Saturday, May 28, 2011

Brothers Part 2: Alex

The second part of Brothers. You can read the first part Here. Let me know what you think, and as always, buy the book.

-K

Brothers Part 2:
Alex

It feels like razors, and Alex curses at himself for not doing this beforehand, at the bar. Of course, the remembers he had gone at the bar, twice, but his bladder just couldn't hold that much liquid. Plus, it isn't like he had stopped drinking when the bar closed down, or when he had said good-bye to Matthew. It was only two in the morning, and to go home now, to go to sleep now, would just bring tomorrow faster. And, well, fuck that.
He hears the horns of the train first, then notices the bright light coming his way, urging him to finish pissing and get off the tracks. It had always been a game of chicken, to piss on the tracks while a train came. One of those things that starts as a kid and you never let go.
Alex steps away from the tracks, moments before the train goes by. He walks over to his pick up truck, and grabs the bottle of Jamison he has in the bed of the truck. Alex twists off the cap, and gives himself three good swallows of the whiskey, before setting it down. He leans on his truck, and looks off into the city.
“Never changes, does it, Tuck?” Alex says to himself. He smiles wistfully, thinking of the nights spent here at the tracks. This is where Alex and Tuck would sneak off to at night, stealing some booze from Tuck's older brother, hanging out and drinking. They' watch the trains go by, and stare at the Domino sugar sign. They'd talk about movies, music, life, but most importantly, girls.
“I just want an artist girlfriend, y'know, the kind of girl who will show me some sketches she did. No one else will get to see it, but me.” Alex says then as he does now. He turns his head to the left, and Tuck is giving him goofy grin.
“Sketches of what?”
“Doesn't matter. Anything. It'd be like having a girlfriend who is a singer, and she sings you a song she's been working on. Just something special, just for me.”
Tuck shakes his head, taking a drink of the Natty Light in his hand. In the now, Alex takes another swig of the whiskey, as he listens to Tuck speak back then.
“I just want a sweet girl. Soft hair, soft eyes...”
“Soft lips, eh?” Alex says, cutting him off. Tuck's face goes red for a split second, just long enough for Alex to see it. “You still haven't, huh? What happened last week, The Eastman girl was all over you, and she'll do anything/”
“I Don't know. We made out a bit but...it didn't feel right.” Tuck says, sheepishly. Alex smiles at him.
“You want the perfect girl, but there isn't such a thing, trust me. Look at everything I went through with Delilah.” Alex had said then, bitterly. Now, though, he can barely remember the girl. He isn't quite sure her name was even Delilah.
“Look who's talking, you want to be some girl's muse!” Tuck threw up his arms in mock exacerbation, as he walked towards the track for his own game of chicken.
“Don't get hit, Tyler would kill me.”
Alex finishes off the Jamison, and throws it as hard as he can. Somewhere in the distance, he hears the glass shatter. It's a comforting sound.
Tuck stands on the tracks, unzips, and starts to take a piss while a train comes in the distance. He looks back at Alex, who is finishing off the cheap beer, and smiles wide.
“Look ma!” Tuck yells at Alex, raising his arms, “No hands!”
“You're the best.” Alex says to Tuck, then and now. Only this time, he can't bring himself to laugh. Alex closes his eyes, counting to ten, trying to hold back the tears. Keep them below, keep them on the inside. He looks at one more train go by before he hops into his truck and leaves, going anywhere but home.

-
Alex is sure this is the right house, but there is only one way to find out. What is the worse that could happen, right? So he rings the doorbell at the brick townhouse, twice. He hears movement inside, so he readies himself, trying to look decent. As the door opens, Alex is sure he is at the wrong house.
“Alex...what the hell?”
He is at the right house, Audrey's house. She stands in the doorway, wearing a housecoat and an unhappy stare. Her brunette hair is shorter than he remembers.
“Oh, hey, I was in the neighborhood.”
“It's three in the morning, Alex.” She says calmly. He expected anger, or perhaps frustration. But the calm actually makes him more nervous.
“I like your hair.”
“You smell.”
“Booze and train tracks. Can I come in? It's freezing out here.” He says, already making himself in side. She doesn't protest, this isn't the first time Alex has come to her door in the middle of the night.
Audrey's house is perfectly neat, nothing out of place. Alex instinctively takes off his shoes as he walks in. He may be drunk, but he isn't stupid, and would rather not get a tongue lashing from OCD Audrey.
He walks over to her couch, and sits down as Audrey walks to the kitchen. Alex looks around, noticing the little changes from what he remembers. Most of the missing stuff is the things Alex had gotten her, unsurprisingly.
Audrey walks back into the living room, and hands Alex a glass of water, before sitting down next to him. She gives him a concerned look.
“You're drunker than usual.” She says, flatly. This hadn't been the first time since they'd broken up Alex had showed up here. They didn't always have sex, but they'd sleep together. They were each other's safe place.
“Bad night.”
“Are you going to be okay for tomorrow?” Audrey asks. Alex hadn't realized but it makes since that Audrey would be at the funeral.
“I'll manage.” Audrey reaches over and holds Alex's hand. He looks at her, teary-eyed. “You know the worse part? Seeing him tomorrow will be the first time I've seen him in almost a year. My best friend, since I was a kid, and I don't see him for a year. Until his funeral. What the fuck kind of person am I?”
Alex looks at Audrey, pleadingly, but she has no answers for him. All she can manage to do is hold his hand.
“Her name was Marie, she had...the most amazing green eyes and...the softest smile. Tuck loved her, so much.”
Alex notices the look Audrey is giving him, and shakes his head, muttering how it wasn't like that. He closes his eyes, fighting off the tears, and when he opens them again, Audrey is gone. The house is gone. Alex is in the car with Tuck, on their way to the movies.
“They had been dating for almost a year, so happy. We hadn't had a night out together in the longest time. We decided we'd have a guy night, grab some steaks then go watch some movie. I don't even remember what the movie is now, but we were so excited to see it.”
Alex is driving, Tuck is in the passenger side. They'd just left the steakhouse, on their way to the movie theaters. They'd both devoured a steak and split a bottle of wine, and couldn't be happier. They were talking about the movie, some comic book movie. Some hero gets powers, the world is threatened, and he has to make a choice: Save the world or lose the girl.
“It'd been a great night, you know? Things were going great for me at work, Tuck was so happy with Marie. We were talking about surprising Matthew, randomly going up to New York to see him. And then Tuck's phone rang.”
Tuck picks up the phone, and the look on his face, it was clearly Marie. Alex watches him from the driver side, and starts egging Tuck on with kissy faces and mock adulation. Alex, of the two, had drank more than his fair share of the wine, and was feeling particularly mischievous. Alex reaches over and snatches the phone from Tuck.
“She also spoke softly, to the point you almost had to strain to hear her. She wasn't mad at me, she giggled when I told her that I had kidnapped Tuck. I told her we were running off to Vegas to elope, there was nothing she could do about it. She played along, told me to just take pictures of the honeymoon, for her sake. Then she asked me to just make sure Tuck came home safe. I told her I would, and she hung up. I looked at Tuck and I told him that she had given him to me for the night. No girlfriends, no work. That was the deal I made with him. I turned off his phone, turned off my phone, and threw them both into my jacket.”
Tuck is laughing now, howling at Alex's theatrics.
“We pulled into the movie theater's parking lot, and I looked at Tuck, and I tell him that tonight we are just going to have a blast. And not to worry about Marie, since absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Alex and Tuck get out of the truck, leaving their cell phones behind. As they walk towards the theater, Tuck pats Alex on the back. He was happy, Alex had never seen him happier.
“She was out jogging, and a car ran a red light...” Alex's voice cracks as he chokes on his tears. Audrey gasps, stunned.
“They took her to the hospital, did what they could, but...She was still alive, for a little while. That's the thing. Everyone called us, but our phones were off. That fucking movie...it was so long, by time it ended....he hated me. He did. Tuck could've said good-bye to her but by time we got back to the truck....”
Alex can't fight it off now, and breaks down crying. Audrey holds him, trying to do what she can for him. For twenty minutes, neither of them talk. Alex cries while Audrey holds him. They'd never felt closer. Finally, Alex runs out of tears.
“I should go.” He says, weakly.
“No.” Audrey shakes her head. “You should stay here tonight, Alex.”
“No, no. I just want to be alone.” Alex rises from the couch, walks towards the door. Audrey rises and goes to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Alex, don't go. “
“Were we good? Alex asks.
“What?”
“Us. Were we good?”
“Yeah. Yes, Alex, we were great.” Audrey says, still confused. Alex smiles, then gives her a kiss on the cheek. Before she knows it, he is out the door.
“Good bye.”

-
Nothing good happens after 2 am.
That one thought races through Alex's head as he hears the glass shatter and the truck compress. The air bag goes off, and Alex's world goes black.

-
The police report would say that Alex's black pickup had ran into a light pole. The truck itself was totaled, but Alex was lucky. When the police cruiser pulled up, he was outside his truck, smoking a cigarette. His left eye was swelled shut and he was bleeding from the head, but all things considered, he was safe. The police officer smelled the alcohol on Alex within five feet of him, and didn't even bother with the sobriety tests. No reason to, the officer had thought.
He helped Alex get into the back of the cruiser. Alex, to his credit, was very compliant. On the ride to station, Alex kept mentioning a Marie. The officer surmised that Alex was dealing badly with a break-up, and had gotten drunk in the process. No one was injured the officer was glad to write in the report.
They processed Alex, patched up the cut on his head, and sat him down on the bench. Next to him, an old man in his sixties rambled about UFOs and liberals. Alex was beginning to sober up, beginning to grasp everything that had happened. He looked disconnected, deflated, and lifeless. The officer walked over, knelt down to eye level, and asked if Alex had anyone he could call. Alex look at him glassy-eyed, thinking over the question.
“Yeah”, Alex says with a slight smile, “Yeah, I've got somebody.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Brothers Part 1: Matthew

Hey guys. This is the first of a five part story called Brothers. Let me know what you think, and remember, "Satellites" is on sale 50% off this week, so now is the time to buy.

-K


Brothers Part 1:
Matthew

       As the plane descends, the ice in the scotch glass shakes and rattles. The stewardess with the nice ass walks by, and brushes Matthew on the shoulder. He can't tell if she was trying to be comforting or flirtatious. Not that it matters, as Matthew isn't in the mood.
Six years ago, Matthew went to New York with the simple goal of making a million dollars and never coming home again. And he took a train, as flying terrifies him. So today Matthew is in a foul mood.
Matthew grips the seat as the plane shakes and lowers. He closes his eyes, and tries to even out his breathing, keep his heart from bursting out of his chest.
“You don't have to do this, you know.” Tyler says to him, as the four of them stand in line. Sweat is dripping from beneath his baseball cap, as the July sun bears down on them. Matthew does a quick glance at the other two and gives Tyler a pensive look.
“I can't do that, if they know I'm afraid, they won't do it. Especially Alex. No, I can do this.” Matthew says, trying to convince himself of his own decision. Tyler gives him a smirk, and shakes his head. At this very moment, Matthew hates his best friend. Why can;t Tyler be afraid of anything, ever?
Behind them in line, Alex and Tuck gasp in excitement. The roller coaster, the Leviathan, is 420 feet long and has a highest point of 382 feet. The two 12-year old boys keep saying this last fact over and over, much to the chagrin of Matthew.
Ever since he was little, Matthew hated heights of any kind. His heart races if he even climbs up a 10 foot ladder. 382 feet is a damn near heart attack.
Still, Matthew has to do it. He is the oldest, and he knows Alex looks up to him. So if Matthew backs out, there is no doubt Alex will too. And Matthew doesn't want that on him.
Tyler, on the other hand, might be a year younger than Matthew but has no fear in him whatsoever. Maybe that's why Tyler is the only of the boys who isn't a virgin, letting the other three imagine what life like that must be like.
The lines moves, and suddenly, the four boys are the next group up. Matthew feels his chest tighten, but fight it, and looks at Alex.
“You ready for this? I don't want you pussying out.” Matthew teases. Alex gives him a open mouthed gasp, his brown eyes wide behind his glasses.
“Are you kidding me?” Alex says, exasperated, “I'm so stoked for this!”
“Alex, do me a favor and take off your glasses, your mom would whoop my ass if you lost those.” Tyler tells Alex.
“What do you think it'll feel like?” Tuck chirps in.
“Well”, Tyler kneels down to his little brother, “It feels like you're flying. You'll be just like superman.“
Tuck smiles wide, and Tyler gives Matthew a wink.
“We're up, buddy.”
The four boys take their spots on the roller coaster. Tyler and Tuck in the front, Matthew and Alex in the back. Matthew tries to even his breathing, as the attendants strap them in.
'Here we go” Matthew hears Tyler say, as the roller coaster slowly comes to life, and begins to creep up the first hill.
“The first one isn't the biggest, it's only 260 feet up.” Alex says, casually.
“Only 260 feet, huh?” Matthew squeezes out with a fake smile.
Matthew looks over the side of the roller coaster, and regrets it. The ground slowly gets further and further away from him, as the top of the first hill gets closer and closer.
“Here we go!” Someone says. Matthew's heart pounds in his chest, as they reach the crest. Alex looks at him, worried, and tries to tell Matthew something as the roller coaster plummets 260 feet.
“Are you okay?”
Matthew opens his eyes. The plane has landed, and nearly everyone has left. He is the last one in first class, his hands still clinching the seat.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Not big on flying, you know?”
The stewardess gives him a sweet, reassuring look. The gives her a nod to let her know he is fine, and she moves on. Matthew raises from the seat, stretching out, and retrieves his overnight bag from the overhead compartment. Matthew walks past the cockpit on his way out, and hears someone say “Thank you for flying with us.”
Thank you for not crashing the plane and killing me, Matthew thinks, as he heads into the airport.
-
To go into Baltimore again, after all this time, feels as if being swallowed by a beast. Once you are in the gullet, there is no getting out. All Matthew ever wanted was to be as far away from Baltimore, to never come back.
The cab leaves the airport, with sun beginning to darken. It would be a blistering cold night, a stern reminder that spring is still a ways off The Nigerian cabbie speaks to some unknown entity via blue tooth headset, occasionally barking out a comment or two towards Matthew. Matthew generally ignores cabbies. They're a means to an end, a way to get from point A to point B. You don't confess to a cabbie.
Matthew closes his eyes and remember the day he was leaving Baltimore. He hadn't needed a cab that day. They took Tyler's sedan, with Tuck and Alex coming along. Matthew had been accepted to Columbia, the end product of hard work and sheer will. He had hugged his father good-bye at the house, both trying to remain stoic. Matthew's father was a cop, a prick, and a hell of a good dad. Matthew never had a chance to lip up, and because of that, he was leaving Baltimore for New York.
His three friends drove him to the airport, all of them talking about anything except for the fact that Matthew was leaving. They talked about baseball, they talked about girls, they talked about how awesome Limp Bizkit was, but not a word about college. Not until Tuck brought it up.
“Matt, do you think you'll ever want to come back?” He asked from the back seat. Tuck's older brother shot Tuck a look in the rear view mirror.
“Honestly? Maybe. You know, once I get a million dollars and I can buy you guys whatever cars you want!” Matthew had said, beaming. In his mind, it wasn't a joke, but a promise. He was going to make a million dollars.
“I'm going to get one of those huge hummers and...”
“Don't you mean you're going to give some hummers?” Alex said, cutting off Tyler. Tyler flicked him off while Tuck and Matthew laughed.
“Hey, hey, shut up. Listen, once Matt can do it, he's going to get me a hummer. One of those huge, bad ass motherfuckers. The kind with the bulletproof gas caps, right? And then I'll drive Matthew around, be his bodyguard and all that.”
“Jesus, I should just go ahead and kill myself if you're going to be driving me around. Much less painful that way.”
“I'm not done, I'm not done!”, Tyler exclaimed, “I'll be driving Matt around, and we'll all have a kick ass place on the water. And we'll just, we'll just have fun, drink, and do whatever we want. You know why?”
“Because Matt's going to make a million dollars.” Tuck shouted out.
“Bingo! Matt the Millionaire, just like he always wanted. We'll reap the benefits, but what is the point of being rich without your best friends, right, Matty?”
Matthew opens his eyes when he feels the cab stop, and pulls out a wad of cash, handing it to the Nigerian cabbie, still barking on his headset.
Matthew had some time to kill, knowing he'd be the first one to arrive, so it was time for a confessional. He walked through the door, and sat himself down at the bar. The bartender, an athletic looking girl with bright blue eyes, came over.
“What can I get you?” she asks.
“Shot of whiskey, and a beer.”
“Any preference?”
“The whiskey best be Irish and the beer best be cold.”
“Cute. It'll be right up.”
In truth, Matthew hadn't done a shot of anything in years, but it seemed like tonight it'd be apt. The last time he had ripped shots, it was for Alex's 21st birthday. Matthew promised to pay for, and match, every shot Alex did. They were in Ocean City at the time, a week long getaway for themselves. By the end of that night, Matthew and Alex were doing a duet in the bathroom, vomiting Grey Goose in sync. The next morning, the four of them went to the beach and sweated off the hangover. The only one who didn't have a hangover was Tuck. The little guy was never affected by booze, and spent the whole day laughing and teasing the other three. They ended that day the same way they started the night before, a shot of whiskey and beer at sunset.
The bartender sets the shot and beer on the table, and Matthew hands her his credit card, starting a tap. He mutters to himself, then downs the shot, chasing it with the beer. Out of his peripheral vision, he notices the bartender giving him a smirk.
“It's been a while since I've done a shot.”
“Like riding a bicycle?
“More or less. Do me a favor, when I finish this beer, just give me the exact same thing. A shot of whiskey and whatever beer that was.”
“Loose Cannon, it's local. You from out of town?”
“Yes and no. I haven't been here in a while.”
“Any reason why?”
“Funeral.” Matthews states, dryly.
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
Matthew lets the silence happen, and the bartender goes about doing busy work, until Matthew finishes his beer. She sets a shot of whiskey and a pint of Loose Cannon in front of him.
“Thanks.”
“You were close, huh?”
“Family. The kind you choose, at least. Worse part is, I haven't seen him in so long, I almost forget what he looks like. I keep trying to remember, but its vague, you know? I remember the impression of him. That's it.”
“Time will do that.”
“Yeah. Well, I wish it wouldn't.” Matthew says, angrily.
“When was the last time you saw him?” The bartender asks, bending over, resting her chin on her palms. She knew what she was doing. Bartenders are for confessing.
“A few years back, he came up, New York, I mean. That's where I live. I heard he was in town, so I called him, told him to come visit me at the office, I'd give him a tour and we'd catch up.”
“What is it you do?”
“Books.”
“Like, you write them?” she asks.
“Not at all, but I sell them. I work for a publisher.”
“Ah, anything I know?”
“You know those shitty glittering vampire stories?” Matthews ask, sarcastically pointing at himself.
“Bastard.”
“I know. So I tell him, hey, come her, we'll have a good time. So he comes into my office, him and his girl. This sweet looking blonde, with these dazzling green eyes. The best. So I go, I say hello, and I give him a big hug. I can tell somethings wrong, so I ask him what's up.”
Matthews pauses his story, as the bartender goes to help another customer. He takes this time to look at his watch, and finish his beer. The bartender comes back with another round, just as she'd promised to do. After the shot, Matthew continues.
“So he looks at me, and he tells me that they saw all the sights. Central Park, Statue of Liberty, even went to the Juicy Couture store for his girl. But then they went to g=Ground zero. He's always been a heartfelt kid, but the effect this had on him...I mean, you've got to realize, this wasn't too long after. It was still pretty bad. So Tuck looks at me, with those sad eyes of his, and tells me that it was like seeing a hole in the world. “
“Wow.” She says, softly.
“Yeah. You want to know the worst part? I've never been. I live in New York City, and I haven't been to Ground Zero. Proud New Yorker, right?” Matthew tells her with a scoff.
“You going to be okay?” The bartender asks, already preparing the next round.
“Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Listen, do you smoke? I haven't smoked in years but it feels like the perfect night, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, no problem. Listen, I'm actually do for a break if you want some company out there?” She gives him a sweet smile, and pulls out a pack of Camels, handing one and her lighter to Matthew.
“I wouldn't mind some alone time, maybe on the next trip?”
The bartender nods okay, and Matthew rises from the booth, and steps outside. A strong gust of wind chills him, and he buttons up his pea coat for warmth. Night has settled in, and the only people on the street are those wishing they weren't.
Matthews takes a drag of the camel, holding it in his chest for as long as possible, before exhaling. An old black man walks up to him smile on his face.
“How're ya' doing? Spare a cigarette?”
“Sorry, I had to bum this off the sweet bartender. I'm sure she'd give you one if you'd like.”
“Ah, I try and steer clear of bars. Made me the man I am today.” The old man cackles at this.
“Well, you look like a survivor, that must count for something.”
“Sometimes you can't do anything else. How long have you been in Baltimore?”
“I was born here, actually.”
“Really? You don't look it.”
“Well” , Matthew takes a drag of the cigarette, “That's kind of intentional.”
“That's a shame. You only get one home, son.” The old man says, disapprovingly.
“What about you?” Matthews asks.
“What about me? Hell, boy, I was born here, raised here, never left here. My father was never around, I raised my brothers and sisters. And I'll tell you, we were strong because of it. Yes sir.”
“You raised them all? How many?”
“Four brothers and five sisters. I was the oldest, so I changed their diapers, fed them, bathed them, all that.”
“Good for you.”
“Like you said, I'm a survivor, and I helped my family survive.”
“You sure did.”
“You going to finish that cigarette?” The old man asks Matthew. Matthew takes the half-smoked cigarette out of his mouth, examines it, then gives it to the old man.
“There you go, and here...” Matthew reaches into his pocket, snatches out one of his business cards, handing it to the old man. The old man examines the card. “You've got a good story, maybe I can sell it.”
“Bless you, son.” The old man says, a wide smile on his face. Matthew gives him a polite smile, and heads back into the bar. The old man's story wasn't unique or special, and he would never call Matthew. Matthew knew this, but maybe the hope will keep him warm on such a cold night. Matthew forgot about the old man in the cold as soon as he sat down at the bar, a shot and a beer waiting for him. Outside, Baltimore shudders as the cold wind cuts through it.  

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

"Satellites" Super Discount

Just a quick heads up: I'm trying to hit a personal milestone in the next week, so I've marked "Satellites"  50% off at lulu.com, which is essentially at cost. If you've ever even thought about giving it a try, this is the week to do it.

Satellites on Lulu.com

-K

My 15(or so) Favorite Movies

This is one of those posts were, I'd like to show you something new or give you some updates. But I've got nothing, so I figured I'd a do a fun post about myself. Cheers.

-K

My 15(give or take) Favorite movies


If you can't tell, this isn't the 15 movies I consider the best, it's the 15 movies I go back to, the ones I have fond memories of, the type of movie I will not stop watching if I stumble upon it on TV. Also, some of these are in pairs. It's my list, my rules.

15) Garden State/ The Last Kiss















I always felt that The Last Kiss was the thematic continuation of Garden State. Garden State dealt with people in their early twenties trying to figure out what they want, while The Last Kiss is about people in their late twenties trying to figure if what they have is actually what they want.

14) Training Day

Denzel Washington is fucking boring.Except when he is Alonzo Harris. Then, I can watch him all day, all night, and whenever TNT is showing Training Day ad nauseum. Alonzo Harris is an asshole, a prick, and someone you wish wouldn't get shot up by the Russians.




















13) Before Sunset
You know what you never see? A perfect sequel to a charming indie flick 9 years after the first, that exceeds the original. A honest portrayal of people and relationships, and one movie I quote all the time.






















12) Half Nelson
The best, most engrossing movie to ever focus on a crack addicted teacher and one of his students. Brings heart to a fucked up friendship.













11) Hellboy/Hellboy II
 Guillermo del Toro was and is the perfect director to bring Mignola's world to life. Ron Perlman is perfect as Hellboy, and the monster effects in both movies are great, physical, effects. A guilty pleasure for me, especially since F/X always seem to be playing Hellboy.
























10)A Clockwork Orange
Gloriously fucked up and amazing, my favorite Kubrick movie ever, and something I always put in when I realize a friend or room-mate has never seen it. We can all uses a bit of the ultra violence, yeah?




























9) Chasing Amy
 I'm not a huge fan of Kevin Smith. Clerks did nothing for me, Dogma was meh, Jay & Silent Bob was forgettable, but Chasing Amy? Pitch perfect, with fantastic casting, and hilarious moments coming from Jason Lee and Dwight Ewell. Plus, come on, Ben Affleck with facial hair. Perfect.


























8) The Dark Knight/Watchmen

  The two most perfect comic book labors of love. The Dark Knight was Nolan's vision come to life, his Batman in all it's glory. Watchmen was Zach Snyder trying his damnedest to be as faithful to Alan Moore's masterpiece as possible. Both films have flaws, both films failed at parts, but both are the best comic book moves ever. 






















7)Gladiator
Are you kidding me? Come on, it's Gladiator!
































6) Heat
Pacino and DeNiro on screen together for the first time, in one of the best crime movies ever. Beside sthe big two, this movie is loaded from top to bottom in the casting. Natalie Portman, Jon Voight, Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, etc.


























5) Wall-E

Heart-breakingly lovely. I went to see this as a midnight showing, and it exceed all of my expectations. 




























4)28 Days Later/28 Weeks Later



The best horror movies ever, at least in my eyes. The stark stillness at the beginning of 28 Days Later always gave me chills, and then when the first of the infected you see is a priest? Perfect. The relationship between the four surviors, especially Jim/Selena, was far and beyond what you'd usually get from a "zombie" movie. Christopher Eccleston as the crazed Major was top notch too, and when things finally went to hell...man, they went to hell?
28 Weeks Later had an uphill battle, trying to be a sequel to 28 Days Later, but it succeeded. While it doesn't quite match 28 Days Later, it hits some perfect notes. Specifically the total breakdown of society when shit goes real bad, and how people would act in a situation such as this. 28 Weeks Later has such a frantic, crazy opening, that I love. And Jeremy Renner gave a lot to a character that could've been two dimensional. 


3)Shaun of the Dead/Hot Fuzz



 I'm seen both movie over 500 times, and each time I die laughing. And each time I find something I didn't notice beforehand that is clever. I remember watching both movies with my best friend, discussing what we'd do in case of z-day or repeating Hot Fuzz quotes as they happened on screen. Both movies are instant "You haven't seen this? Then we are watching it right now!" Classic.





















2) Jurassic Park
 This was the first movie I looked forward to. Before Jurassic Park, yeah, I saw movies, but I was never looking forward to the day i would see them. This movie changed that. I honestly remember clearly, 7 years old, doing math homework at the dining room table while my mom watched Entertainment Tonight. They were doing a preview of Jurassic Park, and I remember being enthralled when I saw the Apatosaurus in the preview. When I was 7, I lived and breathed dinosaurs. I had every book on  them, and memorized everything about them. My favorite has always been Stegosaurus, by the way. Jurassic Park was the first film that showed me what I could get out of movies, which is something I always wanted: real life dinosaurs. The movie, while great, is second to the impact it had on me.  

1)Pan's Labyrinth

 It just so happens to be my favorite movie, ever, and there are not enough words or sentences for me to explain. It took my breath away the first time I saw it, and it does it everytime I see it. In my eyes, a perfect movie.



Saturday, May 14, 2011

Random Thoughts

-"This Feral Nation" is going strong, putting in some solid pages. The world keeps growing, and I think I'm writing some of my best stuff. I'll have another preview up soon.

-I've always wanted to do a serialized novel, releasing each chapter on a schedule. I've fucked around with it a bit, but I may be able to actually do it soon. I've got four chapters done for something I've been working on, and they're the perfect size at around 1100 words per chapter.

-Sunday night, game 7 of Thunder/Grizzlies is going to be awesome.

-I've been on a T.I. kick, tell me this song isn't the truth:


-I'm seeing the Deftones this Monday night. Deftones is one of those bands I really like, but don't really love. That being said, seeing them live seems special.

-A band that I really love? Brand New. And I saw them live a few weeks back, best show ever. Also, Coheed & Cambria killed when I saw them last month. It's been a good month of music.

-Make sure to check out(and buy) my book. Right now if you use the coupon code "LUCKY" you get 20% off.

-In my real life, I just got promoted at the head shop and I'm making waves in the volunteer firefighting. Word is the county will be hiring for firefighters soon too, so I could possibly go career sooner than I thought. Being career firefighter would be a dream come true, would make my life perfect.

-I saw Thor. It was awesome, and I had some great company seeing it. Plus, the 3d glasses make me looks swag.

-K

Monday, May 9, 2011

"This Feral Nation" Preview 2

Hey guys, just wanted to give you an update on "This Feral Nation". This has been the most fun I've ever had writing a story, it's completely different than anything else I've ever written. I'm dealing with types of characters I've never written before, a narrative structure and plot that is entirely new to me, and relationships that differ from anything else I've ever written. I am positively pumped for this. I wanted to give you guys another quick preview, to get you guys just as excited as I am. Last time, we got a 1st person narrative from Jack as he went through the horror and genesis. This time we have the 3rd person narrative as he follow Boomer and Pup's journey. Hope you enjoy, hope you get as excited for "This Feral Nation" as I am.

-K

This Feral Nation
Preview 2
It was about mid-day, but you couldn't tell from the gray sky. The forest was quiet, aside from the wind in the trees. It smelled like rain, Boomer thought. Rain was always a blessing. The two of them walked quietly, taking each step gingerly so the crunch of leaves doesn't bring any unwanted attention. Boomer knew the boy was hungry, but they only had so much food left, and didn't want to risk straying too far from the river. They were far enough away as it was, the river winding away from them for a few miles during this portion of the trek. Boomer's stomach growled beneath the poncho, and he tried to ignore it.
Pup walked by his side, his blue eyes sparkling beneath the grime and dirt on his face. He had lost his poncho, so was making due with a garbage bag they'd found in the last houses. That was four days ago, and the bag was already beginning to tear. Finding the boy a replacement jumped up on the list of priorities. At this pace, they were still two weeks away from Carnival, which was a generous estimate. They'd have to go further inland, and scavenge eventually.
“Alright, pup, let's sit. Old man's knees and all. Why don't you take a leak, and see if you can't find some tinder. I'll get us a piece of jerky out of the pack.”
The little boy's eyes lit up at the thought of some jerky, and he walked into the brush with a slight smile on his face. Beef jerky was the boy's favorite food, so Boomer kept it back for whenever the boy needed a smile.
He set the olive duffel bag on the ground, and sat on it, his knees creaking as he lowered himself. Boomer stroked his gray beard as he went through the messenger bag, a nervous habit he'd picked up. Boomer carried almost all their supplies on his body, split between the huge duffel bag and two messenger bags. He kept the food, first aid kit, and bullets in the messenger bags, just in case they had to make a run for it. The duffel bag kept their blankets, spare clothes, and the scavenged goods Boomer would bring back to Carnival. Until he had found the bag at Fort Pennington three summer's back, he had pushed around a shopping cart with his supplies.
Boomer looked through the messenger bag, trying to find the the bit of jerky he had stashed back, when he heard the loud crunch of leaves behind him, followed by the click of a revolver cocking. Boomer sighed wearily, and stood up, turning around to see a young man, in his twenties at best, pointing a revolver at him. The young man was all skin and bones, his clothes torn and shredded. God only knows how long he had been out there. His hair was a mess, and he had the faint signs of peach fuzz on his face.
“You been following us, what, five miles now, I reckon?” Boomer said evenly, keeping his hands beneath the poncho, trying to keep the young man as calm as possible.
“Y-y-yeah, you knew? Didn't do you no good!” The young man stammered.
“Hungry, huh? How long you been out here?”
“S-s-shut it! J-j-just give me the food, alright? I'll shoot you!” The young man raised the gun even more, to emphasize how serious he was.
“I get it, okay? You've got the gun, you're in charge. But I don't think you want to shoot me. Wouldn't be prudent, y'hear? Lower the young, and we'll have a chat.”
“No! No! Just give it to me!” The young man was near tears, desperate. Boomer was always afraid of desperate people, couldn't predict them.
“Now, hold on. You shoot that gun, you know what'll happen? All the wolves in ear shot will be here in moments. You want that? You got the look of a man who's ran from them before, you got it in you to do it again?”
“Ain't no wolves! I ain't seen them for weeks!”
“Don't need to see them, but they're there. Lower the gun, kid. We'll talk this through. Ain't no sense getting us all killed. Ain't no proper graves out here for us.” Boomer wanted the young man to lower the gun, but the look in his eyes. He was too hungry, too scared.
Crunch.
The sound startled them both, and they both snapped their heads to the side, where Pup had just walked up, accidentally stepping on and snapping a branch. He looked wide-eyed, terrified, at the young man.
The young man was taken back at the look of the child, and Boomer saw the young man's grip on the gun waver slightly, losing his resolve. Boomer wasn't going to give him the chance to get it back.
BAM!
The bullet hit the young man square in the throat, and he crumpled to the ground with a gurgle. The gun in Boomer's hand trembled beneath the poncho, and Pup looked at him, trying to hold back tears.
“Start a fire, climb a tree.” Boomer told the child, calmly. The boy stood, frozen, staring at the young man on the ground. He was still alive, barely. “Pup!”, Boomer raised his voice as much as he could, “Start a fire. Climb a tree. Now.”
Boomer hadn't lied to the young man, they only had a few moments to do what needed to be done. As Pup ran around, collecting wood and leaves to make a smokey fire, Boomer walked over to the young man. The bullet had hit him right in the windpipe. If this was the old days, he probably could have survived a shot like this. If only. Boomer knelt down, to the young man's side. He couldn't speak, blood was filling up his mouth, but his eyes said enough.
Boomer thought for a second, wondering if a moment like this required words, or maybe a prayer. But there was no time for that. Boomer sighed, and clamped his hands on the young man's face, smothering him and cutting him off from air. The young man twitched and squirmed slightly, but within a moment, the body was still. The young man stared at Boomer with glassy eyes. They were sparkling blue, just like Pup's. Boomer closed the young man's eyelids, and searched his pocket's for anything valuable, anything they could use to survive. But the young man had nothing, not even bullets in the rusty gun. 















Sunday, May 8, 2011

May Savings

Just a quick post: if you use the coupon code MAYSAVES305, you can get "Satellites" 15% off on lulu.com.

-K

Thursday, May 5, 2011

"This Feral Nation" Preview

In two weeks, I'll be releasing a novella called "This Feral Nation". I'm in the process of revising, proofing, and figuring out how I'm going to release it. "This Feral Nation" is the first of three novellas that I plan on releasing over the next three months, all with a common theme, leading up to the print edition that will have a 4th novella in it.

-K

This Feral Nation
Preview

It was luck, I guess. That I made it this far, at least. Dumb luck. But if you're reading this, which you clearly are, then my luck ran out. It means I'm probably, hopefully, dead. Or something far worse.
It's been so long since I talked to someone, to hear another voice other than my own. I never realized how quiet it can be, how still the world is without us. I wish you were here, to talk to you. I've spent the last six weeks alone, and God, it's crippling. Things were better with Charlie around. At least with her, I had small moments in the day to keep me going. Now? Now I wish it had ended on day one.
Where were you on day zero, I wonder? It's funny, everyone remembers day zero. Every minute detail. I guess that's what tragedies do. They stay with you, ingrained in your every thought, a shadow on the horizon, no?
For me, day one was the mall. It was myself, my brother Doyle, and his fiance, Charlie. We were all free that day, decided to go Christmas shopping. It was a special Christmas,, Charlie just found out she was pregnant. A little Christmas gift, she'd told me. Doyle was nervous about the whole thing, fatherhood. But I kept telling him he'd be fine. He'd be a great father.
So there we are, in the food court of the mall, eating some fries(God, I miss fries) and drinking some soda, when it happened. Day one. It started with a low constant buzzing. Nothing else seemed different. Just this BZZZZZ that was just a notch below everything else.
But then Doyle fell to the ground, in agony. He clutched his head and screamed, an ungodly scream. He wasn't the only one, either. All around us, dozens of people fell to the ground, screaming. I remember Charlie's panicked look. I felt ashamed, the way she was looking at me, begging for an answer. But I was still, completely still. Maybe if I had been an EMT or a police officer or something, I could've done something. But I'm an accountant. I knew numbers, not emergencies.
“Jack, do something!” Charlie screamed, tears down her face, as Doyle began to bleed from his eyes and ears. I noticed the others started to bleed to. Someone yelled out “It's the terrorists!” and the hysteria hit. I don't think many people noticed the changes.
It was an old lady, a goddamned granny with a walker. She was bleeding, just like the others, but then her face became twisted and contorted. Her jaw made a hideous crack as it become elongated, her teeth fell out out of her mouth, like bloody rocks. Her back arched unnaturally, brittle bones snapping and cracking in the old lady.
“Oh, God, Jack!” Charlie's scream brought me back to Doyle. It was happening to him too. So much blood, just pouring out of him, as his teeth fell out. Then I noticed what had fallen to the ground. Doyle had been gripping his ear in pain so hard, he'd ripped off his left ear. It lay on the ground in a pool of blood.
I'd like to say I rushed into action, that I got mys hit together, grabbed my brother and headed to the hospital. But that would be a lie. As Charlie held her dying fiancee, my fucking brother, I stumbled the ground and vomited. The world goes to hell, and I vomit. Makes sense, no?
A heard a growl, and looked back to where the old lady was. Or had been. She wasn't there anymore. In her place, was an animal. At least, at the time, I thought it was an animal. It stood on its hind legs, nearly nine feet tall. Covered in rough, brown fur. Large, red eyes. And the teeth...well, I'm sure you've learned about the teeth.
I couldn't process it, I just sat in my vomit looking at this, this thing. It stared at me, and let out a blood-curdling howl, and charged. It lunged and attacked a man, barely three feet away from me. It bit into his throat, and shook the man's head free from the body, as blood splattered me in the face. I don't think he ever even realized what was happening. And looking back, if I had been three feet closer to the beast, then....like I said, dumb luck.
They were all changing, you see. Every one of the people who had fallen to the ground in pain, changing into these...these wolves. Maybe a dozen of them, in the food court. And they were hungry. You suddenly saw these things lunging at the closest person, tearing them to bits. And my brother was becoming one of them.
“Charlie, we need to go!” I said as I grabbed her. The girl was shell shocked, she had been sitting on the ground, crying hysterically. I don't even think she noticed the wolves at first. I grabbed her and we ran.
The last time I saw my brother, he was in mid-change. I don't know why he was taking longer than the others, but when we ran away, he looked at me. He looked at me with tears in his eyes. Every time I sleep now, I see him. Laying there in a pool of blood, watching his brother run away with his fiancee. Sometimes I pray, I pray that he died that day. That he isn't out there as one of them.
As we ran, we realized it wasn't just the food court. All around the mall, people had been changed into these monsters. You had the wolves attacking whomever they could, you had the people panicking and running, and you had the people that couldn't keep up. The ones that tripped, fell, got swallowed up beneath the heels of the mob. The floors became slick with blood, I could barely keep my balance.
We turned the corner, near the Macy's. The exit to the parking lot, to my car, is 300 feet away. But there was two of them, eating a poor woman. God, she was still alive. I saw them pull out her intestines, and she looked at me. And then they noticed us.
Have you ever had one of them charge at you? I'm you've had. You've had to, if you're still alive after all this time. They're so fast. I couldn't move, I was paralyzed. I should have died that day, to be honest. Eaten by those two beasts. But before they could get to me, someone grabbed Charlie and I, threw us into a room, and closed the door. There was a loud thud as soon as the door closed, and then the howling. They were trying to get in.


Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Conversations That Can Only Happen at a Head Shop

Customer:"Hey, yeah, I'm looking for bath salts."
Me:"Ah, sorry, we don't sell hygiene products."
Customer:"It's not really a hygiene product, it's, you know, fake coke! You snort it!"
Me: "Subtle, but no, don't have it."
Customer(winking, this time):"Do you have plant food?"

-----

(Girl is looking at the hookahs, and looks at the pair of Eiffel Tower hookahs we have, and gives me the dirtiest look ever)
Girl: I can't believe you have the twin towers as a hookah!

-----

Trashy Girl looking at one-hitters: "How much is this?"
Me:"12.99"
Trashy:"Oh. I only haven 6 bucks on me."
Me: "Oh, sorry."
Trashy:"Is there anything (licks her lips with her tongue slowly) that I can do for you to make up the difference?"
Me:"Ah, no, I'm good"

To be fair, she was okay looking, except for the track lines on her arm and the busted lip.

-KSupport independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.



So This is The Taste of Nothing?

I'm in the process of putting all my short stories here on the blog. If you like what you read, remember you can buy the book on Lulu(link is on the right) and I'll have a Kindle version available in a day or so.


So This is The Taste of Nothing?

“When I was a boy, my father drank, drank a hella lot. He'd come home from the mill, sit down in that ol' chair of his, and go through a case of beer a night. Usually he wouldn't start feeling it til' after I went to bed, and I'd hear him and my mom yelling and screaming. He'd call her things like slut, whore, whatnot. But sometimes, sometimes Pop wold stop off at the bar before coming home. On those nights...on those nights he was right and ready before bedtime. And it was those nights, he took a might interest in me. One night, I was at the kitchen table, doing my homework. I was about nine, maybe ten. “Boy!”, he'd say in that rough voice of his, “Why you messin' round with that? You ain't gonna be nothing!” And then he'd try to help me with my homework. Then...then, when I got my math wrong he'd take off his belt...”
The old man's voice trembles and he pauses to collect himself. That's fine, Cole thinks, the story wasn't too interesting anyway. One thing about A.A., everyone seems to tell the same story. Everyone has that sad, defeated look on their face, and they choke down cigarettes by the carton. Cole shakes his head, wondering why he came. He doesn't need this, he shouldn't spend his last night here with these people. Old, broken down men blaming their fathers because they can't handle their booze. Cole rises from his seat, and heads out. The old man in the front stares at Cole, and shakes his head, then continues with his story.
Outside, Cole light up a cigarette, and in-hales deeply. This, he thinks, is what he is going to miss the most. Sweet, sweet nicotine.
“Got a light, cowboy?”
Cole turns around, and a short svelte brunette is standing in front of him Her eyes are a vicious green, with dark mascara surrounding it. Her hair is long and curly, and slightly disheveled. She's dressed simple, but nicely, Cole thinks. Tight jeans, boots, and a black tank top. Her left arm has an intricate tattoo of a Koi fish, brightly colored in stark contrast to her dark wardrobe.
“Sure”, Cole responds as he lights her cigarette with his zippo.
“Thanks”, as she exhales smoke, “You know, first timers are supposed to go up to the front, and say a little something. You're breaking the rules, mister.”
“Neither did you.”
“Oh, I never do. I just like to come and watch. Kind of my Tuesday night tradition. I'm Strawberry Fields.”
“Strawberry Fields? That isn't your name.”
“Oh, but it is. Since the day I was born!”, she says with a smile.
“I don't believe you, Fields. Show me your license, then.”
“You first, stranger.”
“About that”, Cole bites down on his lip, “The, ah, the Judge took it. I don't have a license right now.”
“Well then, I guess we're on the honor system for tonight. What's your name?”
“Cole.”
“Well Cole, you don't seem like the type to rape on the first date, want to go grab something to drink?”
“We just left A.A.” Cole says baffled.
“I know, doesn't it make you thirsty? Come on!”, She says back while grabbing Cole by the hand In what may or may not be a good idea, he goes with her.

To Cole's disdain, they walked past Sinners on the way to whatever bar Strawberry Fields was taking them to. And of course Rocco was working the rope tonight, and he easily spotted Cole.
“Mr. Schofield!”, the big man yells out. Cole sighs, but walks over to him.
“How you doing, Rocco?”, Cole asks while he shakes his hand.
“Can't complain. Quiet night so far. Are you and your lady friend coming in tonight? We have your usual table free.”
Cole bites down on his lip, as Fields looks at him with wide eyes. He turns to Rocco, shaking his head.
“Not tonight, Rocco, we aren't dressed right for Sinners.”
“Oh, they won't mind if it's you, Sir.”
“Right, ah, be that as it is, we actually are headed somewhere right now, so...”
“But that can wait. Rocco, is it? We would like to come in tonight.” Strawberry Fields interjects.
“Right this way.” Rocco tells the pair as he lifts the velvet rope. The long line of people waiting to get in shout and curse in disappointment, as Cole and Strawberry Fields walk into Sinners. The club pulses with music as Cole and Strawberry Fields are led up to the V.I.P. Section over looking the dance floor. Below them, women in short dresses and men in tight shirts dance to the music. A sexy waitress named Rochelle leads them to an area with a nice couch and a bottle of Cristal already waiting for them on the table. Strawberry Fields looks at Cole and mouths “Holy Shit!” to him.
“I hope you enjoy everything. If you need anything, just ask.”, Rochelle says
“Could you bring a glass of water and lime?”
“Of course.”
The two sit down on the couch, and Strawberry Fields looks at him with a smile.
“You're a somebody.” She tells him.
“I'm nobody.”
“Nu-uh,cowboy. I'm a nobody. You just waltzed into one of the most exclusive clubs in the city and you have bottle service. Bottle service!”
She reaches over, and grabs the bottle of Cristal and stares at it.
“This is worth more than I've made all month!”, she exclaims before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“There are glasses for that, kiddo.”
“No, no, I've seen the music videos, this is how you drink Cristal!”
Rochelle returns with the water for Cole, and give Strawberry Fields a dirty look, before pulling a 180 and giving Cole the sweetest smile ever. Strawberry Fields laughs as she sees this.
“Here you go, Sir.”
“Thank you, Rochelle.”
Rochelle turns to leave, but is tapped on the shoulder by Strawberry Fields. Rochelle turns to face her, with an incredibly fake smile.
“Oh, darling? We're going to need a bottle of Grey Goose.”, Fields tells her. Rochlle just nods, and walks away. Strawberry Field sits down on the couch next to Cole, bottle in hand, and looks at him.
“That chick hates me!”, she smiles and takes another swig from the bottle. Cole finds it oddly cute.
“Well, she's just used to a different sort of woman, you know, the kind that uses a glass.”, Cole says with a wink as he takes a sip of water. She leans in, gives a wry look.
“So who is Cole Schofield?”
“Nobody special.”
“No secrets between friends, cowboy. Come on, tell me.”
“Fine, okay”, Cole sighs, “My father runs in some pretty high class circles. I've been able to get into places like this since I was 16.”
“So you're rich!”
“Not quite, my Dad is, sure, but me? Not so much. I pay my own bills.”
“But you've used his name to get into places like this, huh? Strange, you don't seem like the playboy party type.”
“That's because I'm sober. I've never had to try and be charming sober.”
“So drink.”, the little brunette says as she swigs again from the bottle. By Cole's estimation, she is ¾ done with it. He merely shakes his head no. Strawberry Fields scrunches her face, and leans in.
“Cole, why were you at A.A. Tonight?”
Cole just looks at her, mouth open, and is about to say something, before Rochelle shows up. She sets the bottle of Grey Goose vodka on the table, gives Strawberry Fields a smirk, and leaves. Cole takes the initiative
“To a fun night?”
“Not going to pour yourself one?”
“Not right now, no.”
She frowns, then winks, then downs the shot with ease.
“Why were you there, then? You don't seem like you're admitting a problem.”
“Well, I don't have cable, so I need something to entertain me.”
Cole laughs, shakes his head.
“What? There's nothing wrong with it! They just need someone to talk to, and I'm a very good listener! You ask me, they need me there.”
“I'm sure, I'm sure.”
She does another shot, and grabs Cole by the hand.
“Come on.” she says, while tugging on his arm.
“What?”
“Let's dance!”
She leads him away from the V.I.P, down to the dance floor below. The music is loud, the lights strobing, and someone has turned on a smoke machine. All around them, beautiful people dance together. Strawberry Fields takes the lead, brings Cole in close, and slowly sways, ignoring the beat of the music. She apparently has her own beat, he thinks, as he matches her tempo. For the next hour, they dance, neither saying a word. Cole has to laugh to himself, when he realizes this will be the first time he has ever danced sober. Strawberry Fields runs her hands through his brown hair, and gives him a smile. She says something but he can't hear. He just nods and smiles. Apparently, that's good enough, as she rests her head on his chest and holds him tight, as they do a slow dance to house music.

Much dancing later, the pair returns to the V.I.P section. Strawberry Fields goes off to the bathroom, and Cole gets a moment alone. He stares at the nearly finished bottle of Grey Goose. He remember the first time he had Grey Goose, he was 15. Cole and some friends broke into his father liquor cabinet, took turns taking shots while playing darts. Cole threw up the entire night and swore he'd never drink again. Didn't quite stick.
“Would you like me to pour you a drink?”
Cole looks up, slowly. First he follows the toned, long legs. Then he examines the yellow dress, following every curve of her body, before coming to her face. Tan, with blue eyes and perfect lips. Her blond hair is straight tonight, framing her face.
“Hey there, Cam.”
She smiles, pours herself a drink, and sits down close to Cole. She sips the vodka, ever so slightly, and looks at Cole.
“Haven't seen you in a while, thought maybe you forgot about me.”
“That'd be a hard thing to do, Cam.”
“Where've you been hiding?”
“Quiet evenings at home, I guess. Just dealing with everything.”
“You know, you can always invite me home.” Cam purrs. She is showing just enough cleavage to make you want to see more. Cole can't think of anything to say, so he just nods.
“Who's the girl? She doesn't look your type.”
“What's my type, Cam?”
Cam leans in close, and whispers “Me.” into his ear. She nibbles on the ear, and kisses his neck before getting up.
“Give me a call when you finally decide to have fun, Cole.”
Cam walks off, passes by the returning Strawberry Fields.
“Enjoy it while it lasts.” Cam hisses. Strawberry says nothing, she slightly shrinks at the sight of Cam, and lets her walk by. She walks up back, and sits down on the couch.
“So...friend of yours.” She asks, dodging Cole's eyes.
“Somewhat. You want to get out of here?”
She nods yes, and Cole takes her by the hand, and they leave Sinners.

“Did someone get hurt?”
They had been walking the streets, uncharacteristically silent. It's a warm spring night, but not many people are out. Few people go to the bar on a Tuesday night, even fewer go from one bar to another at midnight on a Tuesday night. Cole doesn't respond to Strawberry Fields,hoping she'd let it go.
“I, I mean, if you don't have your license and you were at A.A....” Her voice is beginning to slur. In his head, Cole tries to add up all the drinks she's had tonight. More than you'd expect from the tiny brunette. She stops walking, and looks at Cole.
“Cole, I'm serious, just tell me. Did someone get hurt?” She looks at him with those green eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah, someone did.” Cole tells her, weakly. She doesn't say anything. For a moment, the pair stand in utter silence on the street. It is almost as if they were the last people in the world. Strawberry Fields turns and begins to walk away, leaving Cole standing alone. After a few steps, she looks back at him, and reaches out her hand.
“Come on.”
Cole catches up to her, and she holds his hand. She gives it a squeeze as they walk the street.

Strawberry Fields is smiling, and Cole hates her for it. She took him to one of those places, that used to be a row house but has shifted into a neighborhood bar. The kind of bar Cole has never really been to. It's small, first off. You can see the entire place from the moment you walk in. It's less crowded, and less beautiful people. The selection is limited to domestic beers and cheap liquor, and don't even bring up bottle service. None of these reasons warrant hate, of course. No, Cole hates her lovely smiling face right now because she convinced him to do karaoke. And he is sober. After butchering Don McLean's “American Pie”, Cole heads off stage to few applause and much laughter. Strawberry Fields, herself, is giving him the widest smile in the place. As Cole sits down, she begins a slow clap.
“I almost raised my lighter!” she squeezes out, in between laughs.
“Hey, at least I did it. When am I going to see you up there?”
“Never. I only sing at funerals and in the shower. And I'm not naked and you're not dead.”
The waitress comes by, and drops off a beer and two shots of whiskey. Cole gives her a confused look.
“They're both for me, cowboy. “, she manages out, before downing the two shots in quick succession.
“Maybe you want to slow down.”
“I'll be fine, Cole. I'm a big girl, I know what I can do.” She mutters out.
“Tell me about the koi fish? Cole asks, trying to change the subject.
“It was pretty”, Strawberry Fields shrugs her shoulders, “So I went for it. I've got that, a flower on my ankle, and a tree on my back.”
“Any of them mean anything?”
“Just the tree.”, She says looking away, “So, Cole, what's gonna happen to you. With the whole...thing.”
“I go tomorrow for, treatment. I was advised to go to Alcoholics Anonymous to prepare myself.”
“How long-Oh Shit!”
Before Cole even knows what is going on, he's on the ground. He looks up and Strawberry Fields is screaming at some huge, angry looking guy.
“What the fuck, you fucking shit!”, She screams.
“Shut up, you little whore! How many, huh? How many guys are you sleeping around with, skank?” He bellows back. She says nothing, just slaps him twice across the face. He reaches his hand back, as if to hit her, as Cole springs to his feet and tackles the guy. The next thing Cole knows, the man is punching him. And his world goes black.
Cole doesn't know how long he was out, but when he wakes up, he is in the storage room of the bar. Strawberry Fields is sitting across from him, her legs up and wrapped by her arms. Her eyes are glazed over, and she doesn't say anything. Cole reaches gingerly to his eye, which is throbbing in pain. He looks at her, and she finally acknowledges his presence.
“I've never been very good at being monogamous.” She tells him, flatly. Cole stands up, look around. Then he scrunches his face at the smell.
“It smells like vomit in here.”
“Yeah, yeah I know.” Strawberry Fields quietly says. Cole nods, heads toward the door to leave. Strawberry Fields stays seated. Cole reaches out his hand.
“Come on.”
Slowly, Strawberry Fields gets up, and walks out of the storage room with Cole.

Cole opens the door to his apartment, and Strawberry Fields goes running towards the bathroom. Cole slowly steps into his kitchen, and pours as glass of water to the sounds of vomit hitting water. He steps into the bathroom, and sets the glass down next to her. She nods thankfully, as she straddles the toilet. Cole walks away, steps out on his deck.
The city stretches out, farther than he can see. To his right, the St. Augustine cathedral shines in the dark. Down below, a few scattered people walk around, but the city is quiet and asleep. The 4 am. bells chime from the cathedral. It took Cole sometime to get used to them when he first moved in, but eventually he got used to them, and they even became his signal to go to sleep. Wherever he was, if he heard those bells, he'd head home. Nothing is better after a night out than the warm embrace of your own bed. Strawberry Fields silently walks out on the deck, stands next to him. She has stripped down, wearing black underwear and her tank top. It's a warm night out, but still, she must be cold.
“Hey.”
Her voice is low, and even in the dark, you can tell her eyes are bloodshot. She sways back and forth.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”He says back, rubbing her arm. She doesn't say anything. She turns around, walks toward the apartment. She takes off her tank top, throws it the ground. Cole gets a glimpse of her intricate back tattoo: a large black tree, with crows flying away from it. It covers her entire back, with the roots of the tree going from the small of her back towards under her black underwear. It's captivating, Cole thinks, even beautiful.
“Come on, then.” She mutters as she heads towards the bedroom. Cole follows her. His bedroom is huge, as is his bed. Strawberry Fields jumps on the bed, and rolls her back. She lean up, on her elbows, and looks at Cole impatiently.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Come on.”
Her voice is flat, defeated. In the darkness, Cole can see the outline of her body, and he hates himself for hesitating to answer. But he does.
“No, I think I'm going to sleep on the couch.”
“Whatever.” She rolls onto her stomach.
“What does the tree mean?”
“It reminds me of home.” She tells him, before passing out. Cole walks over, and grabs a blanket. He lays it on Strawberry Fields, and she purrs in her sleep. With one last look at her, he shuts the door as he leaves the room.
Cole makes his way to his kitchen. Packed full of the top equipment, it is barely ever used. He opens a cabinet, finds a small bottle of Jamison whiskey. He pours two fingers worth into a cup, and steps back out onto the deck. He leans over the railing, and stares out at the city. And he thinks. Drunk Cole would've had sex with Strawberry Fields, he's sure of it. But Drunk Cole would've never met her. Different worlds. He looks down at his cell phone, notices he has a missed call from Cam. He could call her, of course, and she would come. She has always came, whenever he called, no matter how drunk he was. And the sex was good. Cam was excellent in bed, but the mornings were always quiet. They only work in the hours between tipsy and sober. Cole thinks about what he has done. He almost lets these thoughts get to him, but he shakes it off. Cole's father used to say, you should always mimic your life after a shark. They never stop swimming forward, they can never go back. You gotta be a predator to make it in life, his father would say. So Cole looks forward. Tomorrow he leaves the city. He hasn't decided whether or not to come back afterward.
“Cheers.”
Cole raises his glass to the city, to the cathedral, to the lights below. He takes a long sip of his whiskey, savors it, and sets the glass down. He heads inside, lays on the couch, and falls asleep.

Strawberry Fields wakes up, lost and scared. Shit, she thinks, I did it again. Blacked out, barely remember a thing. She quietly gets out of the bed, begins searching for her clothes. Her jeans and one sock was easily found, but her tank top? She can't find it anywhere. She opens up a armoire, and finds herself an old t-shirt. She slips it on, and leaves the bedroom.
She sees Cole, and she begins to remember the night before. He sleeps, still dressed in the same clothes as the night before. Strawberry Fields allows herself a smile, walks over to the couch, and runs her hand through his hair. He makes a low moan, and rolls to his side. She notices the tank top on the deck floor, and heads out there.
The morning is inhumanly bright and sunny, and smells far too good than what she is used to. She bends down, picks up the tank top, and walks over to the rail. Strawberry Fields looks out over the city, it's length escaping her view. She looks down, sees the people coming and going, the sidewalks filled with life. She notices a school bus, and frowns. A quick glance of her watch tells her she needs to get going. As she is turning, she notices the glass of whiskey. She grazes her finger on the rim of it, and shakes her head. He almost did it, she thinks, he almost went the entire night. It must've been me, she decides.
She begins to leave, but hesitates, almost writing her number or a note for him to contact her, but she decides against it.
“Good-bye.” Strawberry Fields whispers as she closes the door.

“My name is Anna, and I'm, uh, I'm an alcoholic. It's been five weeks since my last drink. I used to look forward to it, you know? The forgetting, the losing control. I felt like I needed that, I needed that...I guess I just wanted to get away from everything. And I mean, I still do. I still have that urge to...just go, run away, disappear, whatever. But I don't. And it's working out, to an extent. I haven't been late to work in a while, or shown up to class wearing the same outfit as the day before. I'm not...I'm not good with people, still have problems with that, but I have a cat. I saved a cat from the pound, this little tabby who, when he meows, it sounds like he's saying “Hi!” So I come home, and he's there, and he looks at me and he meows a “Hi!”, and it feels good. And he hasn't died yet, so there's that. So yeah, um, five weeks down, and I'm managing.”
Anna smiles, as a smattering of claps emits from the rows of seats. Gilbert, the old man, comes up, and gives her a hug. He gives her a squeeze on the shoulders, and it feels good. She heads back to her seat, when she sees Cole in the back. He holds up a pack of cigarettes, and motions for her to follow him outside.
Outside, Cole has already lit his cigarette as he waits for her. To her, it looks like he has lost weight.
“Hey cowboy, got a light?”
“Of course”, he says while lighting her cigarette, “So...Anna?”
She laughs, and looks at him. He just stands there, staring at her with those blue eyes of his.
“You found me.” She finally says.
“Yeah, yeah I did.”
A silence fills the air, and they look at each other awkwardly. Anna looks at him, perplexed.
“So...now what?”
It's a good question, Cole thinks. He takes one last drag of his cigarette, then tosses it into the street. He extends his hand to Strawberry Fields, and smiles.
“Come on.”