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.