Friday, October 26, 2012

Flyby, Your Story

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J.M. in DC used the Design Your Story Submission Form section and told me she wanted wanted to get pulled into something and have drama follow her. She wanted a mention of E.L. James and her favorite car the hot Audi R8 involved. Well, I hope you enjoy J.M. 


*There is mild cussing in here, maybe 5 words or less.

October 26, 2012


Flying alone sucks. Not only am I confined to this damn seat but I’m also surrounded by people I can’t get away from. I’m trapped breathing canned air and stuck watching a movie I just saw on cable. 

About the only good thing about flying is that my waitress can’t water down my 50-milliliter bottle of vodka. Thankfully, I can get lost in my book, 50 Shades of Grey by E.L. James. I wonder what the pilot’s doing after work?

[ding]

“Good evening ladies and gentleman from the flight deck”, the pilot begins.

Well, speak of the devil - I murmur to myself.

“We have made our decent into the New York area and have begun our approach to JFK Airport. I just want to thank you all for flying with us and be sure to fly with us again real soon...”

The plane makes its path to the runway and lands without a hitch. The night is lit up by the light that lines the airports runways. But the Big Apple off in the distance casts its light farther and engulfs the night sky as she spreads across the land like a new dawn. She isn’t called “Bright Lights Big City” for nothing.

“I slept right through that flight,” the person’s voice next to me sounds out, striking my ears like daggers making me cringe.

“Yes,” I politely said - of course you did, I practically had to climb over you to pee- I thought, as I faked smiled, as good as any fake orgasm that I have pretended to men just like him.

I’m a simple kind of person with a simple life. I walk among the people in this airport with my head down just wanting to get home. But for all they  know is I could be somebody very important. Maybe I just got back from L.A. from meeting a movie producer. Or just arrived home from my fabulous wine tasting trip in the Chard Farm Vineyards of New Zealand. 

But alas, I’m just Jenny, your friendly Asian insurance analyst, overseas division, “hi.” 

I want to do something daring, something out of the norm...I want a free ride home from the airport.

“Hey I’m Smith-Roy,” I said to the friendly chauffeur who was waiting by the luggage area for his passenger.

The young man looked at me as strangely as it felt for me to lie about who I am, just for a free ride home.

Your Smith-Roy,” he reiterated back to me.

“Yup,” I said with a sneer, what the hell am I doing- I thought to myself. “Here’s my bag,” I said handing it to him.

There was a pause between us. It was a stare down like a poker bluff. Both of us not too sure what the other one was thinking. The crowd of people begin to push past us and their current was taking us in their direction. A person can only stand in one place so long in this busy airport before you have to choose to move on your own or just get sucked in with the momentum of the crowd.

“Okay,” he said “lets go,” he motions to me with his arm. We begin to walk outside the airports door to our waiting car. 

“Holy shit an Audi R8,” I exclaimed.

My eyes mesmerized by the glaring of the overhang lights reflecting on its black paint. I got lost in the lines of the car as the contours raced around its circumference. It sat low to the ground resting on it’s 19” rims. It’s air intake system taking my breath away. Then it hits me.

“These are the new transportation cars,” I asked with confusion.

“Get in the car now,” a familiar voice rang out.

“It’s you, the guy who slept next to me on the plane,” I said trying to regain myself.

“Get in the damn car, now,” he said. His stare digging into my skin compelling me to do exactly what he said.

I heard him thank “John” the helpful chauffeur as he slammed my car door. I cringed but I don’t know if it was from the knowledge that I was trapped or the fact that he was so rough with this car.

He opened the drivers side door and jumped in the car. The car sped off into the travel lane.

“Who are you,” I asked sternly.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing,” he shouted as he shifted the 5.2 liter V10 engine in to gear while crossing several more lanes. The speed of the car picks up and I feel my body sink into the seat.

“I’m Smith-Roy,” I said with some confidence.

“Impossible,” he said as he shifts another gear as he guides the car on the Van Wyck Expressway, “ I’m Smith-Roy and Smith -Roy doesn’t exist.”

“Okay,” I shout, “I’m Jenny, I just wanted a free ride home so I pretended to be YOU but I didn’t know he knew who YOU were so now I am in trouble for being YOU when now all I want to be is ME.”

“Why are you following ME,” he asked as he continues to speed in his R8.

“I’m not following you,” I said annoyingly, even though I am not in position to have such an attitude, “I told you what happen, I live in the Highland Park area, I have a little dog, and I sell insurance” I nervously said. 

The car accelerates as he weaves in and out through traffic.

“Just pull over and let me out I’ll catch a cab.”

“I can’t let you out now. They're behind us and if we stop then we are dead,” he said looking over at me.

“Just watch the road will you,” I told him sternly like I was his wife. 

“I just wanted to get home, I wanted a little adventure. I thought sneaking in someones car for a ride home would be no big deal and I get in a car with Captain America.”

“Will you stop back-seat driving me,” he exclaimed.

It’s dark out but the outside scenery moves past us with intensity. He was on a mission to get some distance from whoever it was that was after him and I could tell this was real.

“Did you say they will kill us,” I questioned,” No-no-no, they want you for whatever you did they don’t want to kill me.”

“They have been following me since I got on that flight, “he said talking as fast as the car was moving, “You sat next to me on the plane, you went with my driver, your in my car, they think your with me.”

“And why am I in your car,” I said with frustration.

“I had no choice or you’d have been followed home and killed.”

The cars LED lights reflecting off the other cars in traffic as we close in the gaps with our speeding Audi.

“Who are they,” I demanded to know.

“Look the less you know the better of you are,” he said, “ they are The Suits and they are after me. I have something they want. I have something they always want and they  will never stop coming for me, ever.”

The car comes to a stop at a familiar place to me even in the vail of night.

“Here Highland Park, get out and hurry.”

“No wait,” I said, “How do I know I’ll be safe?”

“If you wake up alive tomorrow then your safe.”

He accelerates the car as the car door releases from my hand and shuts with the speed of the Audi. I can only watch him drive off in the distance. 

“Shit, there goes E.L. and my 50 Shades,” I thought. Literally my bag was in the small storage behind the seats.

As the car’s tail lights fade away into the night, headlights appear off in the distance and they are heading my way. 







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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Brick by Brick

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October 24th, 2012

Sometimes I just zone out while life goes on around me. But in my trance I stay focused on the objects off in the distance as my pupils pick up the moving trees and squirrels just beyond my eyes reach and beyond my care of relevance.

My mind goes into the deep thought of my subconscious as wonderment swirls around into the base of cerebellum intertwining with my left and right hemisphere. I try to figure out where my life was, where my life is, and where my life is going. My eyes catch the tree branches sway in the light breeze and my brainwaves follow it, bouncing like a wooden baton in the hands of its conductor. My thoughts in synch of the beat like an orchestra but for me, in this moment, it’s out of tune.

There is a myriad of thoughts going on in my mind and I continue to look straight ahead. I suppose I am trying to ignore memories that force me to recall the past and I’m doing what I can to ignore those flashbacks, if even for a few minutes.

It’s not a good time to be vulnerable to my thoughts because my immune system is weak due to being sick. The sickness, this vulnerability, makes me more willing to succumb to my deep emotions. I can feel the tears well up in my eyes. And like an overflowing dam they release from my tear ducts and stream down my cheeks, contour my chin, where they re-pool and drip onto my lap.

My body is aching from the flu but I haven't accumulated enough time since my bereavement to take a day off. I'm left to suffer through the misery of a congested chest, lost voice and stuffy head. It's one of those days where your bed seems like the place to be long before you left your house behind to travel on your morning commute. Well, okay those are most days, but this day my bed is where I really, really, really want to be. The bed covers and pillow calling out to me. The linen is still warm from my body heat, the indentions from my body still in place. I refocus my eyes into the nothingness before me trying to forget what’s on my mind and the emotions coursing through my veins. I have to get it together.

I’m sitting in my car and I am about 1 football field away from that nothingness that has captivated me. I focus my vision deeper into the brick wall that is off in a distance. The red hues from the 2 x 2 concrete stones stand out, while I count the number of bricks that lay in a row. I constrict my retinal blood vessels even more causing disfigurement on my optical disc that are playing tricks on the internal working of my eyes. It forces blackness to shroud around my surroundings. My vision moves forward, quickly like a high octane action movie as my vision takes flight creating tunnel vision.

My surroundings that encompass my environment bend forming a telescope. I’m in a trance. My cylinder vision is fixated on its singular object. My mind starts to fade out the nonsense that has been dominating my thought process and making my sickness even more unbearable but now the pain is starting to subside. The thoughts dissipate in the receding waves of my thought process.  In this moment I am free. Free from thought, from sickness, free from fear, and free of being trapped inside myself. I’m here in the present, but really my reality doesn't have to exist.

I’m out along the lines that form the bricks that are evenly distributed, stacked 60 high and 40 across. I'm strolling the smooth mortar that separates the other bricks by a half an inch from touching each other.  I'm walking up the sturdy center, like stairs, to bring me to a higher place. I'm examining their tough outer shell as they stand together protecting the ones inside her masonry. I know I can use their sturdiness to rebuild again.


And as fast as I stayed focused forward, I am brought back to my beginning of the depths that make me who I am. Like those bricks I can stand strong and do my best to withstand any storm. Through this sickness, through this pain and through life's lessons, brick by brick.







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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.