The Valet

All he could remember thinking later was "Fuck! What the fuck!" And then the awful eternity, that must've only really have been a an instant, where he couldn't decide if he should run or stay put. He ran.

Over the screams, over the blaring sirens of emergency vehicles he could hear his breath, heavy and laboured and his feet slapping the pavement in his shiny black shoes. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He could taste the iron flavour of blood in his mouth as his lungs became over exerted. He wanted to tear off the bright orange jacket that constricted his movement but he couldn't do that without stopping, and the noise behind him did not make him want to stop.

The pain in his throat was becoming unbearable and the night air was causing his eyes to water, blurring his vision. He spied an alleyway, darted in and dove behind a dumpster. He clawed at the waistcoat while trying to keep his breathing quiet. That was when he noticed the dead-end.

Toes

That's the last I saw of her, those beautiful feet. My eyes were blurry with tears and my nose was streaming snot. My lungs hurt from the sobbing.

"It was a mistake, it was a mistake" was the only thing I could say.

I couldn't even look her in the eye. A tear splashed down on her middle toe. She took a half step back. Then turned and left.

It's been 20 years now. I never saw her again and if I try to remember her face, the face I fell in love with, all I see are those bright orange toenails.

Flickr story #3

I was four years old. I looked at the sign for a while, forming the sentence over and over in my head. Finally I decided on a course of action. I sat down and watched the step for more than an hour before falling asleep in the summer afternoon.

昨日の弁当

He looked down on on the perfectly formed Onigiri, the lotus root gently resting beside it. The croquette was crunchy when he tapped it with his chopsticks and he could tell that inside it would be soft and relenting. The sausage was an oddity, but even so he could smell that it would be completely flavorsome and juicy. Even the beans and the pickled daikon sat gently just waiting for him to eat them and he knew, he just knew, that these would compliment the other food in a way that would make him sigh with pleasure.

He reached down. His chopsticks wavered over the croquet, but instead he picked up the ume onigiri. As he bit into it the small rice ball the soft but sticky rice filled his mouth and the flavour of the ume was wonderfully sour. He began to cry as he ate. he couldn't help it. Once again the food was spectacular. His salty tears crashed down on the salmon onigiri. Strangely he hoped this would ruin the taste.

Flickr Story 1

As I said before we're doing this flickr story thing, here's my first one:



Muhammad sat in the dusty road. The afternoon breeze drifted past him, curling shapes in the brown earth.

He felt the warmth of the earth through his feet and the relative cool of the wall to his back. He closed his eyes and felt the wind caress his face like the girls had done years ago. While all was good now he knew this wind foretold a sandstorm that would soon envelop the city, as it did often at this time of year.

He opened his eyes again and spied the self-important business man; this man who had parked his car by Muhammad. Years ago, when the girls had caressed his face, he had also driven a car like this. Now he did little but sit and watch.

The man was a trader of some sort and argued over the price of his items with a storekeeper across the road. Muhammad quickly rolled to his left and, after deftly pulling a pair of cutters from his sleeve, pocketed the car’s Mercedes hood ornament. That might bring him enough for a small meal. He sat back and started to put his shoes on.

Sweet jesus balls!

Someone linked to this blog, now I'm gonna have to do some work!

Luckily Mike and I have just started another project so I'll have micro-ideas and stuff to put up here.

Also we're having a bit of fun with some friends doing some writing. One of the group picks a photo from Flickr's "interesting" page, and everyone has to come up with a brief (1-2 para) story.

I'll post my stories here.

I lay hardly moving on the floor. I couldn’t see anything; one eye had already swollen shut and I kept the other closed. I couldn’t feel anything except pain; in my head, my arms, my side. It even hurt to breathe, so I tried not to. I could hear though. But all I could hear was the heavy breathing of the man standing over me.

The man moved away. I heard him walk to the table, pull out a chair and sit down. I kept my breathing shallow and fought not to black out. I heard the flick of a lighter and then the noise of the man taking a heavy drag on a cigarette.

“Did’ya think I wouldn’t see ya?” His voice was deep but he couldn’t hide the nervousness behind it. “Who are you anyway?”

“No…one” I wheezed out past possibly broken teeth. I wanted to keep it short, but I knew straight away that that answer would get me another beating so I added, “det…ec…tive”.

“A dick, huh? Well I knew you weren’t no cop otherwise my knuckles would hurt more, heh” his voice hadn’t relaxed even with the joke. “So, why’re you following me Dick?

There were a lot of options available to me here. The truth might help or it could get me more punching. The main thing though, is that it wouldn’t get me paid. So I lied.

“A girl…paid me…follow you”

“A girl?” He sounded confused, “who, what’s her name?”

“She didn’t tell me” I had to get this guy out of my office and preferably with most of my ribs intact. “She…gave me a wad of money and told me to follow you for a couple of days…see where you went and stuff.”

The guy didn’t say anything. I could hear him dragging deep on the cigarette and playing with the lighter. I cracked open my good eye. He wasn’t that big. If he hadn’t jumped me I could’ve taken him.

He caught my eye and held it. “Blonde or Brunette?”

“Redhead, hot one too.” That was stupid. The guy got up walked over and gave me a giant boot. A flare of pain blasted away all of my senses. So much for unbroken ribs.

He leaned in real close. I could smell the smoke on his breath and feel the sweat drip from his face on to mine.

“Here’s what gonna happen, Dick. You’re gonna stop following me and start following the redhead broad, you got me?”

“Yeah”

“Good. I’ll be back in a week.” He stood up, finished his cigarette, walked over to the table and crushed it out. He walked to the door and took his jacket of the hook (I hadn’t noticed until now), I figured that he was far enough away to ask.

“Pay?”

He looked back across the room at me. I expected anger but he looked humoured instead.

“Pay, yeah ok. $500 should do it right?” I nodded. $500 was twice as much as it would’ve cost; this guy had no idea. “Good, good. You find out where she hangs out and who she’s with, ok? Tidy yourself up a bit first though, heh. Oh and her name is Hannah” He turned and left and I sunk into sleep.

My dreams were fitful. They were filled with images of a redheaded woman whose face I couldn’t see no matter how I tried and then a leering face that stank of cigarettes. I woke up 10 hours later. I stared at the ceiling for a while.

I had made this woman up as a cover, now it turned out she existed and I had to find her.

I sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a bagel. I had to leave the bagel uneaten; my teeth were still busted in. But the coffee was good it smoothed my mind out and I was able to plan.

The guy was Ray Dreyton. Tony “Bones” had paid me $100 to follow him. Tony thought Ray was sleeping with his wife. Tony was wrong. Ray was sleeping with a lot of people’s wives but not Tony’s. This was good for me; I could tell Tony that Ray was clean and then earn even more money looking for the redheaded Dame.

Unfortunately, even though Ray woulda had a dozen girls none of them were redheads. By the look of things he preferred blondes. I had no leads. So I had to go where I always go when I’ve got no leads…the Savoy.

The Savoy isn’t probably what you’re imagining. This is the “North City Savoy”. The Savoy is run by a guy named Tom. Tom bought the bar thinking that this neighbourhood was on the way up, he was very wrong. But all of the waiters still wear tuxedos and it’s’ still the best place for a Martini in the city. It’s not only the best gin joint you ever visited, it’s also the best place for information.

I do work for Tom every now and again without payment, in return he passes on any info I might need. Anyone who’s worth finding will, at some time, pass through the Savoy.

Tom had an office behind the main bar. He was talking to someone when I showed up so I waited outside and had a smoke with the doorman. The door to Tom’s office opened and a harrowed looking little man scurried out. Tom stood in the door and watched him go; he saw me, smiled and motioned me in.

“What can I do for you Gary?” Tom took a seat behind his desk; he was always straight to business. He may have come here as a property investor but he knew how to run a business in this part of the city; “Anything to do with your face?”

“I’m looking for a woman. A redhead named Hannah; she might be associated with Ray Drayton.” When I said Ray’s name, Tom’s face shifted slightly, then he replaced it with a smile.

“A broad did that to you?” He lit a cigarette, “what’d you do? Forget to pay her?”

“Ray did this to me. I was following him for Tony Bones. That job’s finished, now Ray wants me to follow this woman, Hannah. ‘Cept I don’t’ know where she is to even start following her.”

“Ray Drayton huh?” Tom looked at his cigarette for a while and then at my face again. “He came by the other day…he was, ah…”

“That’s ok Tom, I understand how business goes,” and I meant it. Despite the pain I was in I managed a smile. “So you know anything about this redhead?”

Tom leaned back in his chair. “What’d you say her name was? Hannah?” I nodded. Tom took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. “A woman came in the other night. Redhead. Rich too. I’d never seen her before but a lot of people in the bar obviously knew her.”

“Who?”

“The top guys. A few of them left, and in a hurry, trying to look like they weren’t in a hurry.”

“She sat down and guys started coming over and talking to her. She didn’t say much, just nodding or smiling mainly. Actually now I think about it Ray was there. Yeah, he walked up to her and gave her a piece of paper. She looked at it said something to him and he walked out.”

“What happened after that?”

“She spoke to a couple of other guys and then got up and left.”

“Do you think she was setting up a score?”

“I dunno, she coulda been setting up anything or she coulda just been taking phone numbers.”

“And you’d never seen her before?”

“Sorry Gary.”

“That’s ok. One last thing though…what’d she drink?”

“Ha! Bellinis. A nice drink that I don’t usually serve, but she said she was happy to wait while I sent one of the kitchenhands to get fresh peaches.”

So I still had basically nothing. Tom’s info was helpful but it still didn’t get me any closer to finding this mystery woman. She was obviously important to a lot of the players in town, but why. Actually that didn’t matter, I just had to find her, Ray didn’t ask for her job description. Then I got lucky.

I went to Tony’s place to tell him about Ray. Tony just handed over my money and was shaking my hand when the back door of his office opened. One of his goons walked in.

“She’s here bo…”

“He knows” a red head strode past the goon. “Tony knows I’m always on time.” It had to be her. She had shoulder length dark red hair and wore a beige suit. She was slender but strode across the room like a prizefighter. This woman was all business, there was no candy coating.

“Hannah”, Tony said, “I was just finishing up with Gary here, he did some work for me”

I tipped my hat. She looked me up and down quickly, taking me in with a single glance before turning back to Tony. All business.

“You also have business with me. The delivery didn’t make it when you said it would.”

“Yeah but I …”

“But it did make it, which means you aren’t in my bad books yet,” she let the last word hang. She turned her head slightly towards me without taking her eyes off a visibly shaken Tony. “Leave.”

My legs reacted before my brain registered the word.

I waited for her outside. Her car was parked in the alleyway so I waited in the street round the corner. She came out of the building and the door of the car opened, a huge figure climbed out of the drivers seat. It was roughly man-shaped but moved wrong; and it looked blurry, my eyes didn’t seem to be able to focus on it. Hannah spoke to the dark figure, briefly and it went inside Tony’s office. Hannah walked towards her car and then looked straight at me.

I should’ve run. I should’ve just taken to my heels and never looked back, never returned. Instead I moved from my hiding place towards her.

Because this is supposed to be my "creative" blog I think I'm gonna try to add something everyday. That way I'll stay in that "mode". As such I'll try to add small things like these six six-word stories:

• Jesus returns to very little fanfare
• Long year, no end in sight
• "Cheaters never prosper". I changed that.
• Earth lay in ashes, I survived.
• So many happy endings, none mine
• Delicate handling was needed for...blast!
  

9.05am

People begin streaming from the Ministry of Defence building. They calmly walk to the evacuation point while fire alarms blare above them. Various uniforms are visible in the crowd: army, navy, airforce. Some are more decorated than others.

9.18am

Fire wardens in day-glo jackets stand outside and score their evacuation. Sections of the crowd have "evacuated" to nearby cafes.

9.26am

The crowd is told they can re-enter the building with their safety assured. As they shuffle in and stand waiting for the elevator nobody notices the one man (with no uniform) who is walking out of the building.

The day began like all the others, with the cat pawing at his face and purring madly. The cat, Jedi, has an internal clock that is set to five minutes earlier than the alarm. He’s just lucky he’s cute.

Jedi is also a large cat and his weight on Hadyn’s chest eventually forced him to get up. Amy murmured as she rolled over and went back to sleep. Hadyn managed to stay quiet as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, a purring Jedi circling his feet. A sullen Hermes, the other cat, sat waiting in the hallway and, as was the cats’ tradition, they tussled while Hadyn mildly cursed them under his breath.

Sleep had been at a premium recently as the people living in the flat downstairs had been playing loud music every night of the week sometimes until well after midnight. Hadyn’s curses for “them downstairs” were anything but mild. Thumping bass from bad music is not the sort of thing one needs coming through the floorboards at 1am on a Wednesday morning.

Hadyn fed the cats and showered. Amy was still asleep and stayed that way through the entire morning ritual. When Hadyn was finally ready to leave for work, bedecked in iPod, cheese-cutter cap and bowling jacket, Amy was just awake enough to kiss him goodbye. Hadyn was feeling generous and tucked her in, even though this meant she’d sleep in and only arrive at work just before nine.

The walk to work was better than usual. Wellington harbor was flat and still and the rowers were out training. Hadyn read the poetry art again as he walked past, the line about “men working in offices no bigger than elevators” always caught his eye.

The iPod was also being kind with it's random song choice. This day might not be so bad, he thought. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket.

[that's were I'm ending the first one, sorry]

WTF is this?

This blog has "existed" for a while now, but I've not figured out what for yet. Now I've got it.

This is my new creative blog. Every day (or at least that is the current plan) I will and a new micro story to the blog. It could be a six-word-story, it could be a couple of "pages", it could be fiction, it could be an essay, it could be a weird mix of both.

Sometimes in these fictional realities I will use people from my real life. If I do they will be complete fictionalisations. For example one of my friends may be depicted as a mad scientist or a murderer or a pressed-flower collector. Please know that I'm just using them as characters (also I'm not going to be that harsh on them).

Also, I'd like people to add to the stories in the comments. What happened to Bill after the car crash? I didn't write about it but maybe you see him traveling to the French Rivera to meet a beautiful plastic surgeon who he has a desperate affair with or perhaps he went home and ate chips. Those bits can be up to you.

Finally, note that anything I put up here is subject to the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 New Zealand License. This means you can recreate bits of my stuff but you must link back to me and you can not make any money off my work. Also I maintain my moral rights to the work.

Now let's get to writing...

UPDATE: I forgot to mention, some of the stories will be linked others will stand alone. I'll let you decide which is which