Saturday, February 16, 2008

Cupid Painted Blind

Michael toed the fresh snow with his shoe, revealing the frozen black slush left from a week old storm. He pulled his jacket collar up over his bare neck and tried to look at nothing in particular.

Trying desperately to keep the coral rose in his left hand from sight, he carried on, continuing his way down the street along the uneven, un-shoveled sidewalk. He left a dissipating trail of breath behind him as well as a long line of footprints in the snow. Every step brought him closer and closer to her house and further and further away from contentment.

Shifting his grip on the flower, he caught a thorn on his index finger, drawing blood. The blood crept down, past his fingernail, the moisture inviting the cold to bite his finger. Such a bite as to cause Michael to wonder whose idea it was to give spring flowers to lovers in the middle of winter. It made little sense to him, but custom dictated his gift.

Well, he thought, perhaps not so much custom as the inevitable smile that it would bring her.

As he rounded the corner, his thoughts turned from flowers to fear: her boyfriend’s car was still in her driveway.

“Shit,” he told himself and tried to find a hidden purchase behind a gnarled maple tree, naked and asleep for the winter. Peeking out from behind the trunk he could see the exhaust billowing from the tailpipe, the car was running. Was he leaving or just arriving? Even though his hands were stiff and hard to use in the cold, he checked the last text message he’d gotten from her. “Valentines Lunch? 1:30?”

“Absolutely,” he’d replied.

“Good answer,” she’d shot back.

He checked the time on his phone and discovered that he was ten minutes early.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t explain being there, he and Sarah had been friends for years. It was the flower that he’d find hard to explain. He imagined himself strolling up to Luke and saying, “Hey. How’s it going? You heading back to work?”

“Yeah,” he’d reply. “I just stopped in to see Sarah for lunch.”

“That’s too bad. I don’t know if you know this, but we’re dating behind your back and I'm taking her to lunch. See? Here’s the flower I’m bringing her for Valentines Day.” Michael then imagined himself withdrawing a book from his coat pocket, “And this is my present for her. It’s a book of poetry and it’s beautiful and full of all the romance she lacks living with a putz like you. I’ve even personalized it with a love letter on the copyright page.”

And then he’d haul off and punch me in the face, Michael thought.

He smirked to himself, wondering if he’d ever have the brash arrogance to do something so definitive in his relationship with Sarah. The sound of a car door slamming shut roused him from his daydream.

The rest of this story is available in the collection "Cupid Painted Blind" available on Amazon for the Kindle.


Monday, February 04, 2008

The Mighty Thor

I thought you guys might find this interesting. This is a pitch Elias and I wrote for Marvel's Thor. This would have been a cool mini-series. Maybe it still could be...

One year ago Odin slumbered. All was well in the kingdom of Asgard. Although the citizens of Asgard respect their lords rule, during the Odinsleep, Asgardians carry on more freely and with less fear of respite; for when God sleeps, so sleeps his Godly expectations. And for the sons of this God, the same rings true.

While one brother plots in the shadows, the other enjoys the tranquility and reminisces of days filled more with mischievous sibling rivalries and less with evil plots. And on some days, within the God of Evil still resides the God of Mischief. On this day at Odin’s stables mischief is afoot.

The stable door splinters into a million pieces as Loki, astride Odin’s eight legged stallion Sleipnir, rides into the Asgardian countryside in a blaze of mischievous glory. He lets out an exaggerated “YEEE HAW!” As the stallion begins to buck wildly. Suddenly a sonic boom echoes through the countryside. Loki, recognizing the sound, ducks just in time to avoid the wrath of Mjolnir. It shoots past like a bullet and plucks a horn off of his helmet. Loki cackles and continues into the wilderness, further goading Thor.

Thor realizes that if his father were to be missing his horse when he awakes from his week long slumber someone would have to pay, so Thor gives chase.

The Brothers race through the kingdom of Asgard almost playfully. Thor keeps pace with Sleipnir, but never gains. With Godspeed they fly through the Asgardian countryside, through the Temple of Mystics, through the Domain of Storm Giants, through the Norn Forest, over the River of Crystal.

For a moment Thor loses Loki, but finds Odin’s steed caged up neatly in front of a cottage in the Asgardian countryside, there seems to be a mystical lock on the cage. However strong Thor is, try as he might he can’t get the lock off of the cage. Thor shouts at the door for Loki to come out but there is no response.

He shatters the door open with his hammer to reveal...

None other than the Enchantress, dressed scantily and sprawled out on a bed like a tigress.

“Lo, Enchantress where is Loki, the bedeviler of my day?”

“Bound in the back room, my dear Thor.”

“How did thee apprehend him?”

“By seduction.”

“By my fathers beard, I’ll now take Sleipnir and away from thee. Might I have thine key to the lock?”

“There’s only one way to get it...”

Thor looks uneasy, but willing to submit.

“Lay with me, in my bed.” She says.

Thor pauses, but the sinless attitudes that go along with the playfulness of Odinsleep prevail, and we see them lock in for a kiss.

A year has passed. Sleipnir resides in his stables once again. Loki is foiled. Odin awakes. But the Enchantress, she disappears, until the time of the next great Odin sleep, which has arrived since the events a year past. But with her also comes with newborn babe. A child but whose? Loki’s or Thors? They both wonder...