Some Stuff I Wrote

TGIMFF Everybody!

SO this has been a busy week for the ol' Box of Words, now I've got two little things I wrote (a short story and a poem) that I would appreciate some feedback on. (By the by, that's "Thank God It's Mutha Fuckin' Friday!")

Here's a poem I had to write for a prompt. I had to take a news article and poeticize it. Rather than comb the Richmond local news for another mugging, murder, or misdemeanor, I went with this:

“Shooting in Savannah”

Seven shots rang out
In the steaming Georgia sun.
A credit to Southern hospitality;
The victims aided by everyone.

The shooter’s motives were unclear;
He and his 9mm were never charged.
But his jacket flapped in the Summer wind.
Why the hell are you wearing a jacket
In Summer?

A Krispy Kreme truck
Waylayed by violence.
A “Hot Now” candlelit vigil
Went on in silence.

“Three… no, four doughnuts were hit.”
Are you fucking serious?
This is a sad, sad day
In the history
Of Savannah.

A cute little poem about a true little story from Savannah's local news stations. Frightening.

And here's a short story I'm working on, not in my usual style, but I can't figure out how to end the damn thing. I have some ideas in mind, and part of me wants to cut it off early, but here it is:

It was warm on a late October afternoon when Caroline hit 90 miles per hour on the interstate that she realized, oh my God, I’m in love with my best friend’s fiance!

It wasn’t like she hadn’t known the attraction was there, of course. She had her eye on Chris ever since Alisha started sleeping with him three years ago to the month. The way that his smile left that one awkward dimple on his left cheek always made it look like he was smirking in her direction. Alisha could do better, I mean, who couldn’t? His hair always looked like he rolled out of bed and then spat in it to keep the cowlicks down, even though he swore he combed it compulsively.

Yet here she was, speeding out of the city on the way to Chris and Alisha’s house - yes, they live together now - prompted by a phone call from Chris, suggesting that they “ought to sit down for a chat.”

Caroline was ready. She was ready to spill her guts to him whether he wanted it or not. She’d say things like, “God, how could she do that to you? After all these years?” or maybe, “You know I’d never do that to any guy!” But she was jumping the gun. I don’t know that this is about Alisha…

She whizzed past all the big SUVs in her tiny blue Honda, fiddling with the volume on her CD player. When All is Said and Done came on. Last song of the album. She listened intently to the lyrics for a moment,

Only love is on the page, when your days are oveeer!

Only love is on the page, when you’re six feet undeeer!

Only looove is…

She was only thirty-three. I’m still young dammit! She pressed her finger to her eyebrow, first out of stress, then because it occurred to her, did I pluck these today? Her attention was off the road and off the song while she twisted the rear-view and examined her face. No supermodel, but what could I do now? Caroline felt stupid for thinking Chris was her last shot at happiness. She slapped the mirror and spied a state trooper to her left.

Thank God! She’d slowed down to 70.

It wasn’t fair. She’d been a good friend. When Alisha crashed at her apartment that weekend in tears when Chris was away to see the big game. “It was a one time thing! I swear I still love him!” Caroline kept the secret, if not for Alisha then for Chris. He’d been burned before and who knows how he would have reacted?

Besides, Chris and Caroline Abilene sounds so much better than Chris and Alisha Abilene! She pursed her thin pink lips and then stretched them out against her teeth. All this practicing for the passionate kiss she was going to plant on him - whether he wanted it or not - and she almost missed the exit! She braked sharply and merged over onto the exit ramp.

Just two more blocks. All of her rehearsing and planning gave way to her stomach swimming and the trembling in her hands. She pulled up to the perfect little driveway on the perfect little cul de sac and parked in front of the mailbox with the calligraphy “The Abilenes” on the side. Alisha had her make it for Chris’s birthday last year.

Caroline nearly ran to the front door, but caught herself and thought, way too dramatic. Chris was already waiting with the door open and the screen unlocked for her. She let herself in.

He sat at the kitchen table to the left once she got inside with his elbow on the table and his forehead in his palm. There was a Superman’s Pal: Jimmy Olsen comic open on the table in front of him. What a dork.

“Hey you.” She said.

“Hi. I saw you pull up.” He didn’t look up at her.

She walked in, cautiously took the seat across from him and put her hand on his. “What’s wrong hon?”

“Nothing I guess.” He slapped the comic shut. “I dunno why I even called…” He stood up and walked toward the antique-looking white plastic coffee-maker.

“Well,” Caroline put her elbows on the table. She pressed her now free hand to her face, cuticles first. It smelled like smoke. Chris must’ve fallen off that wagon, “you called because you needed a friend. Here I am. Talk.”

Chris didn’t say anything. He took his New York Giants mug out of the cabinet, poured some coffee and sat back down.

“Look, you can tell me anything. I’ve known you just as long as Alisha.” Stupid! Let him bring her up!

“I know, I know.” He poured a bit of suger into his mug, followed by a spoonful of the stick butter that sat out on the table. Why does he think that tastes good? “It’s just that you and Ali are friends too, you know? Some stuff I just can’t say.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“Just lonely I guess.” He took a sip. “Ali is out of town visiting a friend in Charlotte. This place is nice, but it’s not like when I lived in the city and I could just go out and hang with people.”

Caroline faked a laugh. “Well, hanging out is what I do!” Awkward. “You got a cup of that for me, too?”

“Oh geez!” He got up quickly and smiled his big goofy smile. “Sorry! You want creamer? Ali buys the stuff but you know me.”

“Please.”

Chris prepared the cuppa. Just the way I like it.

Caroline picked up the comic while he sat down. “So why Jimmy Olsen? I thought Superman was the hero?”

“Ha, yeah. I like Jimmy. He’s like me sorta.”

“You don’t think you’re Superman?”

He winced. “No way.”

Caroline sips her coffee. “Why did you really call me?”

“Can you keep a secret?” His eyes meet hers, but only for a moment.

If you only knew. “Of course, dear.”

“Well, I may or may not have cheated on Alisha this weekend…” He hung his head down watched swirls form in his coffee.

Oh my! she thought, but what she said was, “Go on.”

“I just… I feel like I should tell her, but I dunno.”

“Do you think she’d tell you if she had done the same?” He’s mine.

“I’d like to think she would--”

“But you don’t--”

“I think she knows me well enough to know how much something like that would hurt to find out. For me, at least”

Caroline set the comic back on the table.

Thanks if you're reading me. Have a good weekend.

-Steve