Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts

Sunday, August 9, 2009

new perspective?

On bad days, Tegan tended to enjoy singing at the top of her lungs in the shower. And on this particular day, she knows it'll be horrible simply because her shower is broken and her throat hurts. All her good clothes are either dirty, or lost in the array of her house.

On top of that, her cat is missing, her nails are too long, and she has to go to a reunion filled with a bunch of her "friends" from high school. "Friends" meaning a hundred people who you saw everyday for four years who didn't know much about you except that you had an interesting name and wore too much black.

"Friends" also meaning the same people who Tegan occasionally sees but doesn't acknowledge because they don't recognnize her as the girl who had a mental breakdown on prom (Not that she ever likes to dwell on that).

In short, Tegan knew the moment she couldn't work the shower was the worst omen she could ever possibly get. She knew that by the end of the day she would be ready to sleep for a good twelve hours after eating entirely too much comfort food and writing a few angsty twitter status updates. A petty way to cope with a not-so perfect day.

It was a Tuesday.

------------

On good days, Jack finds lucky heads-up pennies on the floor. Today, he's already found two. He's feeling good, and he's looking forward to finally getting to see his friends from high school. It's been four years, he's changed, but he's still Jack. The same guy who everyone liked. Not loved, but liked. He's ready to spend the night being nostalgic and to come home with a few phone numbers. He's ready to wake up to nurse a hangover and go to work where his lovely receptionist will greet him with a knowing smile.

Jack used to be an unlucky character, but now he's got all the luck in the world. He's gone from average-joe to cool guy, and he's ready to show everyone that he could've been one of the ones everyone envied.

Before leaving to his reunion, Jack helps the old lady across the hall get a few groceries and earns twenty dollars and nail clippers. He finds a particularly chubby cat and brings it back to his apartment and feeds it some tuna. He takes a hot shower and wears clothes that he's sure look good on him. He's ready for a good night, a good way to end a good day.

It was a Tuesday.

---------

Tegan reaches the too-fancy restaurant late. As always. She enters the room and everyone's already laughing at something some good-looking guy is saying. She's looking around at somewhat familiar strangers, and they're all turning their heads towards her in confusion.

They don't recognize her, of course.

"Hi," Tegan says, and she makes sure to stretch a little so they can take a good look at the killer-body her job has forced her to acquire. "What have I missed?"

She notices the looks change in two ways. Everyone's thinking either A) who the heck is that? or B) holy damn look at those abs. Inside, she's already wishing she wasn't there.

"Um, hey, no mean to sound rude or anything," says one particularly rude good-looking guy, "But who are you and why do we have such an honor?"

"Ohhh, you don't know me?" Tegan says and she laughs a little, "that makes me so sad!"

"Yeah," says a rather creepy fellow eyeing her up and down, "It makes me sad, too."

Eventually, everyone goes back to talking and Tegan's sitting at the edge of the room, drinking her fifth glass of (you guessed it) water. She sees all the familiar faces, just aged a few years in time. Nobody's changed much, but at the same time everyone's different.

"Hi, Tegan," says a cheery voice, "thought nobody recognized you, huh?"

Tegan looks up in surpise and is even more surprised to see that it's Jack. Or, rather, a very good looking and confident version of what used to be Jack. She thinks her life can't get any worse, but next thing she knows he's sitting down and leaning in close.

"How've you been?" she says, leaning away. "You look great."

He smiles and she notices that his teeth are perfectly straight. Something that Jack didn't have in High School. "I've been great. You don't look bad yourself."

She smiles comprehensively. He didn't even know.

-----

He was working the room, and he was working the people. Jack was confident that at the end of the night, he'd finally get the attention of the hottest girl of the room. In the case of Senior year it would've been Macy, but Macy now has big huge implants that everyone knows aren't natural except for her. It is at the interruption of no one other than Tegan, when Jack realizes that he isn't the only one has changed.

Everyone doesn't recognize Tegan, but Jack does straight off the bat. She's dressed clothes that show off areas that not many aren't confident to show off, but she wears herself just as she always does- away. When she's addressing the people, though, he notices a sort of switch she makes: from Tegan to Mystery girl. He doesn't know much about Tegan, but he sure wants to know about Mystery girl.

So, he approaches her as she sulks in the corner of the room, and once they start talking, he sees the switch come on, and Tegan fade away.

"What have you been doing since we've graduated?"

She smiles, "Oh, just a few things here and there."

He grins, making sure to show off his perfect smile. "Cool, cool. So listen, I'd love to keep in touch with you after tonight. It seems we never really got to talk back then, but I'd like to now."

She smirks. "No kidding?"

----

Tegan was sure he was kidding. Not only was he coming on too strongly, but he had to be kidding if he thought that she'd want to talk to him again after this night.

"No kidding," and once again Tegan gets a good douse of too much crest-whitening.

"Well," she says and she smiles at him coyly, "I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels that way." She's getting out of there. Pronto. "But, I don't have a pen.."

He looks disappointed, just a little, but takes out his phone. "Just give me yours, and I'll call myself with it.

She can't believe she didn't think of that. She really can't.

Hesitantly, she gives him her phone and just like that, the deal is done. The fate is sealed. She was going to have to go out with him on another day and as kindly as she can.. reject him. All cause her stupid shower didn't work. All cause all her good clothes were in the wash and she had to wear her stupid slut clothes.

What a great night.

-----

Jack was sure he was getting a second date and more from Tegan. He was feeling her, and she was feeling him. He was sure of it. He smiled at her again, and he stood up.

"Want something to drink?"

She shook her head. "I don't drink."

He nodded, "Me neither." Lie. "I think it's so dumb to get wasted." Lie again.

She looked surprised, but pleasantly so. "Really? That's really good to hear." She stood up, looking at her watch. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I have to get going. Call me?"

Jack smiled. He had her. "Of course" He watched her walk away, and walked towards the bar for a beer.

What a great night.


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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Blind Pursuance


(thanks to artvisions.org for the image)

"Weigh what you want against what makes sense."

That's from my horoscope today (I don't check my horoscope everyday or anything...it just gets sent to my e-mail). Probably one of the better ones I've heard...those horoscopes can be really blunt and honest sometimes—and not in a good way.

Most people always plead for things that either 1. can't be done/achieved or 2. is against any factual belief. Take a little girl for example. How are you supposed to get her a unicorn, or take her to the land of cute, bubbly faeries when it's simply not possible? How are you going to make your son a Power Ranger? There are so many things that we all wish could be true, could be done. It's just too bad the world doesn't work that way.

I'm not saying that things cannot be done or achieved, though. Everyone always says "nothing is impossible." But everyone needs to keep in mind that it only applies to things that are "fact" and "makes sense". As much as I'd love to believe that someday I can fly, it's just not humanly possible. If you have a similar dream, such as piloting a plane, that's a dream worth pursuing. There's probably some human race in another galaxy far, far away that could fly, but as for now, Earth-humans just aren’t birds (who knows, there's probably a planet in some other galaxy that has living, breathing Pokemon).

Oh, and something that bothered me—deleting. It's so annoying when I accidentally delete a photo on my camera. Yes, I know that there's always a confirmation after you press the delete button ("Would you like to delete this?"), but sometimes I do it too quickly and it gets deleted. You see, back then, with the old, conventional cameras that use film, if you take a photo, you're stuck with it no matter what. The downside is that you can't review the photos. Now, with the digital cameras, you can review the photos, but you have the risk of accidentally deleting a photo. -sigh-

-the clam.

P.S. Keep it up, Michael Phelps!

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Sunday, August 10, 2008

fiction is a form of symbolism, I believe

Sitting in an office area with the air conditioner turned too high, Teagan wanted to reassure herself that she wasn't nervous. The only problem was that Teagan was honest, and therefore couldn't reassure herself she wasn't nervous because in fact she was. She was about to meet the person that could make her or break her, and all she had was the stench of alcohol in her hair and wrinkly clothes from sleeping on the subway.


Looking into the mirror opposite her, she saw many people in the same situation as herself. They looked disorientated, fidgety, and nervous. They looked like they wanted to be anywhere but there, and most importantly they had a gleam of anticipation in their eyes. It was either they would leave the building happy, or leave it in utter disappointment. It was either they went home with a good story to tell or one that they didn't want to tell at all.

Teagan hoped with all hopes her story would be a good one.

"Teagan?" A nice lady in a white uniform called from down the hall, startling Teagan from her train of thought. "You may come in now."

Teagan stood, taking a deep breath. She popped herself an orange tic tac and smoothed out her limp, flat hair. Her eyes came across another's and for a moment they held a connection of understanding, hope, and once again- anticipation.

Teagan turned away and walked towards the lady in white, her steps echoing off the floor. Her heart seemed to be beating loudly, and when she reached the lady it seemed not to beat at all.

"Follow me, please." She followed her down the hall, watching the lady's feet as they squeaked against the linoleum floor. They came across a room- room number 365 and Teagan found herself holding her breath as the lady slowly turned the door knob and opened the door.

Teagan stepped into the room and the first thing she saw was a shock of red hair much like her own- only it was fake. Sitting there was a stern-faced reaching fifty-one lady that would break or make Teagan at that very moment. Her hair was pulled up to frame her face professionally, and her posture was of the loyal kind. Her eyes were quite likes those of a hawk and they followed Teagan's every move, down to the nervous swallow she took.

"It took you long enough," she said coldly. Her eyes darted towards the chairs opposite her.

Teagan sat down to the one closest to the door and looked down at the floor. "I apologize."

"You've been out drinking," she stated, and Teagan ran her hand through her hair once more. "That might be a problem."

"It isn't," Teagan gritted, "I assure you."

"You wouldn't want to end up like your father did," the woman said softly and Teagan noticed the look of sadness that washed over her features.

"I wouldn't even if I could."

The woman nodded before gazing out the window. "It truly has been a long time though, Teagan. I was afraid you wouldn't show up."

"I was, too," Teagan said softly, "I was, too, mother."


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