16 June 2009

Stories Never Written

I felt like a headhunter on facebook, a dog watching television, a possum who'd had too much caffeine. I was more than confused. I was lost.

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Despite her circumstances, she had a certain kind of dignity and style. The kids on the block called her the baggett lady.

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Since they had started dating, he'd gained 15 pounds. He could never tell her this, but each time they kissed he was hit with the strong smell of curry. By the time he left her place, he would be ravenous. They now knew him by name at the little Indian restaurant on 6th Ave.

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At first he thought she was open-minded. As it turns out, though, she simply had a nervous tick that made her nod excessively.

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Jerome had finally found proof of Obama's evil intent. He'd run the tape of his speech backwards and even though Jerome spoke no Arabic, he knew in his gut that once he got this translated, he'd be able to expose Obama's nefarious scheme. Just listening to his voice backwards gave Jerome the chills.

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Andy liked Lacrosse. He would like it better, though, if just once the girls would paint their faces and come running at each other from opposite ends of the field, their sticks held high like that awesome scene in Braveheart.

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Mind is just sound, Thurman reminded himself. Mind is just sound. Still, it was not a pleasant sound. He could not disagree with any of the points Judi was making about how difficult he was live with. There were times when he wished that he didn't even have to live with himself, so he could hardly fault her.

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He believed in aromatherapy. He knew just what smells calmed him and that was why he again found himself at Volare's, deeply breathing in the smells of pastas and pizzas, sauces and oils. The doctor had warned him of cholesterol but he knew that without the periodic calming effect of this trip, his blood pressure would be much higher.

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He knew next to nothing about investing. For the longest time he thought they were saying "foreign-one, okay?" Whoever dreamt up the plan to let every American manage his own retirement account had failed to consider how intimidating this might be for people who had resorted to taking mathematics for poets as a way to meet graduation requirements.

6 comments:

slouchy said...

Ron! These are great! I'm particularly fond of the "Mind is just sound" one.

Lifehiker said...

There's got to be at least one best seller in here! Don't let your inspiration go to waste. I think I'd vote for the aromatherapy theme - a love story with flavor!

Anonymous said...

personal favorite:
the possum on caffeine.
any chance of it being an albino?
~chesca

Mrs4444 said...

Visiting by way of a recommendation from our dear Milena. This post is a treat; just the thing for Friday Fragments! Don't be afraid to join in :)

Gypsy at Heart said...

They are all fabulous. The kinds of fragments that are so provoking image-wise that they are bound to stick in my head just like the "passive-agressive - should have studied jungian psychology" snippet from one of your earlier posts.

You should be a short story writer Ron, I want to read MORE of your imaginary characters.

Big Al said...

Ron,

Any chance in future blogs you can give us some bio stories from Maddie and Bernard's past? Any chance we can get to know a little bit more about their early years? What shaped them?