Sleepytime

This is what I felt like doing all day today. Being sick sucks.

Random (one of many)

"Clarkson, Parkson," her mother rhymed. "Park son, park daughter." - Sybil, by Flora Rita Schreiber

Today...

It's just one of those days. One of those days when you just seem to float from here to there without really thinking about where you are going; yet you get where you need to go. My nose is running. My head is congested and painful. Tea is warming. Gypsy Cold Care.... Tomorrow is another day. Hopefully I'll feel better.

Darkness and Dawn

Here's a short story I wrote for the Writer's Journal "Write to Win" contest. The contest rules were simple: write a story (fiction or nonfiction) that is 1500 words or less and uses a selected starter phrase. The starter phrase this time was "Those ungrateful..."
So, without further ado, Darkness and Dawn...

“Those ungrateful ruffians!” shouted the aged man sitting at the counter, “I ought to teach them a lesson!”
“Don’t worry about it, Paul. I’ll cover their tab,” said the waitress as she cleared their plates. She sighed as she watched the three teens dash out the door and into the night.
“You can’t afford to let every lousy teenager in the city eat for free. Look at this place,” said Paul as he pointed to the rest of the diner, “It’s falling apart!”
Claire gazed around the room. She felt surrounded by the disrepair that had befallen her diner: Tables cracking, paint peeling, water stains on the ceiling, chairs with uneven legs and broken seats, and dust and cobwebs covering every surface. She could hear the leaky sink dripping from the dining room. Thinking of the diner made her feel depressed.
“I know that. Do you think I don’t notice how run down this place has gotten? Just yesterday the sink in the kitchen stopped working. I went to unclog the pipes and they were rusted so much they almost crumbled in my fingers!”
She sighed and rested her head on her folded arms. Her crumpled body heaved with despair.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do…”
“Cheer up, Claire. It’s not completely hopeless. We just have to face the facts. All the old customers have moved on. I think it’s time that we did, too.”
Paul leaned back in his chair and began flicking his lighter. On, off. On, off. Since he had given up smoking it had become a nervous habit. He tilted his chair back onto two legs and began to rock it back and forth, in harmony with the flicking of his lighter. His eyes began to widen as he stared into the flame of the lighter. Claire recognized that look immediately.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing…” he mused, smirking.
“I know better than that; you’re coming up with another hair-brained scheme.”
“But…”
“No. Whatever your idea is, I don’t like the sound of it.”
Claire returned to the kitchen to wash the rest of the dishes. As she submerged her hands in the warm water, she became consumed in thoughts of the future. Things are sure looking grim. Maybe Paul was right, she thought; We should move on. It has been almost 35 years after all. Besides, the neighbors are starting to get a little suspicious.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know what I was thinking?” asked Paul.
Claire put down the dish and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. It’s worth listening at least, she thought.
“Ok, then. What were you thinking?” she said, taking a seat across the counter from Paul.
He hastily stood up and straightened his jacket, brushing off pie crust crumbs and other food remnants. She could see how his eyes seemed to glow like his lighter flame had just moments before.
“Do you remember that movie we saw a week ago?” he asked.
Claire was confused. “‘Vampire Holocaust’? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Ah, yes. ‘Vampire Holocaust’. That movie made our kind seem like such uncivilized monsters, didn’t it…?”
“Your point is…?”
“The movie took place in Alaska. They have a whole month of darkness every year!”
“You believe that? How could a place have a whole month of darkness? It can’t be true!”
“It is! I looked it up! Anyways, I was thinking that we could sell this place and move there! I could start another butcher shop like the one we had in France…”
“I remember that… That was, what, 70 years ago?”
“80 years, to be exact. We lived there for 10 years; it’s been 70 since we moved away. Back to what I was saying, we would have to run odd hours like we do around here. The neighbors are beginning to wonder if this place is ever open.”
“They never have grasped the concept of a late night diner, have they?”
“Most mortals never will. With the exception of the lot that actually hangs out here…”
“Crack addicts, insomniacs, and truck drivers. Such colorful group of customers! At least the truck drivers tip well!”
“That’s no way to run a business, though,” said Paul, chuckling.
“True. Since you seem to think you’re the business guru, what are your plans for this Alaskan butcher shop?” said Claire, stifling a laugh.
“Just listen! I have it all planned out. We buy a large store building, maybe a pair of connected shops. On one end, I’ll have my butcher shop; on the other, you can open up another diner! I could even take up hunting again! Just like when we lived in Canada! Maybe I’d even compete again…”
“I remember the last contest you were in. It was an elk hunting contest, wasn’t it? The judges were amazed. You took down a 400 pound bull with nothing but a butcher knife!”
Claire couldn’t hold back anymore. She shrieked with laughter, twirling in her seat. Paul took notice of this and he laughed with her. The two of them laughed until they could hardly breathe.
“I jammed it in so hard, it got stuck in the bone. Do you know how hard it is to pull a knife out of bone?” gasped Paul, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I know how expensive it was. That was a $100 knife you stuck in that elk!”
“The meat was worth it though!”
“For the first couple of days it was. By the end of the month, I never wanted to see another piece of elk meat again! And that mounted head! What did you do with that hideous thing?”
“I can’t remember…” said Paul.
He imagined it in a hotel room. He pictured a terrified couple sitting in their bed in some “rustic” lodge, staring at the elk’s head mounted on the wall across from them. There it was in all of its repulsive glory: its eyes bugging out, its head twisted almost completely sideways, and its mouth gaping open like a hairy fish. This imagery sent him into another fit of laughter. Claire imagined her own scenario for the elk’s head. She imagined it sitting in a laundry room, facing the ceiling, with its mouth stuffed full of dirty clothing. Upon imagining this, she began to laugh louder and more high-pitched than before. The two of them continued to laugh until they heard the clock chime.
“Oh my goodness, its 5:00 a.m.! We’d better get this place locked up for the day!” said Claire.
She raced back into the kitchen and put all of the clean dishes away. She pulled out the plug in the sink and watched it drain. As the water drained out, the pipes let out a series of deafening groans.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Paul yelled from the dining area.
Claire took one last look around the kitchen before flicking off the lights. As she walked towards the door, she took one last look around the dining area.
“Come on Claire, it’s almost dawn!” said Paul as he walked out the door.
Claire stepped out into the brisk morning air. Her hand felt heavy as she turned to lock the diner doors for the last time, but she knew this would happen sooner or later. She felt confident that things would work out as well as they had before.
“Alaska, here we come!” she exclaimed, dashing down the sidewalk to catch up with Paul. Once again, her future looked as bright as the dawn.

Welcome!

Welcome to my blog! Not much else to say in this post. My about me section covers pretty much everything I would say here. I'll post my latest short story momentarily. Until then, thanks for stopping in!

Questions?

Contact me at: doomkat713@earthlink.net