Halloween.

Yay for Dominoes, The Gingerdead Man and Monsturd. 

Fiction Friday came early this week!

I am happy to inform you that I am moving right along with my story, again, finally! Hope you like it as much as I do. It's going to be the first short story that I actually finish AND like. Well, hopefully. 

She typed in the name and hit enter. She scrolled through the list. Her eyes were no longer calm.

“Sir,” she started, “it doesn’t look like she’s here.”

Isaac ran to the door and pushed it open. He got in the jeep and started the car. He was out of breath. He sat in the car for a moment and debated where to go next, United Methodist or Riverside Hospital. “Riverside may be closer,” he thought to himself. He buckled his seat belt and he was off.

He was lucky enough to catch all the green lights on his way. He turned into the parking lot and unlike the first hospital he checked, it was a pay lot. He dug his wallet out of his pocket and stuck his card into the machine. “Please wait for ticket,” the machine said. He took the ticket and drove off almost breaking off the gate.

He pulled into a parking spot, this time closer to the door. He unbuckled his seat belt, shut off the jeep, made sure he had the keys, shut and locked the doors and went in.

“I’m looking for Jordan Lawrence,” he told the woman at the front desk.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she said.

“Ma’am, I don’t have a moment,” he replied.

“What was the name?” she asked.

“Lawrence. Jordan Lawrence,” he said.

Isaac was pacing back and forth waiting for the woman to find her. He folded his arms across his chest and stuck his hands under his arm pits. The pits of his shirt were damp.

“Jordan Lawrence is in surgery right now,” she said. “Do you have proof of kinship?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” he said, “I need to see her.”

“Sir, unfortunately I can’t let you back unless you have proof of kinship or her permission,” she told him, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Isaac sat in the waiting room. He was tapping his foot and tapping his cheek with his pointer finger. He sat there and repeated the motions for a few minutes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed Jordan’s parents. It went to voicemail. He hung up and tried again. It went to voicemail again. He browsed through his contacts. Who else could help him?

He called Jordan’s brother Jeremy. It rang a few times and he picked up.

“Jeremy,” he said without giving him a chance to answer, “you need to get to Riverside now.”

“Why?” Jeremy asked?

With my deepest apologies.

So, I will not be posting the next portion of the story that I am working on.

First of all, I'm not far enough to post more. Second of all, I don't really have time to proof read it and edit it.

I wish that I had something ready for you but I don't. I should (cross fingers) have something for you tomorrow. Have a good one and please check tomorrow!

Adieu.

Feeling the flu.

Lesson of the day: college does not care if you are sick. I just personified college. It is like a real person with no feelings for how you are feeling.

I went to work and class sick today all because I had to go to class to pick up a take-home exam. It seems like the most informal form of an exam but I still had to show up to class to get it. What a joke. Another things, I didn't know how to call in sick for my job since I am new at the campus bookstore. I'm not sure what the penalties are for calling in sick the day of without a doctors note.

I know that I am sick. However, I don't think it requires a doctor visit. Well, not yet anyways. I have a mild fever and an upset stomach. Seems like something a healthy diet, sleep and over-the-counter medication will fix.

Hopefully I get better in the next few days. This weekend is going to be exciting. My family is coming up for MEA break and there are hockey games this weekend. I can't wait!

Adieu.

Fictitious.

You've waited patiently, so here is the next part to my short story!

Isaac ran over to the ambulance. Jordan looked at him, unable to say anything all she could do was reach for him. Her hand, still warm, grazed Isaac’s cheek. A tear rolled down his face.

“Sir, you’re going to have to move,” said one of the paramedics. He was tall with dark hair and blue eyes. The sleeves on his shirt were tight around his biceps.

“You don’t understand!” Isaac yelled. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to be with her.”

“Sir, if you aren’t family you can’t ride with,” said the paramedic.

The door closed and the ambulance drove away. The police cleaned up the scene and tore down the tape. Isaac sat in the bus shelter for a moment, got up and looked at the bus schedule and walked back to the jeep.

He propped himself against the car. He breathed in and then out. He dug in his left pocked for the key. That’s where he always put his keys but they weren’t there this time. He ran up the block scanning the ground for them. No luck. He walked back to the jeep and looked through the windows to see if he left them in the ignition. They were there.

He got in, turned the key and drove off.

“Where are they going to take her,” he thought to himself.

There were four hospitals in a three mile radius. Each of them was about the same distance from the bus shelter. Isaac drove to St. Peter Hospital first. They had a highly rated trauma unit.

Red light. Isaac rapped his fingers on the steering wheel in a frantically rhythmic beat. He checked the traffic from the left and then from the right, nothing. He stepped on the gas pedal and looked in his rearview mirror to make sure no police had seen him.

He turned into the parking lot and took the first spot he saw. He went to unbuckle and realized that he had not buckled up in the first place. He made sure to grab the keys out of the ignition, locked the doors and ran to the entrance.

The lady at the front desk had daisies on her scrubs. Her hair was neatly tied back and her eyes were steady and calm.

“My girlfriend just got shot! Help,” he said.

“First name,” she asked.

“Isaac,” he answered.

“I mean your girlfriend’s name,” she said.

“Jordan. Jordan Lawrence,” he said, “she’s 5’6”, 145 pounds and has freckles and..”

“I just need the name,” she interrupted. 

Sorry for the delay.

Fiction Friday is here, a day late. I'm sorry but I was so busy yesterday. I had class, work and a get together at my house so I didn't even have a few minutes to post the next part of my story.

So, without further ado, here it is!

Jordan looked around. She didn’t seem him, at first. She noticed that he had walked around the bus shelter and was standing on the other side of it. He was too close for comfort. It was dark, darker than usual it seemed. There wasn’t a star in the sky and the moon was hidden behind clouds. The bus wasn’t due for three minutes.

The man in the black fleece looked at Jordan. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away. Her face felt hot. She was sweating from pores she didn’t know about until now. He unzipped his black fleece three-quarters of the way down. Slowly he reached into it and held onto something. The bus wasn’t due for two minutes.

The man turned towards the bus shelter and looked at Jordan. Jordan avoided his gaze. He moved towards the bench she was sitting on and pulled his arm out of his jacket.

Jordan jumped off the bench. “He’s gotta,” she blurted out.  

That was the last Isaac had heard from her. He grabbed his coat and put on his shoes. He flung himself down the stairs and out the door. He dug around in his pocket for keys but only had his wallet, a safety pin and Chapstick. He ran back up the stairs and picked up the first set of keys he saw. On his way down the stairs he tried to examine the keys to see whose they were. They must have been a spare set. He mashed the buttons on the remote until the lights on his roommates Jeep flashed. He started the car, switched the lights on and put the Jeep into gear. The wheels catapulted gravel across the driveway as he sped off.

Isaac rolled through stop signs and accelerated through yellow lights. The six minute drive seemed to go on forever even though he was going nine miles over the speed limit.

He found a place to park on the street by the gas station. He put it into park and searched for the handle. The door flew open and Isaac ran to the flashing lights. There was an ambulance and two police cars on scene. It had been fourteen minutes since he hung up the phone. There was already police tape up. No one could pass unless they could prove they were police officers, paramedics or next of kin to Jordan.

Isaac could do none of that. He watched helpless on the other side of the police line. He looked over at the police car. The man in the oversized black fleece was sitting in the back seat with his forehead pressed against the window.

Isaac stared at the man. Trying to figure out what would compel him to shoot Jordan. What did Jordan do? The man in the fleece caught Isaac’s gaze. He stared back at him. No sign of regret or remorse on his face.

Two police interrupted their gaze. The lights on the car flashed and the man was gone. Isaac’s stomach dropped to his feet and his heart was lodged in his throat. For the first time since they started dating, Isaac couldn’t help her. He collapsed onto the curb. He watched car after car go by until he heard the ambulance sirens. The paramedics grabbed the gurney and hurried over to the curb. They hoisted Jordan from the bus shelter and onto the gurney. While one was helping her breathe the other was assessing the wounds. 

Seriously Twins?

Lesson of the day: watching an important division playoff game while you are doing homework is dangerous.

As most of you know, the Twins are in the playoffs. They are playing the most evil team in Major League Baseball, and I don't mean the Boston Red Sox. I'm talking about the New York Yankees. They are not a home-grown team like the MN Twins are. Every single one of their players was another team's talent that was bought and added to the Yankees. There are a few players, like Jeter, who were brought up with the Yankees.

Well, I was doing my homework. All was well, the game was tied and the Twins were playing well. All of a sudden things took a turn for the worst and thats when my homework progress started to fade.

By the time the game was done all of my books were shut, pens and pencils put away and I exited out of Microsoft Word.

I no longer have any motivation to do my homework tonight. So, I am going to watch Date Night and then go to bed. Maybe I'll go get some Taco Bell in between.

p.s. Tomorrow is Fiction Friday! I'm so excited that I almost posted the next page of the story tonight.

Harry Potter marathon.

Lesson of the day: a little (in my case, a lot) of Harry Potter can help with homework.

My roommates and I started the Harry Potter series last night. We watched Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets last night - although we fell asleep for parts of it. We finished up the last 30 minutes of Chamber of Secrets and then started Prisoner of Azkiban. We've watched all the way through Order of the Phoenix.

Guess what? I've gotten more accomplished homework wise in one day than I have so far this semester. I think I am going to have movie marathons more often if it helps with my productivity.

I love love love love the Harry Potter movies. I totally geeked out while watching the first few. Ron, Harry and Hermione all look so young.

So, I typed a few hundred more words in one of my short stories, completed my forum postings for my Methods of Literary study class, read ahead for Writing Fiction, read The Knight's Tale by Chaucer and finished my Methods of Literary Study exam review sheet.

Such a good night. I can go to bed feeling good about how I spent my day! Yay!

Eating pavement.

Lesson of the day: wear shoes with soles. Good soles, like the ones with grippies on them.

Lately it seems that the rain and cement have conspired against me. Cement is slippery when wet - at least when you wear flip flops. I didn't know it was going to rain today. I should have been prepared for anything since I live in Duluth.

Walking home from the bus stop hurt. Half way between my house and the bus stop I slipped and fell right on my rear end. I think it's bruised, badly. To make it even worse there was a parade of cars passing by right as it happened. So freaking embarrassing. I hate the rain. I hate it.

Usually I like autumn rain, but not today. I probably wont like it if it rains tomorrow either. It will make for good studying weather. No real good reason to leave the house if it's raining.

p.s. Anyone who actually reads my blog got two posts today! How lucky for you!

You've waited for it...

and it's here. Well, I've waited for it at least. FICTION FRIDAY!

This week we didn't do as many writing exercises in class, at least none that are share worthy. However, I did get a fabulous idea while I was waiting for the bus the other night. I guess I'm one of those "write what you know" kind of writers. I definitely exaggerated the experience in my story but that doesn't matter. Fiction can be made up and full of lies - those lies have to be believable though.

This class has opened up my writing senses and it's only been four weeks. This semester will really shape me as a writer. I'm loving it. I wouldn't mind getting paid to create short stories for the rest of my life. Alas, that only happens to a few writers. Most writers have a primary job and write on the side. Either would be fulfilling.

I won't keep you waiting any longer. So, here is my story. The first part at least.

Jordan got off late that night. She walked a block from her work to the bus stop. The bus wouldn’t come for a half hour. She sat on the cold, metal bench that was in the small bus shelter. It was big enough for about 3 people, comfortably. She called her boyfriend while she waited. She got his voicemail so she hung up and redialed.

“Hello,” he said as he inhaled shallowly and then quickly exhaled.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Jordan asked.          

“I just ran up the stairs to answer my phone,” he said. “Are you on break?”

“No. I just got off. There weren’t many dishes to do tonight.”

While the conversation continued on about their day, their plans for the night and what they were going to do over the coming weekend, a man wearing a black Columbia fleece that was about two sizes too big for him came into the bus shelter. He checked the schedule, nodded his head and walked down the block towards the gas station. The bus wasn’t due for sixteen minutes.

“Hope the bus is running early,” Jordan said.

“Why? It’s not like you’re planning on doing much,” Isaac said. “You were just going to watch TV and fall asleep anyways.”

“There was a man,” Jordan whispered.

“There are always men Jordan,” Isaac said. “It’s kind of necessary to procreate.”

“I know that,” she said. “It’s just, well, he, I don’t know. I’m paranoid.”

Jordan looked down the block and saw the man in the black fleece walk out of the gas station. He was dragging his left foot. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up immediately. Her gut twisted and did a somersault. He was walking back towards the bus stop.

“The bus there yet hon?”

“No but that guy is walking this way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Usually his promises were reassuring. She had believed his promises for the last four years. He always knew what to say to clear her mind. Tonight was different. She was still worried. She curled her toes in her shoes and made a fist with her hand she had in her coat pocket. The bus wasn’t due for seven minutes.

“Were you busy with something before I called?” Jordan asked.

“No. I’d just gotten home from class,” he said. “Is that guy there?”