Sunday, December 09, 2007
Somebody's party
Told you so:
2. Finding it
Jim Householder was a real fucker sometimes. We found a couple of beers once that some stupid kids threw out their car by the train station probably to avoid the cops, and he grabbed them and started to run.
"You fucker!" I remember yelling as I took off after him. "You fucker! One of those is mine!"
Jim was slow cause he had a gimpy leg since he got beat up by a cop, and I caught him pretty easy. I grabbed for the beer but caught his arm instead, causing us both to tumble onto the concrete. It was late so no one was around. The sulfur parking lot lights of the BestBuy lit up the big red gash on his forehead.
"You dumb fuck!" he yells trying to free himself and the beer from my grip. I ripped the box out of his dirty hand.
"You're the fucker!" I stood up with the beer, and noticed that I'd ripped my fucking pants. Shit. Another trip to the fucking thrift store dumpster. Asshole.
I walked over to the curb, sat down, and pulled out both the beers. Jim was laying on the concrete looking at me.
"You want one, man?" I held one of the beers out to him and rocked it back and forth.
He got up, took the beer out of my hand, and sat a couple of feet from me on the curb.
I popped my beer open and he popped his.
God I love beer. And this was even cold because it was fucking cold as hell out.
Still. It was nice beer. I pulled my coat closer, trying to cover up the torn patch in my pants. I'm not sure if I was bleeding or not.
Still. Good beer. Good beer.
Jim was cold and bitched about it. Whatever. He shut up after awhile. He liked the beer too. I mean come on. Free beer!
We sat and drank our beers until they were gone, dropping them in the gutter where we sat.
Labels: flashfiction, project, story
¶ 12:07 AM 0 comments
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Thursday, December 06, 2007
Somebody's party
This little vignette inspired me to flash fiction, or perhaps it is found fiction. It is no doubt far too racy for my family-friendly blog, and far too sexist. Oh what the hell:
We are standing in the BestBuy parking lot, swilling Milwaukee's Best. It is one forty five a.m. and the trains have stopped running. The bars have closed too, but I don't go to bars because I am flat broke. It doesn't matter that I am underage. That never matters. It is all about the cash.
"Are you going to kiss me or what?" Nikki says to me out of nowhere. She is leaning back on my rust bucket Ford Escort, her beer can up to her lips all frosted with the brightest red lipstick she could find. She is wearing a low cut tight black dress and I literally feel my eyes darting back and forth over her, not sure where to settle.
She is older than me, but not really by much. Maybe 5 years. She bought the beer.
In all, I guess I'm a pretty dumb kid who doesn't pick up on cues very well. I didn't know she wanted me to kiss her. "Sorry, I didn't know you wanted me to kiss you." I didn't even know she really liked me all that much. I don't really like her that much, but her eyes are the the most crazy violet blue. She drops her beer can and it roles under the Escort and then she grabs the front of my tee shirt in one agile move.
"Well duh!" is all she says before pulling me into a hard, hot, sloppy-wet kiss, driving her tongue into my mouth.
I freeze. She looks up to my face. The sulfur light from the parking lot lights catch in her mascara-framed eyes. "Well, aren't you just the shy one!"
I drop my beer and it roles under the car to join hers in the gutter.
The upshot of this, is that I'm thinking of writing a series of pieces based on this image, speculating as to its origins. It sort of becomes "found fiction" then, after all, although I'm thinking of throwing in some less-than-ficiton word things.
Next stop: a story of two vagrants who end up fighting over the beer. I've already got it mapped out; it is kind of like McTeague but without the doneky.
Labels: beer, fiction, flash, multimedia, picture, story
¶ 4:53 PM 2 comments
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