In Fiction on August 23, 2012 at 6:21 AM
(19th in this challenge)
IT WAS A STARK AND DORMY NIGHT*.
Eleka thought she was alone. Bruce Hall had closed for the slushy Winter/Xmas hiatus. No vehicles existed in the ashy lot but hers. The hallway had traded in its Mary Jane abrasive sass for a mellow, generic, aired-out hallway smell. But if she was alone, who was manhandling her knocker?
And how did they have knowledge of her?
Her Santa nightlight wasn’t that bright. And it wasn’t that big.
“Let me in!” a male who was probably nerdy and skinny fat by the crack in his shrill. To my peep hole, she declared internally, so that I might investigate. When she put her eye to the hole, his pound felt like a pound in her face and she thought he was such a jerk she almost wanted the awful thing that was surely about to happen happen to him. Would serve him—
“Please!” Read the rest of this entry »
In Fiction on August 15, 2012 at 6:37 AM
(13th in this challenge)
Hank, Jeffers, Newman, and Westie stumbled into the diner with the coffee bar. Westie had passed out from the waist up. Newman shoved him over into the inside of their booth. It had been a great concert by whatever-their-names-were. Hank knew. He knew all of the local, national, Indie and everyone else bands. He was their obstetrician. As he slid into the booth next to Jeffers, he began to list his first hundred favorites onto the new OKCupid dating profile he’d begun a week ago.
“How should I start this?” he asked Jeffers.
“List it all: cubby bear, musicholic, etc. etc.”
“People like to write that they’re looking for a perfect snowflake, someone like no other.”
Jeffers and Newman cracked up across the table from one another. Hank couldn’t tell: laughing at him or laughing at each other? He thought they’d been flirting all night. They were always off-and-on.
“This is what you put,” Jeffers said, collar bone showing. Even drunk-faced, Hank thought, his best friend would receive a thousand messages on the site. “If you’re looking for a snowflake, I’m a ray of sunshine.” Read the rest of this entry »
In Fiction on August 5, 2012 at 11:18 AM
(4th in this challenge)
Two and half years ago, Tommy had made reservations for their first date at a restaurant only a few blocks away from a particular stoplight. He’d become sweaty upon opening the passenger side door for Jack when picking him up at his home. As Tommy stopped for the red light, he hoped Jack hadn’t and wouldn’t notice his sweat. But Jack didn’t seem the type to care; he might just find it enduring.
Read the rest of this entry »
In Fiction on August 4, 2012 at 3:25 PM
(3rd in this challenge)
From the drive-thru, I watch the nervous girl standing in line with her little brother (brother?) while her parents wait in the car, focused on their own phones. Her brother laughs with some other boys but she’s staring at the small group of people at the edge of the parking lot, trying not to be obvious—but she’s obvious.
“Want some coffee?” Dad asks, “I’ve earned a free one.”
“Seriously?” I ask. The seat belt constrains. Read the rest of this entry »