An author's battle against procrastination.
“Why are we here,” Tyler asked.
“It’s therapeutic, honey.”
Tyler looked around the abandoned school grounds. The wear had shown and time wasn’t kind to the decrepit building of learning. Tyler stood holding himself together, hoping not to scrape against something sharp, deadly and would cost him a very expensive trip to the emergency room.
“Would you relax,” Toni asked, breaking Tyler’s concentration.
“This is as relaxed as you’re gonna get.”
“Good afternoon,” the older gentleman stranger said to the man with his back facing him. Before them lay forest as far as the eye could see.
The older silver-haired mustachioed gentleman name was Martin. Martin strode forward and looked down into the ravine. It was difficult to see the bottom. The other man stood facing outward in silence, not answering the older man. He could see a folded piece of paper with a name on it. Corey it read very neatly.
“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.
“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.
“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.
“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”
“These sweet potato fries are the best! Oh my goodness,” Jake said, carefully placing a small fry inside his mouth.
“Tell me about it,” Fran said as she stuffed a mouthful in her face. Her Brooklyn accent was present even as she chewed. Jake and Fran sat next to one another as they continuously grabbed more fries. Ofelia sat on the other side of the diner table in the side booth next to a large window. She carefully picked one and nibbled it. Jake and Fran paused for a moment while they chewed and looked at Ofelia, perched at the edge of her seat with a radiant, expectant smile.
“You gonna get in on this, or what,” Jake said with his mouth full of food.
“I already ate,” Ofelia said with a smile.
“Come on, O,” Fran said after swallowing. “It’s not often we’re all back at home like this. Let alone all of us at Vinny’s Diner.”
“Yeah. We always get sweet potato fries. Our favorite,” Jake chimes in.
“I’m not hungry,” Ofelia said with a quick shrug.
Fran and Jake looked at each other and shrugged before resuming their chow fest, remarking between chews and breaths on how delicious Vinny’s fries are. Occasionally, a puff of steam shot from their open mouths because it was right off the stove.
“So… notice anything different about me,” Ofelia said after a moment of silence and chewing.
“You look ridiculous, Tim,” Adam said.
“Oh, really? Have you seen yourself,” Tim asked sarcastically. “You look like a kid that couldn’t wait to dress himself after mommy gave him free rein to choose his identity.
“Dick,” Adam mumbled under his breath as he checked his clothes.
“Eh, you’ll get over it,” Tim said with a shrug. “This party looks lame.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“I’d prefer meeting someone then playing your stupid video games again,” Tim said, turning to him slowly. He held a pause to emphasize how serious he was through his sarcasm.
Jace Rockland 