The prompt: planetary (guess I can't get away from that) - namely, the effects of the recent Supermoon on life.
I'll preface this by saying, that as a person who grew up with Astrology the way other people "grow up Catholic" I do not maintain that extraterrestrial bodies actually influence anything beyond the effects of their gravity and shadows. Supermoons (as well as, you know, the moon) are accidents of perception (and frequently unimpressive ones), but as a literary symbol the moon is indispensable to me.
So here's a different story than the Rich Red Earth - focusing on dialogue instead of description, and actually involving more than one character.
Matches Struck Unexpectedly in the Dark
"-Shrkshrkshrkshrkshrkshrkshrkshrk"
went the spinner on the board, warm
under the square panes of light falling through the windows. A cat bathed
nearby in the glow, swiping her tail to the sound of the spinner.
"Do I have to go to college?
I'd rather use the spin the other way"
"Yeah sure."
"Uh-uh no. You don't get to
change your choice after you spin"
"Really? Yeah, I don't want to
get too far ahead of you guys, that's all that matters."
The week had been nothing but
indecisive rain and cold blue skies. June was always like this - a shy girl
hanging on whatever favors the Pacific had in store. Sometimes there was even
frost, and frequently there were tulips and barbecues and rivers running full
of buoyant men in tubes - running gold with beer glass and urine.
Today was a bright sun tempered by
a sharp cold wind. Wide under the glass of the windows the wood floors and rugs
cooked in the light - unshaken by the breeze. Tomorrow would be rain and sleet
and a damp aroma, but today the sun was hot indoors.
A long day had come and gone
already.
"Did Lily have her shower
yet?" said a girl with brown hair and eyes whose whites swelled when they
caught the light. Another spin.
"No it's coming up this
Saturday" said the boy cross-legged on the couch beside her, moving the
blue car with its blue figurine across the tiles.
A voice from the ground rose
up, "Oh crap that's Carlos' birthday, he's going to be pissed if I
miss it - 21st, that's the one that matters" a hand began stroking absentmindedly the absentminded cat.
"No Lily's going to that with
Gabriel and all of us" said the girl, and the boy on the floor replied
"She shouldn't be drinking,
you know with th-"
"She's not pregnant, you
idiot, she's just stupid and clingy" she said, "but wait, if
she's going to his party then when's her shower?"
"Fuck. Mike if you made us
miss that I swear to God." said the boy, uncrossing his legs
"It's fine. She wouldn't have
her bridal shower in June. When have I ever let you down? I got you together, didn't I?"
The empty sky drew a short yawn of
clouds low on the ground and blushed at its frayed edges. The girl
started to wring the air from her lungs, stretching out her arms in a smooth
crescent. Widening and filling up with air again she said,
"God I hate summer. I miss
school. I need stuff to do."
"It's Sunday, you'd be here
anyway. Dude take your turn." said the boy, caught up in the aroma's she
gave off with each movement.
Mike on the floor gave a snort
and drew himself up. The cat gave a sudden bite to his retracting hand.
"Fuck, what did I do to
you?" He asked, seriously. The cat gave a dull, knowing look, and got up
to depart, tail whipping side to side the way a long dress moves around
corners. "Stupid animal"
"Says the stupid animal who pets
the cat wagging her tail." said the boy, "Wagging tail means fuck
off."
"Hey, animals should all act
the same way. Wagging tail means pet me. Don't blame me cats don't understand
how things work."
The girl rolled her eyes, wiping
imagined hairs from her face. "We missed her shower. She is not going to
let us live that down."
"We got her a gift, that's all that matters. Dude, take your turn."
Mike stretched his legs back out
along the floor and took his turn. More spinning until the sun set with a harsh
glare.
"Do we have anything to
eat?" The boy asked, getting up from the couch.
"It's late, don't eat, you
know I can't eat anything after six."
"Blood tests tomorrow, right,
that sucks. Mike you got any chips or something?"
"Yeah dude, cupboard to the
right of the oven."
"Guys, seriously? It's one thing I can't-" she
said, but their laughter disarmed her. "Anyway, let's do something else,
like anything else."
"Really? I'm rocking this
though!" Said Mike, straightening up, mermaid like, against the table to
look at the girl.
The boy's voice came from the
kitchen, muffled by the crunch, carrying the particular aroma of corn
nut. "Dude, you've been asleep this whole time, you don't really want to
keep going."
Mike was unfazed, "Hey, I
worked six days this week, so maybe I'm a little tired." He said, looking
to the girl for her support. She smiled again despite herself and shook her
head. Her smile poisoned him to smile as well. There was quiet as the room temporarily darkened, and the girl brushed
her hands against her uncreased stomach.
"I'm still having fun with
it" Mike said, lying back against the floor.
"Kevin-Evaline, you stop
eating and get back here." said the girl, moving her legs up onto the
couch.
"Baby, you cannot call me
that, seriously, you've got to have something better than that." the boy
returned, with a spring to his step, leaning over the girl with a predatory
smile.
"No, no, no - you smell like
Frito's, I'm not kissing you."
"Baby, come on, you've got to
lo-ove me anyway" he sang with a loose swaying of his neck back and forth, but
the squirming girl got free.
Mike rubbed the soft tooth marks on
his hand. No blood, just a decade of mistrust towards felines incubating.
The girl gave a kick to the boy,
square in the stomach. His smile was muddied by stained saliva and half a
grimace.
Mike smiled at the sight of it.
"-'atta girl, make him work for it."
She got up and ran the dry fibers
of her hair through her hands. "Oh whatever."
The boy, his conquest failed, fell
back on the couch, tracing the glittering dust as it fell through the light when she stood up. The room had gone cold, but the night was full and bright like day, and
filled the room more evenly with soft light.
From the floor, Mike began to dismantle
the little plastic bridges and uproot the green mountains, back into the box
they came from.
"Ha, look, the little guys are
in an orgy" he lifted the bag to show the blue and pink chips of plastic
in their silent debauchery, every one alike.
"You're an idiot." said
the girl, smiling. The disc of her eyes were clear, bright, and overlarge. "Kev, where's
my phone I need to call Lily."
"Why? Don't worry about it,
you don't need to talk to her if you don't want to" He said, stretching
out his arm to reach the light switch, his finger falling lazily- just out of
reach.
"Just give me my phone."
said the girl with a start, pulling on her legs- down, and then rubbing the veins in her
arms, a clear blue in the darkness.
"Babe, it's fine. It's late,
you're here with me, just forget about it."
Mike tore up the spinner and swung the board to its metered collapse. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling as though he'd forgotten something.
Mike tore up the spinner and swung the board to its metered collapse. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling as though he'd forgotten something.
"Kevin, seriously. Just give
me my phone."
"Why do you want it now? Why
do you want to call her?"
"I'm just going to call my
parents, don't be such a bitch, Kev"
"No, you want to call Lily,
even though you said that whole thing was over with you."
She laughed brightly with her eyes, and gave him a soft punch.
She laughed brightly with her eyes, and gave him a soft punch.
"Oh my god, fuck you, she's
getting married I can call her if I want to"
Mike rose from the floor, and piled
the last of the board into the box, closing it tight.
"Is this really worth talking
about, guys?" he said, taking the box out of the room.
Kevin rose up eagerly, brushing the dust off of himself.
"No, no, of course not. Let's just do something."
The girl rubbed her forehead,
pulling back her hair.
"Fine, just. Fine. Let's just,
watch TV or something."
"Babe, sorry, uh-your phone I think
is charging on the island."
"Thanks" she said,
walking past him, rubbing the blue of her veins with feigned curiosity.
Mike returned, seeing a miniature
tragedy - an upturned car over a slip of blue and two of pink.
"Fuck, there's always one that
gets left out" he said, scooping them up.
The girl's voice was ringing in the
eaves; she examined her silhouette in a mirror as she spoke her message,
incantations for a later time.
"Call me back when you get
this" she concluded with a soft tone.
"Message?" said Kevin, as
she returned, just to ward off the silence.
"Yeah, she's probably out
or... unwrapping gifts."
"Look, Babe, I'm sorry I
didn't think-"
"Oh god just drop it."
She said, swiping the hair from her eyes.
"Look I don't want this to be
a problem"
"It's not a problem, okay? You
just, you just don't get what you're doing."
Mike exhaled, turning his eyes to
the bright windows. His friend the cat was perched in the sill, eyes heavy with
moonlight.
The girl began to well-up with
tears, and Kevin couldn't come to meet her gaze. She held them back admirably,
her pupils drawn to pinpoints.
"I didn't... I didn't want to
miss her shower, because otherwise it makes it seem like I'm still... I don't
know."
"Babe, it's okay, it's all in
the past now" said Kevin, with a slight tremor.
"I don't want her to think
that I've got a problem with her"
"Isn't that what I'm for? To
show you've moved on" he replied.
The girl dropped her brow and wiped the shine from her eyes.
"No, you're not just - That's
not what you're for, it's not just that."
He rolled his shoulders, unsatisfied, and speaking softly said, "Right, glad to hear I'm not just to prove your little les phase is over."
He rolled his shoulders, unsatisfied, and speaking softly said, "Right, glad to hear I'm not just to prove your little les phase is over."
"Oh my god. Why, why the fuck.
You just don't understand anything at all, do you?"
"Oh sorry, did I break one of your
rules? I'm supposed to be the one you freak out over."
Mike strained to hold his breath,
he was suddenly aware of his body’s weight - and every possible creak of the
wood floor.
The girl held her forearms,
squeezing them on and off to the beat of her heart.
"They're not rules. They're
not... it's not. Sorry if I just think we could be a little happier if you
weren't such a dumbshit."
"God we get it you've got
problems - we can't talk about this - nobody mention this - that might upset
her and oh no how terrible would that be."
"Kevin. Stop it. You're just
out of control." she said, her throat drawn tight as a drum.
"Maybe if you didn't just hang
on every fucking thing you'd realize I'm just looking out for you."
Mike couldn't move slowly enough.
He tried to twist, to avert his eyes, but every creak of bone and muscle
sounded like alarm bells. He wasn't sure his legs would both support him. Now he was drowned in a pity party - martyrs all
around. He physically bit down on his tongue at its sides, trying not to make a
noise by swallowing. Was it respect that kept him silent or just annoyance now? The cat looked out on the world she no doubt believed was hers to rule.
In the girl's hand her phone began
to buzz lightly, her whole arm trembling. Mike ducked out, gripping the plastic car and plastic technicolor corpses to return them to the box he'd packed away. He didn't want or didn't need to help.
Kevin looked down at the light
strewn floors, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the rough fur that clung
there, and licking his teeth in discontent.
The girl left the room as a bright
voice rang in the eaves with a faint electric twang.
"Hey, what's up I'm so sad you
couldn't make it-"
Mike tucked the last pieces he'd
smuggled back into their box to disappear. He leaned against the wall to hear the house
breathing. It never did take much. He saw the day he first introduced them, the stutter in his voice as her eyes lit up, and he saw the messages he'd written but never sent. To her, to him. He couldn't help because that was just how they were - that's how he'd set them up.
Outside the window he saw the green lawn - greener still in the moonlight. The clean road and tightly bound rose heads sitting thornless on the bushes. He saw hungry, waiting mailboxes in their neat line, and windows - just as often dark as full of light, stretching out by the thousands. He saw the contours of the driveways and the shadows of the cars fall between the thin gaps of the windows. He saw his half-reflection in the glass.
Outside the window he saw the green lawn - greener still in the moonlight. The clean road and tightly bound rose heads sitting thornless on the bushes. He saw hungry, waiting mailboxes in their neat line, and windows - just as often dark as full of light, stretching out by the thousands. He saw the contours of the driveways and the shadows of the cars fall between the thin gaps of the windows. He saw his half-reflection in the glass.
The sounds all fell to a soft din.
There was nothing, not even a shout, in the street. The empty air hung full of
light, and everything was smothered in its bare illumination.
Review:
I guess I have a thing
for stories where nothing happens. This one was a little scattered. I needed
something different (always something different) but I guess I only do things a
certain way. It was scattered in part because it's the love-child of two different
stories. The first was supposed to be a conversation between three people which
would be a metaphorical thing between Adam, Eve, and God (I considered using
the moon to show a certain permanence through time). The topic of conversation
was Lilith, and it was all about morality and how difficult life is and how no
one can understand eachother and we're all alone and sad. So pretty much par
for the course for me. I really need to shake the Biblical allusion thing, so I
thought of doing something else.
The second story was one friend observing the people in his life simmer to boiling during a bright night. He contemplates what hand he had in their difficulties, and what was out of his control, and then realizes at the end that he's alone and that just because he's above their strife doesn't mean he's superior. Also pretty much where my mind goes.
So this is what you get when you temper the first overly symbolic story with the second overly contemplative story and do your best to avoid describing anything - since you went overboard on that last time. I lack the talent to do things deftly.
So we start with an onomatopoeia. Shirking is obviously going on here, but the other interpretation is Shirk, the gravest sin of Islam, hallowing other things above god (See, that's technically not a Biblical reference, because it's from the Quran! So ha) Of course that's a pretty tangential reference - it's not that people are worshiping incorrectly, they just have a very different understanding of what matters and what's important.
A lounging cat sets a certain stage. The wagging tail simultaneously lazy and ominous (if you know the body language of cats).
The second story was one friend observing the people in his life simmer to boiling during a bright night. He contemplates what hand he had in their difficulties, and what was out of his control, and then realizes at the end that he's alone and that just because he's above their strife doesn't mean he's superior. Also pretty much where my mind goes.
So this is what you get when you temper the first overly symbolic story with the second overly contemplative story and do your best to avoid describing anything - since you went overboard on that last time. I lack the talent to do things deftly.
So we start with an onomatopoeia. Shirking is obviously going on here, but the other interpretation is Shirk, the gravest sin of Islam, hallowing other things above god (See, that's technically not a Biblical reference, because it's from the Quran! So ha) Of course that's a pretty tangential reference - it's not that people are worshiping incorrectly, they just have a very different understanding of what matters and what's important.
A lounging cat sets a certain stage. The wagging tail simultaneously lazy and ominous (if you know the body language of cats).
It's a good day for pathetic fallacy. "A long day had passed already" both the day in question (June 23rd) and the Summer Solstice. The reign of the day is over, they're getting shorter and the night is swelling from here on out. Also, there's the fact that it's cold outside but behind the glass of the windows the house is balmy. All the tension is coming from within. I can attest that the weather here confounds every spring.
Mike is the one who was certain the shower wasn't in June. His assertion that June is somehow a bad month for Lily (Lilith) runs counter the fact it's named for Juno - the goddess of marriage in Greek Mythology and notorious grudge-holding genocidal bitch.
We get some characterization, a miscommunication with the cat that foretells future strife. In a story influenced by the moon a cat has a Witch's Familiar sort of vibe.
There's a movement from collectivity to individuality throughout the story. It begins without the voices being defined, slowly the individuals carve themselves out from the others, and in the end we're left with a single mind alone - utterly cut off from everyone and everything. What's at first a mutual burden "she's never going to let us live that down" becomes more and more personal. Blame gets shifted somehow - life just doesn't work out nicely sometimes.
I didn't want a big bright moon overhanging the story, so I tried to play on its quality as a reflector of light. A moon is only "the moon" when you see it from Earth. Silver-shining and looming and waxing into its mysterious darkness. Of course it controls the tides - and that too is an odd accident of the cosmos, pushing the the water to its break.
The girl is always pairing the wrong emotions with the wrong appearances. A swift kick with a laugh, a "fuck you" with a smile. It's eternal evasion.
The remnants - the dregs of the more metaphorical story remain. Kevin-evaline is just a funny play with syllables. It also marks him as the Eve to the girl's Adam (whose job is to name the creatures of the Earth and here doesn't succeed). Mike, who works six days (and sweeps away the mountain and the people from the board) is roughly God. Kevin as Eve sins by eating something corny (it's odd how much I hate that smell but love the taste). He's breaking the one rule. The girl is rubbing her stomach as much from hunger as to muse on her lack of a navel (and arguably there's still the question of Lily's supposedly shotgun wedding being a matter of pregnancy - women's stomachs just have that inherent richness).
Blood tests could be HIV. It could be routine. Perhaps it explains her concerns, her state of mind. Perhaps it's a blood red herring.
Mike sees the little people pegs all crushed together in an orgy, which both reveals his unique brand of unfortunate humor and his imperfect timing. He starts out initially on the floor (the tensions always rise with the people in this story) but he also needs something to support him. He's legless, both mermaid-like against the table, swaying during the confrontation, and leaning against the wall at the end of the story. He's top-heavy in a sense.
The girl (never named) is most awash in the eery blue light of the moon. The night is "bright like day" (recalling a scene in Sonny's Blues, when a "traffic accident" occurs). The blue is in her veins, and she's drawn to fiddling and rubbing herself - there's something wrong. There's the undertone of self-harm in her vein fixation, alongside general discomfort when she's wiping her hair.
She also leaves behind a sparkling dust in the moonlight, which at first enchants Kevin alongside her aroma. He's later brushing off the dust, but not before reaching for a lightswitch in a vague Creation of Adam image. There's no artificial light in the room - just the mounting moonlight.
Kevin rubs his neck to find its fur - an uneventful lycanthropy. Mike sweeps up a mini traffic accident. A little on the nose, two girls and a guy - though Mike realizes this and has to be a little hurt that he's not represented there.
Eyes are my stand in for the moon - the pupils unnaturally contracted in the night. The cats eyes and the whites of the girl's eyes are where the moon's light is really taking hold.
Mike shuffles the victims of the car crash into a box to disappear and unto death. This isn't a story where the conflict comes to its orgasmic resolve. Like life, it's just as often interrupted - disguised by pleasantries. All that's left for him is avoidance, tucking into another room away from it all. Incidentally, that's the place where he's free from his former paralysis to look out the windows and see the vastness and closeness of the world outside. Yet here too he's staying still. He still needs support to stand. Arguably nothing at all has changed.
Like the moon, nothing's changed physically. The light's just shining a different way, showing different things, and casting new shadows.
