Fillet

Gasping for air, he turned, flipped, spun and rotated. But nothing. This immense feeling got to his head; he can no longer see straight, his body was wracked with pain and yet he kept on trying. He flapped about with no success or change in his favor.
He lay on the deck, no water, no escape nor means of survival. He paused at the shining of the sun that was burning through his soul. Is this the end? Am I to no longer wander the waters with careless ease? Am I to no longer caress the feelings that sneak up on me and bring me joy as I swim the seven seas? Or at least this particular patch of river…. It doesn’t matter what I want now. I am at the mercy of this brutal world we live in and little do I expect.
He is lifted and thrown into a warm white cylinder where he is to find nothing but grief.
What could I have done that would cause such a disgraceful act of cruelty upon me? Why am I to see this? Why am I to endure every moment as if it where that which brings my end? He lifted out and dropped on a board, he laid still, his life oozed onto the wooden surface, staring into the sun as it takes the little spirit within him. Pressure came on his body. The blade is swung and now no water sun air or fire could bring him back.

Appareil-photo

Wings spread apart, the sun gleaming through the tips of the feathers that make such a marvelous creature. The water swirling about as each motion it makes through the meadow brings the grass to a resting position when its motioned by nature to caress the water as it meets the sunset. He focuses and takes a bow, a bow that will affect his life to greater predilection from those who count on him, those who seek his true feelings, the feelings that bring each and everyone of them closer and closer to the truth, the truth that lays beneath each leaf, each puddle and tree. And as every object in nature, they cease, but before they do he captures their image when in full bloom of splendor, and that’s what motivates his bow; the mere glorification in great extent of the magnitude of each piece. Each piece that define what he considers the masterpieces of all creation, and the gift of heaven he has, the chance to capture each, but not every, the splendors of life.

Pumpernickel

The bag slides across the counter, immediately Tracey comes into the kitchen to only find Jake taking a loaf as he places a mug in the microwave
“Oh hey Tracey”,
He examines her striped soccer uniform; the blue and white sox that reach her knees, the black shorts that have two stripes running across the sides up into her hips, and her shirt, a navy blue and cyan banded short sleeve shirt that match her eyes in a heavenly manner. At that moment she goes and grabs a loaf.
“I heard of what happened to your car” she says,
“yea, what a bummer eh” he responds.

Earlier that day when Jake was headed for school a motorcycle crashed into his passenger side of the vehicle causing a dent on the door and a broken window.
“So how are you feeling?”
She questions him as she examines his tanned skin that lay below a red jersey and a cap, she notices a red dot above his right eyebrow,
“is that a cut? Are you ok?” she instantly asks.
"oh it’s nothing I’m ok” is his response.
As she heads for the fridge for some orange juice Dan comes in.
“Jake my man, what’s up?”
as he reaches over the counter for a loaf of bread.
“Dude what happened to your car? Some rumors about a broken arm where going around school today”,
Jake greets him then opens the microwave and takes out his tea.
“no way man, nothing but a busted car, that’s all”,
“Hi Dan”
Exclaims Tracey, still holding the juice carton as she takes a bite out of what’s left of her slice of bread, he looks at her with zestful eyes. Jake bites his lower lip with remorse. According to him Dan was the ladies man, and Dan knew that; even though he already had a girlfriend, he still fooled around.
“So what did you guys do at Ms. Worthsteins class today? Jake interrupts.”
"Oh the usual dreadful math book work and ridiculous packets”
Was Dan’s answer as Tracey serves two cups of juice.
Jake takes a sip of his tea and heads for the living room grabbing another slice on his way out. Dan and Tracey follow. The TV goes on. Each of them seated on separate couches and at that same moment Jake’s mom arrives with grocery bags hanging from both arms and the dog burst in a bark as he ascends from the second floor after hearing her call out
“guys, I’m home!”.
Dan, Jake and Tracey remain seated as they watch a cell phone commercial rant about its new features.
“Piece of junk” exclaims Dan.
“Got it last week and the screen is already busted”.
Tracey giggles and Jake smiles in amusement at his remark,
“Nothing ever lasts with you ‘Danny’ ”.
Jake imitates his friend’s old girlfriend who called him in such a way.

'Courthouse'

The bailiff inclined bringing forth the restraining order. The nymph like gal seated quietly with her eyes brimming. I found myself gawking. I don’t see a reason as to why my father brings me here, and for once I consider one reason to stay and not walk out and stand by the vending machines near the restrooms. I gaze upon the defendant: I see him bringing his hands closer to his face and flinch as his lawyer whispers something to his ear. Whatever he said I do not know, but his scowling expression defines a little.
The judge catches my attention, seated high above like some sort of deity, I take a sight of the folder she is dangling, on the cover, big red letters I find illegible. The judge seated with a cold dead stare, I see her somewhat cherubic like, it may sound clichéd but to me she’s a geek. Up stands the defendant I hear contrition in his voice. You see him look upon the plaintiff as if it where a quirk of his. She takes a glimpse at me and I make a consensual nod, but all I see is doubt and sorrow. Courts adjourned. I am destined to labor for the truth within her deep green eyes.

'Empathy'

As he walked into the room he closed the door and found himself to his chair, bringing the chair closer to the desk he pulled out a plain white sheet of paper and his favorite pen, flicked the lamp on and began…

So close but yet so far
I long for who you are,
Your every look of joy
Proves me right I am your boy,

With every step you take
I stand right behind,
You’re the only one living in my mind,
Seems like you just want to be
But baby don’t you know me,

I am here for you
And that’s just what I do,
I am here to serve you and love you every single day,
And to listen to every little word you say,

Then paused, brought to mind his intentions for the song and her reactions to it; but thought to himself he was not brave enough and what if she didn’t like it. what if she got mad at him for sending it? Then again what if he signed it anonymously? It seemed like a solution; she could read and judge it. Maybe even share it with her friends and saving himself the embarassment; yet he knew he would have to come forth someday and tell her that he wrote it. But only after he knew she liked it, but what if she would judge him for not signing it in the first place? Or what if she found it distasteful and threw it away? If he mentioned it to her she would be upset. Exhasperated, he stood up and gazed out the window into the sky. The moon and stars shined above, and he wished for courage, for the bravery it took to go up to her and reveal his true feelings, his emotions, his dreams; to share every day with her, to comb her hair with his fingers, to stroke her cheeks oh so gently and show her he was hers. But instead he grabbed the letter crossed it out and threw it into the trash can; he knew that whatever he felt, she was not to see.