Just a little exercise.. The Prisoner Julius wanted out. He shuffled to the bars, ignoring the poster, scotch-taped to the flaking wall, of a black cat with white socks. Julius looked down at his own frayed socks, greasy and hopeless, but still almost white. The scent of old feet mixed with ancient whitewash and dirt floor. His hands found the familiar, cool sweat of the bars, and he stood with his head halfway out into the corridor. He could smell something wet cooking, very far away; it smelled like a stew, or a new casserole. Turning his head slightly, he thought he felt the faintest whiff of watermelon. His eyes hurt -- it felt like a metal wedge was lodged in his sinuses. Julius turned back to the window, small and crusted. It sent a square of morning light to the wall just above his head. Standing on his tiptoes and looking directly into the sun made his forehead feel better, but he looked away and the pain seeped back. A dog was barking, somewhere, on the outside.
Nathan Catfood can companies had come a long way since the 60s. Where before, Nate could have opened the lid with his thumbnail, he now had had to invest in a can opener. Of course, the flimsy cat can lids were nothing like the industrial lids he was used to, the ones back at the plant. Nate gave the can opener a final wrist twist and flipped the lid into the recycling bin. Peach Fuzz lapped around his leg, only half connecting with the dirty linoleum on the floor of the kitchenette. "Huzz scuzz, Peach Fuzz," Nathan intoned, plopping the wet, stinky food into Peach Fuzz's tan bowl. It joined the crusty ring around the inside of the bowl with a splat. Peach Fuzz moved in for the kill. The kitchenette had only one window, above the sink. It was black now, and green, and Nate watched his neighbors sit down to dinner across their shared, dark picket fence. The light that filled their dining room was clear white, the kind of light that could be bought for ten dollars at the Target down the street, or gathered for free at the locker room of the local swimming pool. Nathan's light was dirty and green, with hints of red and blue from the neon signs in the window of the package store across the street, and a patch of yellow from the streetlight on the sidewalk. The neighbors were as dirty as he was, but at least there were three of them. Peach Fuzz leapt onto Nate's thoughts as he felt the cat's claws dig into his arm. He lifted his arm without thinking, and Peach Fuzz came with it. Nate stuck his nose into the fur at the back of Peach Fuzz's neck, and they cuddled, watching the neighbors enjoy their ten-dollar light.
you are talented, and so freaken young too, wow you gonna post an entire story sometime or just tease?
Physics I was so grateful he knew my name. "Annie," he said, mouthing my upturned vowels so casually. By saying my name, he knew me inside and out. I could hardly meet his eyes after that day. I have snuck him a knowing smile only once or twice, though I'm sure they were all the sweeter for their rarity. Tonight, he asked me if I was in the school chorus, and I had to remind myself that he doesn't know everything about me, after all. But I want him to. I felt him looking in my direction more often this evening, directing his comments to my side of the room. His tone is familiar, like a song played for me in infancy. I can feel each chord before it plays; I know how his voice sways, and I respond in perfect harmony.
Shake His Hand Looking further into my glass, I spied an aged gentleman, more wizened than my mother would ever become - and it pleased me, this former bumble bee, brought to the end, the "off" switch, the crony-hating melange promised to him by his ancestors - that finish line hidden in plain sight all his life (he often caught the glint in the corner of his eye, to his excitement and dismay) and now it fills his vision, bright felt crashes of terror equally easy to worship and dismiss. Aha, the clever soul in waiting! The snaring gaze of no one rose upon his hairs, standing in ovation at the speaker's lament! Too long the shadow spoke his piece in silence, and now, my fellows, comes the reckoning. Take out your purses, here is the savior - step right up, my Lady; shake his hand.
