled at her from behind to get back to work. Her head jerked around in acknowledgement, and as she turned back to me she whispered, “I’m off in an hour, meet me at the back entrance; we can talk then.” I nodded in agreement. As I turned to walk away, she called me back: “Alex, I’m sorry about what happened.” I just lowered my head: “I, I’ll see you in an hour.” She gave me a slight nod, and smile, and headed back to taking orders. As I made it to the door of the club, I looked back to find her smoky visage still watching me walk away. I went out of the club because my mind needed a little while to process what had just happened, and the pounding music found inside didn’t help my concentration. I just walked around to the side of the building, and slumped down to my feet, with my back against the cool brick wall. “Should I forgive her?” I said to myself. I wasn’t that mad anymore; I hadn’t even really thought about Julia at all since I hooked up with Josh and the guys. All I could do was give it time, and see how the coming moments, and the coming days played out. Even after all that had happened, I still considered her my friend. And she was genuinely sorry; no one could fake that kind of sincere guilt and regret I had found in her face.
After about fifty-five minutes, I pulled myself up from the ground, and made my way around to the back entrance. There, I found Jules already waiting for me. As I came across the corner, she started walking towards me, and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I haven’t slept, I’ve been so worried about what might have happened to you after I… after what happened. I’m so sorry.” Once she’d finished, I took my hands and pulled her arms that had been reached around me in embrace away. “How could you do that to me, Jules? God, if you needed the money that bad, I’d have given it to you. You didn’t have to… you didn’t have to do what you did.” “I know,” tears were starting to glide down her smooth cheek; “I just… I just didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
I sighed aloud, and sat down on the curb; lowering my head in thought, and fingering with my bracelet out of habit. After a moment she came and sat down beside. We just sat there in silence, neither of us knowing what to say, for a long while. “So, how did you know where to find me?” she finally asked. I slowly raised my head, and turned to look her in the eye. “I didn’t. I was just passing through, and ended up here.” “Do you have somewhere to stay?” she asked. I lowered my head back down, and nodded no. “You… you can stay with me, if you want. At my aunt’s, I mean.” I just sat there a few more minutes, thinking. With no other option presenting itself, I finally raised back up, and uttered a weak “Thanks.”
She took my hands and jokingly helped pull me to my feet. She led me toward the sidewalk, and we started walking through the cold night. Before we got very far, I stopped her and asked “Why ‘Jasmine’?” as I thumped the nametag shining on her shirt. “Ohh,” she said embarrassed. “I thought it sounded, I don’t know; exotic, I guess. I just wanted a fresh start here.” “A night blooming flower, suppose that makes sense,” I said. She just shrugged, “I suppose so.” We walked the next few minutes in quiet. After close to a block, I asked her “So… how far is it to where we’re going?” “About seven blocks,” she replied, through near-chattering teeth. The first couple of blocks we walked close together, side-by side. About half of the way there, she put her arm around me and pulled herself in close. “I’m cold,” she slowly whispered under her breath. I just nodded along, and continued walking.
It didn’t take much longer to make it to the place. It was just a simple, aged apartment building. Julia’s aunt lived on the fifth floor. The elevator was out of order, so we had to take the stairs all the way up. The stairwell reminded me of the kind you see in old horror movies, drenched in untold stories and long-gone eras. It was late, and we were both tired from the walk and sequential days before, so we took our time making it up the stairs. It was eerily silent; every creak of the stairs echoed like a crash of thunder in my head.
...
The only thing either of us could do was just stand there, looking into each others eyes. What could I say? What could she say? That moment seemed to last forever. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans and a small t-shirt; and to the left of her shirt was pinned a nametag that read ‘Jasmine.’ All I could see in her eyes were sadness and regret. After what felt like an eternity of stunned silence, she finally broke it: “Ohh My God, Alex...” Before she could finish, the manager yelled at her from behind to get back to work. Her head jerked around in acknowledgement, and as she turned back to me she whispered, “I’m off in an hour, meet me at the back entrance; we can talk then.” I nodded in agreement. As I turned to walk away, she called me back: “Alex, I’m sorry about what happened.” I just lowered my head: “I, I’ll see you in an hour.” She gave me a slight nod, and smile, and headed back to taking orders. As I made it to the door of the club, I looked back to find her smoky visage still watching me walk away. I went out of the club because my mind needed a little while to process what had just happened, and the pounding music found inside didn’t help my concentration. I just walked around to the side of the building, and slumped down to my feet, with my back against the cool brick wall. “Should I forgive her?” I said to myself. I wasn’t that mad anymore; I hadn’t even really thought about Julia at all since I hooked up with Josh and the guys. All I could do was give it time, and see how the coming moments, and the coming days played out. Even after all that had happened, I still considered her my friend. And she was genuinely sorry; no one could fake that kind of sincere guilt and regret I had found in her face.
After about fifty-five minutes, I pulled myself up from the ground, and made my way around to the back entrance. There, I found Jules already waiting for me. As I came across the corner, she started walking towards me, and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I haven’t slept, I’ve been so worried about what might have happened to you after I… after what happened. I’m so sorry.” Once she’d finished, I took my hands and pulled her arms that had been reached around me in embrace away. “How could you do that to me, Jules? God, if you needed the money that bad, I’d have given it to you. You didn’t have to… you didn’t have to do what you did.” “I know,” tears were starting to glide down her smooth cheek; “I just… I just didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
I sighed aloud, and sat down on the curb; lowering my head in thought, and fingering with my bracelet out of habit. After a moment she came and sat down beside. We just sat there in silence, neither of us knowing what to say, for a long while. “So, how did you know where to find me?” she finally asked. I slowly raised my head, and turned to look her in the eye. “I didn’t. I was just passing through, and ended up here.” “Do you have somewhere to stay?” she asked. I lowered my head back down, and nodded no. “You… you can stay with me, if you want. At my aunt’s, I mean.” I just sat there a few more minutes, thinking. With no other option presenting itself, I finally raised back up, and uttered a weak “Thanks.”
She took my hands and jokingly helped pull me to my feet. She led me toward the sidewalk, and we started walking through the cold night. Before we got very far, I stopped her and asked “Why ‘Jasmine’?” as I thumped the nametag shining on her shirt. “Ohh,” she said embarrassed. “I thought it sounded, I don’t know; exotic, I guess. I just wanted a fresh start here.” “A night blooming flower, suppose that makes sense,” I said. She just shrugged, “I suppose so.” We walked the next few minutes in quiet. After close to a block, I asked her “So… how far is it to where we’re going?” “About seven blocks,” she replied, through near-chattering teeth. The first couple of blocks we walked close together, side-by side. About half of the way there, she put her arm around me and pulled herself in close. “I’m cold,” she slowly whispered under her breath. I just nodded along, and continued walking.
It didn’t take much longer to make it to the place. It was just a simple, aged apartment building. Julia’s aunt lived on the fifth floor. The elevator was out of order, so we had to take the stairs all the way up. The stairwell reminded me of the kind you see in old horror movies, drenched in untold stories and long-gone eras. It was late, and we were both tired from the walk and sequential days before, so we took our time making it up the stairs. It was eerily silent; every creak of the stairs echoed like a crash of thunder in my head.
...
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>