Rolling My Eyes

Driving around and it is late and we were drinking cold things that will only keep us awake. But a cop starts following us anyway. And five blocks later, he turns turns on his cherries, and Charlie says a swear word and we pull over. The cop drives his car along side us, and windows are rolled down. And the cop he just stares. And stares. And then says, "How old is she? You're looking a little young to be out." I stated my age at the same time Charlie, the asshole, was stating how old I was gonna be. The cop says, "No shit?" And I let him know I loved him.

Edward Julian Watson purchased himself a kitten. And he regretted it badly, while he was walking home from the pet shop, arms full of expensive cat food, scented litter and the orange box containing the orange cat, that Edward Julian Watson had decided to name Orange. He regretted buying the animal because the sounds coming from the box appalled him. The cat sounded like a human. A small one dying and scared. It kept scratching at the box. Edward Julian Watson could not get the sight of Jessica McClure's face out of his mind. His mother had made him watch the news while the little girl was stuck down a well. Three days went by and he still felt lonely. The kitten had not helped matters much. He seldom ever saw the dumb animal. It spent all its time under furniture. In whatever room he was not, he assumed. He never heard it make a sound. But apparently his neighbour did. She opened her door, when he was getting into his. "My god, the scratching and howling....Wha...

She thought the baby would come, but it did not. Matthew was in her car, parked behind the laundromat. He sat sideways, with his feet propped up on the dash. He smoked cigarette after cigarrette. Her 11-month old son was sleeping in the backseat. The front passenger side window was open, but just a crack. It was pissing down rain outside. He had met her almost six months a go. She was almost five years older than him. And three months pregnant. And he didn't care. He worked the afternoon shift. Drove the forklift, for cans of soup. Brought home his pay check. And he had cable TV and cigarettes. All the time. She was easy to get along with. He had decided love was only an action. And anyone could act. She thought the baby would come, but it did not. He drove them out to a country road. It was after two in the morning. It was no longer raining. And it felt so good, to be behind the wheel, driving too fast. He rolled down the windows. He felt the dampness of the June night right...

Tommy grasped his hair in exasperation as he flipped his notes furiously. The clock was ticking fast. “I’m never going to make it in time,” he thought. “Only 4 hours till the exam.” He took out a stack of notes, crisp sheets of paper filed neatly in a binder. The name “Suzy” was penciled smartly at the top, happy pink drawings of flowers as decoration. The little hearts that accompanied the flowers caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow. And then he wondered with disgust how the girl has her head in the clouds. “Chapter 4, chapter 4,” mumbled Tommy. He frantically turned the pages. He froze in horror as he found the right one. “…the fuck?” He examined the scribbling, shaking his head slowly, like some imbecile. And then Tommy fished out an eraser quickly... ~by Vinny~ He scrubbed the pencil lines off of the page. Erased her name. Tried to erase the picture of her in his mind. He tried focusing on the fast ticking of the clock; reminding him he had work to do. Tried remembering th...

ticknart Jessy Brian Autumn Steven Novak

THE CITY'S STILL DARK by Queenie for Christine Smith Chapter One the tired spaces He drove back to the old place again. He did not know why. He had not even noticed he was doing it, until he saw the red car parked in his space. Swearing under his breath, he went to turn his car around and drive the 35 minutes out of the suburbs and into the city. And to his new home and to his new bed. Five hours later, he would be up and on his way back to the airport and to a long three days in Milwaukee. She was happy in her new home. She loved the living room windows; so big. She loved the fireplace in the kitchen; so not-needed. She loved that she could sit outside her front door and see what was going on. And she loved looking at her red car. Parked in her driveway. And she really liked her new bed too. So, usually when he was pulling in next to her car, she never noticed. Except this night. This rainy, spring night, when he decided not to turn his car around, but to sit in his car in front o...

She got herself a ride over to the next town and then she walked for the rest of the night. She walked a lot during the day too, and that next night she slept in an abandoned car, behind a gas station. The owner found her there in the morning, and gave her two cigarettes and a cup of coffee, before sending her on her way. He did not have the mind to care where she was from. But she did. So she walked some more. Until she found a pay phone and she called back home; collect. "Hi, Mom." "Nobody is looking for you, Miranda," her mother replied, listening to her daughter sigh in relief. "You haven't called the police?" Miranda walked all day. She found a dollar and then a little shop that sold coffee for that much. She sat at the counter. The man who sat beside her wore a red plaid shirt. He offered her one of his donuts. "You're too skinny," he said. And she laughed and took the offer. "Where you headin'?" And he replied, ...

"I am leaving," she said, but he got to them first. "Give me my keys," she smiled sweetly at him. Damn. She still wanted to smile at him. He laughed and smiled right back. "Not a chance." "I don't want to be here," she replied. She meant it. "Give me my keys." "But I already took back everything I gave you. You're shit out of luck." He laughed, right in her face. She had agreed he could have it all back if he wanted, afterall, she knew. And it had not bothered her. Even though she would really miss the Guns n' Roses album. It had not bothered her too much. To give back the things he had gave her. She had not even thought of her car. Or the fact that he owned half of it. So while he laughed, she shook her head and when he was done, she said, "It does not matter. I did not own a car six months a go. I know how to get around this town." She reached down for the coat; near her feet. She put it on. ...

Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high. Minnie also liked to get drunk. Phillip liked getting drunk too, but all his friends had plans. "Minnie," he said to her, when he saw her going into the girls room, during class time. "Minnie, do you wanna come over on Saturday night?" And Minnie sneered at him. "Fuck off, asshole," she said. And she watched him as he did. Minnie sat on her bed Friday night. Listening to her mother. On the phone, in the kitchen. Still only coming out of her bedroom when she had to. "Mom...Mom....I know, Mom...." She repeated, into the phone. When Minnie could not listen to whining anymore, she reached over to her stereo and put on Fleetwood Mac as loud as she could. She listened to Go Your On Way and thought of Tommy. When her mother came downstairs she noticed her, but pretended not to. Until her mother reached over and unplugged the stereo. "What the fuck?" Minnie said. And ...

She lay stretched on the couch, two pillows to prop up her feet, for three days. She never changed her clothes. Just wore her blue jeans and a pink t-shirt. Her bare feet and a pale face. She never seemed to move; except her mouth. "If you are hungry, make sandwiches for you and your sister." Tommy would ask her if she were sick and she would say things were fine. Everything is alright. But at night Tommy could not sleep because he heard her crying. "Goddamn you, Chet, Goddamn you..." The sunlight bursting through the leaves prevented Tommy from looking up. It was just as well, looking up only reminded him that he could not climb a tree. Instead, sitting on his shadowed hillside perch,straight in his line of vision, Tommy saw some of the other recess children who were with joined hands, holding up those who ran away from the blacktop with their arms. Tommy ran home from school. He did not walk with Mirko. He figured Sissy would likely be starving by now, just...

Besides being scared that he was losing his hair, Edward Julian Watson also feared other things. Small rodents, microwave ovens and typically, death. But most notably, Edward Julian Watson was scared of his wife. She called, one fine day, at a blissful 7:30 in the morning. Edward Julian Watson was waking up with Linda and the sex had been good the night before. But because he was waking up with Linda and it was not at his house, he did not hear his telephone ring or his answering machine come on. At 8:30 in the morning, Edward Julian Watson heard the message his wife had left him, while he was adjusting his tie, almost ready for his day. His wife was asking to meet him for lunch. When Carissa had walked away from their marriage, it had came as a terrible surprise to Edward Julian Watson. He believed his wife loved him. She said, "I never see you. You run your stupid shop and I bust my ass for school. You love TV and I love books." "Alright," he had rep...

Your brother came to see me last night. It is funny how the years can melt one into another blurred, uneven, so long, so close. He looked the same, save longer hair. Same easy smile. And Wendy was here. And Charlie was here. And Marty is always here. And your brother spoke of you. Wendy and I, our eyes locked. Duplicate worry. Duplicate pain. But he told us it was okay, she takes care of you well. And we prayed for it. Later on, I said to Wendy, "I think my heart stopped." And she said to me, "I think mine did, too." I went to bed and I cried for you. I felt I had to. Your brother said your spirits were high. But then I wiped my eyes and I rolled myself over to love. Something you reminded me was attainable, when I had the least belief in it. I would not be where I am now, if it were not for you. I have much to thank you for. And I will wish the best for you for Everyday.

Everyday I wake-up in the same house and I see the same faces, I see the same rooms, I see the same trees in my front yard. Everyday my shoes hit sidewalk and I travel to the same place and I see the same things. The same people. Hey there, Steve and Tracey. Hey there, Terri. Hey there, other Terri. Hi, Sara. Hi, Dakota. Hi, Austin. Hi, Tamera. Everyday I find reasons to go into the corner store. Everyday I find reasons to leave this place. Everyday for 1000 days. And now I am. I have made it happen. Tomorrow when I wake-up, it will not be like Everyday. Tomorrow when I wake-up, I will take down the curtains. I will unload my freezer. I will bag up the fish. I will box the cats. And then the movers will arrive. And not just to move me from one end of this city to the other, but to take me to a new city. I have lived here for all of my adult life. Over one third of my entire life. I chose this place. It is more hometown to me then where I grew-up. And now I am leaving it. I wa...

Tommy walked along the dark side of the apartment building. He knew he could get in through the back door, but going back up to the seventh floor again just scared the shit out of him. He had tried to rob the 7-11 three times for milk. But he just couldn't do it. Now instead, Tommy was on his way to the apartment building's dumpster. Tommy wanted to kick at the dirt and the broken beer bottle glass that littered the weeds under foot, but he did not. Tommy wanted to cry too, but he did not do that either. It was getting too late for him to be making sounds. He knew someone would likely hear him and then back to Yolanda's he would have to go. And the sounds of the night surrounding him were loud enough, anyway, with the televisions and their broken-up voices and the mixing of music coming from bedrooms. Loud were the whirl of the fans that made Tommy notice even more the dead air, that hung humid to his skin. The crickets were calling for rain, cars were chugging and sq...

Sissy was wearing her blue hat and mittens and her red rubber boots. She was going to the store with Momma and Tommy. "I want some gum." Tommy said to his mother. And Sissy wanted gum, too. The park was on the way to the store. When they were close, Momma said they could play there for a little bit. Sissy went up and down the slide and laughed. Tommy sat in a swing and kicked dirt. Momma smoked a cigarette, in the shade. Jackie was driving down the road and Sissy saw the red car first. Jackie pulled over and said, "Let's go for ice cream." The kids climbed into the back seat and Jackie put the top down. She turned to Sissy and said, "I like your red boots." "Yeah, Jackie," answered Sissy. At the ice cream parlor, Jackie held her up and read to her the kinds of cone she could have. "Chocolate..Vanilla..Tiger Stripe..Bubble Gum..P--" And Sissy remembered she wanted gum, too. Momma said okay, they would go over to Jackie's hous...

By eight o'clock Edward Julian Watson had slept off his plane ride and he had watched The Facts of Life . When 227 started, Edward Julian Watson decided he did not want to sit at home for the night. No, not at all , he thought. He drove his blue Datsun over to Maple Street and called on Becki. The negro woman, who owned the house, opened the door and said, "No visitors allowed upstairs after nine pee emm." She went upstairs herself to inform Becki of her visitor, raising her green skirts and leaving the door closed on Edward Julian Watson. "It is going to be hot tomorrow." Edward Julian Watson made small talk with Becki. But he was thinking of other things. Like about the lunch he was having with his mother the next day. And how much he did not want to go. And Becki was sitting on the porch next to him just sighing. "Edward...I tell you all the time I avoid weather reports, so I can wake-up each day surprised. Why do you insist on telling me t...

Everyday, at Dave and Barbara's house, Tommy woke-up to the sound of the alarm clock going off at 6:15. It was way earlier in the morning than Momma had ever made him get-up. Tommy would wonder why the birds seemed so happy, when all he wanted to do was bury his head back under the covers. Which he often did. And then Tommy would get up to go pee and then play with the trains or pick his nose or do any other variety of little boy things--even sometimes doing his homework from the day before, just to prolong going down the stairs. Everyday, after Tommy had wasted as much time as he possibly could, he would put on the school clothes, left out the night before by Barbara. And everyday when Tommy came downstairs, Barbara would tell him to take a bath. In her high, clipped voice and while casting a disapproving stare down at him, she would say, "Go take a bath, Tommy." And Tommy hated baths. In general, Tommy just hated bathrooms. Everyday trudging out of the kitchen anyway...

"Are we going to be spending the night there?" she asked Edward Julian Watson. She blurted this question, as if it had come out of nowhere. Putting his chin in his hand and shrugging his shoulders; all with such seriousness, he asked, "Do you want to?" "It's up to you, but you need to let me know." She looked away from his face. "Alright." "Alright what?" she asked, looking up towards him. "Alright we'll stay," Edward Julian Watson had decided. And Becki was suddenly nervous. The next day, she found the number for the highway hotel. She dailed that number and made the reservation. And Becki was calm. When the night and the day was almost done, they went to the hotel to check in. Becki smiled and said her name to the short, dark man bulging behind the desk. He looked at her oddly. He tapped his whole hand on the top of the reservation book, before he pointed a finger at her. "I know you." Becki...

One day, Edward Julian Watson had enough. He decided he was going to quit the television business. He decided this on the first day back from a five-day vacation in Jamaica. It had been his first vacation in eight years.Work all screwed up and Bob and his mother had called five times today asking him to come over once he was done with the store. Yes. He was quitting the television business and Edward Julian Watson was going into the travel business. He told this to his mother when she called for the sixth time. "I am going into the travel business," he said. "Oh, I see," she replied. "And the television business?" "I am quitting it." "Oh, I see," she said. "You are being stupid." "So, I'm not coming over tonight. I will see you for lunch tomorrow." Edward Julian Watson ended the conversation. He told Bob three days later. I am going into the travel business," he said. "And the televisio...

When Tommy woke-up he found himself staring up at the ceiling and then at the window, up too high. Not right. The sunlight coming in the room was leaving dusty rays on the window sill and in the air. What the fuck...? Tommy could not understand anything. He sat up fast, his bare feet hitting cold cement. He was suddenly alert; his eyes scanning. "Oh, fuck," he whispered. "Oh, fuck." White painted bars. Steel toliet. Bars. Bars. Bars. Fucking bars...Where the fuck are my shoes? "Oh, fuck," Tommy squeaked. He felt dizzy. He focused his eyes on his feet; stretched them across the steel. He noticed the bottom of his jeans were damp and itchy against his skin. "Don't puke, Tommy," he said outloud. Why the fuck am I here? Tommy called out, "Hello...?" But no one answered. On shaky feet, Tommy made his way to the bars. "Hello...Hello..." He looked down the hallway as far as he could, noticed he was in the last cell. No...

It's 3 a.m. Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high. She felt bad that she had not saved Tommy any of the pot he had bought earlier that day. But he did not ask her where any of it was, instead he just pulled her down to the floor beside him and filled his mouth with hers. She ran her fingers over his bare, smooth chest and felt his heart race beneath her fingertips. She did not resist, when he turned her around, as he undid the zipper of his jeans and lifted the red t-shirt she was wearing, so he could enter her from behind. He leaned, reaching forward, grabbing her breasts and squeezing hard,as he used them to push and pull his dick in and out of her. She could feel his teardrops falling on her back. When he was done, she gave him her KISS sweater, so he could keep himself warm, then she rolled the roaches that were left; mixed with tobacco from one of his cigarettes. She let him smoke the joint to himself. After, he told her he liked fucking ...

Dear Tommy, I do not know what to do. It is two o'clock in the morning and I am sitting up here in the hospital and I should be studying for my history test, if I am awake anyway, but I am bored of reading. Mom's at work tonight and everyone else is too tired to come up here and I did not want Grandma to be alone. It would have been the first time. Everyone says she is going to die. No one comes right out and says it to me though. Which is stupid. I am fourteen years old, (almost 15!) not four. I went to visit your grandma for a little bit tonight too. I hope you do not mind. I just know it is really hard for your family to make sure there is someone there for her all of the time. It is so weird that both our grandma's are here doing the same thing, at the same time. Sometimes I feel really bad because I think of all the times I just hated my Grandma. This one time, Mom had found some writing that I had done. I was in grade five. I kept it tucked into the book I ...