I’m in a time crunch and so I’ll post another one of my previous flash/short stories in lieu of coming up with amazing and original prose. It’s a story that’s buried in a post about writing and so unlikely it’s been read by many. Hope it’s enjoyable.
Guido takes a walk
Copyright 2015-2018, E. J. D’Alise
It had been a long day, the third in a row. Guido looks at the sofa; so inviting. He then looks at the TV. He was halfway through streaming the Claymore series episodes.
He looks to the window . . . raindrops are leaving streaks on the outer pane. Sighing, Guido puts on his hat and slicker, grabs the keys, and heads out. He holds little hope of success; it’s been a week since he last had a glimpse, and even then he’d not been sure.
As he steps out, the drops seem to converge on him. He looks up . . . just darkness. He looks both ways and then decides to head north. He’d be walking into the wind, but at least the rain would be at his back on the way home.
He stops at every alley, every empty lot, every underpass. He waits a few minutes, looking around for any movement, any indication of her presence. And then he moves on. This would be the last night he would look.
. . . but he had told himself that every night this whole past week.
He reaches the highway. The road ends at the highway. The nearest crossing is an underpass nearly a mile away. He turns – and there she is. Her hair is plastered to her body, now noticeably thinner. She’s shivering but still eyes him warily as he approaches. He moves slowly, not saying a word. She doesn’t look up as he gets closer. He hugs her, wrapping the slicker around her. He feels her tense, and then relax. They head back.
< < < o > > >
He knocks again. It was late; they might already be asleep. He hears someone approach the door. He sees the light come on and then go dark in the peep-hole, and then hears the door lock. The woman opens the door, the safety chain still in place. Guido opens his slicker. The woman looks down at her, then back up at him. The door closes, and he hears the chain being removed at the same time as the woman yells out a name.
A moment later a sleepy eight-year-old girl stands at the door, her mother resting one hand on her shoulders. Guido unwraps the slicker as he speaks.
“I found your cat,” he says.
The little girl’s eyes get as huge as the smile that grows on her lips.
She rushes forward, taking the cat from Guido’s hands. As Lindsey hugs the cat, the mother asks Guido if he would like to come in for a moment.
“No thank you; you guys have a big day tomorrow, and I need to sleep. Hope your move goes well. I hear Colorado is nice this time of year. Oh, and good luck with the new job.”
They shake hands, and Guido returns to his apartment. He changes from his wet clothes and promises himself “only one episode” as he sits in front of the TV with a warm glass of milk. Tomorrow would be another long day; shelves did not stock themselves.
Come to think of it, most of my regular readers likely have already read the above . . . I can hope for renewed interest since my readers are mostly older and thus memory-challenged. In fact, I’m just hoping they can still find their way here.
And now, the photo:
I’ve shown the color version of this but I also like the B&W version and so . . . here it is. I won’t yet again mention the car or car company as it’s now been posted in three other places. Also, it’s exciting not knowing stuff and trying to find out.
This is an old Willy ‘n Ethel I’d clipped from the newspaper. I have no idea how old it is. I know there are a couple of W’nE collections that are no longer available and are out of print. It depresses me knowing there are probably a good number of Joe Martin cartoons I’ve never seen and will never see.
I know I keep saying it, but I still marvel at just how few lines are used to draw the characters . . . and give them an expression; a personality, even.
Sometimes, I wonder just how unique humans are in their behavior. Obviously, a pressing question is what would a Centipede Bachelorette Party looks like. Well, wonder no more. How do I know it’s not a bachelor party? Male centipedes have a couple of longer legs at their tail end that are used in “their mating ritual”, whatever that means. Ergo, this is a bachelorette party.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.