They sat together in the darkness. They watched the boy bathed in candle light, eyes wide, as his loved ones sang him the birthday song.
Somebody behind them coughed loudly and it took John out of the movie. Nancy was still transfixed, staring intently at the birthday party being projected on the dark screen in front of them.
Eventually the film was over and they began their long walk home.
"I know it's kind of silly but that whole birthday thing in the movie kind of put me in the mood to have a birthday. Isn't that weird?"
John laughed and said, "No, it makes sense. They made it look so fun".
They held hands and they started over the bridge. As they stood still for a moment and looked at the moon's reflection in the bay John had an idea.
"Let's have a birthday tonight"
"What?"
"Let's stop at the store and buy some cake mix and frosting and candles and balloons and have a birthday party for you in our apartment. We can invite Mr. Henderson from upstairs, he doesn't know what year it is let alone that it isn't your real birthday"
Nancy smiled and said "that's silly".
But as the walk home continued it began to sound better and better to them.
"Oh, fuck it. Let's do it. I really want to eat some cake".
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Ellen
She lives alone. A strong woman with broad shoulders. She doesn't work anymore. She lives off her deceased husband's life insurance policy. A widow, her name is Ellen.
Tonight Ellen is celebrating. She's sitting on her stoop drinking champagne from a coffee mug. In her hands she's holding a book. She turns it over in her rough hands. The cover is a muted pink with a drawing of birds across it. The title reads "The Monroe College Literary Journal". She turns to the the table of contents where she reads her name for the 12th time today.
What Goes Around Comes Around by Ellen Spencer.............pg. 31
She smiles and sighes. She holds the book to her stomach. A well dressed man walks past her.
"Hey, Mister! See this?" she says and she holds the book up to him.
"Excuse me?"
"See this right here? Ellen Spencer! That's me! I wrote that!"
The man scratched his head in confusion.
"Ok. Um...good. Good for you". He continues to walk on.
Ellen stands up and takes a deep breath before walking back inside. She pours herself some more champagne and turns on the television.
She puts down her book and focuses her attention on the tv. There's a show on about a group of young people. Teenagers. What catches her attention is a part where a young man throws his cell phone into a river. The boy screams "I hate you! I hate you!".
She imagines this playing out in the real world. The instant regret, the explanations to relatives or employers, the worry. In a flash she writes down the words "a story about a boy who throws his phone into the ocean" and puts the paper on her bulletin board. The sun is beginning to set outside and the street lights come on suddenly. The light shines into her kitchen window. She shuts the blinds and pours herself some more champagne.
Tonight Ellen is celebrating. She's sitting on her stoop drinking champagne from a coffee mug. In her hands she's holding a book. She turns it over in her rough hands. The cover is a muted pink with a drawing of birds across it. The title reads "The Monroe College Literary Journal". She turns to the the table of contents where she reads her name for the 12th time today.
What Goes Around Comes Around by Ellen Spencer.............pg. 31
She smiles and sighes. She holds the book to her stomach. A well dressed man walks past her.
"Hey, Mister! See this?" she says and she holds the book up to him.
"Excuse me?"
"See this right here? Ellen Spencer! That's me! I wrote that!"
The man scratched his head in confusion.
"Ok. Um...good. Good for you". He continues to walk on.
Ellen stands up and takes a deep breath before walking back inside. She pours herself some more champagne and turns on the television.
She puts down her book and focuses her attention on the tv. There's a show on about a group of young people. Teenagers. What catches her attention is a part where a young man throws his cell phone into a river. The boy screams "I hate you! I hate you!".
She imagines this playing out in the real world. The instant regret, the explanations to relatives or employers, the worry. In a flash she writes down the words "a story about a boy who throws his phone into the ocean" and puts the paper on her bulletin board. The sun is beginning to set outside and the street lights come on suddenly. The light shines into her kitchen window. She shuts the blinds and pours herself some more champagne.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
What Phil Sang Into Angie's Answering Machine on December 7th 1999
Come back to me.
Come back to me.
I can change.
I can do more push-ups, get a new name.
I can change.
I can get tattoos, start smoking cigarettes, learn to drive a motorcycle.
Whatever helps you love me.
Come back to me.
I could break all my bones and grow them right back but they'll long for you the same. That won't change.
You could cut out my heart and buy me a new one but it would still love you the same.
That wouldn't change.
You could take my tongue and rip it out and I would grow another one in its place but it would still speak your name.
That wouldn't change.
Come back to me.
I can change.
I can do more push-ups, get a new name.
I can change.
I can get tattoos, start smoking cigarettes, learn to drive a motorcycle.
Whatever helps you love me.
Come back to me.
I could break all my bones and grow them right back but they'll long for you the same. That won't change.
You could cut out my heart and buy me a new one but it would still love you the same.
That wouldn't change.
You could take my tongue and rip it out and I would grow another one in its place but it would still speak your name.
That wouldn't change.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
The Pale Blue Robe
She wore a faded blue robe. She stroked his hair as she walked past him.
"I'm going to take a shower, love"
"OK"
He read the newspaper intently.
To tease him she opened her robe and pressed her naked torso against his back.
He smirked and said "I know what you're doing".
She laughed and said "Is that so?"
"Save it for later, peach. I want to finish reading this. Take your shower"
She laughed at this.
"Ouch. I can take a hint"
She went on with her shower. She thought about him and how he had changed. She asked herself if she still really loved him.
In the kitchen he finished reading an article on a paralyzed man who was still a mathematical genius and could solve difficult equations mentally but couldn't physically express it. The only way the doctors knew he could do it was by monitoring his brain activity while they showed him math problems.
He wished he could read her brain waves like that, without having to talk. He had grown tired of listening to his own voice. She mistook this for him being tired of her but it wasn't the case. He still loved her just not himself. He took a deep breath when he heard the shower stop.
"I'm going to take a shower, love"
"OK"
He read the newspaper intently.
To tease him she opened her robe and pressed her naked torso against his back.
He smirked and said "I know what you're doing".
She laughed and said "Is that so?"
"Save it for later, peach. I want to finish reading this. Take your shower"
She laughed at this.
"Ouch. I can take a hint"
She went on with her shower. She thought about him and how he had changed. She asked herself if she still really loved him.
In the kitchen he finished reading an article on a paralyzed man who was still a mathematical genius and could solve difficult equations mentally but couldn't physically express it. The only way the doctors knew he could do it was by monitoring his brain activity while they showed him math problems.
He wished he could read her brain waves like that, without having to talk. He had grown tired of listening to his own voice. She mistook this for him being tired of her but it wasn't the case. He still loved her just not himself. He took a deep breath when he heard the shower stop.
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