newbie/n00b/etc

[spookyguts.livejournal.com]

Name: Sarah
Age: 21
Date of Birth: 9/25
Gender: Female
Sexuality: straight
Location:  oh
Occupation: college student/ barista/ sales
Hair: short, black, diry
Eyes: Black
Ethnicity: asian + american
Language: english, some korean, some japanese
Marital Status: single 
Looking for: yes. thoughts, reviews, criticisms. riveting conversations. a muse. an inspiration.
Tattoos/Piercings: nose ring, 4 tattoos. 
Religion: no thanks
Do you want LJ friends? yes, nice people and writers 
Do you want Snail mail pen-pals? got 'em 
About me (basics): going to school in hopes to one day graduate and teach english in asia.also i'm minoring in creative writing because i love it. i have three roommates and one bird. i also enjoy rollerskating
Hobbies: going to the bar. oh, and drawing, writing, reading, etc.
Music: right now, i can't stop listening to WHY? and ratattat
Books: middle stories, mad love, breakfast of champions, ardour, battle royale. i like flash fiction the best.
TV: haven't had cable for four years. i like short films though
Movies: adam elliot's: cousin, brother, uncle, le grande content, chel white's madga, pee wee's big adventure, the holy mountain, wizards

What do you write?: whatever is in my mind. i like to show a series of situations moreso than look at indvidual characters. i want to write about whats going on around everyone. i like bitter sweet tales.

i hope it's okay but i wanted to make my first story post. i look forward to reading your writing. i've always commented on some. :D (and i'm sorry the story's a bit long.....)

The Widow & The Salesman:

Title: W&S
Characters: the widow, the salesman
Chapter: short fiction 
Rating: M?
Warnings: bus crash.
Summary: the widow meets the salesman. they get to know eachother. it's something like that but i guess a little more. 
 Author's Note: i'm trying to figure out what I need in this story.

The Salesman: He was born on December 11th which made him a Sagittarius. According to the sky this meant he was "honest and straightforward" but also "blindly optimistic and careless". During labor his twin was pulled out of the womb lifeless. His mother never forgave him; she was positive that she had given life to the evil twin. Oh the good twin was too pure for this world; he was a saint she figured. Whenever the salesman made a mistake or failed a test his mother would utter, "Oh tsk tsk, what would your good twin think?". She spent a lot of his childhood shuffling priests in and out of the house to extract the "evil" within him. All the priests had the same thing, "Ma’am this is above us". Growing up, the salesman spent a lot of time playing with the cows in his neighbor’s pasture. He became a vegetarian when he was six after finding out what hamburgers were made of. He turned forty this year which meant he had spent thirty-four years meat free

The Widow: She was born on September 23rd which made her a Libra. This meant, (according to the skies again), she was "romantic and charming" but also "flirtatious and self-indulgent". Her mother and her father were high school sweethearts; somewhere along the line they realized their mistake. The two should have lived a little before getting hitched and having children. Now they were stuck and unhappy. Her father was a man's man; he had a beard to prove it. He was very bitter that his wife has not birthed a son for him to play baseball with or take hunting. Because of this grief he would punish the widow frequently and only addressed her as Tom. The father also loved guns; he owned twenty-three which he had hidden around the house. She remembered when she was seven, the one afternoon he got real sloppy and pulled one from out under the couch. "Tom get the butter" he had instructed then, and when she returned he rose the barrel to her head. "Now eat it. Yes, all of it". He had said, so she spooned it down into her mouth obediently. She has not touched butter since. She was 38 now which mean she has been butter free for thirty-one years. 

"Ding Dong" the bell was rung interrupting the widow's mid afternoon tea.

The tea was terrible anyways. It was too salty again. This was the whistling tea kettle’s fault. It always made her cry. She had reason though, to cry. The whistling reminded her of the late husband. They often got into fights and when he raised his voice it was always in a high-pitched hum that resembled the kettle's.

It has been said that "opposites attract" but in this case whoever said it was wrong. Being opposites was their biggest problem; the two were never able to communicate. It was if the two were speaking entirely different languages.

She wrote him a song once to express her frustrations in a melody.

It went something like this:

Your yelling sounds a lot like whistling,

the kind we hear from the tea kettle,

and all those arguments we'll never settle,

so instead we'll blame the tea kettle.

She remembers the infamous day she sang it to him. October 13th 2007 is memorable due to the fact it was the last day her late husband lived.

She wore a yellow dress and pulled her hair back into bun. Then she danced into the living room, singing in c-minor.

He didn't like it very much. His reply was "yeah yeah, move aside I'm trying to watch the Browns."

She got so upset she stormed up to their bedroom and cried into pillows.

The bus came then, true story, crashing into the living room smashing into the TV. and the lazy boy simultaneously.

And that was that, he was done for. Big finish.

She cried at his funeral like a good wife would, but it didn't take her long to get over the ordeal.

She does wish that their last moment together was more pleasant. It would have made his death more tragic, at least to her.

Still, being hit by a bus with bad breaks is still considered a tragedy to most of society.

"Ding Dong" the bell rings again. She had been completely submerged into her past, escaping the present for a quick second.

She rises up from her seat and heads to the door where she's greeted with a big smile full of crooked teeth.

"Hey ma’am, How are you doing? I'm here to change your life." He informed.

"Really, How so? She inquired.

"This vacuum here is will have your whole house clean and with no.." She attempted to slam the door in his face but to her dismay he had placed his foot inside.

"Ouch" he said before he fell and dropped his briefcase. It landed at an awkward angle which caused it to open, spilling the insides to the floor.

There, scattered on her carpet haphazardly laid papers, breath mints and a handgun.

"Oh no, good lord!" She started to shake. She remembered her father's obsession.

She collapsed onto the floor quickly. It was as if her legs ran off to safety without her.

The salesman tried to catch her.

He missed.

"Oh no ma’am, please don't get the wrong idea"

It was too late for an explanation.

She had fainted.

The salesman pulled her up onto the couch. "Should I leave her here, or should I stay until she wakes up?"

he mumbled to himself. He decided to let fate decide. He flipped a coin calling heads in mid-air.

And Heads it was! He would stay until then.

He made his way to the kitchen to prepare some tea. Moments later he returned to the living room and placed his possessions into his briefcase.

The salesman did not want the widow to faint again, once a day was enough. He turned on the TV. and propped himself against the couch the widow was passed out on.

The laugh tracks played accordingly.

......

The widow woke up halfway through an episode of Seinfeld.

She placed her legs onto the carpet and after two attempts she was standing. It took her a minute to come to her senses and establish balance. She now remembered why she had fainted.

"Well, uhm. If you want my valuables so you can leave just follow me upstairs" She said turning to their direction.

The salesman outstretched him arm, getting a hold of hers,

"Ma'am, don't get me wrong. I'm not a killer, I'm a salesman. One of the best in the country."

He stopped looking for the right words to say next,

"You see sometimes I'm out there selling in the bad neighborhoods. It’s dangerous but they need vacuums too."

"Makes sense" The widow whispered, "You just can't trust people nowadays".

The two nodded their heads up and down in unison.

"Well," the salesman began, "I'd like to make up for what happened. Please, I won't take no for an answer. I'll be right back"

Before the widow could interject, the door was slammed. Before the widow could sit down, the bell was rung again.

There, with the same crooked teeth stood the salesman with a vacuum in his arms. "It's on the house"

The widow smiled.

"Really, it’s not a big deal, It's okay" She insisted.

"I won't take no" The salesman said firmly.

The widow smiled again. "Well, I'm getting to prepare myself some lunch. You're invited. It'll be ready in fifteen, see you then"

The salesman walked back to his vehicle parked out front, and turned on the radio.

The chorus was catchy.

......

In approximately fifteen minutes the salesman returned.

"My aren’t you punctual" exclaimed the widow.

"Thank you, I just waited in my van" the salesman confessed.

The widow laughed before leading the salesman to the kitchen table.

The two sat down and the widow began to nibble at the turkey sandwiches she had prepared. The salesman looked down at his plate.

"Is something wrong?" questioned the widow.

The salesman shrugged, and in his best attempt to be polite, picked up the sandwich, bringing it up to his lips.

The widow watched, anticipating his first bite.

He let out a sigh.

"I should have told you before you went to all this trouble. I don’t eat meat"

"Well, you can have toast then. There’s bread on the counter" she pointed out.

The salesman made his way to the bread, pulling out two slices.

"Would you mind if I got some butter from the fridge?" he asked.

"Oh no, I don’t eat butter"

The salesman sat down at the table and stuffed the slices into his mouth.

"My aren’t we picky eaters" he said after swallowing.

The two broke out into laughter.

They got to talking, about little things, big things, stupid things, and smart things. The conversation was rich, genuine, and refreshing for both parties.

The salesman began coming every other Thursday for lunch. The widow would make meat and butter free meals for the two of them.

One morning the widow wrote the salesman a song, much like she had for the late husband.His existance made her happy. She knew this was a way to show him.She sang it to him later that week, right before lunch.She wore her yellow dress and let her hair down. The she tiptoed over to the salesman singing in c-minor.

I’ll be your flower if you’ll be my bumblebee

so come on over baby and pollinate me

for I’ll be a butterfly soon

come on baby stop on by, before I get my winds

and learn to fly

It’s nature. It’s only natural, to love you the way

that I do

The song made the salesman blush. No one had ever written him such a lovely song. This one, especially, was perfect..not because it was about him. No, it was because of the widow.

......

Seasons passed and everything continued to be wonderful.

One day the salesman turned to the widow and said,

"Widow, you know you are my very best friend"

The widow agreed.

"Yes, salesman you are the most important person."

The two were cursing around town, picking out clouds that seemed to resembled barn animals.

"Cow" the widow pointed to the sky.

"Duck" the salesman pointed above the telephone lines.

The breeze was in their hair and their noses, drying out their eyes and words. The widow has turned around to rummage the back seat for something to drink.

"You know, I don’t want you to be a widow anymore. You’re too special"

blurted out the salesman.

The widow turned around, diverting her attention to him.

"You know, I don’t want to be one either."

"Well then you can be my bride!"

"What an idea!"

The salesman pulled the car over into an empty lot. The two danced, hugged, and cart wheeled all over the asphalt.

"Before I met you, I always felt unwanted" admitted the widow.

"I’m glad I changed that, I really am" gushed the salesman. He too had always felt this way.

"Well" the widow began, "why don’t we go now?"

"Where…to Vegas?" questioned the salesman.

"Yes, if we hurry we can book a flight when we get there! I'll race you to the car!"

The widow and the salesman sprinted the short distance to the vehicle. She won because the salesman had let her.

......

The two arrived to the airport quickly. They decided not to pack anything. They’d rough it for a couple of days.

The salesman purchased two tickets on his credit card. Soon they would be boarding the plane.

"I’m very excited" exclaimed the widow as she bounced up and down the plane’s aisles.

They settled into their seats. The two smiled and each other and exchanged the sweetest of kissed. The widow was so overcome with happiness she began to cry.

"Sorry, it’s just that I never thought I’d feel this way…wanted, happy" sobbed the widow into the salesman sleeve.

He placed his arms around her and squeezed her real tight.

In their youth, the two and their births were seen as an inconvenience, a mistake. And now, here, they were finally accepted and appreciated.

A static voice came from above

"Buckle In. We’re getting ready to take-off"

......

The plane exploded into flames upon ignition. Big finish.

And you see their deaths would be tragic if their last moment wasn’t so pleasant, the widow would agree.

Still, a fiery plane explosion is considered a tragedy to most of society.

The end

 

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