Rants, Raves, & Random Thoughts

Shameless self-promotion of my writing skills or lack there of.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Death of a Writer

I went through some of my old short stories, clearing out the ones that were pure crap and whatnot and I ran across the story below. I realize I have a throng of new readers that have never seen it, so I thought I’d repost it for their benefit. I hope you enjoy it…


I see him glide from shop to shop, Barnes & Noble, B-Dalton, Camelot Music. He’s pathetic and weak, with his superficial smile and hollow words. Who does he think he is? If he would stop being so full of himself for a moment and cast a glance behind him, he might catch the clerks rolling their eyes as he walks away or at least watching him. Surely, that’s disgust in their eyes, isn’t it? He’s a blemish, a flaw, a stain on society. He’s everything that’s wrong with this world. He’s-- He’s-- He’s stopping at the food court? Holding that smile so long must have caused him to work up quite the appetite.

The Golden Wok, huh? Good Moo Shoo there. I bet he’s one of those pompous bastards that-- yep, there he goes, he’s nabbed a pair of chopsticks. Look at him. What a scumbag, he’s trying to talk the lady at the register out of charging him the dime for them. What an ass. She caved, probably just to get him out of her sight. Honestly, who eats with chopsticks in the food court? Someone who thinks there better than the rest of us, that’s who.

What a pig! Look at him shoveling it in. He’s hovering over the carton like a momma bird protecting her young. Of course, he can use chopsticks; he’s holding the box right next to his mouth. I’d like to take one of those chopsticks and shove it-- What is he looking at?

Oh, shit! Why is he staring at me? Look away. Be calm. Let’s order something. Get the Moo Shoo. He’ll think you were just interested in his food. Now, this lady’s smile at me is genuine. She gave me two sets of chopsticks for free. I didn’t even have to ask. I reached for them and she turned away. What a nice lady.

Now, where do I sit? Not too close, if he’s smart he’s watching to see what I do right now. Not too far though, I wouldn’t want him to slink away. I have a public service to perform here. I need to observe him. See what makes him tick. See the effect he has on those around him. I have to learn so that I might teach.

I guess lunch is over, he’s on the move. What the hell does he think he’s doing? He just cleaned his own table. He’s so vile. Doesn’t he know that if everyone starts doing that, there’ll be no jobs for minimum wage workers? How are these kids supposed to put themselves through college if people like him eliminate their jobs?

Oh, I guess he’s had his fill of shopping, he’s making a beeline for the door. I wish this parking lot was smaller. What if he sees me again? I made it to my car first. What does a guy like that drive? Figures, he’s in a gas guzzling SUV, a Trailblazer; a God Damned, overpriced, gas sucking, pollution riddled, global killer.

He drives like my Grandma, letting people pass him left and right. What a moron. He sickens me.

Where the hell is this guy going? We’ve been driving forever. Shit, he must live out in the Boonies. Heh, that might not be such a bad thing. Is that--? Hell yeah, it’s a fucking cow. We just passed a pasture with cows and shit.

Finally, he’s pulling into a driveway. Wow, that’s a big house. Two stories. I bet he bought it just to show how much better he is than his neighbors. I’ll pull around the block here and see if I can-- Oh, shit! The garage door is closing, can I make it under without him seeing me? Hell yeah, I’m in. I’ll give him a few minutes to get settled.

His house smells like vanilla. I bet he burns those candles to keep it like that. What’s that sound. Rat-at-tat-tat. It’s coming from around the corner. Maybe if I’m quiet, I can sneak a peek without him noticing. Ah, it’s typing. He’s sitting at the computer. I’ll go in nice and slow. He looks like he’s into what he’s writing. There’s no way he’ll hear me.

Oh, God. It’s so hard not to bust out laughing. I’m standing right behind him and he doesn’t even know it.

What the hell? He’s writing down everything I’ve thought since I saw him. Where’s those God Damned chopsticks. I’m gonna put an end to this once and—



Labels:

23 Comments:

At 5:25 AM, Blogger lime said...

hahahaha, that was twisted in a fun way. loved it.

 
At 5:26 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, thanks, Lime. :D

 
At 6:07 AM, Blogger Breazy said...

great story James! I wasn't sure where it was going until the very end. Very clever.

Have a great day!

 
At 6:12 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

Thanks, Breazy. I aim to misdirect. :D

Oh, and have a Happy Birthday. :D

 
At 6:33 AM, Blogger G-Man said...

As part of your throng, I'm very glad that you reposted this!!
Great content..
Held your attention
Marvelous twist
Perfect length
...I give this an A+

Class dimissed!

G

 
At 6:48 AM, Blogger Mona said...

Alter Ego James?

Well EXpressed :D !

 
At 6:49 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

Thanks, G-man. :D I'm really glad that we wound up reading in the same circles. :D

 
At 6:52 AM, Blogger Mona said...

Ps> I guess you adjust the width to 220 in your html to make that player fit in your side bar

 
At 6:53 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, very well could be, Mona. :D

 
At 7:02 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

Ah, thanks, Mona. It never even occurred to me that I could adjust the code. :D

 
At 7:22 AM, Blogger Kelly Kirch said...

I confess to being the idiot. What the hell happened?

I want answers, man! Don't leave me hanging like this.

 
At 7:35 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, Kelly. I'm the man, being stalked, but I can see into the killer's mind and I'm giving the readers a blow by blow up until the point he delivers the killing blow... :D

Yes, I wrote my own death, but then I've always been a bit twisted. :D

 
At 7:52 AM, Blogger Katie said...

Ahhh. Okay. I like that better than what I thought.

I though you were you. duh. But that the stalker was a twisted muse type thing and you knew he was there then obliterated it because it was talking smack.

 
At 7:55 AM, Blogger Kelly Kirch said...

Funny, Katie. I had a similar thought. I thought stalker at first but then thought it was a stray cat ready to pounce. I guess I have kittens on the brain lately.

Well done, James.

 
At 7:56 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, Katie. That's an interesting take and after reading it again, one I could totally see. I guess that proves that writing is really about perceived reality.

 
At 8:01 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, thanks, Kelly.

is your cat taken to your new kitten any better yet?

 
At 8:25 AM, Blogger ciara said...

very cool stuff...wish i could write as well. always want to, but every time i read other people's stuff, i'm intimidated! LOL i'll just leave it to the professionals :)

 
At 8:31 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

Thank you, Ciara. I really appreciate that. There's no need to be intimidated, write what you feel, someone will want to read it. :D

 
At 10:33 AM, Blogger Breazy said...

Thank you!

 
At 10:50 AM, Blogger Akelamalu said...

Oh you're sooo good! :)

 
At 10:56 AM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

You're quite welcome, breazy. :D

lol, thank you, akelamalu. I do what I can. :D

 
At 3:53 PM, Blogger snowelf said...

I too am glad you reposted! This cracked me up! I love that it pissed off the observer that his house smelled like vanilla!! That was great. All of the little details like that totally made this story.

I loved your 55 this last week too--very entertaining! It's the salsa jar that I always want to do in! >:)

--snow

 
At 5:54 PM, Blogger James Goodman, Author said...

lol, thank you snow. the devil is in the details as they say. :D

Ah, the dreaded salsa jar... yes, it's been known to defy us here as well. :D

 

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