Tuesday, May 9, 2017

#9 - Simple Twist of Fate

Nathaniel was working with Banks at Jimmy's, the overcast growing. The radio was mumbling out the news.
"Yeah, well, he's not gotten that much better, but it could be a lot worse, I guess," said Banks about Michael's piano playing.
"Practice makes perfect," chuckled Nathaniel, putting up the newest books from shipment.
"How's your art coming along?" he asked.
"Oh, well, it's going good, actually. I've got more people who want to see my stuff- Some guy from a big city called me earlier this morning."
"Neat! It's good that you're getting somewhere."
"Wait," Banks walked over to the radio. "Don't a Sep and Chambly live in Winthrop Place?"
"Maybe. I don't know most of 'em."
"Last night, at 1:45 AM," the radio announced, "Caverly was driving his car when he accidentally struck Maralise. It is suspected that Maralise was sleep deprived, and unable to move out of the way of Caverly's vehicle. Both lived in Winthrop Place."

Nathaniel was walking through town when Beck called.
"Hey," Nathaniel answered.
"Hey, man. How are you?"
"I'm doing good. How about you?"
"I'm doing better, I think. Want to go to the Karnival Diner and catch up? It's been a while, sorry."
"Nah, no, that's fine. Just things have been changing, man. How does tomorrow morning sound?"
"Yeah, that sounds good. Also... isn't it pouring outside?"
"Yeah," Nathaniel laughed, "but you know me. I find peace in the rain."

He stood in the park, the stone cold statue standing over. The rest of town was illuminating in the black, the rain going down softly.
He did not know Sep or Chambly. He didn't know their lives, their dreams, or their regrets. He didn't know what they may have been thinking.
He did know, however, that each and every one of them shared two things: the passing of life and the halt of death.

I suppose that, really, it all comes down to a simple twist of fate.

Sunday, May 7, 2017

#8 - Shadows Are Falling

Nathaniel strode around in the massive IKEA. He had never been to one, Finnburg is small, and he wouldn't have gone, except that Banks had invited him, along with Michael. If anything, he liked her art work, and her tastes made his mind run like fabled spices of the far off lands. The two worked at Jimmy's Bookstore, discussing music- Nathaniel about guitar, and Bank about Michael's, somewhat, painful piano music.

He had been roaming around - when the power went out.

Shadows are falling, and I've been here all day, he thought. The panic and screaming was getting to Nathaniel when he saw the clown. The man with a painted face and fake life was looking around, as though nothing happened. Nathaniel made his way over and the clown turned.

"Where is the ringmaster?" he stood tall.

"He's skipped out of town," the clown said.

Nathaniel's body tensed and he bit his lower lip- his fists began to tighten and his brain was racing.

"Yeah, well, can you send him a message?"


Nathaniel's right hand, clenched, socked the clown right in his jaw, tumbling him to the ground.

"Stay the hell away. Forever."

The clown slowly shuffled back up and ran quickly around the corner.

"Damn," said a voice.

Turning, he saw it was Beck.

"Oh," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess."

Beck laughed. "Well, does that mean some kind of ending to your problem?"

Nathaniel paused. "Yeah, I mean..." he glanced around. "If you want to be happy, get rid of the bad, ya know?"

Beck nodded, smiling. Something came over his face, suddenly and his eyes darted around. "I've, uh, gotta go, actually. See ya around," he turned back towards the doors, the sun streaming through them.

Nathaniel smiled and strode around.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

#7 - Over the Rainbow

Under the red sky
They are gone forever now
Now he understands

“Nathaniel,” said the man with shining and round glasses, shaking his hand, “thank you very much for spending time with me today. I’m very sorry about your parents when you were young, and it is very brave of you to come and talk about it. Please, feel free to call at any time.”
Nathaniel nodded lightly, and smiled with a chuckle. “Thanks,” he paused. He looked through the room; the mahogany walls and the paintings of heroes and justice made him feel the odor of his father’s study come back. That home was still there. He glanced to the window, the shining sun and white heaves gleaming. “I… well,” he saw the double rainbow across the sky. “I think I’ll come to good days.”
“Of course! It takes time. Have a good day.”
He smiled, leaving. At the darkness of night, he, for the first time, felt just over the borderline.

Monday, January 23, 2017

#5 (6) - The Cold & The Ice

Nathaniel stepped out from Winthrop Place, a deep, black color enveloping the sky. The starts prickled throughout the darkness, shining dots in the night. The air was a deep, striking cold, even in Nathaniel's thick black coat made by Le'Huzanna. Taking a sigh, a small smile crept on Nathaniel's lips. 
Past along Redwood Avenue, there is a circular pond. Once of crystal clear water, it was now thick ice that would sometimes shimmer from the light of the full moon. Nathaniel reached the pond, a family out on one end and the visiting inmates on another end. While the police department was taking a risk having the inmates out there in the open, they kept keen eyes on the people in orange. Or black and white striped outfits. 
Nathaniel stood on one end of the pond, his eyes now looking into the frozen pond. It seemed to him that the turquoise ice shined brightly on his face. 
I was thinkin' about turquoise, 
I was thinkin' about gold,
I was thinkin' about dragons...

"Howdy," a police officer came up to stand next to Nathaniel, taking his eyes off of the inmates. "You enjoyin' the cold still?"
"No, not much," he chuckled. "How 'bout you?"
"Eh, well, I've been everywhere. Been in the devilish cold, and sat through an endless desert. I'm used to it." Nathaniel nodded.
"Say, you from Cabiness? Your voice seems to have a hint of it in there."
"Yeah, right out of town," Nathaniel said looking at the man. 
"Ah, yeah, thought so. I've a son from there. Visited him last spring and he had that accent, ha! Real pleasure to hear it, I suppose." The officer put his eyes back on the inmates, hands hanging by his sides. "Least he ain't sounding like he speaks pig or somethin'." 
Nathaniel let out a small chuckle. 
"Ya know, it's always nice to see the inmates smile. I mean, yeah, they did break the law- at least according to the jury- but they're still human, you know? Still got a brain and a heart. And when they're out here, they've got a smile too." 
The officer looked at Nathaniel's feet. "Ya know that you need skates to go on there, right? There's plenty of pairs by a small box with 'Little Free Library of Ice Skates' on it. Sure that you'll find a size to fit you."
Nathaniel looked at the inmates, locking his eyes as they whizzed by and by on the ice. The sky was missing the starts and was filled of clouds, and snow began to slowly drizzle down. 

Wore a white garb at the hospital for that whole year.
It was always clean, smooth. The blood still showed though... I could still see it and it wouldn't wash away.
The Doc was nice and all- his terminology was real boring. 
One day, The Nurse took me out to the fields. The sky was orange from the dawn, and the grass was dead as the trees. The air was freezing, and ice sickles hang from the branches.
"C'mon," she told me in her voice, "go and play on the ice with the skates."
Taking my feet on there, her holding me, I just barely didn't fall. She gave me a second to stand, and right afterwards told me to push forward. 
I did and fell. With her telling me to, I got right back up and tried again. And again. And again. And again.
Until I wasn't falling anymore and just sliding on the ice in circles. Endless circles and time that was ending. We went back into Amity Mental Hospital, both of us laughing and giggling the whole trip back to Room 222.

"Where'd you say I can get a pair of skates?"

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

#4 - The Murder in The 7th Floor

Nathaniel's tuxedo may have costed a fortune to rent, but it seemed worth it, walking out in the chilling night, it's fabric holding from the heavy winds.

Nathaniel reached the door to the 7th floor, with Beck coming right behind him.
“Hey, Beck,” Nathaniel opened the door, “Nice to see you’re here.”
“Yeah, good to see ya too, buddy,” Beck said. “Thanks,” he passed by Nathaniel into the floor. Walking into the room, there was already a murmur of activity. People were chatting and talking, waiting to get started with the dinner. Nathaniel walked up to a group with Beck in it, clutching his fake self made novel.
Nathaniel didn’t listen to what anyone in the group was saying, except he heard that Beck’s role was a lawyer, and that Eadon was the mayor.
“It’s great to be in the company of two members of the bureaucracy!” Nathaniel joked. Beck laughed along, and Eadon chuckled. Nathaniel left the group, and then drifted over the condiments table. There were cookies, punch juice, and some cupcakes. Maya came over to him. “Yeah, I know they look horrible,” she said. “I promise that the rest of it isn’t as rushed.”
“I think it’s all okay,” Nathan said with a smile, taking a cupcake. “Nothing is as bad as it seems.” Maya smiled a little and then walked away. While undoing the wrapping, Nathaniel saw the rest of the party was underway, people were gathering at the table and taking their seats.
Nathaniel walked over to the table, taking a seat at the corner. Everyone continued to chat, and Nathaniel opened his book- the fake novel made by his fake character. While he looked, Nathaniel’s eyes roamed the inkless and wordless pages. He traced creases and invisible lines with his finger.

And it was then that the blood was too much, and it was then that he became blinded. He, of all men, was a blinded fool. There was no family and there was no love left. He was going out of his mind. There was only the deaths. Only the deaths.

While reading, the lights went out. A shrill scream was heard. And then, the lights came on, followed by gasps in surprise. The circus’ second man was dead, flooded in his blood. Nathaniel looked briefly, turning his head away to look at the empty pages.

Only the deaths.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

#3 - Matthew 5:4

The underground trailer park was the newest discovery by Nathaniel in this town. He was glad to see it wasn’t underground, and the cool breeze felt nice. There were trailers and not much else. Although, he could’ve sworn he’d heard a dog barking around.

He heard the rustling of steps coming near to him. It was the ringmaster from the circus. The circus left a while ago.

Nathaniel and Beck never did find out if the twins were actually magical. Instead, Beck was surprised by someone or something they’d seen before. Something to do with their father. Beck had told Nathaniel that they would talk about it later, but Nathaniel didn’t know when.
The event from the gold tent didn’t mean much to Nathaniel, he hadn’t been there - however, the gold seemed to be tainted by blood. Even if there wasn’t really blood there.

The ringmaster’s head was hanging, and his hands were drooping down, a glass of whiskey in one. The paint on his face seemed to be peeling a little, but the mustache was still a smile. Just like the circus, Nathaniel was sure the ringmaster was an old element of his childhood.
“A nice girl talked to me today,” the ringmaster said with a slight southern accent, and the sound of a seasoned drunkard.
“That’s good to hear,” Nathaniel replied, turning to face him. “Who was she?”
“A girl from where y'all live, the apartments... Ah- Banks is, er, her name, I think.”
“She works at Jimmy's. Seems she likes that place a lot…” Nathaniel mumbled off.
The ringmaster was quiet for a while, but he then slowly stepped closer to Nathaniel.
“Ya, know boy,” the ringmaster declared out, “I’s feelin’ you’ve been to my circus ‘fore the night you was there.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
“Oh, twas much a-time ago. There were many things back then,” he sighed. “Ya know, there was many-a folks there, back then. There was an old man who was famous once.”
“What happened to him?” Nathaniel inquired.
“He died. The cops didn’t think to look at ‘im.” he paused. “No one looked at ‘em,”
“But he was famous long ago, fo’ playin’ the electric violin,” the ringmaster said, looking out and tilting his head a little.
The silence seemed to carry on in the air. It was like suppressing a storm with divine powers, or stopping water flow with a dam. There was going to be a release, a revelation.

“Your favo’ color was gold, wasn’t it?” the ringmaster asked.
Nathaniel looked at the man, no sound coming out and no ability of movement in Nathaniel’s possession any longer.
“Ah, but, back then, the circus was, er, lawless,” the ringmaster said.
“And there was an accident. An, ah, accident that killed some- no, some people that you knew. People ya loved,” the ringmaster peered at Nathaniel, his face seeming to ask for confirmation.
“You was there with them, just as you had been many, many times before. And then, suddenly-”
“Stop,” Nathaniel said. “You don’t-”
“That was when they died. And when you should’ve died.”
“Oh?” the ringmaster said, almost seeming sorry. “Yeah, o’ course. They didn’ tell ya. No, no, of course not... guesses ya forgot you was there!” he said.
The gold bars appeared in Nathaniel’s vision. The crowd was cheering. The clowns were balancing on unicycles, and the lion tamers controlling the roaring beast.
Nathaniel covered his face, the darkness insuring.
The image came back.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
He fell to his knees and he knelt down, his whole body shaking. He felt the tears stream down his face.
“Ya, of all of ‘em, somehow survived,” the ringmaster said, looking down at Nathaniel. Nathaniel gasped and groaned. He kicked the ground with his shoes. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, the tears still going. He rubbed and rubbed, but the blood was still there.
“I am sorry,” the ringmaster said softly.

Nathaniel stayed knelt there for a long time. The ringmaster’s steps slowly echoed away from him. Soon it was still air, slowly getting colder as it became darker.
Nathaniel, with a sigh, slowly stood up from the ground. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, wiping his face. He turned around and began to walk back to Winthrop Place.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

#2 - The Mirrors

Nathaniel was standing outside of Winthrop Place in the early hours of Thursday. The lights of the seventh floor were on. He cocked his head a little and thought hard. Has anyone lived there? Have those lights been on before? He crossed the street, the questions subsiding away in his mind.
Entering his room, Nathaniel set the ticket he had gotten himself for the circus onto the stool next to his door. The circus being here reminded him much about Finnburg. The ringmaster's green eyes reminded him of the parks, just like the old man of that ethnic grocery store. He hadn't gone there in a while. The circus was a fond element of his childhood, he and his parents spending long afternoons of the spring time there. However, thinking of the circus today, he came to think another thought. I never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down and did tricks for me. 
Nathaniel needed to only look a little harder and he'd be able to see another's feelings. It would shake his core or brighten his day. And it all depended on the other person.

Around 6:40 PM, Nathaniel got up from his chair and walked out the door and down into the street to the circus. He showed up to the place, the roller coaster looming over the whole event. It looked shaky and he could hear the creaks from it.
Nathaniel came through the entrance and bought a cup of water to drink. The money had come from Nathaniel's pay from work and the greenback dollars felt holy in his hands. The drink of the water, it tasted even more holy. He decided to take a look in the house of mirrors. Nathaniel had always liked the wobbly, slushy, and bendy shapes his body would turn into. It was harmless deformation of a human body. Something that Nathaniel would've liked more of at a circus. While walking to the house of mirrors, a few looked at him, wondering why a 23 year old man was here alone. He simply would pass them with a glance and be on his way.

He walked through the corridors of glass and chuckled with each turn, bend, twist, and arch of his body. He was like a slithering snake and he was like a large fat man with more dough than money left. He seemed to wound up and shrink up and wiggle. His whole body seemed good and his smile seemed bigger and fuller and the laughter of a child escaped him many times.
At one mirror, while stretching his arms upwards, and expanding his stomach into a long thin caterpillar-like shape, a voice suddenly called out.
"You gonna drink the rest of that water?" the voice asked.
Nathaniel realized there was a person behind him, and he turned around.
"I was planning to." he said. "Why'd you ask?"
"Oh, I just like water," they said. Nathaniel did not know what to say to this, but the other person seemed worth a chat and some time with. There's something about them, Nathaniel thought.
"Hey," Nathaniel began to say somewhat suddenly, "you wanna see if those twins are actually magical? The boy and the girl?"