Somewhere

Stage 12
Message from Stephen

The Next Time I Fall

I admit I cried a few times in my life:
When my cat died.
That time I lost the election for class secretary.
And a few minutes after the death of my girlfriend.

When your girlfriend tells you she needs space it’s always a bad thing.
Nothing good ever comes from that phrase.

Of course, when your boyfriend tells it to you its worse.
It’s a multiplying, majorly monumental stress fit.

Careless Memories
As the court dare approached I tried to block everything else out but my family. I went on those stupid supervised visits but we also tried out my sister’s idea buy hacking my parents take the kids out to Chuck E. Cheese’s or to their favorite hibachi restaurant and I would just “show up” to join them. Rini and Marisa were usually given a lot of tokens or a lot of sushi to keep them occupied from any conversation the rest of us had about how everyone was doing.

Stage 10
Post Telecom Daydream

I used to work at a technical support call center. I was fresh out of high school and thought the idea of being a disembodied voice helping another disembodied voice would be the best thing for me. I could offer my support and in the end, hang up and never hear from them again.
Tragically, the same thing did not apply to my co-workers.

Beware of Darkness

I had no idea how convoluted the family court system was. Even though Chuck told me every time I had to come into his office to sign a paper and, of course, write him a check. I went to therapy sessions, my wife went to therapy sessions too and if I had down a quarter of the things she accused me of doing in those meetings I would have either shot myself or, if I was a major scumbag, congratulate myself on being an outstanding player in the BSDM game.

Picture

Safe and Sound

I grew up going to “Gerald Westminster Fitzgerald Elementary” and then to “Barton Lucas Fuller Junior High”, nothing too great about them...just two schools amongst four other primary schools in town. But, in eighth grade, our neighborhood was split between the two major high schools: “Gerald Westminster High School”—Mr. Fitzgerald was a founding father of the city, so his name was everywhere— and “Wyatt High School, the home of the Pharaohs.”

“‘Tis but a myth,” the wise one said.
She was only wise because she was the only one who had ever gone across the great seas and returned to tell the tale to the young women in the village.
“There are no happy endings. No great desires to be quenched or to believe if you allow yourself to be tied down to that kind of life. Nothing good will come of it.”
We believed her.
Although some had questions and the ones with said questions were usually escorted out of the village in the dead of night—-to where, we dared not ask.

The Last Day of Our Acquaintance

Chapter One:
This is a Rebel Song

Stage 9: Where the Monkey Meets the Man

I sat in one corner of the kitchen with Skully and Ayle in the corners on the far side of the living room.

The couch was turned on its side.
The book shelf was destroyed—and a lot of my books were shredded.
The DVD player had played its last disc.

I would also need to buy a new TV.

Human Touch

Four years later, I graduated from MSU with a degree in engineering and a unique knowledge of Japanese anime thanks to the revolving door of roommates who insisted that we watch “just one more episode” and they would then leave copies of videotapes. I could have opened my own “Bootleg Blockbuster Video” store.

Or at least I could have refreshed the video store back in Caledonia.

I came home for a week or two and then left for Memphis, Tennessee.

Prolog to the Epilogue

Author note:
I wrote this as a VERY short story in 1987 and placed it in the city of Carmel, CA.
Well, I decided to ramp it back and place it back in the town I lived in when it was conceived: Papillion, Nebraska.
The concept is sort of like “Come Back to Texas”, but with a high school freshman vibe.

And yes, Sharon tolerates them due to all of them being in the same class since Kindergarten.

VI. Strong Enough

III. All I Wanna Do
I woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. We may have been at the beach, but the traditional southern breakfast was still the norm.
“We’re all going to the beach,” Sia told me as I walked out of my room.
“Swell,” I replied as Sia’s friend, Kat, ran past the both us to one of the bathrooms.
“You are coming, right?”
I sort of shrugged my shoulders and nodded in reply and then walked to the dining area.
“Where’s dad?” I asked as Mom stacked several pieces of bacon and a biscuit onto a plate for me.

II. Steve McQueen