What Can You do With Eggs, Part 1

I like eggs. Scrambled Eggs, any other form of this reproductive failure of a chicken is disgusting. Anyways I was making my usual eggs when I decided to be brave! So I got out some salsa, nom. I hate salsa by the way.
So I drained most of the water out of a cup of salsa and mixed it in with 5 uncooked scrambled eggs. After pouring them in the pan I let them cook, pushing in the sides every few minutes so the liquid stuff could be cooked as well. I also added a slice of cheddar cheese at this juncture, when I was done I had a semi round yellow slightly browned mass of salsa-y egg-y cheese-y yummy-ness. Then I dumped it onto a plate with some lettuce leaves (which I also hate. So I'm enjoying my concoction of nooby cookin'.

So...That was my attempt at a cooking blog! I refuse to go back and proofread it so...

Blogging

What is a blog? A place to put our most innermost thoughts? A way to communicate with total strangers? Fragile attempts at stories to shock, amuse, awe, or impress random readers as they come to your tiny URL among trillions of URLs. In fact we don't even have out own URLs, just a / after www.blogger.com.
What is a blog? Maybe something to help the one of the millions of little tiny dots of sand on a seashore of millions feel important by reaching out to another fleck on the complete other side of the beach.
That is what a blog is. Taking a chance. Putting a little of yourself out there for the world to see. Who knows, a blog could completely open up the world into petals catching the sunlight of opportunity. But unlike the masochistic tradition of broken lovers trying to find answers in flower petals. I will rip all potential petals off this flower at once and take what this blog will give me, however small the profit.

Evil Businesses

Evil Businesses

Linda hit the off button on her computer and glared at the monitor. “Why freeze on me? I was almost done with that report!” She hissed through her closed teeth and closed her eyes in complete frustration. The computer mocked her before turning off by popping up a message.

“Do you want to save your work so far?” The Microsoft paper clip happily stated, before curving into a bike and riding off. Linda frantically hit ‘yes’ fifty million times before the screen went blank.

She swore loudly.

Ten minutes later she pounded on the office door next to hers “Johnny are you still working in there?” She stood on tiptoe and tried to peak through the slit window. Leaning up against the door she fell into him when he opened the door. He laughed.
“Linda was that you I heard blistering the ears of God? I didn’t know he had it out for you so much to deserve being called that” He hugged her with one arm because the other held his cigarette.

“That stupid computer deleted my report”

“When is it due?”

“Another week, do you really think that if it was due sooner I’d be out here talking to you?”

Johnny glanced at his watch “Actually seeing as it one in the morning, yes”

She sighed “Thanks for waiting you’re the best”

“Aren’t I?” He held out his arm chivalrously for her to hold. By the time they hit the elevator their hands were twined together and she was still leaning her head on his shoulder.

The janitor passed them pushing his cart of supplies bouncing his head to his iPod music. Linda asked him if he wanted to take the elevator with them, he didn’t hear her. He merrily pushed his cart along to the stairs. Johnny expelled his breath in such a way that the sound was like a short squawk on a dilapidated car horn. Linda poked him in the ribs. “Don’t laugh, maybe there’s something wrong with the elevator?”

The doors opened, some typical elevator music filtered out.

Johnny shrugged and, again with mock chivalry, moved aside so she could go in first. By the time the door was closing they were kissing gently, eyes closed and happy. Her engagement ring glinted in the light and reflected a little beam of light around the elevator. Johnny reached to hold her cheek with his left hand and realized that he still held the cigarette in his hand. He absentmindedly tossed it into a corner.

Suddenly Linda stopped. “Hear that?”

Johnny mumbled against her lips “Hear what? There’s no sound” He tried to continue the kiss. Linda pushed him away, but still held on.

“The music stopped” Linda said confused, her arms tightening slightly on his shoulders as needles of fear fizzled up her spine. Johnny looked up to the speaker placed not so surreptitiously in the corner. He shrugged just as the lights flickered and went out.

Linda Screamed and pulled Johnny back closer. He laughed, but Linda could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. Johnny put his hand in his hair and brushed his fingers through; he would never act afraid while she was here. Linda’s heart throbbed and even though she was terrified she loved him even more at that second; he would always protect her.

“It’s O.K. Lin, listen the elevator is still moving” The whirrs and clicks seemed to grow loud and louder. Johnny glanced around and realized that he could still see. A faint light was coming from the button panel. Then with a sickening lurch the elevator stopped.

Linda started to hyperventilate.

“We must be at the lobby don’t worry” he let go of her to reach over and press the ‘open door’ button. The doors slid open to reveal a solid concrete wall and two inches at the top of carpeted floor. They stared for awhile, and then Linda fainted.

Johnny supported her awkwardly for a moment before he realized then he started to feel panic course through him. He started to shake as he laid her down on the floor.

“Linda wake up, can you hear me?”

Linda didn’t answer. He picked up her hand and started rubbing it then he realized that was stupid, they only did that on TV. She looked like she was sleeping. Johnny started to giggle, a sound like little hiccoughing monkeys, panicked and desperate. Her face was cold to the touch.

He lost all his calm. What he viewed as his one and only love at his feet barely breathing in a dark and silent box suspended on thin cables, for all he knew, a hundred feet above the ground. He cast about him for something to help him and again he saw the control panel. His mind snapped to various science fiction movies where they pulled a wire and everything started again. His eyes wide and bright he reeled back and punched with all his might through the panel. The light flickered out, plunging him into pitch black. He reached his hand in and started pulling wires at random. Nothing happened.

Between bursts of laughter he swore as he saw on the broken a panel a button that said ‘call fire department’. The wire was pulled out. A burst of genius filled him and he pulled out his cigarette lighter, lit a cigarette, put it in his mouth for a quick puff, then through it out onto the two inches of floor he could see. Smoke immediately started curling up. He sat down by Linda and resumed rubbing her hand as he watched the smoke curl up. Flickering light from the fire lit up the grin on his face as the fire alarm went off.

The janitor moved away from the electrical box as he finished pushing all the buttons that turned off all major electricity drains. He didn’t hear the alarm, his iPod was too loud.

The next morning, after all the fire crews had finally gotten the fire put out they searched the building for the cause. They found a cigarette by the elevator shaft on one floor; the doors were wide open revealing the top of the elevator. One of the fire men pulled off his helmet and bent down to peer into the elevator. He gasped at the sight. A handsome young man curled into a fetal position holding tightly in his death grip the hand of a young woman. Both were dead. Hours later it was determined the suffocated as the fire pulled all the oxygen slowly from the elevator.

Parents

“I’m sorry Nadeen, but that is just one ugly baby” He held the week old boy out at arms length from him, with his nose wrinkled from the rank stench from its dirty diaper. The mother turned from straightening the bed and was about to take offence when her eyes caught the full glory of her son’s visage and smiled resignedly.
“Babies usually are”
“But this badly? It almost makes me never want to touch you again knowing this is the kind of baby we produce!”
His face was more wrinkled than an old man’s and the left side was marred by a huge purple birthmark that slithered outward from the middle of his cheek to end in cine like creepers just reaching the right eye. His head was proportionally too small for his ten pound five ounce body that was made out of wads of skin wrapped around badly folded bulky towels. A full head of piss yellow hair graced his head to almost touch his searing green eyes. His ears were placed too low and nose too high, which was a squashed mass of cartilage with nostrils up and facing out. His mouth was long and wrapped almost halfway around the head with lips a half pumice birthmark, half peach color. But he never cried more than a whimper, yet always had a perpetual frown.
Nadeen and her husband were very happy with their child, the Monster. As he grew older, he grew quieter, but uglier. His mis-sized head caught up to his body but the birthmark seemed to grow bolder. His body stayed huge, but not with over feeding, muscle he never seemed to work for grew strong and gave the Monster’s limb’s their ugly bulkiness and He never made a sound when he walked with uncommon grace. At five years he looked eight in height and strength.

Nadeen started schooling him early when the Monster said his first word at seven months and walked in nine. He already could recite squares up to seven, and state capitals took less than a week to memorize. A child prodigy in the hands of a parent too willing to shape him, Nadeen and her husband never saw his defects. Until they had another child.
This one was beautiful, bright blue eyes, shining blond hair, a smile always giggling her face to contrast his frown. The Monster’s sister was an Angel. Two years apart they developed a rivalry early. Both were smart beyond their years, and the festering hatred was fueled by their fierce competition. They entered school, he in eight, she in sixth, yet at ages ten and eight respectively, and both thought junior high extremely boring and easy. The Monster was a loner, no friends and barely talked in class. The Angel was popular and was always surrounded by her own little clique at all times, despite age difference.
The Angel was perfect
The Monster couldn’t have cared less
Nadeen and her husband encouraged the competition between the two. Enrolling them both in extensive dance courses and skipping them grades ahead. They would encourage one child and put down the other, play favorites, punish unfairly, reward only perfection. The children were honed to a sharp mistrust of the world and each other.
But when they danced together they needed no music. Their bodies moved in perfect concert, yet their eyes sizzled hatred at each other, green meeting blue in a bond that locked them together more strongly than love ever could.
The Monster graduated from high school at sixteen, and the Angel followed two years later Both received full scholarships to the college of their choice and many others. The Monster went to Yale. The Angel in a fit of rebellion against her parents went to The University of Washington.
They didn’t see each other for years after the Angel’s high school graduation. They never talked on the phone, nor did they correspond online, yet they were forced to keep tabs on the other’s progress. Nadeen spent hours talking with each of them, babbling about how great the other was. She even called them the Monster and Angel.
The Monster studied Architecture. His buildings held a beauty that bordered on revolting, pushing accepted norms to the limit of all his mother’s high expectations. The Angel, though never admitted it, secretly adored his work, and commissioned a house from him under an assumed name. Her field of study was teaching, Math specifically. She settled into a career as an Algebra teacher in an Alaskan high school. Her house was a bruise on the colorless landscape of an Alaskan winter, all sharp angles and incarnate anger. The Angel loved it. She never saw the Monster in the building of it, instead preferring to vacation in Florida over the summer while he built her house, he never found out. Yet, the love for the house only deepened the hatred she had for her brother.
Nadeen constantly berated the Angel on her lack of giant success that the Monster was getting, She constantly whined about how the Angel was not living up to her full potential as a second rate algebra teacher in a small rural school.
The Monster’s career grew in leaps and bounds, soon catapulting him into starting his own business. He was twenty-five when he was invited to England to build a summer home for the Prime Minister.
She was twenty-three when she almost lost her job, In desperation she used her perfect body in a way she never thought she would, losing her virginity to a man double her age, the Angel kept her job, but was changed forever. The Angel invested more and more time into her body, realizing the powerful controlling weapon she had at her disposal. Soon she had the principle of the school wrapped around her finger instead of the other way around.
She started dancing again, to keep fit and work her body even more. So did the Monster, but he had never stopped. He danced once a week, solo, in a small dance studio he rented for the purpose.
Tracy, the owner of the studio, was an astute petite lady who watched him from the small window in her office door, she was a fan of his work, but had never talked to him. One day during his renting session she received a phone call from the local hospital. Her mother had been in a car accident and was close to death. Tracy rushed out of her office and out the door, only to come back in and collapse as she realized that she didn’t have her car, as she walked to work. She started babbling to the Monster as he awkwardly knelt in front of her careening form. Then he scooped her up to her squeak of protest and deposited her in his car. The Monster barely stayed within legal speed limits as he rushed to the hospital to brake squealing at the entrance. Two hours later Tracy stumbled out into the pouring rain to find the Monster still idling there. He got out of his car and held her as she just cried against his chest. The only daughter of a single mom, now alone in the world, held on to the Monster like a lost child.
The next day she cancelled all her classes and stood staring out the window at the unending rain, funeral plans purposely ignored on her desk, her phone with the Monster’s number dialed and redialed in every time the phone reset. Finally she hit send.
A year later the Angel received an invitation to the Monster’s wedding

The day came, Nadeen and her husband were completely in their element acting as both sets of parents as they planned the wedding. Although Tracy and the Monster insisted it be kept small.
The monster was alone in his hotel room after his shower, a towel wrapped around his waste, shaving when the knock at his door came THe monster opened it to find his sister. Years of separation had only made the heart grow colder. Green and blue met in again and acrimony joined them once more.
"Sister, I didn't think you'd come" He almost shut the door in her face but she put her foot in the way and pushed her way in. She was striking in a black, ripped mini skirt and form fitting blouse.
"I never thought you;d get married before me, I doubt our parents did either." The monster shrugged and continued shaving while the Angel stabbed him with her eyes. He came out of the bathroom and stared back before rolling his eyes and sitting on the bed, sighing.
"What do you want?" Footsteps came from the open door to accompany his words. The Angel glanced over her shoulder then returned her glare to the monster for a few seconds before throwing herself at him tearing at her blouse. Her mouth smashed against his as her momentum pushed him back against the bed.
A gasp echoed from the door as the Monster pushed his sister from him. Tracy stood in the doorway gaping at the scene. The Monster, his towel askew, gripping the beautiful Angel who was laughing, her blonde hair falling from her shoulders to caress her breasts barely encased in a lacy bro, her shapely legs straddling his waste, skirt pushed up.
The engagement ring bounced off her forehead, causing her to laugh even harder.
"Tracy!" The monster tried to get up but the Angel tripped him and dumped the bed sheets on him. "Tracy!" He rushed out the door trailing a floral sheet while his sister collapsed in hysterics. But Tracy was long gone. He rushed back into the room when he heard a car start and stared out the window. The monster screamed in pain as he saw his bride drive off in the get-a-way car.
He turned back to the Angel who mockingly held the ring out to him.
"You...you. MONSTER!" He screamed in impotent rage and rushed at her like the archangel. He grabbed her by the arms and spun her off the bed. The towel had fallen off and he whirled her around the room shaking her as he pried the ring out of her hand. When he achieved it he slammed her head against the wall. When her mouth opened in a gasp he rammed the ring down her throat. She pushed back and the danced a dance as macabre as death. He wrapped his hands around her throat and banged her head continuously against the wall.
Hours later saw Nadeen and the wedding party alone in the church. The Monster was in the same car he had first taken Tracy to the hospital in. The radio reported of a strange accident. A Wedding get-a-way car, wrapped around a telephone pole, the only passenger dead.
The Monster screamed, closed his eyes, and pushed the gas petal to the floor.

(note from the author: paragraph markings should be better in later stories)

Nightmares

“Tracy, do you know the answer…Tracy? Wake up and pay attention” Tracy lifts her head off her desk. She had not been asleep as the teacher had thought. She answers the question and opens her eyes quickly but shuts them again. Her hand floats up and covers her eyes.
“Are you feeling O.K.?”
“Migraine” she whispers, she lies.
“Would you like a pass to the nurse?” Tracy shakes her head.
“Well, you can keep your eyes closed, just keep your head up” Nod, the teacher continues to drone on for minutes more before Tracyopens her eyes again. It’s still there. Before she can close her eyes again it turns and looks at her. A smile splits across its face, opening it in a grimace, pale, emptied of color. No one else sees the apparition sitting across the room starting down Tracy. No one else sees the puddle of red gathering on the floor beneath its feet. Tracy can’t close her eyes now. It holds them open with nothing more than its gaze. It slowly lifts up its chin.
Tracy’s hands shake and spasm beneath her desk, wanting to tear her eyes out. The thing is wearing a hoodie and jeans, the hair falls midway down its back and is full of color. Not a ghost. The pale skin stands in sharp contrast to the very real colors of the thing’s clothes and blood.
It continues to move its head up till its neck is completely barred. The gash of red that is slashed against her neck opens even taller. It gushes forth a brilliant red, faceted liquid that catches the light of the sun coming through the window. It flows down her neck and soaks the hoodie to start a fast drip drip to the floor.
The split stretches and widens into a grin, curved around her neck. It opens and closes and words in a sibilant hiss echos forth.
“All your fault, All your fault” It starts to laugh spewing blood even farther across the room to splash on her face. The head swivels back down and faces Tracy, though the gash still mumbles beneath it. “All your fault, All your fault” The thing’s real mouth smiles as it’s second faux one continues to taunt. The real one opens and the voice Tracy dreads comes laughingly forth.
“It’s ok, I’m happy now”
“All your fault”
Both its mouths talk. Both are smiling. Both are accusing. One with hate, the other with thanks. The thing raises its arm till the fingers point out oat Tracy. She twitches her head away but her eyes are still locked. It raises its sleeves one by one and blood flows even harder joined by the riveres from both of its wrists. The red streams down, its hands covered in it as it splashes toward the ground.
The teacher rambles on oblivious of the blood around her practical brown shoes No one else notices the ocean of red that threatens to drown them all. The gash in the neck coughs again, splashing out more words.
“You could have stopped me, all your fault” The blood doesn’t stop, even though the floor is covered from corner to corner and is starting to trickle out the door.
“I’m happy now, there’s no more pain” its eyes, pale, clouded, accuse but the mouth smiles. A tear starts to track down Tracy’s face.
“Tracy, I am going to send you to the nurse if the headache is that bad.” The teacher eclipses Tracy’s view of the thing and she immediately closes her eyes, the spell is broken.
Tracy nods for the teachers benefit as she sloshes off, unaware, ankle deep. Laughter rasps forth from the thing’s second mouth.
“John can you take her to the nurse for me?” Tracy hears the pass ripping off the stack and John’s affirmative grunt. But the drip and splash of the blood is louder. John’s musky scent touches her nostrils. But the smell of hot iron and salt is stronger.
“Tracy?” John puts a hand on her elbow and Tracy shoots out of her chair and runs for the door. Her eyes open as she faces it, but she sees the reflection of the thing in the window. Both mouths grin as more blood streams around the room. John pushes her politely out the door and she escapes. She runs down the hallway leaving a confused John behind. She turns a corner, stops, and faces the tall windows that frame the end of the hallway, facing out to blue sky.
Her ankles itch and she looks down, her socks are red and the shoes are stained.
“Tracy the nurse is this way….” John trails off as he sees Tracy’s horrified expression directed at her spotless white socks.
She faces the window again. How high is it? It’s on the third floor…John puts his hand on her shoulder. She violently shrugs it off and starts to run.
“Hey!”
She can hear it shout “NO!” in harmony to itself screaming in joyous laughter as the window shatters.

John stands there staring, shocked, as the window shards tickly against the concrete below. He shivers. Did he hear a laugh?

First post

So this is a blog I just started for all my stories, I'll be posting ones as I see fit for other people's eyes (Dominique Francon much?)