“There’s two sides to every coin. A head and tails. Winning and losing. Flipping a coin is everything. Every path, every choice, every decision is a coin flip. Those who avoid flipping, waste away. That’s why I admire you. Never afraid to take a risk.” He laughs spewing spit. “Yet, this is what got you in this position. You flipped to many tails. Too many tails. Some people flip heads and some flip tails. Trouble was going to find you, reaping what you owe.” His face falling, and the other. The other was laughing. The laugh echoes around your drums, traveling, never escaping. “Bang.”
Damage
He stood over, bat in hand, dripping. The man contemplates another swing. Looks over his pray one more time, and smashes, shattering me into little pieces.
Fields
He lays in the hayfields, stationary, baking in the sun rays. The lifting breeze carries hay away and him with it.
Food Fight Ep.6
David
Daisy was increasingly heavy with no sign of slowing down. Exiting the Staters, David inhales the scene, a dozen bodies spread across the parking lot. Gummy bears own the Staters parking lot. Two new jeeps occupy the lot, engines still humming, and colorless. Half the outlaws are breathing and half lie still. Bringing Daisy to the outlaws jeep,
“Lauren! Let’s go!” No response. The parking lot was absent of sounds except for the jeeps. “Lauren?” The nest was empty. The ice chest was absent, no Ramon either. The sound of impending trucks speeding to the lot. Daisy laying unconscious in the passenger seat. David had to make a choice. David speeds off in the jeep getting Daisy back to the camp.
David looked through each street, looking for a sign of Lauren. I can’t show up without her. Luke will kill me. The camp was up ahead and David throttles forward. A pink lawn chair rested in front of the camp, Laurens chair. David placed Daisy carefully, placing the key in his pocket. David holds the key to the sun. Heading back to the jeep and heads back toward Stater Bros.
Coffee Shop
She stood still, looking into the coffee shop. Hours passed until he finally got off work. He walked across the street where I was waiting and went into another’s arm. He held her close and walked into the night never looking back.
Food Fight Ep.5
Jenna
Walls shaking, barricades crumbling, the fort has fallen apart. Exiles have hit the camp outside the Walgreens. How did they know we were here? The cocky Exile’s stormed through the fort, no mercy, leaving no survivors. They didn’t see Jenna. Jenna laid beneath debris, leftovers of a nest crushing Jenna’s shin. Pain bites down and tears escape Jenna, praying the Exiles do not discover her. Citrus breeze relocates rocks and wood chips through out the rubble. Scent of blood and death overcame the citrus as quickly as it came. Bodies of Jenna’s friends were no longer breathing. Fredrick, Max, Rose. Different tears erupt through Jenna this time. Doing her best to quiet, a man with a large belly, stripped jacket, and p-shooter strapped to his shoulder began passing through the remains. The belly has two followers, two more Exiles. The other is a short woman, brunette messy hair, a green tank top tucked into high wasted grey pedal pushers finished with a golden steel belt. The woman wielded her p-shooter, hoping to find another victim. Defined figure, thin waste and long legs, without a flaw from a distance. The last Exile is a younger man, a worn grey thermal, tan cargo pants held up with a seat buckle. Weapon strapped to his back, maybe even a virgin. Up kept black chucks and a dull green scarf were this kids signature. Exiles crossed the rubble in direction of the medical supplies.
“No reason to kill everyone. Could of taken the path Lauren laid out for us,” The young blond kid said.
The girl smirked to this, “Going to have to man up Luke. Outlaws will kill you first chance they get and today we got them before they got us.”
“Still could have avoided this,” Luke responds. “If you didn’t want to take the path we could have waited for Lauren to lead this run.”
The girl did not like this. The name Lauren made her furious, “We don’t need Lauren to hold our hand. If your going to be such a bitch about it, don’t come next time.” She’s such a brute.
They were closer to the ruble concealing Jenna. The belly walks past with the brute, unconcerned with the rubble. Luke’s eyes were large and blue and filled with tears and sadness. Wiping his eyes, looked down, into Jenna’s eyes. Subconsciously grabbed his p-shooter, never removing it from it’s back strap. Luke notices the broken leg of Jenna and peers at the backs of the belly and the brute. Luke lets go of his p-shooter and removes a military grade knife from his ankle, drops it near, and smiles. He’s so handsome, his eyes are large blue stars. Luke trots after his Exile comrades and enters the Walgreens.
Jenna fidget, pushing the layers of debris off and halts before removing the matter above her shin. Blood leaks from the gash where a copper pipe has pierced the skin. She held the knife, considering. Placing the knife where Luke originally dropped it, resting her palms around the pipe. Two quick breaths and pull. Jenna bit her lip so hard it drew blood filling her mouth. Removing the flannel she was wearing, Jenna ties the thick clothing around her open wound and ties it, tight. Preparing herself, palms dark red wielding the knife, began gathering her good foot. Staggering and limping to a mild hop, heading in the opposite direction of the Walgreens. He helped me once, no guarantee he can save me from the brute. Light head and dizzy, Jenna swerving in the open street, dragging from death and looking for life.
Gameshow
Mark said he wants to be in a game show
Got tickets for one in Tokyo
We got on a plane
Mark was sipping champagne
Canceled and never even got a memo
Poetry
Poetry is not my strong suit
It is beautiful with no substitute
What am I doing
This is my undoing
I will sit here and wait for my lawsuit
Unlucky Stan
Stan stairs at the basement door, in horror. Through the door, the weak steps plunged deep into darkness. Stan flicks the flashlight to reveal a pool of floating slippers, clear containers containing various arts and crafts from Emily’s childhood, and a couple of unpaired socks floating in dark filthy water. Barbra must have left the washing machine overflow again. Stan knows what will happen if Barbra comes back and see the ocean developing in the basement. This fight seems worth avoiding even though it is her fault. Not going to tell her that.
Without his floaty, Stan ventures into the sea of forgotten. Empty Gain containers and fabric softeners floated across the current Stan was creating. Flashlight reveals the drowning aging sweatpants and old pair of tennis shoes being weighed down by a dung bell. More unpaired socks floating past Stan looking for their long lost love. Cotton fuzzes turning into dark clouds lost, without an exit. Family albums Barbra’s mother had given her last Christmas. The albums are filled with family members like her cousin Margaret, uncle Gregory, and great grandfather Tyler the Navy Seal. Stan remembers Tyler’s picture in full attire receiving a medal of honor from the Vietnam war. A bicycle with a frail basket and a flock of pink ribbons that Emily use to ride up and down the street when she was little. Emily use to take the bike to her friend, Tiffany, house down the block for sleep overs.
The water, up to Stan’s naval, and Stan is six feet high. The washing machine, spewing water, was indeed left open and continuously over flowing. Stan, subconsciously, searches and found the overhead electrical outlet far above the forming basement pond. Reaching for the knobs without moving underneath the water is unsuccessful. Twisting the knobs had no effect on the water and soon the entire basement will be submerged. Stan takes a deep breath and plunges under the water. Flashlight leading the way, looking for an alternate way to end this flushing nightmare. The Dyson is still under warranty and would need to be taken in, that’s for sure. Everything seemed to be plugged in, Stan wouldn’t know if something was in the wrong spot. Stan began adjusting the washing machine hose, loosening, and removing. The hole is small, but Stan figures something might be caught in the hole and be the reason the machine isn’t jumping to the next cycle. Stan burrows the top and takes another deep breath and heads back down. Placing his hand into the hole, the sensation of oil taking hold of his hand made Stan feel uneasy and pushed his arm in deep enough to cover his forearm. Stan notices the sudden shake in the washing machine. Spin cycle? Excited Stan jerked his arm out. The second attempt proved even less successful. Panic over takes and began flopping around like a circus gold fish. Air bubbles escape Stan a few at a time. His arm was stuck. Stan looks around, looking for anything that could help him escape. Nothing but the family album staring back at him. Stan felt heavy, cold, and alone. I wish I was you Seal.
Trainer Orange
The sky is clear blue, a dozen Spearow flew above. Tall pine, home to a wild Caterpie, thick wide trunks with a center hole. A child swing attached to a wide out reached branch from the pine. Franklin Walsh sat on the porch looking at the swing. He loved swinging, just new interest overcame. Now Franklin wants to begin his Pokemon adventure. Franklin just turned twelve and Red, his idle, was almost eleven when he started his adventure. It was time. Franklin clutched a white sphere with a red lining across the center and around the button. Franklin’s mother said she would give him his first Pokemon, yet, she’s not around much.
“Frank.”
“Yeah dad?”
“She’ll be here. No worries. She said it will be the coolest Pokemon.” That conversation happened a long time ago. It just dad and me. He doesn’t like Pokemon so much, just the little ones and the Caterpie that has taken shelter in the family tree. Franklin’s mom was a Pokemon trainer, a good one from the little he knows of her, and is always on an adventure.
Franklin didn’t want to wait. He recites the stories he’s heard of Red. Battling the rain storm, traveling to the distant lands, competing against the Elite Four. That’s my dream. I heard he was even in the Orange Island for a while. He was here and I missed him. The empty ball tightens around Franklin’s hands. He would never know. Franklin runs. The high grass isn’t far from his house. Or maybe to the docks for a water Pokemon. The tall grass near rustled. A Pokemon! Without a second though, Franklin hurls the Premier Ball towards the grass. The ball pops into the air and bright red light emits and absorbs into the ball. The Premiere ball button glowed red. The ball shakes once. Please. The ball shake twice. Please please. A third. Franklin holds his breath, watching. The red fades from the button and the ball ceases. Franklin, still as a Snorlax, watched the ball in awe. I did it.
“I did it,” Franklin said rushing to meet his new lifelong partner. Franklin’s father, erupts from the house and rushed to his side, fearing the worst.
“You used the Priemer ball? I thought you were saving that?” Franklin’s dad notices the red light eminating from the ball, “What did you catch son?” Franklin couldn’t respond and just held the ball. Finally, pushing the center button, the red beam of light returned and his friend emerged.
The Pokemon a short tail of berry red waves. Curls on the Pokemon’s head with strands reaching almost to her black nose. A skin color of brick-red and mud colored paws. Pointy outstretched ears, also mud colored, and a white fur underbelly. Her crocodile green eyes staring right back at Franklin. I’ve never seen a Pokemon so so beautiful.
“What is it dad?”
“That’s a rare Pokemon here on the island son. Can’t say I’ve ever seen one here. That’s a Vulpix.”
