"What an exercise in futility", muttered Aidan, continuing to remove snow from the area between the entrance to the underground bunker compound and the rear entrance to his family's main residence.
His father wanted this area kept clear, to afford the family the ability to retrieve items from the residence whenever the need arose and to prevent the risk of becoming trapped within the bunker. He breathes deeply, inhaling the brisk, snow-filled air, smiling at his fortune of being blessed with a cousin that grew hives at the thought of any industrious activity. Harold had been easily talked into relinquishing his shift of the shoveling duties.
How lucky for the family, that his father the de facto patriarch of the family, had made the decision to host the Christmas Festivities at their home. For the snow had started to fall three days prior to Christmas Day and was still continuing to fall, eight weeks after the turning of the new year.
In the preceding weeks, leading up to the Christmas Holiday, there had been whispers in the media and over the net of the coming of a second ice age on the horizon.
The weather's certainly taking a giant step in that direction. Normally, he would be able to glimpse some of the surrounding estates through the bare winter branches of mature oak and elm trees. However, now, conditions were near white-out, obscuring the white powdery mounds situated where those estates should have been. He swivels back around to take up the snow shovel and continue the task of clearing the surrounding area adjacent to the underground compound relatively clear.
His head jerks back in the direction he had been looking a moment ago, looking for that, which had drawn his attention. Are those dark shapes out in the storm moving? He hadn't seen anyone outside of his own relatives in weeks.
"Next, I'll be jumping at my own shadow", shaking his head, he scoops up a large measure of snow, flinging it towards the edge of the clearing. A quick gust blows the remnants of the powder-like snow up into his face, dusting portions of his ski mask. Thinking himself foolish, he decides to remain facing in the direction where he thought he had seen shapes shifting and moving.
"You don't seem to be accomplishing much with that shovel."
Aidan nearly leaps three feet into the air, before recognizing the muffled sound of his father's voice. Should he tell his father about the things he thought he saw.
The sound of a single gunshot thunders in the distance.
He feels his father's hand brush his shoulder, turning his head in his father's direction, he is nearly knocked off his feet by his father's falling body. The blood fountains from the neck of his father's coat, blood splashing crimson drops onto the snow obfuscated concrete...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Revealed
As I am walking through the mall, my attention diverts to a cinnamon bark colored suede jacket on the rack in the men's section, I can see through the window of the SYMS Store. I wonder how that would matchup with my suede Fila high-top sneakers. My mind wanders as I create a visual image of wearing the two items together.
"Strings, C'mon", the words start to fade out almost as soon as they are in the air.
A sudden squeak of my shoes, similar to the sound of sneakers in rapid motion on a gymnasium floor is the only reply I give. I zig and zag my way through the throng in the center of the hall and cut the corner, rounding Burger King, while heading towards the exit. It is at this time, I see Tommy exiting the second set of the double doors and moving abreast of the Coca-Cola Machine to the right. I increase my speed to narrow the distance gap between myself and Tommy. In my rush to make haste, I disregard the precarious position of my slouching dark blue denim pants. Just as I am about nine strides from the first set of double doors beneath the exit sign, my pants decide to betray me and drop to my knees, tripping me in the process.
Attempting to salvage a small portion of my dignity, I tuck and roll to my feet. Whew! That was close. In congratulating myself, on the save from the face flop I momentarily forgot about my pants being below my knees. Now, displaying my underwear to the unsuspecting public would be mortifying enough, however, today being NO DRAWERS WEDNESDAY at school (who would have ever thought that concept would take hold. As many girls as guys participate, if not more ), to the astonishment of a gaggle of girls at the opening of the movie theater to my left, I am completely naked from hip to knee. Even though, my nude modeling debut is only for the briefest of moments, each guffaw of laughter is like a lash from a wet whip to my pride and psyche. With one swift jerk, I return my pants to their proper position [where, within two strides they slide down to four inches below my waist].
An eternity later, I emerge from the second set of double doors of the mall, into the beginning of the first stage of dusk.
I find Tommy waiting curbside, in his Suzuki Samurai, wearing a perplexing expression [part annoyance, part anxious]. Without a word I hop into the passenger side seat, feeling like my hair should be on fire, to signify what had just transpired a few moments earlier in the mall. I reach over and give the knob on the stereo a full clock-wise turn, increasing the sound of the Junk Yard Band emanating from the two ten inch woofer MTX Speaker boxes. In order to make conversation more difficult as well as soothe my wounded pride by losing myself in the rhythms and percussions of the music.
Tommy accelerates the jeep forward, lurching away from the curb, rounding curves and corners, and shifting and down shifting like a madman.
At the same time I grab a hold of, and maintain a firm grip on the inside overhead passenger side handle for some relief from all the starts and jerks of the gear "snatching" which passes for shifting. Expecting to see the long-handled gear shifter come out of its moorings into Tommy's hand, I settle into enduring the less than comfortable, but, all too familiar ride as we blow through stop signs and speed through light after light.
"Hey yo, we got time to stop at the store?", I shout over the music.
Tommy's "Nope" sounds like a whisper compared to the backdrop of the percussions of the music.
The sardonic smile he wears, piques my curiosity. Figures, any question I ask would probably be met with just as vague of an answer. And I refuse to give Tommy the satisfaction of asking the destination we're racing towards.
Tommy turns the vehicle onto a side street, I recognize as the road that the church we are forced to attend at least one out of every four Sundays resides upon.
I tap Tommy on the shoulder with the back of my hand and nod in the direction of the 7-Eleven the jeep is approaching on the right hand side.
"Yo, get some gum, too"
"Cool"
Reentering the vehicle, I hold out the gum to Tommy and begin to stir my banana and coke slurpee.
About a quarter of a mile later, Tommy makes a left into a well lit parking lot adjacent to a small apartment building. As if from thin air, out pops this fine redbone [very light skin female, usually with red or brown hair] at the driver's side window. She looks past Tommy and greets me. She's about five feet, seven inches, reddish brown hair just passed shoulder length, and an athletic body with slight curves.
Not bad at all. Hmm, I wonder if she has a friend. Gotta play it cool, I'll wait for the opportunity to ask arises.
Tommy opens the door and hops out of the jeep, looping his arm around redbone's shoulders.
"Hey man, leave the keys!"
"chnnngg!" , the keys chime as I snatch them from the air. It is at this time that I notice another girl approaching the jeep from the shadows. Has she been there the whole time? As she emerges into the fullness of the soft yellow street lamp light, I can see right away she's one of the most unattractive girls I've ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on. Not that I'd win a prize in a beauty contest, but c'mon. Did Tommy have a hand in this?!
Caught completely by surprise, my mind freezes as I try to decide what to do..............
"Strings, C'mon", the words start to fade out almost as soon as they are in the air.
A sudden squeak of my shoes, similar to the sound of sneakers in rapid motion on a gymnasium floor is the only reply I give. I zig and zag my way through the throng in the center of the hall and cut the corner, rounding Burger King, while heading towards the exit. It is at this time, I see Tommy exiting the second set of the double doors and moving abreast of the Coca-Cola Machine to the right. I increase my speed to narrow the distance gap between myself and Tommy. In my rush to make haste, I disregard the precarious position of my slouching dark blue denim pants. Just as I am about nine strides from the first set of double doors beneath the exit sign, my pants decide to betray me and drop to my knees, tripping me in the process.
Attempting to salvage a small portion of my dignity, I tuck and roll to my feet. Whew! That was close. In congratulating myself, on the save from the face flop I momentarily forgot about my pants being below my knees. Now, displaying my underwear to the unsuspecting public would be mortifying enough, however, today being NO DRAWERS WEDNESDAY at school (who would have ever thought that concept would take hold. As many girls as guys participate, if not more ), to the astonishment of a gaggle of girls at the opening of the movie theater to my left, I am completely naked from hip to knee. Even though, my nude modeling debut is only for the briefest of moments, each guffaw of laughter is like a lash from a wet whip to my pride and psyche. With one swift jerk, I return my pants to their proper position [where, within two strides they slide down to four inches below my waist].
An eternity later, I emerge from the second set of double doors of the mall, into the beginning of the first stage of dusk.
I find Tommy waiting curbside, in his Suzuki Samurai, wearing a perplexing expression [part annoyance, part anxious]. Without a word I hop into the passenger side seat, feeling like my hair should be on fire, to signify what had just transpired a few moments earlier in the mall. I reach over and give the knob on the stereo a full clock-wise turn, increasing the sound of the Junk Yard Band emanating from the two ten inch woofer MTX Speaker boxes. In order to make conversation more difficult as well as soothe my wounded pride by losing myself in the rhythms and percussions of the music.
Tommy accelerates the jeep forward, lurching away from the curb, rounding curves and corners, and shifting and down shifting like a madman.
At the same time I grab a hold of, and maintain a firm grip on the inside overhead passenger side handle for some relief from all the starts and jerks of the gear "snatching" which passes for shifting. Expecting to see the long-handled gear shifter come out of its moorings into Tommy's hand, I settle into enduring the less than comfortable, but, all too familiar ride as we blow through stop signs and speed through light after light.
"Hey yo, we got time to stop at the store?", I shout over the music.
Tommy's "Nope" sounds like a whisper compared to the backdrop of the percussions of the music.
The sardonic smile he wears, piques my curiosity. Figures, any question I ask would probably be met with just as vague of an answer. And I refuse to give Tommy the satisfaction of asking the destination we're racing towards.
Tommy turns the vehicle onto a side street, I recognize as the road that the church we are forced to attend at least one out of every four Sundays resides upon.
I tap Tommy on the shoulder with the back of my hand and nod in the direction of the 7-Eleven the jeep is approaching on the right hand side.
"Yo, get some gum, too"
"Cool"
Reentering the vehicle, I hold out the gum to Tommy and begin to stir my banana and coke slurpee.
About a quarter of a mile later, Tommy makes a left into a well lit parking lot adjacent to a small apartment building. As if from thin air, out pops this fine redbone [very light skin female, usually with red or brown hair] at the driver's side window. She looks past Tommy and greets me. She's about five feet, seven inches, reddish brown hair just passed shoulder length, and an athletic body with slight curves.
Not bad at all. Hmm, I wonder if she has a friend. Gotta play it cool, I'll wait for the opportunity to ask arises.
Tommy opens the door and hops out of the jeep, looping his arm around redbone's shoulders.
"Hey man, leave the keys!"
"chnnngg!" , the keys chime as I snatch them from the air. It is at this time that I notice another girl approaching the jeep from the shadows. Has she been there the whole time? As she emerges into the fullness of the soft yellow street lamp light, I can see right away she's one of the most unattractive girls I've ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on. Not that I'd win a prize in a beauty contest, but c'mon. Did Tommy have a hand in this?!
Caught completely by surprise, my mind freezes as I try to decide what to do..............
Monday, December 6, 2010
4 Years to Think?
Unexpected, don't know, who's to say?
But, can't say, for the life of me, why?
Piper's music stops, forth, the pay,
With freedom's cease, tears roll from the eye.
Can weigh this or that, the answers don't exist,
Off the track, now, hard to replace what's lost,
Just another name, soon to be number for the list.
The judge rendered his sentence without pause.
"Do the crime, gotta do the time", oh how it galls,
Two months left in the embrace of a setting sun,
Before enclosure of barbed-wire and dank walls.
Would have to consider, interred quietly or run
No comic relief, but, it's funny in the end,
How tragedy could be dodged, choosing better friends.
But, can't say, for the life of me, why?
Piper's music stops, forth, the pay,
With freedom's cease, tears roll from the eye.
Can weigh this or that, the answers don't exist,
Off the track, now, hard to replace what's lost,
Just another name, soon to be number for the list.
The judge rendered his sentence without pause.
"Do the crime, gotta do the time", oh how it galls,
Two months left in the embrace of a setting sun,
Before enclosure of barbed-wire and dank walls.
Would have to consider, interred quietly or run
No comic relief, but, it's funny in the end,
How tragedy could be dodged, choosing better friends.
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