The Bench

We sat on a bench that we found in the desert, its old paint peeling, watching the cloud move past. A slight breeze drifted past, bringing with it the smell of the dusty planes. The powdery clouds drifted past lazily, forming themselves into shapes that can’t be recognized. “What does that one look like?” she said turning her face to look at me, her eyes twinkling. “A cloud” I said looking down at her and smiling mischievously. “Come on,” she said punching me in the arm “you’re not even trying.” “I am too. Do you even know what a cloud is supposed to look like?” “No” she answered eager to debate “Well I do. So there” For good measure I stuck out my tongue.  She followed suit, and before long we were laughing and giggling like school children. As I stood to escort her back to the car my foot caught on a root protruding from the dusty soil, I fell, face first into a bush. Still sitting on the old bench gales of laughter shook her body. I can still taste the small green leaves and embarrassment, while her tinkling laughter still rings in my ears. When we got to the car I opened the door right when a gust of wind blew down the road. Dust got everywhere, looking over her hair was full of it, each piece sparkling in the sun, gleaming like an ember. How did I ever get this lucky, she really is spectacular.

I speak for the people.

You look at me and you see a foolish boy, heir to nothing but a fellowship of failure. You see me as a trifle to be devoured with a single wave of your hand. Someone who will bow to your wishes and follow your every command simply because of the fear you seem to inflict on those you see as week and below you. But I say unto you sir, you do not know the amount of power that I hold. You could not even fathom the greatness that longs to be unleashed from within my being. Come closer, I wish to smell the burning of your flesh when I smother you with the words from my tongue. You insolent pig, without those you rule over you are nothing. We hold your head high, but no longer. We shall rise to up and over throw you, laying your body in the ditches of poverty and sorrow. Can you not feel? Are you so far from this plain of existence that you have no recollection of what you have put into action? Or is it simply that your cruel heart beats like a great clock, mechanical and lifeless, never once feeling pain. Nevermore I cry, your reign of terror is ended and those you thought were friend shall turn on you. You shall be left for the dogs. Find me if you can, I am but a ghost, hiding in the shadows. Waiting for the time when I can strike, and strike I will. I speak for the people, and the people have spoken.

Happy Father's Day

Walking into the room, I could hear the faint snores of my father still sleeping in his bed. I tiptoed across the floor, doing my best to make as little noise as possible, until I reached the center of the bed. Looking up I could see the top looming far over my five year old head and looking as an impossible a climb as Mount Everest.  I looked over at my older brother crouching in the hallway egging me on to do his bidding. Reaching my small hand up toward the blanket that conveniently hung down, while grasping the miniaturized air horn in the other, I struggled and pulled my way to the top of the bed. Then, stopping for breath, I slowly inched my way toward my unsuspecting parents. Suddenly the bed began to move as my mother awoke and turned to find me pointing the air horn at my father like a five year old hit man ready to dispatch his mark. By the time she realized what I was doing it was too late. I pushed the button and the air horn produced an obnoxious honk akin to the awakening of the kraken. My father sprang from the bed like a rocket, and then proceeded to very clumsily plant his glasses on his nose before turning to look at me like a wild man who just found his next meal. Happy Father’s Day I squeaked between gales of laughter, while my brother was laying on the ground in the hallway, tears streaming down his face, laughing his face off. Even my mother was doing everything she could not to chuckle looking at my father with slight pity in her eyes. “Happy Father’s” day I said again when I could again speak without laughing. He looked down at me with a serious look on his thin face and then bust up laughing. Which caused everyone else to begin to laugh again, and we laughed and laughed until our sides where sore.  

The Clock Tower

It wasn't illegal, well not exactly anyways. It was an open campus, it’s not like we broke into any buildings. Just the clock tower.  It was beautiful up there, we could see for miles. Looking up we the skies were so clear that we could count the stars. The cold hard brick sat beneath us as we stared up into the abyss, looking at her I saw her eyes sparkle in the starlight. She truly was beautiful. In every aspect of the word she exceeded in every single one. She looked at me, her hair gently falling across her shoulders. I panicked, turning my head I looked up toward the stars. Luckily a star shot across the night sky. “Look” I said pointing toward the heavens. “Yes, it is quite beautiful” she said looking down at her hands. Almost by instinct I reached up and turned her face toward mine “Not as beautiful as you” I could not hold it in any longer, I leaned in and brushed my lip on her soft cheek. Pulling back I looked directly into her auburn eyes that seem to dance in the starlight. This time I did not miss, her light pink lips were soft and warm. We separated and sat back on the brick wall behind us. And there we sat, enjoying each other’s company.

I'm Leaving

I stared blankly at the mountains, whose peaks were hidden from view by large puffy clouds, thinking about everything that was going on in my life. And everything that was about to happen. I breathed out a puff of air that seemed to hang in front of my face, like smoke from the fire inside me. Pulling the light jacket that I had on tighter around my body I shifted my weight to get a better seat on the hard, dry grass. I heard the crunch of leaves beneath delicate feet and the swish of a low hanging scarf. I looked back to see her standing there in all her splendor, a hand knit scarf wrapped around her neck and a matching beanie placed precariously on her head. I motioned with one hand for her to sit down beside me. Sauntering over, she whipped her brown hair to one side before sitting down beside me. I wrapped my jacket around us both and there we sat. The only sound was the leaves rustling in the light breeze running through the trees, or the faint calls of a robin. Suddenly she leaned forward and looked me directly in the eyes, her brown ones sparkling with withheld laughter. “What were you thinking about?” She asked a mischievous grin on her face. “I’m leaving” I spoke in a whisper, barley audible above the swish of branches. Her face fell, the truth dawning on her. “I’m leaving, and I am scared out of my wits.” I spoke again very softly. She looked down at her hands. “I know” she said looking up into my face, looking into her deep brown eyes I say tears welling up in them. Without hesitation I wrapped my arms around her and we sat there both crying into each other’s shoulders.