short story

going to attempt a short story. but now that it's forced, i wonder if i can do it.

perhaps this will turn into a free write. maybe i'll just close my eyes and let the words come out.

swirls of leaves danced around my ankles as i walked down the street. as a gust of wind picked up, i thought they might travel up my pant leg, but the dear little green things were content to stay close to the ground. a laugh escaped my lips as i realized i was thinking about leaves as living, sentient beings again. maybe it wasn't just a dream.

a bright ray of sunlight reflected from an apartment window, and i only had a chance to admire it's beauty for a moment before the bus arrived. as if they were threatened by the fumes, the leaves blew away as the hissing doors opened. i stepped into the bus, dipped my metrocard and with a familiar bleep, i was on my way to work.

every time i get on a bus i apologize to rosa parks. i happen to like sitting in the back, though i know times are different now. there's a difference when you're given a choice, or made to do it. but i take the seat in the corner, walking past little children going to school and older men in suits, also going to work. most of them don't bother to look up, unless i accidentally brush against their bags on the floor.

"sorry" i murmur, though they don't really hear it.

my seat is taken, and i sigh sadly. i just wanted to ride with a good seat next to the window. there was something i had to prove. two days ago, i walked to work, nothing out of the ordinary, but still, quite a distance. i passed through one of the city's largest parks and took my time. sweet grass filled my nose, singing birds drowned out the car horns and the sunlight danced between the tree limbs. i almost didn't want to leave.

as i approached the exit, something buzzed by my ear. i thought this early in the morning it might be a mosquito, so i swatted my ear and turned around to see what caused the noise. a leaf was dancing on the air, right next to me. there was no wind in the park, so naturally i was dazzled by the magic of its flight. it buzzed again, but this time, i could hear words from the buzzing.

"don't leave..." it pleaded. "come play with us."

my brows furrowed as i thought about the rationality of this happening. here it was, about 6am during the week, surely i was dreaming. there were leaves falling from the trees and on the ground, i must be seeing things. but the leaf danced closer and again, without a face asked,

"won't you stay...?"

looking around, i saw no one else in the park. i couldn't hear a car, or a truck, a subway or screeching children laughter. everything was still except the leaves. i apologized and slowly backed away from the leaf. inch by inch i made it out and the leaf fell to the floor. a car horn warned me of its turn and i jumped back up on the curb, barely missing being hit. from then on i agreed to take the bus crosstown.

reaching up, i grabbed the pole and held on for the rest of the ride. that couldn't have been real.

"leaves don't talk" i whispered to myself.

a little girl who had noticed me smiled and placed her finger to her lips. 'it's a secret" she whispered back.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i don't think i like writing in the first person..... :-P at least not like that.

freewrite

The silence stiffened her. Every second was another empty hiss in the receiver. She could open her mouth and say something, but what was the use, it wouldn't make her feel any better. She was here in New York, he was far away, beyond the reach of her unmoving hand.

"yeah, i'm okay." it was a lie. nothing was okay. her feelings for him were slipping with every phone call they made. she couldn't touch him, he was becoming a memory and all too quickly. he wasn't there to comfort her, he wasn't there to tell her he loved her. empty promises meant she should let go. to protect herself.

"okay, i'll talk to you tomorrow then." and with a sentence, any last remaining hope of being saved was broken. the frayed rope just snapped in two and now she was going to bed alone. again.

she felt angry, sad, lonely, and empowered. it was one more nail in the coffin - something else to help her become stronger to live on her own. each time her feelings went unnoticed she became a pillar of her own strength, building the metaphorical wall around her heart. someday, she knew that wall would be too high for any man to climb. but maybe that's what she wanted all along.

but for now, the wall was only five bricks across, two bricks high. was it unhealthy to count the amount of times she was ignored, probably not. but she did. the calculations remained in her head like any good aquarian has an instinct to do. she'll hang on to that calculation for dear life because if she couldn't grasp that, she would fall apart.

now the doubt set in. was this really what she wanted? why had things changed so drastically. did she notice them change at all, or did she never really see clearly how things had been in the first place? he listened to her, complimented her style, looked past the body and into the mind. but is that how all men seethe their way into sex. was she completely take in by charm? it couldn't be that. if only for the reason that she was just as sexually charged, if not more so.

after doubt comes insecurity. maybe she's changed, and hasn't realized it. maybe she was better, or more appetizing when she wasn't the main course. isn't it true that you always want to try what someone else has? is history repeating itself? he's getting tired of her. there's no need to write stories or poems or tell her how much he loves her because he's already got her. what if she just doesn't have staying power? is that what happened the last time? is that why it didn't work out. she just wasn't good enough.

her mind is pacing back and forth, like she would do if she had the room in her small apartment. why couldn't she see that before? why does she think she can have what other women have? the face and body only lure them in, no matter what they say with their sweet talk.

she'll go to bed crying tonight, lonely and determined to live a lonely life in the end.

the red door

this is a story all about how.. no that's just will smith now. funny how the past comes back do you... isn't it? i started this dr. wicked lab thingy to see if i could get myself back in the habit of writing. i want to write stories again. now the screen just started turning pink. think next time i'll do kamakaze mode.

but anyway, on to my story. i'd like to write about the red door. i should start off small, but then i never know where to begin a story. when i was younger, it always seemed to come much easier to me. but now, it seems like a chore to remember all that stuff. it just shouldn't matter anymore right? just start typing away with a story and see how far you can go with it. and stop with the damn backspace!!! grrrrrrr....

i thought someone was trying to get me. walking to work is such a bore. the same streets, same subway lines, same everything when it's a daily occurance. i'd rather just take a different adventure every day, until i wanted something normal again. we all know what happens to girls that want something different. they get it in a way they didn't expect, then they realize how much their previous life was what they really wanted. in the end, they all get to you.

so one day i noticed something different. i couldn't believe that i never saw it before... a door under the stairs was bright red. Not a nice christmas red, but dark, living red. even with my ipod on, i stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at it's living presence. it wasn't breathing, yet it moved as if a wind was carried through it. i thought that maybe my tired eyes were seeing things. i'm never my best in the morning. but then i heard a lock click and i started on my way, not wanting to stare. the day progressed as every day had for the last year. i went to work, took in calls, resolved issues, stayed later than i should have, and walked home. the door was completely forgotten.

the next morning, taking my normal "follow the traffic lights" route, i came upon the door again. it still seemed like it was moving, but this time, it was inviting and warm. for some reason, i couldn't take my eyes off it. my feet stumbled forward and i was standing beyond the gate. with my next breath, my hand was caressing the painted wood. and as i exhaled, the door closed behind me.

Free write....

Her head fell to the pillow, sleep finally took over. After hours of crying, there were no more tears left. blah... i need to write. my creative juices have dried after all the insanity that's happened over the last year. though, i find that' i'm most imnspired wheile walking. in the misdddle of the park, crossing the street, doing laundry. then my laziness sets ijn,.

why am i so reluctant to do what i once loved? perhaps its' because i really have gained a sens e of losing attachments. either that, or i'm attached to other things now. how do you get your old seldf back? i'm not usied to jachanging. i'm not used to beind different than myself. and now i look at me and i don't recodgnize the person looking back. it's a sham e really. all was vigiven up sofor something i thought i could depend on. then i failed myself.

The subway

Where warmth surrounds you in a soft embrace.
When it's cold outside and you need a place
To hide away in your secret place
On the train that rumbled by.

What fun adventures await the day.
"Oh how we travelled" they'll proudly say
To the ones that watched them ride away
On the train that rumbled by.

It takes me home, it takes me far.
You could never sleep by car
And arrive in half the time unjarred
On the train that rumbled by.

~wyn ^_^

friday night freewrite

getting back into the habit of writing. actually pulled out my planner so i could scribble a bit wile i as thinking. saw some trailers tnonight... friends went to the movies and reaminded me i have to keep tsome tabs on the real world. just to understand my surroundings and context.

made a really great friend a few weeks aog. sometimes we hang out, or go for walks. talking is awesome and i think this is the first time i actually made a friend on my own. it wasn't someone knowing someone else. imagine that, the introvert is a social butterfly. HA! wheatever.

where did my itunes ogo? damn steraming radion station. bring back my blac.. classical music please! time to find a new statuyion.

should we go to thje pspa for my fbirthday? not sure. really don't want to drag our asses over ther. sorry, very opotty mouth post. think i like posting beter from my laptop, but the mbile device canb e typed on anywhere!! _^________^

been listenin g to the last five yarars and draswing so many parallels. only i feel like th e faults o f boh partnnerrs was sfelt by me. it probably istn't fair, but i mjst do what i have to do tomorrow. if it means losing an apartment, hey.. i learned from thew best how to lose attachment.

Free write

Need to write, has been a long time since I heard wicked. It feels good to have something familiar. So many new things at once are frightening. Seems I can tyype slligtly better on a teo. Hahaha figures now the typos start.

Don't think this is as useful, I can't typr as fast as I think on a msall device. Too much at work. Have to claw my way out and drag my team to the light. Don't know why I have this feeling of being the only one that works I cnt imagine we woul d be working at all if no one was working, but why am I one of the few that srtess out?

Hope he's fee tonight. I'll need ..... Why oddo I feel I don't deserve someone to be there for me? I wasn't conditioned to thiink that way, at least not by past relationships. I have to be the strong one, alsways, to lead the pack. But what happens to a naturl leader that doesn't want to lead....

Breathe. Its a simplw concept, but so rarely done. Caught an attitude today because I don't know if certain eople realize how much we suffer. Attempts to help are nice, but we need some real-life solutions. Have grat ideas in calass, but that's just class.

I'm tired of this job. Everyone has an attitude, they don't need my help then. They can nastily go on aboout their business. Money is just not above happiness.

Sure, I say that now because I have it to live comfortably. Feel crushed with responsibilit and decisions..

At least I made a friend. Luch is almost over... Wish I had more time.