Jaron

This was written for a Writing Exercise, in which the participants had to write to particular specifications.

See it here.



A cheery voice, a smooth baritone, calls across the road just above the bustle of the busy market road.

"Back again, Squirrel?"

The speaker, a large man of perhaps fifty odd years old and a formidable girth, is standing behind a fruit stall smoking a cigarette and coating the goods with a thin coat of moisture sprayed from the bottle in his hand. His other hand is raised, greeting the poorly dressed man shuffling towards him.

Squirrel jerks his head forward in response.

"Hey Jack."

The stall owner shuffles his hand amongst the fruit.

"What'll it be today?"

"Gimme an apple."

"Which one?"

"That one," motions Squirrel with an outstretched finger.

"One apple, coming right up."

Jack picks up a particularly juicy looking one and hefts it several times before tossing it over to Squirrel. Fumbling slightly, the bum catches the fruit and takes an enormous bite, letting a little of the juice run down the stubble on his grizzled face. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he lets the haggard expression chiseled into his face crack a little, showing the merest hint of a grin.

"Thanks, Jack. You're a godsend, you are."

The stall keeper smiles sadly.

"It's no big deal, Squirrel. You know, it wasn't so long ago that I was a..." Jack stops himself short, looking suddenly concerned.

"A bum, Jack," nods Squirrel.

Jack shrugs, saying, "Anyways, you know how it goes."

"Yeah, it's pretty much the same," Squirrel replies.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Looking sharply up, Squirrel scratches up his left nostril, examining it shortly before flicking away the large booger on his finger.

"You know, Jack, you never told me how you got like us here."

"Never did? Well, damn. You know how it goes, huh?"

"Yeah, but everybody's got it a little different."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. That's right."

Jack's voice trails off, the smile gone from the jovial street seller's plump face. Silence reigns in the little bubble that surrounds Jack and Squirrel as the seller begins talking quietly.

"See, before this all started, I was actually doing alright. Actually owned a grocery store, you know. Had a wife and two kids. A girl and a boy. Jill and Richie. Had a duplex in the suburbs. Had a fucking Mazda in the driveway. The fucking Mazda..."

Looking up, suddenly, Jack's face darkens.

"I'll never get another fucking Mazda. Even if I do get the fucking money, I'll never get another fucking Mazda."

"You'll never get another Mazda," repeats Squirrel.

"Mazda fucking started the whole damned thing. See, one day, my wife got frontended by a schoolbus on a one way street. A couple kids on a joy ride, probably, but she spun out. Went off the road, off the bridge. The car fucking blew up, Jack. Have you ever seen a fucking car explode? Have you ever heard of a fucking car exploding? The fucking car exploded."

Jack continues.

"Anyways, she lasted five days in the hospital before she got off to the morgue. Well, my little girl couldn't take it. She downed a bottle of sleeping pills after I went to bed. Took her a week to die in the hospital. After that, it was just me and Richie."

Jack voice animates as he thinks about his son, and the smile returns to his face.

"Me and the kid were close for a while, real close, like you see on sitcom families. I remember when he used to call me the BFG, like in that kid's book, and I used to call him all sorts of things."

Jack's smile dies suddenly.

"Well, then the kid hit his fourteenth birthday. Think the kid got into one of the wrong crowds or something, started snorting and before you know it I started finding him passed out in the bathroom with a needle in his arm. One thing lead to another thing, and before you know it, the cops are dragging him off for killing some twelve year old kid when he was high."

Jack sighs audibly.

"Anyways, before you know it, I'm sitting on the bottle. I lose the store to debt, lose the house, and end up on the streets. That's pretty much it."

The silence is deafening as Jack and Squirrel stand statue still amidst the pedestrian traffic, staring uncomfortably into the other's eyes. After what seems like an eternity, Squirrel tries to speak. His voice comes out in a squeak, instead.

He clears his throat embarassedly and holds out his right hand.

"Jack... want an apple?"

The stall keeper smiles sadly, and an apple core hits the dirty pavement.

taliendo

I was moved by the piece, but I think that you try to convey almost too much information in such a space. It kind of screws up the pace of the two men's conversation. If the guys story were a little longer - or - broken with some kind of description of reaction I think that I would have flowed a bit better. I did like 'Squirrel's' final reaction though, witty and a good close for a short. Good Job! (sorry if you weren't looking for criticism)

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-LIFE IS ABSURD-

Stare At The Sun

I really enjoyed the piece, i was drawn into it, several great visuals in the piece. A little bit more length would be great, however, that final reaction is great. I also might like to see a little more emotion and reaction from the char's. Just my .02, you might want to have them shoot the shit before going into that deep of a convo, but the way you have it worked out, it does seem realistic. Good job!

Strobs

I'd like to see the movie. I reckon you could do something with the story taking him to the depth's and then back out again - or just drop us of at the end wondering. I was certainly into it when it ended.

J.R.V.A.

I like it too... You have a great way with words..

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And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart