Skip to main content

To Be Me

James Hemlock could not see the world through normal eyes. Everything to him was seen through the lens of a stage drama. When entering a grocery store, his head would tell him that he must enter through the doors stage right, find his vegetables with conviction and exit stage left. Any exchanges he had with the grocers or the checkers or the bagboys was instantly translated into a page of script in his head.

Bearing in mind that he would always appear much more eloquent in his head than in reality, a typical scene in a grocery store would look like this:

The curtain rises.

A grocery store.

Enter HEMLOCK, a successful stage actor and teacher, to buy his weekly allotment of food. He is dashing and walks with a disarming swagger. He’s blonde with a red beard and penetrating gray eyes.

After making his vegetable selections, he moves upstage to speak with the CHECK-OUT GIRL.

Hemlock: ‘Tis a wonderously beautiful day for shopping? ‘Tisn’t it?

Checker: ‘Tis Master Hemlock. ‘Tis.

Hemlock: ‘Tis indeed. And how have you been, Madame Grocer?

Checker: Better times have I seen, good sir, to be sure. If you could spare a farthing, life’s dull ache might be relieved for the price of booze to fill my gullet.

Hemlock: Indeed, poor girl…

Hemlock reaches into his wallet and hands the starving wino of a check-out girl a ten dollar bill.

Checker: Oh, but kind sir, your kindness is too much. I could not consent to a gift as much as this…

Hemlock. Never fear, poor girl. I’ve more where that came from. So, take it and I bid you good day. I shall return for more sweet-meats and greens as soon as my supplies have run dry.

Hemlock exits stage left.

Curtain closes.

This is just how he saw things. Sadly, he was neither rich nor a terribly talented actor. To be honest, he’d never even spoken to the check out girls, although there were times he wanted to. The only place he was comfortable was on stage and in his classroom.

Most of the time, the two were the same. James Hemlock was a high school drama teacher.

Those who can’t do, teach.

The rest if this short story can be read in the book God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut. It is available digitally and in print.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Way It Is

            The whistle signaling quitting time was always his favorite time.  It was the high water mark for the rest of the day, representing that first moment of freedom matched with the highest level of energy he’d have for the rest of the night.  He turned his dirty earth-moving machine off, ceasing the rumble in his seat and in the engine.  Quietly, he pulled the earplugs from his ears, and collected his gloves and cooler.  The cooler held remnants of his lunch which had consisted of two ham and cheese sandwiches, a dill pickle, a bag of chips, and an apple.             Each step back to his truck, parked four blocks away, ached down into his core.  Shifting his weight right, he could feel the burn on his ankle and knee.  Shifting his weight left provided the same effect on the other side.         ...

The Scoop

So, I've decided to save the below "About Me" in amber, trapped in time, as it were and sort of start over from scratch since the mission of the site is a little different now. I'm making a go of earning money for all of my writing. I'm working to convert my body of work here into something that will provide me some means of income that will justify how much time I spend writing in a day. I would really appreciate if you'd consider buying some of my stories and spreading the word. So, enjoy the slightly outdated bio about myself below, I'll start a new one up in its entirety soon. 03/2010 Me, circa February 2009. I'm posting short stories up on this blog. At least once a month I'll do so. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I used to write short stories quite often, but my prose petered out after I became a screenwriter. This is my way of relearning prose. If I didn't publish it here I probably wouldn't publish it anywhere. If I didn't p...

The Hope of Humanity

This is but a sample of this story.  The complete version is available in my print collection  Man Against the Future.   From there, you can order signed copies, or buy it for the Kindle or the Nook. The year was 2081 and so many of the social problems humans had faced over the last hundred years were still a pretty big problem. Most people were still poor, corporations still ran the government, and politicians were constantly caught with prostitutes of both sexes, living and dead. When politicians weren't blowing each other's personal lives completely out of proportion for political gain, they were starting wars with other countries. Sometimes, they would even start wars with people inside their own country, but those were usually ideological. Perhaps the biggest and worst change was that the polar ice caps had melted and much of the Mojave Desert was now prime beachfront property, and the air across the globe tasted like you were sucking on a tailpipe. As pressi...