A Creative Writing portfolio (back from a brief hiatus in which I almost drowned in Heidegger)

Monday, February 28, 2011

The Kite


Today is the day he’d always hoped would come. He hadn’t been able to put a name to it for all of his seven years, but he just knew. This is where he would begin. The park is beautiful the day the boy and his dad carry the hand-me-down kite to the open field. The sun shines mercilessly, but in a comforting sort of way. His dad walks beside him slowly and confidently while the boy bounds all around the park.
He was about to begin. 
He just knew it.

Across the park, a lone man watches the dad and son with sadness. The boy looks so happy, and the dad so proud. The man looks down at the kite in his own hands and sighs, his body collapsing with the sheer effort of living. A shiver runs down his spine despite the comforting warmth of the day. He glares at the shade encompassing him.
This was the day to end all his days, all his pain.
He was about to succumb.
He just knew it.

Grasping his kite, the dad smiles down at his son. His smile wavers ever so slightly. He knows that he’s waited too long to give his son this chance, but it was a necessary wait. The kid needed to grow up a bit, know that being a child wasn’t given liberally. It needed to be earned.
Never mind his reasons. Today was the day. And it couldn’t be more important.
He solidifies his smile. It matches the sun.

Why does he hesitate? The man is confused at his own gasps for air. How futile they are.
Tie the knot just like daddy taught. Tie the knot good and tight. This can’t fail. This can’t be added to the list his daddy has.

The dad preps the string, his boy for the event. Tie the string to the kite good and tight (can’t let it get away); give the roll to the kid. He goes through his checklist methodically, just like his father taught him. He often tries to forget this fact. But it’s still there, and so it will always be.
“Are you ready m’boy?” he whispers to his jumpy son.
The boy nods and grins, settling down into his practiced stance. It was finally happening. Him, and his dad, and the kite. And only at age seven! How could life get any better? He took five deep breaths like his dad told him to. Five deep luscious breaths. The warm spring day filled his lungs and created a new body for him to occupy.
He’s no longer the same.
He is ready.

The man looks out from the trees one last time. He scowls at the dad and his boy with their kite. Damn them all to hell, he thinks miserably.
Slowly he breathes in and out, enjoying the feeling. He might as well leave being happy.
A bang, rather than a whimper.
           He knows he’s only a whimper. He knows this and checks his knots more carefully still. Can’t let himself down now. Limb by limb, he finds his way into the selected tree. The tree that housed his childhood when nothing else went right. His escape tree. How fitting.
From here, he can see his house as well as the rest of the world. His world. Not his alone, he has to remind himself. That was always an argument. Now he’s getting mad. Five more breaths. Five more. He needs to be calm.
Tracing the old lines of the tree, he knows that it’s time.
He has never changed, always been the same person.
He is ready.

The dad looks at his boy reassuringly, face partially obscured by the kite. He breathes in sharply and the delicate fabric of the kite trembles. He calls out to his son, refocusing them both. The boy concentrates all his thoughts on the kite string in his hand.
“Ready Dad!” he shouts out over the faint breeze. His heart is beating furiously with anticipation.
“On the count of three...” the dad responds.
“ONE!” Get ready.
“TWO!” Get set.
“THREE!” Blast off.

The man checks his own kite string, repositions the kite, places the string about his neck, checks on the father and son in the field. All systems go.
He thanks the tree for the memories, the kite for its use, and his saviour for the life he has lived, reassuring himself that forty-seven is a perfect age to die. He’s already left a note at his mother’s place. These announcements are just superfluous. He looks to the ground.
One. Get ready.
Two. Get set.
Three. Goodbye.

The dad releases the kite and the boy releases all his fantasies about racecars and rocket ships and submarines and hot air balloons and jet planes and kites. He screams as he runs, voice drowned out by the wind racing through his hair and jacket. The kite lifts off and soars above his head. He thinks about stopping only briefly – the kite is flying so high and he’s so free. He can’t stop now! He continues his run towards the trees where the man had been. The dad smiles at the boy’s retreating form. The lesson has been taught. He sits down on the lawn chair he’s brought and opens a soda, melting into the sunshine and releasing himself to memory.

The man feels himself fall. He feels the string slice into his trachea. The sun pushes away the shade, lands on his kite. He smiles.
He feels nothing more.

The boy stops just before the trees to admire his kite. The kite trembles on the ever-increasing breeze while its thin fabric glistens in the sun. The colours shine down onto his smile, tinting his cheeks with green and gold. He’s overcome with just how perfect this feeling is. He’s playing tug-o-war against the wind, his hands on the ball of string, the wind’s grasp on the kite. The boy glances back at his dad and is surprised: his dad has never sat down and succumbed to memory before. Then again, this is the first outing of the kite. He quickly waves at his dad (who waves back absentmindedly, preoccupied with thoughts of fishing trips) and redirects his attentions to the kite.


The forest is quiet. A man hangs motionless from a tree, his blood still warm.
A smile has been frozen onto his face.

The boy has lost himself into thoughts of greatness. He concentrates the battle he is fighting with the wind for the kite. He softly whistles “Let’s Go Fly a Kite”, a tune he picked up from somewhere he doesn’t know.
He dreams of what he’s going to do with his life.
He imagines palaces and money, horses and cars, rooms of his many houses devoted to kites. He sees himself flying in the sky like a kite. A kite assisted by machine. A human tethered to earth, never entirely free.
The dad is not aware of these thoughts. He’s remembering his own dreams. He sees the kite float lazily in the sky, a newspaper heading about a war.

The man sees nothing of this. His memories have been buried. His last smile is directed towards paradise, leaving on a run away kite- the ball of string has been let go.

Suddenly, the wind attacks with force, catching the boy off guard. The kite wavers and drops uncontrollably. The boy's cry is muffled by the sound of the wind in his coat. In his surprise, he dropped the ball of string.
Before running into the forest, he glances at his dad. Luckily, the accident was not seen. The boy sighs with relief and darts into the forest, following the roll of string. He feels like Hansel and Gretel, trying to find their trail of breadcrumbs to go home. Where is he going? Where is his kite?

Turning left, he sees a thread hanging from a branch. He lets out another sigh of relief, thankful that no witches with houses of candy appeared in between the trees. As he nears the thread, something seems wrong, but he can't tell. It seems like an older material, one that he can't name, one from the era before his kite. The tree it landed in is old and gnarled, evidence of a tree fort still visible. The boy ignores it and hurries to the tree. A tip of a kite peeks out through the leaves, but the boy does not see this.

The boy stops in confusion. This isn't his kite. This kite is different. This kite has stopped a man from falling.
“Excuse me... Sir?” the boy whispers.
He's answered by a smile. One that hasn't faded. Rigor is setting in.
The man's neck is mangled, the boy can see that. His feet dangle and his hands move according to the breeze. The eyes are open, the mouth smiles... The man looks happy. Why is he hanging from a tree? Why is his kite supporting him? Did the kite do it?
All the boy can do is look. He doesn't see what's wrong. He sees a man and a kite in a tree. He stares at Death and doesn't see.

Looking away from his reveries, the dad tries to find his boy. The field is empty. His heart is throbbing. He scrambles out of his chair, spilling his soda in the process.
Where to start looking? He scans the top of the trees for the hint of gold to tell him where to find his son. There it is, to his left. He sprints into the woods, slowing enough to avoid hitting trees. He sees a thread, hopes to find a boy.
The boy hears his father's footsteps thudding on the forest floor and calls out. He goes back to staring at the man, imprinting the image in his mind.
The man's kite is purple with red tigers.

The father sees the green and gold kite hanging from a tree, unharmed, the string still wound nicely into a ball. He carefully listens for a small voice. He hears it... More to his right. Scooping up the kite, he walks carefuly towards the sound of the boy's voice.

There he is. Crisis averted. He's standing in front of a tree, with some other poor boy's kite. It is reminicent to the designs he used to see. He smiles and goes to embrace his son. Just before reaching the boy, he sees why the boy has been so still, so attentive. There's a man in the tree. A man who has lost his way.
He drops the kite.

“Dad... Why is the man hanging in the tree? Why is he smiling like that? Can I have tigers on my kite too?” the boy asks.
His dad puts his arms around the boy, picks up the kite and leads them all away.
“I'll tell you later pal. You don't need to know just yet.”
The boy accepts this answer and takes the kite from his dad.
“I'll see you back in the field daddy!” the boy calls as he races off.
His dad nods slowly.

The rays of sun seem kinder and the day brighter back out in the field. The dad gazes back into the forest and the secrets it holds before jogging to help out his son.
Carpe Diem. Seize the day.

17 February

Today is a rainy day
and I'm tired. Tired of it all.
Tired of the mud, the yells...
The petty rules determining this life.
My eyes droop, blocking words
from entering my skull.
     (Or exiting.)

The weak light from outdoors
makes the floors shine
    (Or is that the fluorescents?
    It's hard to tell).
I look at the trophy case: 20 trophies
with emblazoned forgotten names look back,
vigilantly protecting a cause I do not know.

The pictures of the past glare at me to be in class.

I can't.
I just... Can't.

I'll sit here
on the border of the weak and fluorescent light,
curl into myself like a turtle,
become a forgotten about name
behind a wall of glass.

stops


How can there ever be a shortage?!
     (Thinks one
     Thinks many)
It'll never go away
For as long as I live.
     (Think the young
     Think the old)
It's wondrous and large...
     It's mine. 
         (Think them all)

Flake by flake, the snow blackens
Tree by tree, the leaves weaken
Country by country, the initiative

     stops

Friday, February 25, 2011

A Glimpse

A glimpse back to the past
in the form of a letter.
A paid fare back into time
     Keep ticking forward
Oh how times have changed.
How trivial it all seems.
     How important
     For its time.
There's something about moving away
that doesn't need boxes.
It needs a good-bye
     It's final.
     No matter what, the old times
     have died.
Yellowing envelopes with forgotten destinations
hold ramblings of yesteryear
     A bit of me
     I had let go.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Straw is Itchy


Using as little words as possible, we were to put the reader into a specific moment from our childhoods. This one still bothers my sister. 

Under my hands, the straw itches. It itches under my pants too, making crawling difficult. A strand moves up my too small jeans. I want to itch it but then I'll lose my cousins and the people behind me'll catch up and the halloween pop ups will eat me. Round the corner, more lights. Glow sticks. Illuminating a Dracula surrounded by pumpkins. I crash into the straw wall, sending more down to make me itchy. Then he speaks. He speaks in his automated Dracula voice. He laughs at me. I don't laugh back. I can't breathe will all this straw. The tunnel is so small and dark. Minus the glow sticks. A green one bobs in front or me. SARAH! I start crawling again and the straw keeps on itching. I'm so cramped. Why isn't this ending?! My windbreaker scrapes against the straw wall as I swerve around. What's that noise? Dracula? There's no one around. I take a deep straw filled breath and turn the next corner in pursuit of a fluorescent green blob. 

Friday, February 18, 2011

Was She Either?

The moon is full tonight. He could tell because of its reflection in the small perfect lakes of her eyes. He could also see it in the precise angle of her chin that she held aloft, not letting it reattach to her neck like she often does while sleeping. The serenity of the night around her was portrayed through her fingertips, softly playing with the grass under her relaxed frame. She gazed at the pre-dawn sky and he could see all the thoughts race around her head like the million shooing stars he has never seen. The way her toes tickle each other, seemingly separate bodies from their united being of her...
The moon was full and the night was ending just as soon as it started. The million stars and thoughts became less than brilliant and he saw the frown spread across her luscious face, charcoal lines in the sand. He wanted to touche her, keep her in this safe place of dreams and calm.
But he couldn't. He wasn't quite real.
But was she either?

Wait Another Day

At the corner of forever and today I wait.
Wait for the eternal stoplight to change.
The wait is enjoyable
     The hesitation comes of deciding which way to turn.

I'll just wait for the next one.

It switches back and I'm still standing
     Anxiety fades, turns a different corner.

Looking left towards forever, it stretches into
my hopes and dreams.

     An ice cream vendor is offering vanilla swirls.

To my right, today looks frightening.
     The ice cream is offered further down
     the street, closer to the next corner.

I close my eyes

     Inhale.

     Exhale.

Turn right.

Forever will wait another day.
     I've already been waiting.
     It can wait some more.