Monthly Archives: March 2011
July 4th 2010
A wooden floor rests beneath the feet of a porcelain-faced woman. The dress she wears is from the Victorian age. There are frilly ends to every end she has. There is a large plush to the dress that adds to the elegance. Her back is flat against the wall as if she had been practicing her posture. Her white knuckles and extended arms hold tightly to the front of the armrest in her oak dinner chair. She’s holding on because the ship has tilted so far that she’s now on her back. The sharks head, no body attached, is hardly noticeable at first, though its teeth are resting around the entirety of her neck. As I notice this, the teeth sink slowly and nearly effortlessly into her neck, sprouting a dark purple color into her dress that had been so elegant.
The restaurant was brightly colored. The small table I sat at barely fit the four of us. Chad, one of my bosses, looked at me with his dark and serious eyes. His moustache didn’t dare hide any left-overs from his mouth. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was going to pay. I looked to where the waitress might be, and saw her with his card. If it weren’t for me just knowing it was his, the name would have been written in 100-point font across the front. I quickly stand to my feet and get to her before she begins the process of swiping and validating his card. I look at her as if she’s mad. I had planned on voiding the entirety of the check so that I wouldn’t have to pay for it, when I realize I don’t have my manager’s card on me.
I’m sitting in my mother’s living room, white walls, simplistic, with a boarded up fireplace, and a television on the floor. The television gives off enough light to see that there are clothes strewn about the floor, even though the main lights are off. There on the sofa is my handsome boyfriend curled up presumably sleeping. I call out his name again and again. I soon stand from my chair and approach his location. I can now see that he’s unresponsive and leaning over a toilet. Immediately my senses begin to arouse.
“Are you okay?” I’m asking. “What’s wrong? Babe, are you okay?”
I look up to see that two of his guy friends walk into the room. They are talking, as one sits down on the couch. I stand. When they notice me the one begins to hide a small bottle of something behind him.
“What did he do?” I ask, quickly approaching the one and pulling his arm out from beneath his back. From his hands I grab a bottle of Robitussin.
“What dude? We haven’t robo-tripped in a long time!” The one yells at me. I become infuriated that they would give this to my boyfriend. I point at my boyfriend, but as I look at him he has altered. He is wearing the same white t-shirt, but he’s gained five pounds of body hair, and thirty pounds on his gut. I am disgusted at first. I take him in, then look at his face. But I love him, I rationalize to myself.
Now I stand on a boat at sea. It’s only as wide as an airplane. Something terrible has happened, but I am not made privy to it. I begin to fall, as the front of the ship rises skyward. We’re sinking. As we sink a single sharks head falls down from the front of the ship. Everyone is defying gravity and running from the direction of the shark. It’s clearly vicious since it was separated from its body. I land on what once had been a wall when I watch the head bounce twice next to the porcelain faced woman. She’s wearing a blue dress and looking at me very still. She was trying to deter the shark. It looks at her and moves closer through movements similar to if it’s body were still attached. Suddenly from the severed portion of the head a green cocoon wraps around the lady tightly. Her face changes from that of pure surprise to that of defeat. The shark sets his teeth quickly around her throat before I watch the jaw muscles move to quickly squeeze into her neck sending a flood of blood into the beautiful blouse she had worn.
Caleb A. Mertz
It has certainly been a day! It all started with being verbally accosted by some disgruntled servers, then the computers went down, oh and a $150 bottle of wine was refused and returned! Now what am I supposed to do with it?
Well anyway. I sat here wondering what I could write about today. I have been revising the query letter as of late. I also drove by a completely vacant sky scraper today and thought…” I want to buy that.” I also set my alarm for nine a.m. rather than the traditional 10:30 so that I could hit the gym hard. What does it all have in common?
I was DREAMING!
There are always things that we think about or “day dream” about which can entice us to work harder, smarter, or to leave what we have now and continue on with something else. I mentioned it once before when I brought up the Young Artists Syndrome. But this, then, provoked the best imagination that I have. I will happily share some of the craziest dreams that I have with you all, in a dramatic way, written out in a creative form whether it be loose form, poetry, or short prose. I plan on having fun with it, while you get the chance to see inside of this crazy little head.
I used to have a dream journal, but it’s since has been non-existent. But what a great way to log my dreams by writing them out quickly, then reformatting them to read theatrically! Plus I will always have something to write about because I dream often.
Well, definitely let me know what you think about this, but I will be off to bed to dream up something crazy to write about tomorrow! (p.s. I will ACTUALLY get up early to make the gym and write!)
Caleb A. Mertz
In a small bathroom fit with only a small tub where she had to bend her knees to fit entirely, a commode, and a sink did she sing. Her voice grew raspy over the years since she had modeled, never her true passion but it worked well for her. She was one of the models talked about in the past that didn’t worry about hair in her arm pits. She shaved them now as she sang with a cigarette dangling from her lips. The sound of song vibrated through the rose infused room with her strong vibrato’s.
She thought about the blue dress that she wore once. It was memorable by the color alone. She then remembered it merely as the blue dress. It flowed and shined. It embraced and slimmed. It contracted her diaphragm so she couldn’t sing, even if she had wanted to.
She sang now. She sang a song that had no meaning to anyone listening. The noise that beckoned through started from the thumping of her heart. Her heart that would soon fail her. She was only sixty five, yet she sang. She sang the song of her heart. The heart that would fail her. The heart that would fail her dreams of singing. The heart that caused her pain when her husband went away. The heart that was ripped out when her son declared his hatred of her.
Now she sang. But there were tears that accompanied the vocal strings which played. The steam rising from the tub relaxed her. She didn’t worry much on these things, as much as she loved that she had a husband. She loved that she had a son. She loved the two men in her life very much. They were no longer there. They didn’t know of this heart that would soon fail.
Sang she now did, as the heart couldn’t supply the vibrations. Sang she now did from the soul that kept her entire being. Her soul would never fail her. Her soul would remain happy. Her soul will carry on from this world of misery. Her soul won’t care if she didn’t shave her pits.
The singing stopped now as her voice cracked. The singing stopped now as she stared at the wall. The singing…
Ms. Dura Alivoix was a marvelous woman. Ms. Dura Alivoix was a Singer!