lunch break

"So, there I was, minding my own business and having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich my wife made..."
"She still makes you those?"
"Hell yeah! They're the best! Anyway, there I was enjoying lunch when all of a sudden this man comes running into the construction site. He was really scared and was always looking back as if someone was following him."
"Did he say anything?"
"Not much. He babbled something about an experiment that went wrong and that he wasn't safe anymore."
"Yeah. I remember now. Me and the boys were coming back from the 7/11 when we saw you talking to him. So, what happened next?"
"Well, it was like I told you. He was babbling on about that experiment. Then he suddenly looked back and just froze. Like he'd seen a ghost or somethin'. I went to look but there was nothing there. When I came back, he was gone."
"Weird."
"And that's not the half of it. The next day the police came looking for a man that apparently matched his description. A short brown haired man, with a mustache and small glasses. He was gone missing from his home a few days back."
"Did you tell them about the experiment?"
"What experiment?"
"The one he was babbling about..."
"No. I guess they didn't ask. They just wanted to know if he passed by."
"And?"
"And I told them that he passed by."
"The foreman was right, you do have 'worker potential'." [laughs]
"Laugh all you want, but that man wasn't running from a ghost. He had a look on his face... I don't know... like death had stared him in the eye."
"And how would you know that? Did the foreman show you?"[laughs]
"I saw it in a movie once. This man was hunted by an assassin. The assassin gave up on him, but he still was paranoid about everyone. I can borrow you the DVD if you want?"
"No thanks."

A whistle blew.

"That's it men, back to work."
"Ah, rats! I never get to finish my sandwich in time."
"That's because you talk too much. See you near the cement truck."
"Will do. After I finish my sandwich."

The other man left.

"Hey, Frankie! C'mon man, the boss is mad again. He sent me for you. How many of those things are you gonna eat?
Oh no..."

The air vibrated slightly as the second bullet hit it's target.

Slim and Sam

This be the story of two children, Slim and Sam; Sam was slim, Slim was not.

Going into the forest one day, Slim found a dead bird in his way. He came home crying for the small feathered being.
Going into the forest one day, Sam found a dead fox in his way. He came home crying for the small furry being.
Going into the forest one day, Slim and Sam didn’t find a dead bear in their way. They ran home crying.
Not going into the forest one day, nobody found Slim and/or Sam in any way. They didn’t come home crying.

Torn paper fills the sky as does it on a wedding. Some are on the ground[looking at the sky], some are in the sky[looking all over]; some are watching, others are just curious. Most don’t know a thing.
From above, from the chopper in the air, sun light is seen flashing down below, from the thousands pieces of broken glass, like stars on the pavement.
Black smoke rushes out and up, away from the broken window. The fire truck is here, splashing about hoses and gallons of foamy water; with no use for there is no fire left to burn.
Wet policemen strap the whole building in long yellow tape, making knots as they go past each corner.

A news van has just arrived into the area and the underpaid crew gets ready for a cheap satellite connection with no guarantee of a raise or of their own safety.
The local barbershop is still open and some clients with foam on their faces and/or half shaved heads, have gathered round to see why the barber is shouting in the middle of the street that “The end is near!”. A wet fireman gets him out of the way of the incoming ambulance.
Blue and red light flashes everywhere.
Soon the whole scene is empty, only torn paper on the streets, rubble as well, and the yellow plastic barrier. You would have though that people can be more considering for such an undocumented tragedy. They can be.

A bouncing ball crosses the street, past the barrier, into the ruined building. He gets the ball and goes not back. He goes up the stairs, driven by curiosity, and the thrill of being found and punished for being “a bad boy”.
The first floor looks normal[his father worked here and often took him along].
The second floor didn’t look as normal as the first. It was more than different: a huge hole in the wall made for a nice view of the city. On the opposite side a door was missing. He went in.
The same: torn paper, broken glass.

There was blood on the floor.

He went home running, crying his way down the stairs, under the yellow barrier, past the street and into an apartment building nearby; leaving his ball in the room, beside the place where a human figure lay drawn on the floor.

This be the story of two bald men. Their names are of little importance, though we shall refer to them as Slim and Sam. Sam was smart, so was Slim.
Sam went to work every day, as did Slim.
They went to work to earn their pay, and came home on the very same day [they were both good at what they did].
Going to work one day, Sam met Slim on his way. They both went home that day, early.
Going to work the next day, Slim sought to meet Sam on his way. It didn’t happen.
Working his way to the end of the day, Slim met Sam, who came to say hello.

Going to work every day, Sam never met Slim.

still a cold day

... in the subway people were waiting in the sounds of garbled newspapers, loud steps, casual talk about the weather and the faint hiss of the ventilation shafts.
The clock on the wall shows the time, 07:30. Men and women going to their workplaces to earn a decent living. At least most of them.

Within the crowd he could see how others got pick pocketed, how they still were laughing at dirty jokes while their hard earned money got swapped away; along with the small pieces of plastic and paper that represented their very identity.

Despicable as it was, he couldn't care less. Others saw it as well, not many, that is true, but enough to have been able to prevent it. They would simply look away.

The train lights appeared at the far end of the tunnel. Shortly after they all went silent. [the pickpocket had earned his pay]
The clock on the wall ticked away slowly, while some tapped their feet on the floor, impatient as they were.
It reached the station, blazing by them not 20 cm away, screeching as it stopped.
The doors open. A crowd exits from every door, while another was eager to enter.

Attention. Doors closing.

Inside, people weren't as eager to talk as they were before. Some were reading, others were listening to music in small hidden earphones. Some were standing, holding themselves to the metal poles around and near every exit and above their heads. Some were sitting, doing mostly the same things.

They all had a grim look on their faces, starring into the void of the long compartment as it turned and casually wobbled.

The train stopped at the next station, not 3 minutes after departure.

Doors opening.

A crowd exits from every door, while another was eager to enter.
He got out near an intersection.

It was still cold outside.

a cold day

While walking down the street, he came by two men. They were talking near the corner store, each holding one donut.

"Cold day isn't it?"
"Yup."

"Hasn't been this cold since... last year."
"Yup."

"I mean think of it... three days ago the sun was shining all day long, you were out in your t-shirt, and now what? My wife has me wearing winter socks to work so that I don't catch a cold. Nasty one this year! she says. There's no justice in this world."
"Yup."

"It's not fair. The weather forecast said today would be a relat... relativ... relativelily warm day. What does 'relativelily' mean anyway? Do you know?!"
"Yup."

"So how are the wife and kids? Everything ok?"
"Yup."

He passes by the two men.

"Good day to you mister. Cold day isn't it?"
[No answer.]

"Now there's one heck of a loud mouth."
"Yup."