I never liked scripts

I lost my script
and tried to wing it.
Then lost my feathers
and broke a leg
I guess it's fine.

Responsibility

I have to.
I want to.
I have to want
because want comes last
I don't want to have to.

Don't forget your jacket

Can you hear that familiar music?
Something special isn't it? - I call it my getaway.
Each beat spins my mind in a million recognizable ways.

You can hear it in the silence of the night,
where it's lit up by the street lamps, allowing my passing
shadow to dance between the bottomless puddles on the road.

The fog hides my complacent incomplete grin
complete with a pair of fingers tapping, two o'clock on the wheel,
and my toes cramped in my shoe, trying to stay in beat.

Mind Block

I'm having a hard time putting words down. I have vague ideas that I may like to express but no clue as to how I'm to do this. I've done some photography today too, and wasn't too impressed with much of the shots. There is a serious lack of connection with any subject I shoot lately. I don't know what subject/idea/style to focus on. I could go for something short-esque, as long bodies of writing seem like too much commitment at this point. Anyway, anything that would kick start the creative process is welcome. Comment away and help me get something down.

Long Way Home

She was tired, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her eyes open. I didn't mind, I've always seen it as a token of trust, to be able to succumb to sleep, leaving me to drive the distance home. In fact, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Across the horizon, a full moon drifted in and out of clouds, giving light to the road where street lamps were absent. The window was cracked, allowing smoke to escape and let some of the cool air mix with the heat bellowing from the vents. The howl of the wind was dulled by the dancing music energized by the late hour.

Given the chance, I snuck glances at Gail's peaceful complexion, made visible by the beams of oncoming traffic. Her hair, pulled back with the same handkerchief she wore when we first met, and the same perfume scented the air. Each bend in the road caused her to stretch and reposition herself back to sleep. Sometimes she would stir, opening one eye at me and extending a smile while turning up the music. I wished we could drive all night, settling on the long way home.

Get Away

It's as though she could read my mind, unexpectedly resting on the hood of my Jeep. A sight for sore eyes and a clouded mind. Immediately I couldn't help but laugh, "Always popping out of nowhere. I was wondering when I'd run into you next."

"Got to keep you on your toes!", she smiled back while taking a leap off the front bumper. "I'm hoping this one's yours, I guessed. But right or wrong, it worked out as planned."

The doors were unlocked, yet just like everyone else that takes a ride, she stood there waiting, later to make excuses and lectures on how I should lock my door and that next time she'll take stuff.

"So where are we going?" She got comfortable quick and snapped on her seatbelt.

"Well, now that I got this pleasant surprise I say we get some fresh air?"

"Let's do it!"

The stereo caught up with the rest of the car, and the music began to dance from the speakers. Her hand brushed against mine as I shifted into gear, intercepting her sloppy reach for the volume knob. "Hmm, a manly man eh?" mocking my choice for a manual transmission, forcing me to confirm that the cool factor did contribute to the selection. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head with disbelief, which soon blended with the music and demonstrating her sense of rhythm. I put on the most absurd macho expression on my face and hammered on the gas, sending her deep into the seat.

"So where are we going?"

My brow raised in attempt to build suspense. "I've had an idea for some possible pictures," I teased, purposefully withholding my plans.

"Dedicated! Do you take your camera everywhere?" I nodded and pointed to the backpack I had recently tossed into the back seat. This stirred her to fish it out, bumping the bag into the back of my head, in turn making me drift slightly out of my lane. Her small fingers worked the dials and buttons and soon she was reviewing the last of my shots.

"Ha, I figured it out." she grinned with accomplishment.

"Haven't done much since the last time you looked."

"Well, I guess we're going to change that today hu?" Eager, interested, spontaneous and let's not forget, she smells nice. "So what's the thought floating in your head?"

"Rocks."

Soon we found ourselves sitting by the waterfall, away from all the troubles. The only sound between us was the snapping of small stones against each other, followed by the occasional collapse of the empire we spent the recent minutes building. Eventually, we silently agreed upon our creation and I drew my camera. Laying on the ground, I squinted through the view finder, focusing the image. Cutting through the silence, her breath escaped slowly as to not disrupt the tower in front of us.

"Gail?" I held my breath and released the shutter.

"Hmm?" The camera snapped open and close, flashing the satisfying image onto the small screen. Just as I pictured.

"Thanks for cheering me up."

Park Bench Daydream

I found myself sitting on a bench, replaying in my mind the conversation I had with Gail. Even the thought of it made my spine tingle with anxiety. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and hoped that I'll hear same voice echo, "How's the dream?"

"Frighteningly real." My lips gestured the words and my eyes opened, almost expecting to see her sitting next to me, but the chill breeze remained unshielded on my side. Yet, I was still able to imagine that someone was with me, and nodded my head as though to greet the passerby, approaching from just beyond the scope of my peripheral sight. My heart began to beat faster with the anticipation, harder and harder, forcing me to look around. Nothing.

I couldn't help but to become absorbed in a slight sense of disappointment, still hell bent on willing her to show up randomly as she did before. All senses focused, I let the dream take over. Cutting through the scent of grass, I imagined her perfume flooding my surroundings. Eyes closed, the camera in my hand felt heavy, as though tugged. Recalling the images captured in recent days, I yearned to share them with her, perhaps inspiring further stories.

My grip loosened and I could feel the strap slowly sliding between my fingers. The wind that once cooled my arm, suddenly absent. Vanilla swirled in the air and landed next to me with a nudge of the bench, seemingly in slow motion. Again a smile stretched across my lips as I held my breath, waiting for the words. With each second that passed by, the air in my lungs pushed the anticipation further outward. I felt it flood my arms and radiate through my palms. Nothing was said, and I refused to open my eyes, accepting that today I will only see her with them closed.