So hello all you non-existent readers. I am giving you an update today instead of tomorrow because I couldn't wait. I hope you all enjoy reading this. If you do, leave a comment. If you don't, leave a comment, just don't flame .Thanks!
Patrick drove the bus every day at 9:30, 12:00 and 2:30 around Metrocity. He drove down 84th street and up Carlton Avenue, right past Happy Times preschool. He was the preschool bus. Parents sent huge loads of buspools, with one adult for five children. They handed him lunches at his various stops and he gave them to the teacher free of charge. They all knew and trusted Patrick, and Patrick was okay with that. This was why on the day that would change his life, Patrick said yes.
On the day in question, the teacher called Patrick. Her bus license had expired and she wasn't able to get it renewed. Could he take and hour off and drive the preschoolers to the library? So it happened that Patrick became the official preschool bus driver as well. Whether it was a trip to the fire station or an afternoon in the park Patrick could be counted on to drive the cutesy, smiling flower adorned Happy Times Bus. The kids were polite and it looked great on his resume.He was happy, they were happy.Where it started to go wrong was the unit on song, and Patrick saying yes. Again.
It wasn't that he wasn't expecting a silly, repetitive song. They were preschoolers. He just wasn't expecting it to be so true and so, so aggravating. The wheels on the bus did go round and round. The doors opened and shut and even he himself was frighteningly predictable. He always greeted them the same way and they noticed. The coins on the bus goes jingle jingle jangle. The kids on the bus go bump bump bump, over and over and over.
But Patrick never quit. He never stopped driving, and he never stopped smiling. Even though sometimes it seemed a little thin, and caused some of the younger children to cry.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Twinkle Twinkle
Hi! just in case anyone is actually reading this, sorry about the irregular update. I went camping. From now on I will try to update every Sunday. Now, without further ado, twinkle twinkle little star.
Twinkle was the next big thing. She could sing, dance, act and smile like the happiest girl in the world, even when she wasn't. She had two Oscar nominations for her role in "Twinklepuff, Saviour of the Galaxy" and a starring role on Broadway. In short, she had everything she could dream of , and she didn't know how she felt about it.
She knew she should feel happy, but she never saw her father. He had left when the money had started rolling in. He was in Vegas right now, with Rochelle and sometimes sent her letters that stank of expensive cologne. Her mother was her agent, always pushing for more money, more fame, more lines. Nothing was enough for her or her daughter. Twinkle knew that she only had her best interests at heart but was it wrong to want more than "Not right now dear, Mommy's on the phone."
She returned to her trailer that night alone. It was after midnight and her face was caked in stage makeup. Her cheeks ached from smiling and her feet ached from dancing but it was at least another hour before bed. She had a photo shoot the next day at 9:00, an interview with Star magazine and of course her next show. She groaned as she entered the trailer. Shutting the door behind her, she sat her small, tired body down in front of the vanity in the dark room. Her face seemed ghostly in the mirror and she stopped fumbling for wipes to look at it.
"Is that all that I am? A ghost, living someone else's life?"
Her eyes filled with tears, leaving the worlds saddest raccoon. She drew breath and looked at herself again. She asked herself one more question, as she sat wallowing in pity. One question that would haunt her until she died, 8 years later, in a drunk driving case. "Who am I?"
Twinkle was the next big thing. She could sing, dance, act and smile like the happiest girl in the world, even when she wasn't. She had two Oscar nominations for her role in "Twinklepuff, Saviour of the Galaxy" and a starring role on Broadway. In short, she had everything she could dream of , and she didn't know how she felt about it.
She knew she should feel happy, but she never saw her father. He had left when the money had started rolling in. He was in Vegas right now, with Rochelle and sometimes sent her letters that stank of expensive cologne. Her mother was her agent, always pushing for more money, more fame, more lines. Nothing was enough for her or her daughter. Twinkle knew that she only had her best interests at heart but was it wrong to want more than "Not right now dear, Mommy's on the phone."
She returned to her trailer that night alone. It was after midnight and her face was caked in stage makeup. Her cheeks ached from smiling and her feet ached from dancing but it was at least another hour before bed. She had a photo shoot the next day at 9:00, an interview with Star magazine and of course her next show. She groaned as she entered the trailer. Shutting the door behind her, she sat her small, tired body down in front of the vanity in the dark room. Her face seemed ghostly in the mirror and she stopped fumbling for wipes to look at it.
"Is that all that I am? A ghost, living someone else's life?"
Her eyes filled with tears, leaving the worlds saddest raccoon. She drew breath and looked at herself again. She asked herself one more question, as she sat wallowing in pity. One question that would haunt her until she died, 8 years later, in a drunk driving case. "Who am I?"
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Spider
The spider wanted to spin a new web. While his webs were practical, he also liked to make them pretty. His excuse for his friends was that they caught more flies. The truth was that he thought of himself as an artist and like every artist he needed inspiration. He looked towards the clouds in search of it. In the sky, he didn't see clouds though. Because he was a spider, he saw the roof and a way to reach it.
He climbed slowly up the waterspout with his head in the clouds. He was so distracted figuring out how to represent colours through web that he missed the slow pattering beginnings of rain and only noticed when it began to come down full force.The spider looked up in time to see a enormous wave of water come crashing down, directly at his head. He shut his mouth just as the water came rushing down and everything went black.
Three hours later the spider woke up in a coughing fit. He caught his breath and saw that the pipe was dry and that he was unhurt. Looking carefully for clouds and finding none he approached the gutter slowly. He began to climb as quickly as he could, not looking up but going as fast as possible. Finally he reached the top and gazed down at the farm below.
He had expected to be struck with awe and breathtaking wonder. He had expected that somehow by achieving what so few had done something within him would change. He had expected, at the very least inspiration for his greatest project yet. The only great discovery that day? The spider was deathly afraid of heights.
He climbed slowly up the waterspout with his head in the clouds. He was so distracted figuring out how to represent colours through web that he missed the slow pattering beginnings of rain and only noticed when it began to come down full force.The spider looked up in time to see a enormous wave of water come crashing down, directly at his head. He shut his mouth just as the water came rushing down and everything went black.
Three hours later the spider woke up in a coughing fit. He caught his breath and saw that the pipe was dry and that he was unhurt. Looking carefully for clouds and finding none he approached the gutter slowly. He began to climb as quickly as he could, not looking up but going as fast as possible. Finally he reached the top and gazed down at the farm below.
He had expected to be struck with awe and breathtaking wonder. He had expected that somehow by achieving what so few had done something within him would change. He had expected, at the very least inspiration for his greatest project yet. The only great discovery that day? The spider was deathly afraid of heights.
Why are you here?
Remember when you were a kid sitting on mom's lap, or at Grandma's kitchen table as they told you stories? Or maybe dad, singing all your favorite songs with all the wrong words and crazy actions. All of us know at least a few good stories, songs or nursery rhymes. my question for you is, what if you read it wrong?
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