FunHouse

“Baby, it’s time to get up,” Camille said.

“Okay,” Richie mumbled with his face buried in his pillow.

“Come on, sweet pea. You’re going to be late and I can’t drive you to school,” Camille returned to Richie’s doorway to say. After a few moments, she returned. “Richard, I am not feeling well and I don’t have time for this.” Camille peered into the darkness and saw something wasn’t right.  

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B.A.D.

Wednesday, Two-thousand something something…

I stare at myself through the reflection of a cracked mirror. This isn’t an allegory that I’m fractured. Please, this isn’t poetry. 

I can see my molars through the different shards as I yawn. Fillings. Metal. That’d be a bitch if if they cracked. I brush my teeth diligently ‘cause I don’t like implied future pain. And for the love of God, floss. There’s a broken brush in front of me. My hair is messy. Knotting. Now, this is optional. What a conundrum. Who am I brushing for? Me? The big  Man upstairs? I always wanted Rastafarian locks. 

“Alright Brian, what’s on the agenda today?”

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Road Block

“Wanna try Mexican,” Rachel asked Bryan. 

“I guess,” Bryan answered lazily, his head resting on the passenger side window. He observed the Arizona desert as it passed him by. The two cruised over the charred pavement. The air conditioner on max could barely keep them cool as the sun baked them inside.

Rachel turned to him with her hands still on the steering wheel. “What do you mean you guess? There’s nothing to eat for another fifty miles,” she said, waiting for a reply. 

“So why’d you ask me,” he asked, still staring at the rolling desert.

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Julia & Josh

“Nice of you to come back,” Julia said in the corner of the sun room with her arms crossed. “Where were you?”

“Seeing what was left of my kitchen,” Christian said, dragging a chair behind him. The day had worn him down and bags hung under his eyes. 

“Oh? You weren’t asking him his side of the story first,” Julia snapped. 

“Does it matter,” Christian asked lazily. 

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Josh & Julia

“Sit down and shut up,” Christian yelled after he threw Josh down into a wooden chair. Josh’s shoe hovered in the air as he tried to balance himself and get back up again. Christian pointed him down until he relaxed.

“Look, I gotta catch a flight,” Josh pled.

“I said shut up!”

“Am I under arrest, officer,” Josh asked snidely.

Christian side eyed him. “Ha ha,” he answered dryly. “Just relax, all right,” he said with a reassuring hand. Anita entered the room with a knitted frown. “Where is she,” Christian asked her.

“She’s in the sun room,” Anita answered. 

“I don’t need to be here,” Josh said, fixing his slightly burnt collared dress shirt.

“Josh, I’m not going to tell you again,” Christian said with his palm extended to silence him.

“I’m not the one who screwed up,” Josh said, smoothing his wet singed hair back.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t set fire to my kitchen,” Christian roared. “Now,” he said in a calmer tone. “I could press charges. I could call the police. But I’m not going to do that. I want one simple thing. I want you to tell me what happened.”  Continue reading “Josh & Julia”