What A Meager Life I Lead

I wrestled with the thought of going into work today as I awoke from my 2 hours and 37 minutes of sleep, yes you heard that right.

My meager sleep led to a very meager day indeed.

Late for the bus as I slumped onwards for what will not be in any way the ride of my life. When I stumble on, there goes any possibility of a seat. Packed from side to side with not meager space provided.

Stepping off the bus, into a puddle which felt like a frozen abyss. I trudge onwards to the towering building to sit at my desk, but oh wait, it gets worse. I can’t seem to find my pass for the building so await for a colleague to let me in.

Wet, late, still drifting in and out of sleep and now I’m ready for a moment of screaming into my ear for the 3 minutes and 39 seconds of lateness.

My boss now walks over, not looking meager in any way, shape or form. Like a rhino he’s hear, pointing without a word to a room on the opposite side of my floor as I stare at it in desperation there’s a breakable window for me to throw myself out from so this hellish landscape can end.

In the room, he screams, shouts and goes over the political workplace policies I have broken, as if I’ve just issued out the ending to the lives of every workforce member and we’re about to be demolished in any second, just for 3 minutes and 39 seconds of lateness.

At my desk, me meager salary cheque sits waiting and the idea of opening it and ruining the day further just fulfils me further in a sarcastic manner so I slide it across to the other side.

My chair is crooked, broken and won’t even lift high enough for me to reach the desk, after some meager hours of work, I find my time hitting the lunch hour and hoping for some ray of sunshine, I find my lunch wet, dripping in fact and not even edible to a dead animal.

The clock ticking by till the end of nigh is as if it clicks forward then clicks back twice more. I even wonder for a moment, will it ever hit 5pm so all this can end?

As I leave work, I see the bus drive past, waiting instead a further 39 minutes for the next to roll on in, but of course it’s followed by a second right behind.

Although I had a seat, I had to give it to an older woman that repeatedly requested it, tapping me consistently with her handbag till my soul left my body and auto function kicked in to let her have it.

And then I’m home. Time to drift off and act like nothing happened.

That is until the neighbours wake up, stick on their tracks and play pretend DJ for another night.

via Daily Prompt: Meager


The Legends Of Tony Costello

The life of 2 distant teens…..

You always had that one guy. The kid who could do no wrong, the one stories were made of. In fact, no, the one who had bibles created after them almost, the Jesus masiah to the masses.

I mean, Tony Costello was that guy. He was the Legend of the school. I was the same age, in fact we shared the same birthday, 29th June 1987, but we shared a lot more than just that, yet I wasn’t the legend.

Everyone wanted to be with Tony, be Tony in fact and just share the same air as him but that didn’t get to happen for everyone, just a select few. The tight nit group he kept between was just like a cloud of the higher class. The kids whose parents were lawyers, bankers and in the real estate business. Tony’s parents did just that, a dad who ran a real estate business and a mother who was part of a law firm that I can’t even mention with any legal backfire.

Some of the stories I heard about the legend Costello were beyond perfect, trust me. There was this one story he fought off a group of guys at a bar, I mean Tony was big, tough as well but a group of guys, twice his age, and what was he doing at a bar, he’s 16?

Another priceless story was he’d slept with 3 girls on the same night, together. It’s sometimes amazing what gets round school. Also the girls, they were more like cougars, again any area of the stories were highly doubtful. He’d also one time got with a teacher, been removed from school for flooding the gym hall, I don’t even know how that one got started because it never even happened, but you get what I mean.

Legends are just stories.

Me and Tony used to be our very own legends as well, just a story of the past now.

We grew up together, were best friends, scratch that, brothers. Side by side through everything, even when my parents got divorced, he was there for it.

It fell apart when he defended me going into high school. One day coming from home, I landed myself in a fight and things went their usual ways, me down to the ground, all I remember is Tony took in 3 kids a year older and that was that. The next day, word got round and things went from there.

We stopped speaking, he stopped coming by my house and then I started hearing more and more stories. Tony never made any of them up, he just went along for the ride and I don’t blame him.

Like I said, legends are just stories and nothing more.

But that day of the fight, when I was down on the ground and Tony stepped in, now that was a legend.

via Daily Prompt: Legend

The Usual Christmas Goings On

*A note for the reader – Sometimes this is how I envision having kids and dealing with Christmas after numerous conversations with friends, who just seem to hate this time of year….

It’s that time of year again, the children are happy, everyones excited and streets are littered with twinkling lights and tinsel.

It’s not the most jolly time of year, especially for a parent.

For parents this time of year is far from jolly, trust me, it’s almost frightful. You’re just happily enjoying the summer then all of a sudden the sounds of “jingle Bells” chimes in and you’re wacked with a gust of torment.

Seriously, it’s destructive to my life.

I’d like to just breeze by but the musts do ensue as I trapse the halls of shopping areas in search of that one thing, that one thing to rule them all, I sometimes think Frodo and Sam had . amore delightful time traveling to Mordor. I know.

I don’t know how some people do it except my small tight group of friends, as we manage to circle the crowds, like a slew of vultures. And after, well we just hit up the nearest bar just to get some shots in before we see the small terrors again.

Then you have to deal with the small ones constantly screaming, shouting a top the roof what they want and they ain’t going to stop till they get it, oh no. Hopefully it doesn’t turn out like that movie, Jingle All The Way, pacing the streets like an oaf trying to find that very gift they oh so must have.

But, my god does it all equal out on the final day. On that one day a year where the calm sets, the home is warm and happy and everyone very much is jolly on this time of year.

Also, you totally nailed that present they really wanted.

via Daily Prompt: Jolly

Running On The Hills

Cold. Damp. Dark.

I just kept running, not sure where I was going, what I was doing. Just running.

Don’t ask me how this started or what happened, heck I have no idea. I was just strolling outside, moonlight beaming down but now, well that’s it, now I’m running for my life and I don’t know what to do. Help.

Everyone’s gone, everyone’s left me. I’ve slipped about four times already on these steep rocks, this gorge beneath me epitomising my death. Four times I slipped and nothing, it was the fifth that did it. Slip, slide and battered, my leg in a tangled mess but I can still hear it, that noise, they’re coming.

I’ve came too far, I’m not ending my stand here in a heap, so back up and run, drag my dead leg if I have to, whatever it takes.

Avoiding another fall is the best option, make sure I don’t slip. The noise grows stronger, the moonlight fading and then that’ll be it. The sixth did the trick.

Down into the gorge I go. Roll once, roll twice and down. I’m out.No more getting back up now and the noises are hear, directly on me but the moons so faded I can’t see, can’t feel anymore with the cold. I don’t need to feel now, it’ll get this over quicker.

They’ve got me.

Relocate Or Farewell?

It was that time yet again.

Goodbye house. Goodbye street. Goodbye school. Goodbye neighbours. Goodbye friends, let’s try and stay in touch (who am I kidding.) Goodbye crazy pigeon guy who screams at the kids cycling by, actually scratch that last one. But, one thing for sure, goodbye love interest.

It’s that time again where we’re relocating, heading away, or as the mother likes to call it, venturing off to a new wilderness. Well, mother, that new wilderness is New York, Manhatten to be more precise, no not upper, downtown, exactly.

(Really thought we had a chance at sticking around this time.)

The man of the house (el padro) has a new job, no idea what it is, not asking. Mainly because he whisked me away from all that’s good in life, but still, not to derail, New York.

I’ve said my farewell’s to all but one, and now I’m sitting back here as the car ventures into the big robust city. Wheels spinning and the hustle bustle of the city awakes in a roar. Already, I know I’m not going to like it here, but hey ho it’s too late.

Anyway, again I’m derailing and spiraling down my own mind tunnel right now, stop it now. I’m here to say, I’m gunna miss you, that’s a fact.

This isn’t the best way, and heck I should of said all this when I could but my bad. I never had a chance to say, I really like you and I don’t know if you do or don’t really like me, but this is my side and I like to think ‘really like’ is the better side of that.

Farewell I guess, we could have been great together but imagine, we can think back on this in 15 years time and go, wow, that could have been something, maybe.

Maybe’s are what guide us, what make us and what break us, but a maybe is good enough for me. So, from here, I’ll be seeing you and farewell.

Maybe not forever.

If I Were Lonely

Weekly Writing Challenge: Build Your Own

Loneliness is an interesting feeling. It can come and go, but does it truly ever leave you. It clings, wraps it’s cold arms around you and never lets go but perhaps it is wanted. Perhaps we want to feel lonely, isolated, blocked off from the world in which we inhabit.

I’m strolling through these big city streets, the tall towering buildings as they stand above me as if judging my every move. I pass through the people, stepping side to side, we’re dancing. Moving in between. How do I feel alone? How could I ever feel alone in a place surrounded by people, by life. But I do.

I pass them and they don’t notice. They don’t notice my existence, nor their own. Nobody notices each other in these big world’s yet they’re crammed with people to the very brim, squeezing everything they can in. It’s so busy, so full of life that the very life itself pushes against the walls of the towers.

I wonder what I’m doing here, much more suited to a field filled with dreams and outstretching lands but that, that only belongs in a dream where the world has no ends. I open my eyes again. No change. Here I am wandering carelessly through this jungle of people. I stop and I wonder. I wonder on what would life be like if I were lonely?

Cold Water (A Polaroid Short Story)

I’m floating. My face bobs above the threshold of the bath water. Its starting to go cold but its a place to think. I close my eyes.

I’m back in the studio, with Sarah. We’re doing a fashion shoot for a uni project of hers and as always she’s made these spectacular dresses. Blue silk which flow to the floor brushing the ground in a sway as it moves. Small emblems embroiled onto the hip area to form a beautiful gem belt. Its really something. She can make such a work of art.

I dip my head further down into the water. The sound of the TV in the other room just drowns out instantly. Now its just me and my thoughts. Me and my memories.

The sun is creeping closer to its edge. Its burning out in its orange flaming glow and casting streaks of red across the sky. I’m at my favourite place to gather my thoughts. The cliff just beside the beach were the waves would crash below my feet and the sun sets on the far outer edge of the ocean. It was so peaceful and quiet here. It got me away from everything.

I feel a chill shudder through me, then a noise from the other room. I lift my head out the water slightly but nothings there. She’s not there.


The above is an elaborated extract from a screenplay I wrote and recently directed. The film is currently in production and shall be released via Vimeo and the ‘Polaroid’ website (currently being made) in the coming months.