A beautiful storm
An intrepid storm crashed ashore, faning the lighthouse’s fervant flame. As tepid waves recede away only imprints remain. Grains of time radiate warmth as the lighthouse flame flickers dim. Torpid waves sound on distant shores as the storm disapates, leaving harbor disheaveled and the lighthouse flame fades away.
A Beautiful Storm
An intrepid storm crashed ashore, faning the lighthouse’s fervant flame. As tepid waves recede away only imprints remain. Grains of time radiate warmth as the lighthouse flame flickers dim. Torpid waves sound on distant shores as the storm disapates, leaving harbor disheaveled and the lighthouse flame fades away.
Close To Home
News flies through the airwaves all around, instantaneously arriving at devices that everyone carries within an arm’s reach at all time. The chimes, sometimes simple vibrations, chirp all around as the devices sound off their receptive greetings. Some bask in the screen’s glow as a newscast completes its voyage into their neural canals, displaying its pristine newscaster discussing another tragedy with a cold, calculated professionalism. They respond in turn by sharing it with other devices, adding some personality along with their opinion of the news: sympathies, condolences, outrage, or sometimes praise.
Carl’s device was no different. He checked it as it sounded off to glance at the newscast’s headline; ‘Shooting in Grisdale, click to find out where’. As grim as it was, he shrugged as he scrolled past it. These things happened all the time, why should this one shock him any more than the shooting at the school last week three towns over? These things happen all around, but at least they don’t happen here. Carl put his phone back into his pocket and picked up his drill as he went back to work replacing an old door that had broken free from its bottom hinge.
“Attention staff, Code Blue in Oncology. Repeat, Code Blue in Oncology.” The smooth voice came from a speaker in the hallway behind Carl. As he turned toward it, he saw a flock of people wearing scrubs rushing his way causing him to quickly grab his things and open the doorway he’d been working on.
“Ha, don’ see that everyday eh?” Carl looked to see James walking up to him. “And you say nothin’ ever happens here.”
“Very funny. Glad to see you could finish smoking long enough to help me today.”
“You ain’t don yet? Damn, here I thought I was thinkin’ we’d be able to go.” James laughed as he grabbed the door from Carl and held it in place.
“Keep it up smokie, you’ll be the next one they call. Kkrrzzsskk ‘Attention staff: Code Blue in the smoke shack. Repeat, Code Blue in the smoke shack.’”
Carl drilled in some screws. James smiled as he let go of the door.
“C’mon, we still have a shitton of doors to finish and it’s almost lunch time already.”
James gathered their things up and they walked down the hall toward the next door. “Speakin’ of, what we doing for lunch? Or did you bring yer own again? ‘Ohh I’m Carl. I’m tryin’ to save ma money and eat healthier. I just love not eatin’ burgers an’ tacos with ma friend James’ ahhahaha” James always found his jokes funnier than anyone else.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what, you trying to find something to get –” James had rushed off to look out of the nearby window at the front lawn of the hospital, dropping their things in the hall. Several squad cars were pulling into the roundabout and several more had blocked the entrances to the parking lot. “What the hell? That must’ve been one hellova Code Blue!”
Bang!
The shot rang through the hallway from the nearby waiting area. It was followed by consecutive gun blasts fighting with the rupture of screams for entry into Carl’s ears to see which one could make him react first. They both seemed to be losing as Carl was frozen in place, staring out at the cops.
“Oh fuck, Carl, we gotta go!” James shook Carl’s arm. “We gotta go right the fuck now! Oh fuck!” James ran toward the door they just fixed, but Carl just slowly turned his head toward where the shots had come from. They were currently silent, or perhaps the screams had won the race and were the only sound Carl was allowed to hear. He stared in disbelief at the swinging doors as a terrified face appeared in one of the windows, as if looking at someone gasping for air in a sinking ship’s porthole. Carl locked eyes with the figure, which to him was now a disconnected jumble of light; pixels gleaming through the small window. ‘These things happen all over, but at least’ – another gunshot tore through the screams in Carl’s ears as the face he stared at grew a third eye. Gore covered the screen and the door started to open.
This was real. Carl snapped back into reality. The screams shut off as the only noise Carl heard was the sound of the body hitting the ground in front of him. No, there was another noise. Footsteps. Carl looked up from the body to see a figure step into view. He was holding a rifle of some sort and wore a disfigured face mask. Or was that his face? The man let out a slow, soft laugh as if he was experiencing a hit of pure dopamine. The man raised the rifle as Carl finally thawed into action. He managed to turn and sprint a few steps before hearing the ring of the gun. His left shoulder was set on fire as he was propelled into a room to his right. The last thing he remembered was the sound of a door slamming shut.
“Hurry, grab his legs, we need to get him up the stairs!” The voice crackled as if enveloped in static; a station not quite tuned to Carl’s ears. “We don’t have much… Get that… Around this… To the right, no other… …the table.” The words seemed to be grouped together, but came in short bursts as if they were fragmented echoes colliding deep in a cave.
A quiet murmur tore through the dark that surrounded Carl’s mind. His world crept back into the light as he opened his eyes and moved his head. “Ugh, swherre am I?” Everyone in the room turned and looked at him. There were a good dozen people, several in scrubs, huddling in the small, dark conference room.
“Shit, look Mary, Carl’s awake!” James walked over and patted Carl on his good shoulder, though it still caused him to wince. “I’as afraid you weren’t gunna make it bud. Glad to see you back.” He looked over to the nurse standing next to him. The girl wore blue scrubs caked with dried blood. She was looking over Carl with green eyes that burned in contrast to her red hair. “This ‘un is Mary, she’s who saved you. I mean, I carried ya, but she did all the doctorin’.”
“Thank you, Mary.”
“I was just doing my duty sir. How are you feeling, may I run a few tests?”
“My mind is still foggy, but I feel alright enough, I guess.”
Mary ran a few basic tests to see if he was alright. “There is rumor of several shooters in the building. There have been explosions too.” She said.
“How long was I out?”
“It’s been about an hour since we got to this room, and we haven’t heard any commotion for about fifteen minutes.” She jotted some notes on a clipboard.
“Shh, I think I hear someone coming.” A man had his ear to the wooden door leading into the hall. Everyone else gathered closer to the door on the opposite wall; someone was holding onto its handle. The footsteps grew louder. The man held up his hand to quiet the already still room. There was some inaudible voices, followed by some rustling. A second man wearing scrubs approached the door holding a coat rack as a lance. The voices grew louder before abruptly cutting off. The handle of the door rattling shattered the tense silence and the door swung open. The doctor yelled and charged into the hall with full force lifting one man into the air before slamming him into the ground with his makeshift lance. The second man fired one shot and dropped the doctor that had the coat rack.
“Everyone freeze, this is the police!” A light, as bright as the sun itself, enveloped the entire opening making everyone flinch.
After a few moments of tension, the officer lowered his weapon and allowed the staff members to tend to the two wounded in the hall before leading everyone to the entrance of the hospital. “You’re all safe now, we are still doing a final sweep of the building, but we believe we got all of the perpetrators.” He halted, gesturing outside, as the doors slid open. Everyone walked out into the blinding light of the emergency response vehicles in the round-a-bout. Behind that there was a barricade line blocking dozens of people holding up their phones, news crews with their cameras and mics, and people just trying to get to their loved ones inside. The air was a cacophony of noise: sirens blending with a sea of voices murmuring, crying, praying, and cursing.
Mary almost tore Carl to the ground as she fell over with an agonizing scream, her free arm held out toward the rubble that used to be the west wing of the hospital. He knelt down and held her as she pulled in and sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, causing the embers buried in his left shoulder to burst alight from the wind of her breath. He scanned the rubble to see the remains of giant, colorful letters. He grasped tighter around Mary as tears started to stream down his face, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. The rest of the world melted around them by the fire that burned within him as they slumped, helpless on the asphalt.
Playing With Fire
Standing with my pants around my ankles my two friends are near, I gasp for breath. With one on the ground holding his sides, the other standing with a bemused look on his face I pull up my pants as they burst into flames. I dive onto the gravel driveway and begin to roll around.
"ROLL AND DROP, STOP!" I couldn't see who yelled but judging by the laughter and gasps for air surrounding the words it was Carl, still holding his sides. I floated back to my feet as the flames grew closer to my face from my right pantleg. I tried to beat the flames back only to have them regrow some of the hair on my hands.
I stopped all movement as I watched the coffee can call back the flames it spread on the ground and bounce back into Gregs hand. The look of suprise was stripped by his face by the explosion of flame that was sucked back into the can.
Carl was no longer laughing as he pulled a stick out of the concotion that held the flame flickering every so gently on the tip. "Out went it, more some get me let." Words that didn't register as the three of us stood around playing with homemade napalm one drab, unsupervised Saturday afternoon.