The Christmas Boots

 

The lone boot lay abandoned in the median of the busy intersection. Few people spared it a glance as they hurried about their day; the holiday was approaching. Homelessness was rampant in the city. No doubt it was just the cast off of one of the many vagrants who occupied that slender piece of concrete hour after hour, day after day.

One man cursed under his breath as he cut the turn too close and the boot caught under his tire, dragging along for a moment before breaking free and bouncing into the center lane. The next car swerved around it and then traffic resumed it's steady pace as cars sped over it.

It was so covered in dirt and filth it was impossible to tell what color it might have formerly been. Even before being run over, it was almost unwearable. The uppers were clearly pulling away from the sole in many places, the laces were completely gone and it was essentially held together with strips of dirty duct tape.

All the Little Things

It was quiet. Too quiet. I’d become accustomed to the patter of little feet following behind me, of constantly looking around my own feet to make sure I wasn’t about to step on her, to seeing her curled up in one of her many beds, to her snores and squeaky yawns, to impatient yaps when I didn’t let her back inside fast enough, to her theatrical spins and running about harum scarum as I prepared her food. It was too quiet. But she was everywhere I looked. From the beds still scattered about, the blankets she loved to burrow into, the few toys that she never played with on the ground, the gate across the hall to keep her from wandering, the stairs she needed to get on the bed. She was everywhere and nowhere. The hole she left behind was cavernous. And now here I sit, alone, wishing with all my heart that dogs’ lives weren’t so short and what I would have given to have more time.

Last Call

Uncertain if I'll pursue anything with this, but here's a very short blurb that I came up with a little while back.

She viewed it all through a blur, the edges of her vision slowly growing darker until it all faded to black.

She stood on the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. An old security officer wandered by, offering her a smile.

"Off to somewhere exciting?" he asked her.

"Yes, I'm finally getting out of here," she told him, a smile stretching across her plump face.

"Where to?"

She shrugged. "Wherever the train takes me. As long as it's away from here."

The old man nodded sagely. "Mmm, the greatest kind of adventure, where your destination could be anywhere and nowhere all at the same time, where time means nothing and the possibilities are endless."

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir, exactly. I've always wanted to see the world and now I'm taking that chance."

She stood up straighter as the train appeared in the distance, gleaming black and gold. 

"Here it comes!" she cried, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

It slowly puffed into the station, groaning slightly as it finally stopped. The doors opened, but no one got off. Instead there came the call of "All aboard!"

The young woman turned to the old man with a grin, face shining, eyes bright with excitement.

"Well, sir, this is it! I'm off!"

"Best of luck, my dear. Go see that world."

With a little wave, she bounded up the stairs of the train. A few moments later, the train pulled out again, steadily gathering speed until it was a mere dot in the distance, headed due west into the setting sun.

The old man smiled sadly before turning around and making his way back to station house.

The Darkness

Darkness. She was intimately familiar with the darkness that lived inside her, that sometimes seemed to inhabit her very soul. Some days she embraced it in all its horror and other days she rejected it with a strength borne of desperation. For years there had been a balance, but a year of changes had upset that very delicate balance and more and more she found herself giving into the darkness.

The darkness was her enemy. No matter how well she knew it of that she was always aware. But the darkness was seductive too and while she was aware of the danger, sometimes she didn't care. Because the darkness promised release, an eventual freedom from pain, freedom from her own mind. And as time continued its inexorable march, that freedom became more and more appealing. And the darkness took advantage of that, sinking its claws into her, infecting her with its poison. Soon it would consume her.

Sleep eluded her that night, her unfocused and scattered mind allowing the darkness to creep in. Carefully, it reached out its tendrils and began to gather those scattered thoughts, twining them together in a way that fit its purpose. Unaware of what the darkness was doing, of why her thoughts had begun to clarify, she found herself thinking back over the day, criticizing her every word and action. Why was it so hard for her keep her mouth shut? Why couldn't she be more competent in her job? Why were words so difficult sometimes? Why was she so useless? Around and around she went, sleep drifting farther and farther away as the darkness weaved its malicious web, drawing her deeper and deeper into its embrace. The internal vitriol she spewed at herself ate away at her, driving her to despair. It took her a long time, too long, to finally sense the web closing in around her mind. She began to fight it but those tendrils of darkness had wormed their way deep into her very being and this night she would not win. When sleep at last claimed her, pulling her free from the darkness and granting her mind the respite it so desperately needed, it found her more fractured than ever, the damage done by the darkness bordering on the irreparable. But there was still a spark of resilience and she had the strength to continue fighting the darkness, at least for a little while.

Hope

Hope is a delicate, fragile thing. Like a crystalline object, so easily shattered. Or a spark so easily extinguished by a breath of wind. It was this spark, one that had remained stubbornly alive for months, that she hoped to destroy once and for all.

"Um, I don't know how to say this, but, I like you. I don't want this to affect the way that we work together or anything, but I wanted to tell you."

Those first words came out in a jumbled rush growing more measured after the confession had been uttered and ending limply.

"What?"

He sounded genuinely surprised. She'd thought he might have had an inkling of her growing feelings, but evidently not. Or he was a good actor.

She repeated those three simple words. They were harder to get out this time because she knew what was coming.

"Thank you for your honesty but, I don't feel as strongly. I like you as a friend and a co-worker though. And don't worry about work, this won't affect that at all."

His words were spoken kindly, gently. She chanced a glance up and made eye contact. She didn't know what she expected to see. Judgment, disgust, pity. But all she saw was compassion and understanding. She knew he'd been where she was now and it was obvious to her that he didn't want to cause her any pain.

"I understand and thanks for your honesty."

The air hung between them awkwardly for several moments before he turned away.

"See you on Monday."

"Bye."

She watched him walk away, waiting for the relief that it was over to wash over her. Instead waves of pain and grief threatened to overwhelm her. She hurried to her car and let the tears come. Why did it hurt so much? She knew he was going to reject her, they always rejected her. She'd only been actively interested in four men in her almost thirty years. The first was the only one she'd dated, the other two had rejected her and now he had too.

What was it that made her so undesirable? So unlovable? No, she didn't fit society's standard of beauty in the slightest, but were men truly so unable to see past that? Was her appearance always going to be the roadblock to finding love and happiness?

Long minutes passed as the tears kept coming. This was wrong. She'd only confessed her feelings because she'd known he would reject her. She'd been certain that once that happened, her feelings would fade and that silly spark of hope would finally die. But there it was, a stubborn light that continued to burn.

Time, she thought, her breathing steadying as the tears slowed, all I need is time.

Four months later she bid him good night after another long day of work. She glanced over at him as she prepared to back out of her parking spot and head for home. His eyes were glued to his phone, he never glanced up. He never did.

A familiar pain in her chest reminded her of her unrequited feelings. Confessing had done nothing to extinguish them, she still liked him and he was still uninterested. How pathetic was that.

As she turned out of the parking lot, she wondered how long those feelings would continue. She'd never experienced anything like it. She'd gotten over her previous rejections well enough, but she couldn't kick this one. She turned on her music, anything to distract her, to pull her out of her thoughts.

Time, she thought for the umpteenth time, all I need is time.

Hope seems like a delicate, fragile thing. Like a crystalline object, appearing easily shattered. Or a spark which can be so easily extinguished by a breath of wind. But sometimes that crystalline object is hard as diamond and sometimes that breath of wind sets the spark ablaze.

The Virus

It was a beautiful spring morning, the sun shining, birds singing, trees blooming, in short, a perfect day. But few people seemed to take notice of its beauty. Everyone bustled about, their minds on all the things they needed to do, no time to stop and smell the proverbial roses. All except one young woman who gazed about her with delight as she walked through the grocery store parking lot. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lifting her face to the sun as a gentle wind played with her hair. It truly was a glorious day. After months and months of cold and snow, this was the first truly warm day of the new year. Behind her, an older woman suddenly sneezed.

The next day, the news began reporting on the sudden increase in allergies that seemed to have gripped the nation. And then people started dying. The young woman who had so enjoyed that beautiful spring day was among the first to die. An autopsy revealed an aggressive new virus as the cause, a virus that was totally unknown. The medical and scientific world threw themselves into discovering what it was and where it came from, but the more they studied it, the more questions they had. It started out as a kind of respiratory infection before spreading to every other body system and wreaking havoc until the body could take no more and simply shut down. Once diagnosed, a person had only weeks to live at best, days in the worst cases. But what made it so deadly was that a person could remain asymptomatic for weeks or even months before becoming symptomatic as they inevitably did. Weeks and months that a person could still be transmitting the virus.

What began as mild alarm soon grew into full on panic as the virus spread across the globe. Within weeks it had invaded every continent except Antarctica and within months there were cases in every country. The drastic measures that countries began to adopt seemed to do little to stop the spread. Occasionally the number of positive cases would slow, but they never stopped.

For the next two years, the virus ravaged the world. Every time scientists thought they had found a way to contain it, it would evolve again and the number of sick and dead would skyrocket once more. Mass graves became normal as the death toll increased and cemeteries and morticians became overrun with the dead. And as things worsened, the dead were left to decay where they died in their homes. There was no one left to collect the bodies, it was every man, woman, and child for his and herself.

But as the human population declined, other life flourished. Without the threat of humans, many endangered species began to slowly recover. Forests began to grow and spread, slowly swallowing up villages, towns, and eventually cities. Buildings began to crumble, the revived plant and animal life speeding up their decay. The skies above once smog covered cities began to clear as factories ground to a halt and cars remained permanently parked. Five years after the outbreak, human life had ceased to exist on planet Earth. Animals and plants ruled the once thriving cities abiding by the only laws that remained: the laws of nature.

A young fawn followed its mother from the ruins of an old parking structure, lifting its face to the warm sun. It was a beautiful spring morning, the sun shining, birds singing, trees blooming, in short, a perfect day.

The Girl

If you know me at all, then you know that I am not a fan of zombies. I think the whole concept is seriously overused and just not that interesting. However, more recently I heard of a zombie movie that I thought I might actually like. It's called Train to Busan in case anyone is interested. Anyway, the general story is about a father trying to save his young daughter during a zombie apocalypse. Obviously there's more that happens, but that's kind of the bare bones of the plot. In reading about this movie, I suddenly thought, wouldn't it be terrifying if the kids were the zombies, not the adults. That's not an aspect that's been hugely explored, at least not as far as I'm aware; I'm not a zombie aficionado. And so the idea for this story was born. I think it's pretty clear that it's not complete, but I wanted to share what I have so far to see if people thought it was worth continuing and just get some general opinions. So please, read and comment, constructive criticism is very much appreciated as always.


It started with one child, a single child living in the countryside outside of Berlin. A smart, sweet child who suddenly disappeared. After days of frantic searching, she was found at last covered in dirt and mud and blood. Naturally her anxious parents rushed her to the hospital, but it was soon determined that there was nothing physically wrong with her. The blood was not her own. As the days passed, her parents came to realize that their sweet little girl was gone and in her place was a primitive, increasingly violent and terribly strong creature that began to attack anyone who came near. The doctors were utterly perplexed by her condition. Months passed with little progress in treating her. Their one discovery was that although she behaved primitively, she was almost disturbingly intelligent, certainly far beyond that of a normal eight year old. It was several more months before they began to notice that the girl was not hostile towards the other children on the floor when they passed by her window. If any adult passed by too closely, she would violently attack the window, smashing at it with her fists, her eyes wild. But when a child passed by, she simply watched them intently, almost longingly, sometimes even reaching out to them. The doctors decided to perform an experiment of sorts. The children on that floor had long been given up on by their parents and other family members and accidents did happen from time to time. If anything went wrong, it could easily be covered up.