Angela: Fifteen Minutes Of Fiction

Miss Grady

I sighed quietly to myself. At least, I thought I was quiet... The man in the elevator turned and looked at me with a kind, but slightly puzzled, expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I've had a bad day at work."

"Things not going too well in the office?" He joked.

"Oh, no. I'm a substitute at Fresh Waters High. I think they officially hate me now. Being a substitute teacher is really quite a strain. If you're not too strict, they walk right over you. But on the other hand, if you try to do your job right, you get labeled as 'too harsh'."

The elevator stopped; the man apologized and politely excused himself by saying that this was his floor. I paused my tirade, nodded and smiled as expected, but in my head my thoughts roared on.

Pausing to take in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. "Sure, people think, 'You're a teacher. A professional. It shouldn't bother you what the students think.' Oooooh-ho, but it does! I don't want to be the bad guy. I hear what they say about me when I walk down the halls. 'Ew, no. That Grady lady is the worst sub to have, she'll give you busy work to do or make you read stuff.' Oh... because reading is just so horrible," I huffed angrily. "I wake up at 5 every morning to be ready for class by 6:30. A good half an hour before class starts. I wear uncomfortable professional clothes. I sit at a tiny desk and grade papers. Students who know me will look at me in contempt. The next day, the teachers whom I substitute for will write notes asking about missing papers and all I can say is that students don't turn in their assignments."

Read more...
Visit this author's page

This Is the Way the World Ends

This is the way the world ends:
Shrouded in sorrow.
A dreary night is ahead
There will be no tomorrow.

Is it fate, coincidence?
How cruel the world can be.
Its lies and fake assurances,
It took happiness away from me.

It was a day like any other;
Bright as days can go.
We took a stroll in the park,
Time seemed to pass so slow.

As he walked in front of me
Out onto the city street,
A car racing from the corner
Screeching against concrete.

I heard myself scream,
"Teddybear! Watch out!"
And, now, looking back
Something else I should have shout.

He turned and looked at me,
Here, time picked up pace.
I saw horrow and panic
I saw the sadness on his face.

Then, metal met flesh
And flesh met ground.
From my love,
Came not a sound.

This is the way the world ends:
No more will I ever hear,
The words "I love you."
From the one I hold so dear.

Visit this author's page

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern,

I am most certainly not happy with your product. Your company has wasted my time, money and energy with your horrible false promises. My strongest comment to you is this: Your product failed me even though I followed all of the instructions.

When I watched your commercial on the television, I was, at first, enthralled at the opportunity that was offered. I do admit that your product had been sent to my house with speed worthy of Hermes; however, when the package arrived at my door, the box had banged-in corners and suspicious looking stains.

Finally, when I opened your box and removed all the annoying packing peanuts, I followed all the set up instructions to a T and carried out all the proper steps. However, no matter what I did, your product failed me. Now, I'm a laughing stock to my co-workers and companions.

When I called your 24-hour question and answer hotline, they failed to supply answers. When I called your customer service line, I was on hold for almost half an hour. When I called the company office, all the lines were busy. I tried at least a dozen times. This is an outrage!

I am now sending, along with this letter, the package that I purchased for "three easy payments of 19.99" Your stupid workout video has failed me. Regardless of what the other customers said on the commercial, I did not lose a single pound. Your product is faulty, I say. FAULTY.

Sincerely,

Ann O'Beese Persunn

Visit this author's page

Streaking through the city of Syracuse

A long, long time ago, there was a king named Hiero. He ruled the kingdom of Syracuse. One day, he asked for a local goldsmith to craft for him a crown of gold.

The goldsmith as he was told. He made a beautiful crown and presented it to the king. The king was very happy. However, later, the king had a suspicion that the goldsmith cheated him and the crown was not made entirely of gold.

King Hiero called upon a man, Archimedes to solve the problem.

While he was thinking of a solution, Archimedes went to a public bath to relax. He filld a tub to the brim with water, took off his clothes, and got in. As he sat down, the water from the tub sloshed out. In his mind, he quickly figured out that he could use the same theory of displacing water to find out if the crown was made completely of gold. As he was thinking this process through, he noticed a distinct odor in the air. He turned around and was very surprised to see a family of very unhappy skunks. Apparantly, the water from the tub ahd spilled over and flooded into the skunks' abode. Angry, the skunks lifted their tails at Archimedes.

Immediately, the problem of the crown was pushed to the back of his head as the the poor man leapt out ot the tub, not even bothering to grab his clothes.

He ran out of the bath screaming, "You reek! Ah! ... You reek! Ah!"

The townspeople were too busy staring at the strange sight of a naked man running through the streets to hear him properly.

Visit this author's page

Not too much of a fantasy

"Grampy, will you tell me a story?" chimed a youngster as he got ready to go to bed.

"Sure," his grandfather replied as he grabbed a book of faerie tales off a shelf. "What should we read? Funny stories? Sad stories? Happy stories?"

"Mmm strange and mmmy...myt... magic creatures," said the grandson. "Like the ... sentiers... you read about last week."

He chucked. "Centaurs, AJ... mystical creatures named centaurs. Okay... let's see if we can find one I've never read to you before." He sat down and flipped through the pages slowly. "Say when..."

"Mmmmm stop!" He took the book away from his father and opened to the page they stopped at. He went back a couple pages to find the beginning of the story. There, he saw a creature he never saw before.

"Wowie Grampy... what's that?" He pointed at the gangly things on the page. "They look so tall and big."

"Oooh, those," he chuckled. "You know, some have claimed that these things actually existed at one point or another. Kind of like how the uh... Greek believed in centaurs."

His sat up and listened intently.

"These creatures are very odd. Other than the fact that they had similar body shapes, none of the creatures were alike. They prided themselves to be different. Some were small. Some were large. Some were black. And some... I've heard were even yellow. They lived in large numbers and depended on one another to survive. They aren't great predators. They don't have claws or biting jaws or horns or any of those things."

Read more...
Visit this author's page

The Worst Day Ever

It was the worst day in history. Really. It even said so on the calendar that hung in my kitchen. In big, bold, sharpie-fied letters. WORST DAY IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.

Allow me to explain. I'm superstitious. Very. And today is Friday the thirteenth. The unlucky one. (Yes, I'm well aware of the fact that sometimes, there are two "Friday the thirteenths").

That being said, I ransacked my bedside drawer for the arsenal of good luck charms I kept there. My blue rabbit's foot (unlucky for the rabbit but lucky for me!), a charm that was blessed by this one fortune telling gypsy I met at the fair (it was suppose to ward off evil but I figured bad luck was close enough), and a lucky penny I found with my birth year on it (no cool story there unfortunately.

I also went into my closet and took out my lucky sneakers, lucky socks, lucky shirt, and lucky pants. I even put on my lucky underwear (yes, I washed it).

After I had fully garbed myself, I dropped my charms in my pocket and headed down to breakfast... I had Lucky Charms cereal and some eggs, sunny side up.

When I left the house, I was surprised I was not accosted by the miniture poodle from the fiery pits of hell (my neighbor's yard) nor was I late for the bus. Happily, I assumed that luck was on my side and nothing could go wrong.

The rest of the day went by wonderfully. In first hour, we had a sub and watched a movie. My crush sat next to me during second hour and during lunch, the cafeteria served my favorite food. So far, nothing went wrong. But of course, all good things must come to an end. And it did, during fourth hour.

Read more...
Visit this author's page

Alfred, Maurice, and the Missing Keys.

Alfred was furious. Very furious. Everyone around him could tell that he had lost his keys. Yet again. ... Or that someone had stolen them. If that was the case, none of the workers were surprised. There was usually a lot of monkey-business involved. Alfread was so easy to tease, his poor vision ( he was very short sighted) and his old age made him an easy target in the establishment when his younger companions were bored.

Two workers that knew Alfred years back started to have a conversation about him in the lunch room.

"Did you hear? Alfred lost his keys again."

"Really," commented a woman as he bit into his sandwich. "Are you sure Maurice didn't steal them?"

"I'm not really sure and I don't want to find out," commented the man. "The last time I tried to solve his problems, he got mad at me and started throwing parts of his lunch. A banana hit me square in the face."

"Mmm this happens all to frequently. Next thing you know, he'll lose that little shiny red car he's so proud of."

"I don't want to be here when that happens. He'll tear the establishment apart."

Meanwhile, Alfred was indeed having a fit. He howled and ranted as if he were a five year old child who was deprived of his favorite toy. He searched everywhere. Even in his prized red car. His keys were no where to be found. He had turned and checked every stone. Every nook and cranny. They keys were no where to be found. The two workers from before had finished their lunch to witness Alfred ... again, throwing his lunch... at unexpecting passerbyers.

Read more...
Visit this author's page

The Woes of Working in the Toy Industry

Terry never could understand why Alex hated Christmas so much. Christmas was always a great holiday and Terry loved the atmosphere. The Christmas music, the smell of freshly baking cookies, the colorful decorations, the snow. He loved the reindeer and the giant Christmas tree, the wrapping and giving of gifts. He loved all of it. So one day, he accosted Alex during their lunch break with all the other workers.

"How's it going, Alex," he said as he slapped him on the back. The movement caused Alex his coffee to slosh out of the cup and onto the table and floor.

"Just... dandy, Terry. Just dandy," he mumbled as he tried to clean the mess.

"That's great to hear," said Terry as he took a swig of his eggnog, completely oblivious to Alex's sarcasm.

Alex wrinkled a nose and straightened his outfit. "How can you drink that stuff," he asked Terry.

"Easy. Like so," he said as he took another drink. "It's part of the whole Christmas thing anyways. Everyone knows that eggnog's especially for the holidays."

"Bah-humbug," mumbled Alex. "Another reason why I hate Christmas."

"Why do you hate it anyways," said Terry, placing emphasis on the "do".

"Well, let's see. For one, it's the busiest time of the year for us! I mean, we work throughout the year, but when Christmas comes around, we need to work even harder. I mean, all the toys... I do the same job every single day. If I don't supervise, I'm actually on the floor doing the same, boring job over and over and over again. 'Oh this toy car's tires need to be put on. Oh. So does this one! And this one! And this one!'"

Read more...
Visit this author's page

A Childish Fight

"Hey, we need to talk." He laughed. "Sorry, I've got two stalkers following me. I'm trying to get away." She could hear the wind blow. She knew he was outside.

"What's up?" She said. She had a horrible feeling, it's just one of those things that someone knows. "Just say it and get it over with."

"I can't do this anymore," he said quietly.

Yet, even though she expected this, she started crying. "Why? What can't you do?"

"This. It's too hard for me." He said calmly.

"So what brought this on?" she questioned him. "Just this morning you still said you loved me! What. Do you like someone else? Auburn maybe?"

"No. I don't like anyone else. I do still love you!" He shouted. "I just can't take this stress anymore. You're putting too much pressure on me!"

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore," she said, barely controlling her voice. "You've already made up your mind. Either way you're leaving."

"Hey. Don't guilt me! You're making me feel bad," he said.

"So what. What about how I feel," she shouted back, tears streaming down her face. "I'm hurting right now. You just want to quit? After two years? DON'T YOU WANT TO TRY ANYMORE?"

"You just don't get it do you?! I'VE BEEN TRYING. I'VE BEEN TRYING FOR THE LAST 2 YEARS!" He completely exploded.

Read more...
Visit this author's page

Lightbulb vs Sun

Artificial light
Illuminates the darkness
Granting one vision

A star shines brightly
Rays of light from the heavens
Life granting power

Visit this author's page