Partners

I watched you grow up, you know that right? Even as you were starting to crawl, I was there on the floor with you. We’ve shared a bed, shared drinks, shared our lives. For me to feel this right now is incredible. And all the pride that this moment is giving me is barely being overshadowed by the abject terror my future without you evokes. Because when I look back, you are all I know.

Your friends never became my friends, and while I did spend some time with your sister that year you felt you had outgrown me, it never was real. We all knew it. And the time you spent thinking about me during that time indicates that back then, you had not moved on. Or at least you realized that while you had grown up, you still needed me, but in a different fashion.

And so I came back, a semi-permanent fixture in your life. And the young girl that was afraid of the dark changed a lot in that year. You became braver, bolder, you became a little woman. The teenage years were not easy on you. I remember holding you as you cried because some boy had said some horrible things about you. Who could hate you? Who could be mean to you?

I was there when you took your first steps, remember? I could not walk by myself, but when we were holding hands, we both managed to move in a new fashion. Not quite family, not quite a sister, not quite a friend, we were both something unique and indefinable to each other. And when you started going to school, and we had to be apart, it was horrible. But we still had evenings and weekends.

I was with you during slumber parties, and I patiently waited for you to share with me the details of your first dance with a boy. And I remember practicing kissing with you. And then I remember you telling me how different it was in reality. I should have let you know that I was already aware. When you share more than what we have, it’s always special.

I saw you laugh, I saw you cry, and I saw you grow. Grow up and grow distant. Again I felt that I would be separated from you. Again I felt that I would end up in some dark space, hidden in the furthest regions of your mind. But it was not the case. You grew up, and went to college. And you brought me with you in that box that was not quite full. I was sitting there on a shelf, a stuffed reminder of your childhood as you became a woman.

I saw the many apartments, the many bedrooms. I saw you make mistakes, make bad choices, and make the right ones. I never judged you. And I saw your first house, with the man you married. And now, I know that you are away, in that place called a hospital. And I know that you are about to give birth to your daughter. I know all that because you told me as you had me re-stuffed, cleaned and repaired so that I could become an important part of your daughter’s life.

I am afraid that without me you will forget how to walk, when I’m without you I cannot. But I will take care of your child, just like I have taken care of you, and of your mother. I may only have my original button eyes left, but I have watched over your family for years.

[Had to end it there, the only sentence that came to mind was: And I'll remember you as I violently kill your daughter. I spend way too much time writing horror/plot twist short stories...]

The Refuge

First I see stars shining through your bright eyes.
They guide me on the dark sea of my life,
Piercing through the dense fog of all the lies
I feed myself like a cold friendly knife.

I see, like a sunrise, your bright smile.
The wall of frost I hid behind now flows,
Becoming a stream washing the bile,
So that pure bliss my heart finally knows.

And held by your warm benevolent arm,
After all my worries, I know true rest.
And for my luck your love is the best charm
At last, in your heart I can build my nest.

Please stranger do not blush, yours is my heart
Overcome by the touch of Cupid’s dart

[I was challenged to write a sonnet. This is what I got. It took about as long as a story, and I revised it a lot more. Overall, what I like the most is the fact that I had to pay a lot more attention to individual words than I usually do. With a few more like these I might get the reflex to do that naturally.]

[I actually revised it once more because it was pointed out that I made some mistakes...]

The Street

The neon lights were humming, and the street was slowly filling with people again. It was not the same crowd that had filled the sidewalks under a sun that had to dart between buildings and plough through smog to reach the ground. The street was shining under the neon signs, remnants of an evening shower. The stars were shining but no one could see them, it was all about the artificial light illuminating real life. This contrasted with the natural light that shone on the fake life that everyone had. Tonight, the neon lights were a beacon to all those looking for something more, something new, something different. Or maybe just something to do. At the same time the neon lights started humming, music poured out of the nightclubs and into the street. Ulysses himself would find it hard to resist the allure of these songs, especially after spending an entire day in an office building.

A man dressed in black and green seemed to agree with that sentiment. He was unconsciously moving towards a place with a red and blue sign, a name promising a good time, and a line up ensuring that he would not be alone to enjoy himself. His day had been spent entering numbers in a spreadsheet. Meaningless numbers for most. He was aware however that the numbers he was crunching were a payroll. He was also dreadfully aware that the numbers were getting smaller. But he could not think about these things, if he did, he could not live with himself. And so he walked, ready to spend a pay check he knew had been gained by removing salaries from recently laid off employees. The promise of an enjoyable evening was much more important to him right now.

A young girl wearing a black skirt, red shirt, and a friend on her arm was also looking for an enjoyable evening. She had cause to celebrate; she finally received her grades for the previous semester. She wasn’t the best, but it did not matter, she passed. Her mother was proud; her little girl was one step closer to being a nurse. But now all of that did not matter tonight. Both her and her friend had lost their boyfriends in the last few months, and because of the pressure they were under, they had not been able to fill the hole they left in their lives. Although her friend seemed eager to meet someone and get in a relationship again, she was happy to be single. She could wear short sleeves and not risk one of her bruises showing. No one had to know, and she knew what to avoid in a guy now, but she would not mind a year or two for the wounds of her heart to heal. They both spotted a group of friends waiting for them close to a bar filled with loud metallic music. She smiled and realised that it was a brand new day.

“And sometimes you need a brand new start,” said a thirty-year-old woman to a nearby friend. They both understood what was meant by these words. They shared an understanding look and went back to their profession. No, they did not dream of doing that, and they did not think they would be standing on the street corner trying to entice people with their bodies. They could not call it an honest living, but they felt they were in control. They were friends out of necessity, and they were professionals for the same reason. She had lost most of her possessions thanks to a fire and a lack on insurance, and her friend had all of her money stolen by greedy parents. They would make some money fast, move in together and get real job. This was a temporary setback, but it wasn’t setting them back much. People had money to spend, and they were profiting from it.

And if money was to be spent, this man in his mid-life crisis would be one to spend it. His wife had left him for a yoga instructor. The poor sucker didn’t know what he got. He was single, loaded, and drunk, a promising combination under the neon lights. He was king of the bars tonight, and he was moving towards a popular strip club. His wife had always prevented him from going to these places, but tonight he would mingle with hockey players, other businessmen, and a seemingly endless supply of woman-skin.

As the rest of the neon lights lit up, the street seemed to be filled with a new energy. No one thought of recession, divorce, despair, and loneliness. This was the real world, a world of hope, light, and fun; everything they were denied during the daytime.

[So I realize a couple of things: 1 most of my stories tend to be downers, 2 most of my stories are not about action, 3 it isn't quit as easy to label all my stories in a specific way. So I'm gonna try to improve the first two points in my ext few stories, as for the third one, I hope it gets even harder to label my stories, because if it gets easier, it might be that I have fallen in a routine.]