Black Dove

Welcome to Fiction Friday, a little endeavor started by Jane the Sane, for more participants short stories click on her name. This story is based on the Tori Amos song Black Dove (January) and was a collaboration between Sassy and JimmyEatWorld. For those of you unfamiliar with the song, or Tori Amos, see the video below. I big fat bursty heart Tori Amos and have seen her in concert.



The image below was stolen from this guy and modified by Sassy to fit the story. Sorry random dude, but I am giving you credit.

It was a small room, dirty and sparsely furnished. The faded flowered paper that had once dressed this wall was now peeling from and falling like curls to the floor. There was an old iron bed covered by a tattered sheet yellowed from time. Beside it sat a table with a solitary lit candle burning with a small halo of light reaching weakly from the little flame and beside that table on the floor was a young girl in a blue dress curled into a tiny little ball. The blue dress stood out amidst the bleakness of the room.

This was a room that looked like it had been forgotten by the world and went to a place where things forgotten go. And with that room went the girl because she too had been forgotten. So forgotten in fact that she’d almost forgotten herself as well.

She laid there, curled on her side, her grey eyes wide and unseeing. Mechanically she traced her name in the dust of the floor. Over and over she moved her finger along each letter.

E-L-L-A

And as she traced, her lips would move almost imperceptibly. If you were to put your ear right to her mouth you might hear the faintest of whispers that sounded almost like a song.

I’m a January girl,
I never let on how insane it is
In this tiny kinda scary house…
By the woods
By the woods
By the woods

Father Father Father Father…help me.

Her eyes focused on a thread of light breaking through the dirt that covered the window. The beam cut a path through the dust and gloom and fell on the floor beside her. Her deadened eyes focused a moment and she looked around. She saw everything in grays and blacks, sometimes dark browns. The light broke up the dreariness of her surroundings with its brightness.

Close your eyes she said to herself, it isn’t real.

E-L-L-A, E-L-L-A, E-L-L-A she traced frantically.

Ella pulled her knees to her chest and shut her eyes tight against the light. She found the light fearsome and unfamiliar. The candle flickered and flickered, loosing its desire late in the evening and extinguishing itself. She willed herself to stand, occasionally shooting suspicious glances at the relentless beam of light. She stared at the bed until she found the courage to walk over and fall down on it. Then she covered her face with her trembling dirty hands, shaking her head softly trying to stop the spill of tears. She could feel herself cracking, her mind slowly losing the war to the crazy her mother promised would come. Out of the oppressive silence she heard a rumble and opened her eyes to see the light. The light, still breaking through the window, tore from her looming straight jacket.

As she regarded the beam almost indifferently something again nudged her toward it and she got up and looked through the window. What she saw was lights brightly shinning on the cold and dark house, illuminated the twisted trees hovering around the little shack she called home. There she saw something that made her feel different. It was a truck not unlike most others, white with more wheels than it needed and too much dirt to tell what kind, but it had a flag on it. The state flag of Texas waving in the wind with a slogan she didn't even care enough to read.

Texas… She thought. Then she thought of her father who was now living there. And in that instant she knew what she had to do. She had to run away. She had to get out of this crazy and ugliness that surrounded her and choked her life away. The sudden longing she felt for her father’s kindness and love was the first time she’d felt something other than despair in a long time and a warmth welled up inside of her. She stared out that window unsure of her own feelings. A new feeling began rising up in her and there, in that moment, she learned of hope and she leaned heavily on that thread.

"If you ever want to leave, look under the dresser, under the floor." She suddenly remembered her brother's cryptic secret from long ago. Her mind must have tucked that away and amid all the chaos, she had forgotten about it until just now. Ella walked, taking that thread of hope with her and anxiously moved the dresser. There she saw a board that looked slightly different than the others around it, it had her name etched into it and wasn’t flush with the rest of the floor . She stared at that board for what must have been only a few seconds but seemed like hours to her. As she stared she remembered Joshua who had left to live with their father. She thought about him looking at her seriously the last time she saw him, pulling her into a heartfelt hug and a whispering the secret before he walked out the door never to be seen by her eyes again. She missed him, he would have made this life bearable.

She had chosen to stay with her mother; at the time she felt so much closer to her. But that was so long ago, too many sleepless night to count. Ella had been the one to choose this life, she was at fault. Her mother couldn‘t help the downward spiral she plummeted into. Ella sunk to her knees and using the nail file she kept for protection, she forced it around the edges of the board worked it until she finally freed it from the floor. A note lay on top of a small pile; the note stood like a large golden key to her new life. Large black letters spoke the name only Joshua knew, Katia. In their childhood games she was Princess Katia of the Fey and he was the brave Prince Vladimir.

Sis,

I know that you love Mom and Dad very much and that this hurts you just as much as it hurts me. Please don't be mad at me for going with Dad, I can't choose between Mom and Dad but I have to stay somewhere. I've spent more time with Dad and I feel more connected to him, you know. I'm mad at him too, for what he did, what he did to our family. But I think that he might need me.

Always remember Katia that no matter what happens, I'll be there for you. Nothing can come between us. Nothing.
Here is $150 and a map of Texas with directions to Dad's on it. That should be enough money for a bus ticket and some food. Just get to the station in Lawrence however you can but BE CAREFUL!

Love,
Vladimir the Brave

Under the note and the money there was a compass. Not just any compass, but his compass. It was her Dad's childhood compass that he’d given to Joshua on his tenth birthday, telling him that this was a special gift that cannot be lost.

"Remember son, you can't lose this compass because if you do, how are you going to find it without any directions?" he would say with a wink and a pat on the back every time he found Joshua pulling it out of his pocket to check which way was north.

She remembered this exchange and her tears seemed to betray her. She had cried many many times before out of deep sadness but this was different. She wasn't sad at all. She felt joy and hope as she closed her hand around that old bronze compass. Her fist clenched it tight as tears hit the back of her hand; each one acting like another bead of hope to whisper to herself that things were going to be different. She turned it over and traced her fingers along the JRB, their initials. Them. She had to get to them. In that moment before she even realized she’d considered it, she decided to run away.

With sudden determination Ella took off the beautiful blue dress that her father had sent her for her last birthday, folded it very carefully, and placed it in a small sack. She put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt then slipped on the sneakers turned brown with the dust of the woods around her. She shoved the compass and money into her jeans and slung the bag over her shoulder. Then carefully she put the board securely in place and as quietly as she could she slid the dresser back into position.

Mother should still be sleeping. She won’t discover this. She whispered internally like a mantra as she summoned her courage to move to the window. She had once been Katia the Lioness, the Princess of All Being and now she had been beaten and belittled into a mouse. A frightened weak mouse.

She had never let on how insane it became in this little house by the woods. They would have come if she’d let on, but she was afraid and someone needed to make sure her mother ate and remembered to pay the bills. At first it hadn’t been too terrible, her mother was normal for the most part. The loving mother she knew even though she seemed prone to the occasional dark mood. But after awhile the pressure of life began weighing her mother and she began drinking, then the pills, then the men started coming. Ella pretended nothing had changed but as time passed she grew thinner and her grey eyes became increasingly hallow. Then the hitting started. Now when ever Ella was home she would hide in her room and hope her mother would forget her like the rest of the world had seemed to.

Finally, after painfully slow minute passed, she reached the dirty window and once again looked out. The truck was still there, it probably belonged to a man, one of those men. Ella could hear muffled voices coming from the other room, her mother was awake. She had to move fast. She lifted the window as silently as she could, just enough to get out. The voices grew louder, she heard her mother screaming something and a distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh. Then crying. Ella was also used to this, her mother’s men weren't the chivalrous type. But then she heard something that she should have expected, something she should have guessed would come for her eventually. Heavy footsteps tread toward her room, followed by the quicker softer ones of her mother.

“Leave her alone” Ella heard her mother yell. The knob rattled then the sound of scuffling just outside the door. Ella was frozen in fear, she knew an awful fate was outside that door trying to get in and now was her only chance to save herself a lifetime of misery. Finally it was her mother’s scream that woke her from her fear.

“Run Ella!” Her mother shrieked, still having some mother lion left in her after all. Ella hopped out the window quicker than she ever thought she could move and ran desperately toward the running vehicle. Thank god her daddy had taught her how to drive when she was 14.

Behind her Ella heard more screaming, a man swearing and her mother screamed for her to run again. Ella reached the truck, yanked open the door, slid in and locked all the doors just before the man began pounding his fists on the window. He had a rage in his eyes unlike anything Ella had ever seen and she knew now that if he got a hold of her he would kill her for sure.

She looked fearfully at her mother, “Mama,” She screamed tearfully at her. She was so afraid of leaving her mother alone with this man. At that moment her mother suddenly became the ghost of her former self. Her skinny haggard body rose up straight and her eyes shone with the light of the woman she had once been. The mother she had once been, Ella’s mama. She stood there calmly and full of an uncharacteristic long ago strength.

“Go baby. Its ok, go now.” She said, waving a slow sad kiss to Ella. Ella nodded grimly, and blew her mother a kiss back. With tears clouding her vision she floored the truck and peeled out of there, running over her tormentor's foot in the process. Ella prayed silently that it would keep him from killing her mother long enough for her to call the police from the pay-phone at the bus station. And with that thought of her mother she smiled a sad bittersweet smile because her mother had pushed her from the nest and set her free. That was the last act of her mother’s life and it redeemed everything.

to read more about Ella later in life, click here for Grey Sky Eyes


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Grey Sky Eyes

Today is Fiction Friday, for more FF participants go visit Jane the Sane.

This is a short story based on the lyrics of the song Grey Sky Eyes by Carbon Leaf. Another Sassy and JimmyEW collaboration.

Now for your listening pleasure see below for the full song, just created last night because Youtube only had stupid and/or poorly recorded versions. See how much I love you? Hit play and listen while you read.

I walked briskly down the cold, busy street so intent on my thoughts I didn't notice the business man on his cell phone, or the bike rider, or really any of the 10 people I bumped into that morning. I had lived this day a hundred times already but this time was different. This time I was living it outside of my mind.

As I got closer to the coffee shop, I picked my gaze up from the sidewalk and stopped to glance at my reflection. My dark hair was slightly longer than I was used to but the gel kept it in place and gave it a very tousled affect. That seemed to be the style and although I could care less what "the style" was, I did want to look good today. And I felt like I looked pretty good. My shirt, which was a muted blue, fit snugly over my slim build and the waitresses at my restaurant always told me I looked good in it. But would she think so? I peered closer; I could almost see the blue of my eyes in the reflection as they peered back at me.

"What are you doing?" I muttered quietly to myself. I pulled up the collar of my black pea coat to block the uncharacteristically cool wind as it whipped down the street. In Wisconsin this day would have seemed warm, but living in L.A. for five years had changed my ability to withstand cold. As I stood there thinking about the cold I lost my nerve. Shaking my head, I turned around and began walking back the way I'd come from. I was halfway down the block before I stopped abruptly. I stood there a moment, shaking my head then began pacing back and forth, unsure what to do. Finally I turned and walked back to the window.

I looked hard at my reflection in the darkened window and took a deep breath.
"I'm doing this. I'm not waiting any more, I'm sick of waiting." and with that I smiled a hopeful smile at myself and nodded my head determinedly.

My name is Jonah and I'm a poet, well..., actually I'm a chef, but in essence I am a poet. I see poetry everywhere. The dripping chocolate falling decadently over a piece of beautifully cut cheese cake, the buzzing glow of the street lamp, the curve of an arm...the curve of her arm specifically. I felt very unsure as I walked, until I thought of her. She was what I was very sure of.

I have written hundreds of poems about her over the years. And today IS the day. Today is the day I will tell her how I feel. But I don't know what will happen. You see, Katia, or Kat as I know her, is a star. She plays Ryver Stockholm in the Soap Opera Touchstone and although she has only been Ryver for a year, she has already been nominated for a couple of Daytime Emmys. And now the industry and tabloids have begun calling her the new Meg Ryan.

And I? I am Jonah Gosse, a sous chef, not even the chef but the second in command. Although I’d argue I do most of the work and all of the management of the kitchen. But none of that matters because I can't compete with the hulky leading men, big names, red carpet and Hollywood parties.

"I'm the guy next door," I said aloud, "I'm the guy who cooks your fillet mignon during the day and at night secretly writes poems about something he can never have." my voice trailed off in frustration.

"You fool! Why are you doing this, you've been over this before. YOU aren't enough. You can't compete with what she has, what she is." Anger started to take over my face like a slow spreading rash.

"Stop that.” I hissed at myself trying to contain the rush of negativity I was feeling.
“Do I really want to live the rest of my life not knowing? Do I want to spend the rest of my days writing poems that she will never read? Or do I want to take a chance, even a big chance and say that at least I tried.” I sighed heavily and clenched my jaw in determination. I am going to do this, even if we can't be friends anymore, even if it is the end of us, I am going to try.

With that last thought I walked off with a confident stride, towards the only thing I was sure of; that this woman, draped in mystery, held my love inside her.

But as I neared the end of the block I felt it come back, the uncertainty of my ability to give her everything she’s used to, everything her life had become since she'd left the restaurant. Those negative thoughts only lasted a few moments because I shook myself and began talking aloud. Valarie, my prep cook, had told me once that to stop unwanted streams of thought you needed to start talking out loud. Something about talking stopped the thoughts. So if there was ever a time that I needed the nagging doubts and fears to stop playing games in my head, it was now.

I shoved my iPod ear buds into my ears and switched on the music. Poignantly, the song that began playing was Walk Unafraid by REM. Suddenly Michael Stipe was there walking beside me for a moment, telling me to walk unafraid, to be clumsy instead. To hold my “love me or leave me” high. To crush this charade and shred this sad masquerade. It was just what I needed.

"Thanks Michael," I said with a smile and began talking aloud again, this time in a clear voice instead of a murmur.

"I know that isn't really her," I said assuredly, knowing this with more than my head.
"That glamour and glitz isn't who she is. Remember, I’m the only one that sees through it. I’m the only one she lets see her without her pretty happy mask on." As I spoke I didn't fret about what the people around me would think, they were the least of my concerns. And besides, the iPOD gave a buffer as well as the illusion I may be on a cell. So I continued on with my monologue, holding with what Valarie said, only now I began talking to her. I imagined looking at her pale face with her light grey eyes staring widely back at me. Her long black hair parted down the center and falling softly down her shoulders. I loved her long hair, how sometimes she'd put random little braids in it or tied it into a knot to keep it out of her way. Not many women had hair that long anymore. I imagined what I would say to her if she was with me at this very moment.

"Kat, look at me for a moment. I mean, really look at me. You see me here; I'm standing here in front of you because I can't live this lie any longer. I can't hide it anymore. Kat, you and I...there is something about us that is different. I feel it and I know that you feel it to. I see it in your eyes when you let yourself out. I see something in there when I hold you. That night, the night in the rain after your audition for Touchstone. That night for a moment your veil lifted and you let me in. You let the fear flow out of you in great wet tears and you wept on my shoulder. You were worried about getting my shirt messy and I laughed at you because I was already dripping wet. Do you remember sitting in my apartment afterwards? You were wearing my bathrobe while your clothes were in the dryer and sipping on hot chocolate. Do you remember the hours we spent just talking that night? You let me in, you told me how afraid you were of disappearing and how you went into acting as a way to hide yourself. That contradiction confused and unnerved you.

You never told me why you hide, but I can see the sadness in your eyes. They reminded me of clouds moving over a blue sky just before a rain. I so desperately wanted to make the sun break through, to see them glow."

As I stopped talking, to listen to the music unfold, I began living that night again in my head. Before that moment in the rain we were just two people working at the same place. We'd laugh and joke around occasionally but nothing more than a casual acquaintance. I worked in the back and she was the hot waitress/actress, like most waiters and waitresses in LA. Most of them never stopped being a waitress, hitting it big was so rare and a dream of so many there. Dreams are what brought people out here in the first place. Some did make it though, like Kat. It was like she really was there to briefly grace my world with her radiance before becoming a real star.

I used to watch her from afar, hovering at the kitchen door, and just observe her curiously. She'd smile and laugh with customers, charm the tips right out from under them. But when she thought no one was watching her and she was alone I would see her change. It was like watching rough water suddenly calm into a silent lull, her smiles falling off her face leaving a quiet stillness that seemed infinitely sad. I had watched this happen a few times, always unobserved from the kitchen, but I saw it clearly as if she were right in front of me saying, "That isn't me! I don't know who that is." I felt deep inside that this was what I was seeing, so when she broke down in the rain one night after my shift she only had confirmed what I felt I already knew. I took my coat off and slung it around her shoulders and walked her the three blocks to my apartment.

That night is when all her hopes and fears came spilling out of her. She cried about how broken she felt and how much effort she exerted to keep her veil up. She never told me what broke her but it didn’t matter to me. After her heartfelt confession I saw a lightness come into her and a smile returned but this one was different because it shone in her eyes as well.

After that night we shared, we really became as close as two friends could become. And always, when we were together she’d arrive and the façade would slip away and she would stand there before me naked in her realness. And I grew to love this girl, this quivering woman who stood before most people as a butterfly but showed me that she really had just built her cocoon to hide in; never intending to emerge from it.

Then, inevitably, she started getting more popular. Touchstone began writing more story lines for her and the busier she got the less I saw her. Her schedule became so demanding that she had to quit the restaurant and although I was happy for her I was sorry to lose that closeness I was used to. She would still call and talk to me whenever she had a spare moment, but our schedules never seemed to work out and now it has been far too long since I’d seen her last.

As I walked up to the coffee shop, I could see Kat through the large bay windows. Some caffeinated fans were getting their pictures taken with her.

And there it was. That beautiful smile of hers. She seemed to glow, just glow whenever it came out. It showed off her perfect white teeth, made her eyes sparkle, and turned her into a star. Now I'm no casting director, but I've got to imagine when you see this beautiful woman smiling like that. Like you could actually feel her smile - well, I'd pick her to be the next big thing too.

I waited for the impromptu fan club to dismiss before walking up to her. Part of me still wanting to avoid this conversation but another part told me that the right moment would not be amidst drooling fans either.

I weaved my way through the dispersing admirers and stopped just in front of her. I went to take her hand and she pulled me in for a big hug.
"Wow, how long has it been, Jonah?" she asked reminiscently.
"Almost six months" I said as a matter of fact. "Your waitress retirement party, remember?" I chuckled.

"Oh, yeah...The official end of my screwing up people's dinner and spilling their drinks party, how could I forget?" she laughed.

"So, what's on your mind, Jonah?" Kat asked in that concerned tone of hers.

I sat down beside her on the couch in the now quiet corner and gathered up every ounce of bravery. Then I started speaking.

"Do you know the movie Groundhogs Day?" I asked her with a sly grin.

"The Bill Murray movie? Yes, I love that movie." Kat responded.

"This is the end of my groundhogs day." I said, knowing this is not exactly how I practiced this but going with what first came to mind.
"See, in the movie he relives the same day over and over but you never quite know if its punishment or a gift or maybe just a hiccup in his life." I stated as if a metaphor was going to make this easier.

"I have relived this day over and over in my head ever since that first night we spent together. That night was like the most real and tangible night of my life. Just sharing thoughts and feelings and knowing I was talking to the real you, the real Kat. Not the one who wears that big beautiful smile all the time, just Kat with no mask.”
I waited for a response from her, for any response. She just looked at me waiting patiently for me to continue. But I saw her face change, her mask slipped a little and she became very serious.

"You see, Kat, there’s something to us. There is something here," I said moving my hand between us like a line. "I used to watch you working, I would see you and I was never enamored like the rest of them. I never cared about your beauty because when I looked in your eyes all I saw was you, not your facade. Kat, I can't compete with your world but you know what? I don't want to. I want to be something real to you, something you can see and touch and believe in. Because Kat, I love you and if I don't do something about it right now, then I might as well just give up on everything. Because in the end of it all, in the end of everything. This is all that matters. Us, people, love, lives and everything that comes with it.” I looked down at my hands for a moment, wondering if I should say more or if I should get up and run for it. I decided I had come this far, I might as well say all I had to say.

“Kat, I don't care if we have only one day together because at least I will get to live that day with you, outside my head. Kat, this is it. This is a chance to be truly happy, what do you say? Do you want to jump with me? Because I'm ready to jump, in fact I just did, but I hope you'll be holding my hand so I can fly instead of fall." I stopped abruptly looking into her eyes, every second feeling like I was underwater. The pressure of the silence was suffocating me. But I waited, waited for a response and what I got wasn't spoken with words but was silent vulnerability.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears as she struggled with what to say. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came. Still, I waited for her to speak, knowing she would when she knew what to say.

"I'm afraid," She said in a trembling whisper. A silent tear slid slowly and gracefully down her cheek.

I took her small hands into mine. Her fingers were thin and cold and I rubbed them between my hands to warm them. I leaned close and looked hard into her eyes before speaking.
"Listen to your heart, Kat. What would you do if you weren't afraid?" I whispered back to her.

Kat nodded her head thoughtfully and, as she nodded, a smile broke through but this smile was an unpolished smile, her real smile.
"I am no great thing." She said to me in warning. "Me, I'm just a person and I'm not special. My eyes neither rain nor they glow, they are just me. I am just Katia." She said with more tears coming to the surface.

I touched her face softly, wiping away her tears with the back of my hand. Then I smiled widely.

"Kat, that’s just it. You are who I'm in love with. You right here with me now. None of that other stuff. This is it Kat, this is us."
Kat nodded happily, her breath catching in small heaving gasps as she tried not to weep. But her efforts were to no avail and she collapsed with great racking sobs. I pulled her to me, smelling her hair and reveling in the feel of her in my arms again. It had been a long time since I'd touched her, let alone hold her close.

“I never.. I never thought anyone could ever care about me till you Jonah. Never me, for me. You made me hope and hope made me afraid.” she stopped speaking then and leaned into me crying softly.

"What do you say Kat," I whispered softly into her ear.
Indistinguishably Kat's sobbing became made of both tears and musical laughter. She pressed into me, her body shaking with the strength of her emotions and said in her musical laughing voice
"yes, yes, yes. For a lifetime, for a year for how ever long we have in this world, yes."

And at that moment, we flew.


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Almost Roadkill

A creative endeavor by JimmyEatWorld and Sister Sassy. Based on yet another true story.

As the car drove down the highway, the monotony of the road and trees and yes, more trees, started to get under my skin. I glanced over at Jimmy sitting in the drivers seat. He always liked road trips; it was a time for him to relax and think.

Jimmy was checking his side mirror when I started nibbling on his neck. "Hey...I'm driving here" he protested.

"I know. I'm bored and want to play a little," I whined.

"Why don't you get the latest Sookie Stakehouse book and read to me," he suggested.
I stuck my lip out but unbuckled my seat belt and leaned into the back seat to find Club Dead, the book we were reading together. I plopped back down but before I put my belt back on I leaned in for a big kiss.

"I miss you, I haven't seen you all week," I purred.

"Fine, just don't surprise me when we are doing 75 and passing a caravan of semi-trucks" Jimmy said with a much sweeter tone. I had just started to plant little kisses on Jimmy's cheek when the car suddenly swerved to avoid a large pothole. My arm that was holding my weight up slipped and I fell forward into Jimmy's seat.

"I didn't know you were that bored," Jimmy said with a teasing tone. My head had landed right in his lap.

My head popped up, however most of my body was still sprawled across the seats. Looking up out the drivers side window I saw a nasty looking truck driver leering at me and smiling knowingly.

"No!" I said shaking my head emphatically, knowing what the dirty truck driver's mind had imagined. In High School a friend of mine had thought it was cool to have a CB radio and we’d inadvertently find ourselves chatting up truckers. My handle had been Brownie, a name I'd been given by Sister Big's husband when I was still a little girl. This was in the time before cell phone craze and man, those truck drivers had some dirty mouths! I had even asked one if they had special classes on talking dirty at Truck Driving school.

"What is it?" JimmyEW asked, looking at me oddly as I made shooing motions with my hand.

"That Burly truck driver's mind is in the gutter. Lets get away from him, I don't like him looking over here."

"What ever you say, babe" Jimmy said not questioning me any further. He was great that way, would listen and comply with my request without too much fuss.

He sped up, passed a few cars and changed lanes, then slowed to normal speed. But no sooner had I started to snuggle back against my Jimmy when he started to mutter something under his breath.

"What is it baby?" I asked him closing my eyes and sighing.

"It's Burly, he's back next to us. I can't shake him" Jimmy said looking miffed.

I glanced through Jimmy's window up at Burly who took advantage of my gaze and made obscene suggestive motions at me. I gasped, outraged, and made an obscene gesture of my own.

"Dude, why'd you flip him the bird?" Jimmy asked dismayed.

"Well, he was being... gross" I said defensively.

"Don't you know that a middle finger to a truck driving is like waving a red flag at a bull?" He grumbled back.

"Aren't bulls color blind?" I asked, off topic and trying to stay there. But Burly began honking and shaking his fist at us so it was impossible to distract Jimmy.

"Maybe we should take that exit." he said motioning toward the sign advertising a nearby gas station. I slumped in my seat and tried to ignore the menacing truck driver.

"I've got a plan, just watch." Jimmy said with a smirk spreading across his face. Jimmy sped up and right on cue so did the Burly trucker following them.

"Here we go," Jimmy said hoping this would work and not get them in more trouble. The exit was now in sight and Jimmy let off the gas completely. Burly was getting closer and closer.

"He's right next to us now. He's looking at us again and gesturing. DO SOMETHING!" I pleaded.

"Here it comes!" Jimmy said as he jerked the car off into the exit at the last second. Burly was left in the wrong lane AND too late to follow them. "HA!!!" Jimmy exclaimed. Jimmy was reveling in how well his ill-formed plan went, he was already recounting the play-by-play to me. I on the other hand had tuned him out and was looking at him with a blank look.

"You aren't listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" Jimmy asked with a crabby tone.

"STOP!!!" I screamed. At the end of the long exit was a stop sign that Jimmy hadn't seen as he was too wrapped up in his story telling. Jimmy slammed on the brakes. And we both lunged forward in the car, Jimmy knew that I hadn't yet put my seat belt on. He reached across before hitting the brakes and was able to use his strength to stop me from hitting the dash.

"I'm so sorry. Are you ok?" Jimmy asked. Somehow in the chaos of stopping and near miss of a massive head injury, I had found myself again sprawled across the seat. However, this time my head was under the seat near Jimmy's knees.

“Just a little shell shocked” I said shaken. As I got back in my seat, Jimmy looked around to see which way the gas station was. As he turned he saw a large semi-truck in a car pool parking lot. Just then, the trucker driver honked his horn and started making obscene gestures.

“Buckle that seat belt woman, we gotta go!" Jimmy said as the tires screeched.

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In The Blogosphere No One Can Hear You Scream

This is a cross submission for Fiction Friday and on Ghostwriters Haunt. For more Fiction Friday go to Jane the Sane for a list of participants. To learn more about Ghostwriters Haunt just keep reading.

Something began to happened to me recently, it was slow at first but gradually it began to take over my life. It caused stiffness in the back, cramping in my arms, tired watery eyes and sometimes it even kept me awake at night. What did this to me? I did this to me, I am a new blogger. I started blogging mostly out of boredom and the need to do something with my time while I was out on a doctor mandated medical leave.

My job as entry level stock broker had turned me into a coffee guzzling, Red Bull Drinking, heart palpitating stress ball. Finally when I went to the doctor complaining about the awful blinding headaches I kept having he took my blood pressure and was ready to prescribe me some prazosin for it. That freaked me out. My dad, who was like super old, was on that medication. I was only 26! I asked my doctor what else I could do and he gave me a look. You know the look, the one that says I already know the answer to that question. And yes I did know the answer and I had been happily ignoring it for some time. I’d been to him a few times before with this problem or that and each time I ended up crying about how stressed I was at work.

“Lilly,” he said gently, “If you want to survive your life you need to start taking these meds, but if you want to live your life you’ll need to find a new job.” sigh… he had to say it that way didn’t he? He was right, I knew it deep down but I didn’t want to admit I had been wrong. Wrong about my life, about my career about all the years I’d spent in school. I wasn’t quite ready to listen to him.

“Can you just order me to take a break or something? Just so I can think about what you said?” I asked hopefully. My company had awesome benefits and if I went on doctor ordered medical leave I’d get 50% of my pay for 4 weeks. That should be enough time for me to figure out what I needed to do.

Dr. Martin, who I knew didn’t wear Doc Martins because I had asked when I first started seeing him three years ago, gave me another look. He was about 10 years older than I and was graying at the temples. That gave him a very distinguished look. He had dark hazel eyes that made you feel like you were gazing at stones below the surface of a pool. They were beautiful. I think on some level every girl has a crush on her doctor if he’s even slightly attractive and since he’s not married I felt like it was ok for me to drool just a little bit.

“Pleeeeease” I begged girlishly. He smiled and shook his head at me in feigned exasperation.

“Ok Lilly, but only because I believe that your health depends on you quitting that job and I think having a few weeks off will prove that to you.” He said this while scribbling something on his RX pad.

“Thank you,” I’d said gushing at him and snatching my Get Out of Jail Free card…or note from his hand, “You always know how to make me feel better.”

I marched joyfully out of his office and had taken a cab right to the HR department at Rosencrantz, Morgans & Stern, filled out all the required paperwork while trying my best to seem dejected and sullen then went home for a very long much needed nap.

That had been two weeks ago.

To be continued....

You just finished the beginning of the first progressive story for Ghostwriters Haunt. Ghostwriters Haunt is a new collaboration between me and some bloggy friends to create a blog/website for aspiring, yet shy, writers so they can write and post their work under an alias. We also work together group writing a story that we "pass around" as well as post our own individual creative work. The Blogosphere is our first progressive story and you can read the other parts if you click the Jane Doe Writers Icon on the right sidebar of this blog.

With GWH you can become a contributing member very easily. We offer a group author named Jane Doe Writers that we'll give you access to or you can set up your own pen name. Which ever makes you happy :). And I know it says "Jane Doe" but if you are a "John Doe" I will create a special John Doe Writers icon for you to stick on your page.

So go take a gander at Ghostwriters Haunt and see what you think.

(And now a quick poem courtesy of JimmyEW)

Binary Dreams

Late at night, the world tucked away

And I find no solace in that

so I turn my only friend ON

Blinking

on

off

on

off

on

off

It's steady heart beat

asking, no, demanding a response

And I submit to its will

until the buzz in my veins fades into sleep.

.............................................................................................

(oh, and for Frumpy Friday scroll on up to the top)

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Almost Chili

This is a quick little story about something that happened to JimmyEatWorld and I last October. i hope you find it amusing (and don't worry, fight the frump is here today too).

Jimmy and Sassy pulled up to the beach at dusk, eager to unload and start their adventure. Moving down the trail their way was lit by two far off beams of light. They squinted as a vehicle drew nearer. A van that Montel Williams always warns women about, you know the kind, non descript white, with darkened windows.

"What is he doing here? And why is there a boat on the roof" Sassy asked shivering in the cold dusky night and looking off toward the roughly rocking waves. The driver opened the door and they got their first glimpse; A loaner, with a beard and a hunger burning in his eyes.
"He's probably just coming to watch the sunset" Jimmy said assuredly.
"OH NO..., he wants chili" she spoke as if it made perfect sense... and knowing Jimmy understood the implications in the statement; meaning simply this: THEY were the chili.

"What - chili - no way" Jimmy answered. "First of all, I'm way too dry and stringy for chili and besides chili takes too long for a cannibal. They want their meat faster" he said, more assuring himself than her.

"No Jimmy" Sassy said as if talking to a three year old who was just learning some fact of life everyone knew. "It's always about chili. True, you are skinny but they'd try to fatten you up. Me... they'd probably eat me right away. "

Jimmy glared at Sassy's implied body insult and began wondering 'if he was kept captive and force fed would he eventually get fatter?' Jimmy suddenly realized that they had spent way too much time looking at the potential chili maker and became very uncomfortable. "Do you think he knows that we know that we are going to be made into chili? Should we run now or later?"

The bearded man reached into his van and Sassy gasped expecting to see a bloody hatchet to appear in his hand. However she was pleasantly surprised to see a camera. "See he just wants to take pictures of the beach" Jimmy said sounding relieved.

Sassy pondered this, then, even though she was certain it would cause a bit of panic for Jimmy she whispered "He probably gets off on taking pictures of his victims first. He probably puts them on the menu. He'll get our wallets so he has our names and we'll be forever known as the The Sassys Saturday Night Special. Our fingers floating in the chili..." Sassy shuddered disgusted this guy would put her face in his evening menu.

"Menu... Do you really think cannibals are so organized that them make menus first? So one minute their sawing through my femur and the next they are going into Photoshop and scanning pictures" Jimmy asked this mostly to distract himself.
"Well...actually," Sassy started to respond "I think that while we are stewing.."
"Ok, ok" Jimmy interrupted. "What are our weapons? And stop looking at him, he can't know that we know."

Sassy forced her eyes forward as they walked down the trail and started placing all their things on a flat area not too far from the water. Jimmy fell to his knees and began digging.
"...Jimmy, they're cannibals, they aren't going to burry us" she said refraining from adding 'Duh'.

Jimmy rolled his eyes at her. "This hole is for our fire, you git. Now WEAPONS woman, we need to know our weapons" he whispered fiercely.
"Fire...whatever. Are you trying to make it easier for him to cook us!?" Sassy asked in disbelief. "Oh never mind, we have the umbrella, the cooking fork thing...he could probably use that to poke us to see if we're done" she muttered the last part under her breath. "And I suppose we could swing these logs...that's about it"

"First of all, I'm going to pretend like I can't get the fire started" Jimmy forced through clenched teeth." "You mean like last time?" Sassy responded before Jimmy could even begin his next point. After a short pause "Yes. exactly like last time. We are going to pretend like I can't get the fire started. Actually, just like the time when I pretended to run out of gas behind Magilla's Carpet - as an excuse to make out with you" Jimmy said with a smirk spreading across his lips. He knew Sassy always thought fondly of that time they were snogging as she was taking pity on Jimmy for his big blunder on their first date.

Surprisingly Jimmy got a toasty fire roaring in a manner of minutes. Sassy knew that was mostly from her lessons on fire starting during their last beach outing a few weeks ago. As much as Jimmy wanted to think fire starting began with certain boy parts and certain girl parts in close proximity, it did not.

Sassy plopped down on to the blanket and began impaling hot dogs onto the dead tree branches for roasting.
"I doubt they'd cook us in an open fire anyway" she said while sliding another hot dog onto a branch. "they probably have some sort of safe food handling practices...do you think at their chili restaurant they post those 'Employees Must Wash Hands' signs?" Sassy chewed on her lip while pondering that for a moment.

"Yeah, right next to the sign that says "no biting fingernails-of the chili" Jimmy said thick with sarcasm. "Ok, so here's the plan." now being much more serious, "First we need to distract him or create a diversion. How about you flash him and while he is stunned I'll get behind him and swing that big log at him"

"Whatever you say baby" Sassy said pulling of her sweater coat, then pulling the wonder woman sweater shirt over her head, then shrugging off her black cardigan, then finally standing there in only her thin olive green shirt.
Goose bumps covered Sassy's arms as she stood in the 30 degree windy night shivering.
"Who's idea was this again?" she asked suspiciously when she realized that Jimmy was staring at her with a trail of spittle hanging from his mouth.

"Ok, you can stop staring Jimmy, that guy isn't interested. So what's Plan B?" Sassy asked as she put the three layers of clothing back on.
"mmmm how about.... Oh, wait, he's going towards the van. Quick, give me the fork, take the keys and as soon as he comes back I want you to run for the car" Jimmy said hurriedly.

"So first I'm bait and now you want me to be the chicken? No way, now give me back the fork" Sassy said with absolute conviction as she pulled it from Jimmy's hands. "Hey...wait he's starting the car. He must need to get the motor going first in order to get all of his chili making equipment running. I bet if we were to cut the wires we could stop him cold" Jimmy said trying to wrestle the keys away from the giggling Sassy.

"Wires, what wires are you talking about MacGyver? You wouldn't know which ones are which? Remember that time you poured windshield washer fluid-" Sassy said before being interrupted.

"Now the van's moving. But where's he going?" Jimmy asked unsure of this new twist.

Sassy and Jimmy watched in amazement as the white van pulled from its parking spot and disappeared down the long winding road.

"That's it? Are you kidding me?!" Sassy said incredulously, "He didn't want to eat us? I can't believe he didn't want to eat us! He didn't even try or anything."

"He could have at least tried," Jimmy said looking downcast, "Not that I wanted to be eaten or anything, but...do you think he didn't want me because I'm too skinny?"

"NO! Jimmy, how could you think that? You'd make a wonderful pot of chili! If I were a cannibal I eat you in a second" Sassy said resolutely.
A shy smile spread across Jimmy's lips as he beamed at his love.

"You always know what to say to make me feel better. Now lets eat, all this talk of chili is making me hungry"

Now...that didn't REALLY happen although we did joke about the guy being a potential cannibal that wanted to turn us into chili. But this is just the first installment of Fiction Friday, a GREAT fun idea started by Jane the Sane. Jimmy and I actually both wrote this together, passing it back and forth. We consider it spending "quality time" together and found it a lot of fun! For more Tall Tales visit her blog for a list of the participants.

AND NOW for FIGHT THE FRUMP WITH FUSSY- Scroll on down!
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