Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Rogue's Poem

This is a poem I wrote for a character in a screenplay.

I'm no poet.

A rogue as I deserves not
beauty and perfection as she.
Virtue and titles and monies
mean nothing to those as we.
All I've wanted I've fought for,
all I've needed I've swindled,
all I've loved is you.
The love of one Julia is all I ask,
the love of one Julia is all I live for,
and to glance upon her beauty

Friday, January 09, 2009

The Shadow of Dream

She awoke at about five in the morning to the incoherent shouts of her husband and a firm fist in the face. “Jimmy?” she asked, panicked, stinging still from the blow he landed.

“But… Who… And…” Jimmy was shouting nonsense and flailing his arms about, his face contorted in anger. “It was just… Wha…?”

“Jimmy? Are you okay?” She asked again, shaking him hopes of rousing him from his deeply troubled sleep.

And as though it never happened, his confusing tirade turned to gentle snoring. Unfortunately for Shannon, though, she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her face was hot where the bottom of his fist made contact with her eye and the adrenaline rush of having been aroused from her slumber in that way made it impossible to continue resting. Leaving Jimmy to rest, she got out of bed and wrapped her terry robe around her slender frame and left the bedroom.

This story appears as part of the collection "The Cruel Kids: Four Short Stories".  You can get it for the Kindle or the Nook.

Monday, January 05, 2009

The Job

Here's a short film I was writing for a friend and his step-dad as some type of acting exercise but never finished. It would have been good. I found the beginning I wrote for it, but decided to rewrite it for the ol' short story blog.

I hope it doesn't suck too bad.

(Also, expect another short story proper in the next week or two...)

And lease bear with me on the format, blogger still just doesn't like any semblance of screenplay format.


SHADE drives through town, headed to a specific destination. He’s talking on his cellphone, presumably to his mother.

...it was just great, I still can’t believe it.
Yeah. That’s what I thought, too.
But when he just sort of hit
me with it, he said, this is
what he said, he says, “Son...”

He’s interrupted...

Yeah, totally. He called me “son.”
Can you believe that? Anyways, he says, he
says, uh, “Son, there is no one I would
rather have on the ground in Madrid.”
And then he grabs me, like, by the
shoulder, and he shakes my hand and
says, “In all my years of management,
I have never felt a boy your age was
ready for a position like this until you came along.”
Yeah. Then he started going on
about how unprecedented this
was and how happy he was with me.
Oh, totally.
I know. I mean, I’ve never even
been outside the state, so yeah,
Madrid is certainly going to be a change of pace.

Shade maneuvers his car around a turn and pulls into the parking lot of a mid-sized hotel.

No, I didn’t call him. I kinda
wanted to surprise him.
No. I’m at the hotel now.
I know. He’s going to be doing flips.
Sure. Okay. I love you, too, mom.
Yeah, I’ll call and tell you what he says.

Shade hangs up the phone and puts it in his pocket.

Proudly, he exits the car, a new man.


Shade crosses the distance between his car and the office.


A CLERK stands behind the front desk, watching TV. Apparently business is a little slow this time of day.

Shade comes in and asks:

Hey man, is my dad around?

I haven’t seen him around in, like... A half an hour?
Hold on, let me check it out for you.

The Clerk gets on the phone and turns away from Shade, who is beaming.

(into phone)
Hey, you guys see the manager
down in housekeeping at all?
Where at?
One-twelve? Okay, thanks.

He hangs up the phone and turns back to Shade.

I guess he’s re-training a maid or something.
They said he’s down in one-twelve.

Hey, thanks alot, man.

Shade leaves, heading for room 112.


Shade knocks on the door as a token gesture as he walks right in...

...to see his dad, BOYD, the manager, scrambling to get his pants on while the maid, naked, dives for the bathroom door, locking it behind her.

Shade, in an instant, goes from prideful joy to defeated shock...


Boyd gets his pants buckled and under control. He’s wearing slacks, a knit t-shirt and a suit jacket.

Now that he’s dressed, he can address the problem.

He approaches Shade with his hands up slightly, trying to calm Shade as one would talk to an animal.

Now listen, son. This isn’t what it looks like?

(backing up)
It’s not?

No. It’s not what it looks like at all.

Then what the hell is it, Dad?

It’s... It’s nothing.


We were... It was...
...It’s not that big of a deal.

Not that big of a deal?

Exactly. Now you’re talking
some sense. It’s not that big of a deal at all.

Shade pulls back further, searching for something to say.

This... This just isn’t right...
What is right, son? This is as
natural a thing as anything else...

But mom...

You’ll understand one day, when you
wake up every morning next to a person
you don’t even know anymore. And you
look into their eyes and there’s
nothing left. None of that joy...
It’s all just... Gone.

So you fuck the help?

It’s not as coarse as all that.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You’ll understand someday.
You’re just going to have to trust me.

Trust you?

I’m still your father, goddamnit.

You’re still her husband.

I suppose that’s fair.

Get fucked. I can't believe you.
I came all the way down
here to tell you I got the job.
Now I just...

Shade has trouble finding words. He’s close to tears.

Hey, it’s okay...

Fuck you!

And with that, Shade leaves his father, turning and leaving the room.

Boyd hangs his head. Shamed.

The toilet flushes from the bathroom and the other woman comes out, dressed now.

I... I suppose you heard all that.

She nods.

Boyd crashes into a sitting position on the bed, his head buried in his hands.

She places a consoling hand on his back...

The sounds of him crying fade to nothing with the picture.