#72 Inspired by Music

Each portion of this story was inspired by the music I was listening to via shuffle. 

Song: Flowers on the Wall (Statler Brothers)

Tony strolled into the local florist, obviously not in a clear state of mind. He had just come off an all night bender and the bright colors attracted him as he made his way toward civilization from the less gentrified area of town. The woman behind the counter could smell him a mile away, and kept a watchful eye as he looked at her inventory.

“How much?”, he said, pointing toward an arrangement of flowers.

Song: Learn to Fly (Foo Fighters)

The proprietor eyed the wilting flowers she was about to toss out, as she cleaned the shop shortly after opening.

“They’re free for you if you’d like to take them home”, she said, passing the roses to Tony. His startled look accompanied a tentative “uh… thanks”, as he turned and walked toward the door.

“Thank God he’s gone”, the shop keeper said as she watched Tony stagger down the street, roses in hand.

Wilting Rose © by =-.0=

Tony, however, wasn’t quite ready to go home. He knew that his girlfriend would have, no doubt, left a few dozen messages for him with his roommate, especially after he stopped responding to her texts the night before. It wasn’t his fault though – a broken phone smashed after falling off a bar stool isn’t the best texting machine.

Tony, clutching broken phone in one hand, and roses in the other, pushed his way into the AT&T store near the florist. The salesperson approached, apprehensive as the florist had been.

Song: Another Postcard (Chimps) (Barenaked Ladies)

“Can I help you?”, he asked Tony.

“Uh… broke my phone last night”, Tony said as he thrust the remains of his cheap phone into the man’s hands.

“I can see that!”, the salesman said as he surveyed the damage.

“Can you fix it?”, Tony slurred. He’d started to come out of the altered state of consciousness he was currently a resident of, and the hangover had started setting in.

The salesman looked at the phone, broken plastic and missing battery, and informed Tony that he couldn’t.

“Then gimme a new one”, Tony said. The salesman started the process of replacing the phone, and was grateful when he saw that Tony was due an upgrade anyway. He seriously doubted Tony had the money to spend today on a new phone, but felt confident Tony could at least sign his name.

Song: Pickin’ Up The Pieces (Fitz & The Tantrums)

The salesman brought Tony over to the ‘free’ phones section of the store and showed him his three options. Tony picked the one he could see clearest, reasoning that future benders would be easier if his phone was more visible to him. Drunk logic worked like that.

“Just a moment, Mr. Hendricks”, the salesman said to Tony as he went through the usual phone voodoo needed to transfer the essence of one phone to another. When he was done, Tony collected his new phone and roses and wandered out.

“Pills”, Tony thought as his headache intensified. One last stop before he wandered toward the drugstore.

Aspirin: Candy for Programmers © by brx0

Song: Shattered (Turn the Car Around) (O.A.R.)

Tony made his way into the store, one of those newer mega drugstores that keeps the drugs, ironically, hard to find. He located a small bottle of aspirin that he was reasonably sure he had enough money to pay for and wandered toward the front. A few steps before the cashier he grabbed a bottle of some beverage from a nearby freezer and placed both items on the counter.

“$3.45”, the woman announced.

Tony dug into his pocket, finding that his phone was much larger than it had previously been, and locating two quarters and three crumpled up bills.

“Here’s your change”, the woman cheerily announced as Tony ripped into the drink and the aspirin, placing the nickel in his pocket. The beverage tasted cherry-like, although Tony didn’t bother to look at what brand or concoction it was. All he knew was that he needed to get the pills down and that he was thirsty as hell.

He arrived at his apartment around 9 A.M., each step on the three flights of stairs felt like a knock to the head. He reached his door, put the key in the lock, and turned it, only to find the door unlocked.

Song: Burn That Bridge (Jimmy Buffett)

She saw him before he’d fully entered the apartment.

“Damnit Tony, what the…”, she stopped her sentence midway as she spied the roses.

Tony, not being a particularly dumb man despite his condition, recognized he might have some sort of opportunity here, given his eye for pretty colors and the bounty it had scored him.

“Sorry babe”, he said as he offered up the roses, “I messed up”. Something inside him told him to shut up at this point and let the flowers do the talking.

Angie looked shocked. Tony had never bought her roses before. For him to do it this morning, in his obviously unkept state, was amazing.

“Let’s get you some rest”, she said, as she guided him toward the bedroom.

[SSDay]

#71 Don’t I Know You?

Mitch walked into the office. He was 15 minutes early for the interview, so he sat by the reception area after checking in. The receptionist smiled at him, however he couldn’t help but notice her prolonged gaze, almost as if she hesitated before telling him that Mr. Smith would let her know when he could head back.

Mitch was 20 years old, and a college graduate. He’d studied hard, and his internship at a small branch of the larger company had earned him the interview. He was nervous, but well prepared for almost anything. It turned out that no amount of preparation could have helped him in the awkwardness that was about to occur.

Mr. Smith called for Mitch about 20 minutes later. Mitch walked down the hall and was beckoned into Smith’s office by his loud booming voice. Mitch could be quite loud too, however that was with friends. Today he was somewhat reserved, sitting in a new suit, mentally ready for the barrage of questions.

Smith and Mitch looked at each other for a moment after shaking hands, as Smith got a pen and pad ready to take notes.

“Uh”, Smith began, slightly taken aback, “Where are you from, Mitch?”

“From outside Newberry”, Mitch replied.

“Newberry…. “, Smith said, rolling it around in his mind and mouth. He almost visibly shook his head as if shaking off the feeling of discontinuity. He asked Mitch several pre-written questions from a standard interview form, but stopped about 10 minutes in.

“Mitch, I gotta ask this – have we met before?”, Smith asked.

“I don’t think so, I’ve never been to the city before, and I don’t think you ever visited the branch I interned at”, Mitch replied.

“But still, you seem really familiar”

“Yes, you seem a bit familiar too”, Mitch said as he glanced around the room. Noticing pictures of presumably Smith’s family, Mitch was shocked to see people who looked familiar as well. Smith noticed Mitch’s eyes glancing and took down the photo with the most number of people in it.

“Is that your mother?”, Mitch asked as he pointed to one of several older women in the photo, “And an aunt – there – from your father’s side?”.

Astonished, Smith replied affirmatively. Mitch looked at each member of the family and guessed their relationship to Smith, guessing correctly every time. Mitch then pulled out his wallet and showed Smith several photos. Somehow, Smith was equally able to name them.

“Mitch, you just graduated college, correct?”, Smith asked after the photos had been stowed and shelved.

“Yes, in December 2011”, Mitch replied.

“I graduated in December 2001”, Smith said.

The began to compare life histories, and over the course of the hour, an hour that was supposed to be filled with questions about a prospective job, benefits, challenges, and the like, they realized that their histories ran roughly parallel, 10 years removed. They even bore a resemblance to each other physically, although they didn’t notice this until near the end of their meeting.

The two men parted company but promised to consult with family and friends, looking to see if somehow they were connected. Obviously Smith liked Mitch, and recommended he be hired. Some months later, Mitch received a call from his great-grandmother, who was ill and normally not able to talk. She was feeling good that day, and wanted to speak to her only great-grandson. Mitch asked her about Smith, telling the matriarch the details of their meeting.

“Well Mitch”, the old woman began, “When you reach my age, you realize something. We’re all fundamentally living the same lives, just years apart. Some times it’s more noticeable than others, such as with you and your friend there. And you, my child, have hopefully saved yourself a lot of grief by learning this life lesson early.

“What do you mean Grandma?”, Mitch asked.

“It’s easier to spend life recognizing the common threads that bind us together, and not focus on the loose ends that distinguish us.”

ONE HUMAN FAMILY © by inazakira

[SSDay]

#70 Routine

Jenny walked out of the elevator toward her office, with Winston beside her. He seemed to lag a bit behind, and didn’t respond to her continuing conversation about tasks at hand.

“You ok?”, she asked as she peered behind herself.

“Yea… just noticed that they put down a new rug in front of the elevator”, Winston said as he studied it carefully.

“I hadn’t noticed”, Jenny replied.

“You know what’s weird?”, Winston said as he caught up to her a few steps away,”I didn’t see it – I didn’t even feel it beneath my feet…. I realized I was slightly higher off the ground than I usually was”.

“What do you mean?”, Jenny said in confusion.

“Well, it’s hard to explain – almost like my eyes glanced onto the hallway in a new way – they were seeing everything from a slightly different perspective – one a small bit higher than ever before”, Winston said as they neared their desks.

“I guess I wouldn’t notice given that my height changes daily depending on my shoes!”, Jenny said with a laugh. Her proclivity toward extremely high heels, and days off from them after ‘over doing it’ were well-known throughout the office. Winston’s comment, though, made her wonder about how many things she took for granted in her daily routine. And if things were changing around her, was that a bad thing?

Her natural reaction was “Yes!” – she’d read enough stories about killers lurking in hidden corners, victims seeing things awry but not being able to put their finger on the exact source of the incongruity until the knife was already held at their throat. If the world was changing subtly around her, she should take that as a sign that she needed to be more diligent in her observation. For the next few weeks she watched her surroundings like a hawk (metaphorically speaking – she wasn’t looking for prey). She began to notice little changes day by day. The man handing out the free newspaper at the bus stop normally used the exact same motion to pull one paper from the crook of his arm, except when handing the paper to an attractive lady – then the motion slowed slightly, the man glancing away from the woman toward the papers to be sure he pulled only one. Perhaps a nervous affliction – one that men seldom had around her plain appearance. In addition to the newspapers, she inadvertently noticed work schedules of those serving her. The attendants at the gas station worked 4 days a week, and 1 weekend day, most working Monday-Thursday, and then Sunday. Jenny marveled at the new information she had picked up.

Until she realized most of it was utterly useless. It wasn’t as though her brain had a finite limit of things it could remember – quite the opposite, however Jenny had the sense that she had learned so much and had not once foiled a would-be criminal, or helped someone at the office by noticing a minute detail, or even been able to work her facts into idle conversation with her friends. All the work she’d done was useless. The work had tuned her brain, tuning that would last longer than the months she’d practiced observing, but had no noticeable benefit. Jenny moved on with life, abandoning her little project. She still noticed the odd mannerisms of the newspaper man and the gas station attendant’s schedules, but dared not work them into conversation for fear of being labelled that “weird girl”.

Many years went by, with the details becoming more or less explicitly forgotten. In fact, Jenny wondered if she even noticed them anymore. Until one day when she was walking home and had the urge to take a different route. She’d lived in the same neighborhood for years, and it had sadly declined over time. Still she never felt too unsafe, and it was broad daylight, so why bother changing her habits. Reluctantly though, the strong urge persisted and resulted in her walking into a coffee shop for a few moments to contemplate her odd feeling.

starbucks cup © by Cherrysweetdeal

Just as her coffee was served, she saw the police cars pull up in front of her house down the street. She could see the police moving up her driveway, and she anxiously sat in the shop until she saw a man running down the drive, tackled by the police as he tried to turn to run toward the shop. She took her coffee and began to cautiously walk down the street, toward the scene. The police met her a few houses down.

“Ms. Turner?”, the officer asked.

“Yes”, Jenny said, wondering how he knew her.

“Ma’am, it’s a good thing you waited a few minutes to come home today. The man we caught has hidden in the house behind yours – we’ve watched him for weeks. Today was the day we decided to move in, and we were going to do so before you came home. However we were delayed, and couldn’t move in until a few moments ago”.

As the officer talked, Jenny realized that she’d noticed vehicles parked along the streets over the past few months that were missing today, something she later inquired about and was told that they were indeed the watchful eyes of the detectives involved.

That night, the irony hit her: She changed her routine to notice facts she hadn’t before. Over the years, that itself had become routine, to the point she wasn’t even consciously aware of it. And while today may have been exceptional in the level of excitement this ability may have prevented her, she wondered how many other things in the past years she’d avoided without ever knowing. Did she avoid a speeding ticket by noticing the signs a cop was watching? Had she clued into the system used to mark down prices at her favorite stores, securing her the best deals? Or had today been the only time her “weird” ability had helped?

[SSDay]

#69 Elevator Etiquette

Ed stepped onto the elevator as usual, with a long line of people behind him. After the long day of going up countless stairs, he was happy taking the extra few minutes to ride the elevator up and down. Being able-bodied, however, made him vow to be as courteous as possible. He immediately pressed the “door open” button upon entering, held it until all were on board, pressed the “door close” button, and then upon reaching the destination, he reversed the process, always allowing others out before him. Finally he sent the elevator back down to ‘help out’ the next weary soul on their way home.

On rare days when another beat him out as ‘first in line’, he chuckled as the door slammed into those boarding the elevator, the person near the panel not bothering to keep his or her finger depressed onto the button until all were there. In Ed’s mind, the daily ritual of the elevator etiquette had become something of a lofty place in society – if he didn’t set the example, the entire world suffered.

Then came the day he realized that it all didn’t matter. Sure he never expected to receive a medal or anything for his elevator chivalry, but one moment, standing on the elevator, looking at some familiar and not so familiar faces, he realized that he was the only one who noticed that he went to great lengths to be kind to others. And with the exception of the rare older person who thanked him for holding the door, no one else much cared.

For a few weeks he contemplated ‘retiring’ from his elevator operator role. While habit kept him doing the same old things, he knew that habits could be changed just as easily back to the default. He kept asking himself why he bothered with these gestures, until he finally had the answer.

He did it because it made him feel better, made him feel as though he were contributing in some small way to the world. And in the end, if he was the only person who benefitted explicitly from it, it was still worth it. So he kept up, not caring if any day in the future it would make a difference in a big way to his fellow passengers. Over the years it had already made a big difference to him.

Elevators © by Charlie Day DaytimeStudios

[SSDay]

#68 Distractible Boy

Warren Zevon was Excitable Boy
It made him quite the star,
How I wish I was Distractible Boy
It might make me happier by far!

You see I agonize, debate, and think
much too much on end
If I could switch off my mind’s timer
Some sanity it might lend.

But I do not have such ability
To pull myself offline
So I shall simply fill my day
Trusting in the divine.

[SSDay]

#67 Beer

The first time it tastes of bad bread
The third time it tastes stale instead
The fifth time it tastes anew
Subsequent times is when it gets you!

[SSDay]

#66 Similarities

A listing of things that share common traits:

  1. Space and doughnuts: Both have holes that are devoid of the goodness around them.
  2. An itch and the devil: Scratch out often describes the desired goal of their opponents.
  3. Quixote & Marlon Brando: Well known Dons
  4. Cords and Caffeine: They both give power
  5. Fingers and Con artists: Both are great manipulators
  6. Commuters and Gravy: Both have trains.
  7. Coffee and Opera: Both are acquired tastes.
  8. Cookies and Cash: Two things seldom refused

[SSDay]

#65 Dragging Danielle

Danielle’s mother pulled her along, across the side street toward the shops. Today they’d be shopping and spending time together, Danielle being only 3, the world was still a big place with much to explore, and not enough time to do it, straining against her mother’s pull.

3 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother pulls her toward the school building. The child is reluctant to give up her own ability to explore for the guided exploration of her teachers. Her new friends, whom she will meet shortly, will ease the transition.

6 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother pushes her toward activities she’d rather skip. Spending time with her grandparents, going to Sunday school, and practicing her piano skills pale in comparison to the excitement of the conversation of friends, the shopping at the mall instead of the stores on main street, and exploring what being a teenager will be.

6 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother taps her daughter on the shoulder. It’s graduation day, and while college awaits, today marks the end of the guided exploration started 12 years earlier. Danielle is on her own, for a while, to learn about the world. Her mother hopes she can guide herself.

6 years goes by and Danielle’s mother beckons her daughter to hurry up, the guests are seated, they await the bride’s entrance.

Many more years go by, and Danielle’s mother, father, and husband pass on. She sits in a coffee shop that stands where her mother once took her shopping long ago. It is then she realizes that she never finished exploring the world. She gets up and drags herself out into it.

Main Street Lights © by JSmith Photo

[SSDay]

#64 When I’m Sixty Four

Cliche to say
True To me
When I’m Sixty Four
Meaningless this all will be.

Research reports
and I believe
Happiness is manufactured
We all hold our key.

Today evolves
Tomorrow, we’ll see
I can’t miss the life
Given generously to me.

Happiness © by ernohannink

[SSDay]

#63 Limerick

There once was a writer named Jon
Whose limericks caused one to yawn
The rejection stung like heat
Causing him to retreat
And now his daft rhymes are all but gone!

[SSDay]