Evidence, Evidence

It was a problem you can only come up with if you are never worth anything but the designer suits you wear: he needed evidence of himself. Evidence, evidence, evidence. He filled a house with all of his receipts, because he could afford to. He wrote his name in the books he took out of the library and the ones he gave to charity. He gave money to colleges he didn't attend so that he could be on plaques in front of wings and libraries and auditoriums. He was the sponsor of scholarships that were for interest in nuclear science and others that were for the deconstruction of every nuclear power plant in the world. He got speeding tickets so cops would write his name in their little books. He was bad at parties; one time he met this girl that was kind of cute but he never worked up the nerve to ask her number.

One Cloud (Underwater)

Scenes 12

One:
When I tell you to lift me up above the crowd at the party, you ask how high. That is awesome. Really awesome.

Two:
You ask me to kill that bug. I mean it is a scream, frankly, or at the very least a shriek. Afterwards, I realize I used your Mensa day-to-day calendar. Forgive me. It was so close to making it under the armoire, and I didn't really have time to look for a newspaper or anything.

Three:
I hear you have serious ass cancer; I hear it's fatal.

Track

The sky is brown and bright and hot and a thousand gnats buzz around the runner's face as she looks up from the shadows of the empty classroom across the courtyard. There were trees here once, four months ago, but then things got hot and people got angry and now the trees are dead and the runner can see all the way across the flat, dead grass to the door that serves as her finish line. She used to run real track. She could fly, man.

Coach gave her this advice: "It's about 70 meters, and you'll have 8 seconds from the time the gun goes off. After that, it's no promises. I'll tell the starter to try to cover you. The baton is on the desk through the door; you have to break the biohazard glass."

They - they - sit inside unless the courtyard motion alarm goes off. It's cooler there, and that's the route the senseful unwary would take. They don't waste energy. They sit still.

She touches the edges of the window where the glass is broken, and then steps up into the frame, crouching, as close to a real starting position as she can get.

Her earpiece buzzes with static. Break, break. It's a regular thing.

Then the shot goes off, and she runs.

All Snared Up

Onstage before the Fourth of July concert, things were going to hell.

"I have this tradition," said Tom to Belle, the other percussionist. The strings were busy tuning up. "It's sort of to get me pumped up. Get some energy out there, you know."

Belle smiled nervously, glancing around at the tiny flags and the freedom-themed streamers and watching while Tom dug through his pocket. He took out a little boxcutter.

Tom said, "I think that's important to have before a concert. Energy. You know that head-pounding, blood-pumping feeling? It makes my rolls sizzle better." He walked over to the snare drum.

"What are you doing?" Belle asked, "is this a joke or something?"

Tom glanced at his watch. "I told you, it's tradition." He touched the tip of the blade to the drum's tight mylar skin. Belle shouted, "Stop! What are you doing?" A couple trombones turned around to look what was going on. From the wing, the conductor straightened his tie and nodded to the kid pulling the curtain. The blade dug in further.

"No one has ever objected before," he said. Then the curtain opened, the conductor strolled out graciously, and, over the applause in the dark, stifling auditorium, no one heard the quiet snapping noise from the back of the orchestra.

Three Minutes from the Day it Rained Watermelon

11:13 AM
B_____, Delaware

MARY
What's happening?

COLIN
It's raining watermelon. I mean watermelon.

MARY
Like the fruit?

COLIN
Yes, the fruit.

11:14 AM
W_____, PA

GEORGE
Fluffy! What- how did this happen?

FLUFFY
(whimpering noises)

GEORGE
This is terrible. Is that watermelon? Jesus.

11:15 AM
A_____, NY

ELEANOR
Gosh, it's really coming down out there.

LARRY (from bathroom, shaving)
Oh yeah?

ELEANOR
Yes. Plus, that's definitely watermelon.

LARRY
Don't call me melon. And what else would it rain?

So Many

There were so many, it was like drowning in a swimming pool full of cats and let me tell you why: water is cold and silent like a giant block of solid carbon dioxide carved into the shape of a serial killer, but cats squirm around so much that would just be an unpleasant death. Can you imagine that? Kittens in your mouth? I once had an aunt who snored and she told me once her cat crawled into her mouth and she almost bit it. A cat crawling in your mouth, I mean come on. That is as unexpected as a bat getting caught in your hair while jogging and then having it turned into a novel which is turned into a movie which is turned into a tragic broadway musical love story entitled "AT BAT: HAIR TODAY, GONE TOMORROW", which is a major hit and wins several Tony awards. The Tony awards part, that is the most unlikely, especially when you consider the musical's most well-known songs, including "White Nose Syndrome Took My Baby Away (Fungus Ain't Fun)". Gosh that song is terrible.

Systems

What she said a lot was I need to get this out of my system, like there was poison in her and she had to talk it out, like it would be a gross and messy death if she didn't say what was on her mind: That whistling is driving me crazy, and I really like that shirt. Her friends would recommend something like this: that when you hear her say that, you have to imagine the tiny versions of herself inside looking at the screen and thinking, Keep this, Keep this, and then, No. This has to go. Get it out.

So she just talked things out - little things and big things and happy things and sad things, which was an issue because they all became poison, they all became things she had to get out of her system, until over time she was just talking to save her life.

Swing That

In case you guys didn't hear, I'm experimenting this month with updating regularly every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday at 12 AM.

Love and Videogames

Curtain opens very tight on two desks, two chairs, and two computers - a small portion of the Friday night LAN party at a local internet cafe. PLAYER 1 is at the left computer, playing a game. He faces the audience.

Beside both of the desks are two large televisions hooked up to the computers, displaying what's happening on the computer. PLAYER 1 is doing pretty well on his game. The other screen is a screensaver.

PLAYER 2 walks on and sits at the other computer. He stares at the monitor. PLAYER 1 looks at him, then turns back to the computer.

PLAYER 1
What's going on, man?

PLAYER 2
I've made a huge mistake.

PLAYER 1 keeps playing.

PLAYER 2
You know that girl who comes here sometimes? She plays, like, sick pyro and everything?

PLAYER 1
Sure.

PLAYER 2
I was just talking to her, right? And last time we were kind of joking around about her bringing me a Mountain Dew for me to drink this week while I'm playing.

PLAYER 1's character dies. He sits back from the computer and waits for the respawn.

PLAYER 1
Speaking of playing, do you want to, like, play? I could seriously use some medicking here.

PLAYER 2
Medic - that's not a verb. You could use a med-

PLAYER 1
Yeah, okay. I could use a-

PLAYER 2
I'm just saying, maybe you could use some healing or something.

PLAYER 1
Just stop griping and get on the damn game.

PLAYER 2 grumbles a bit about verbs as he turns to his computer and opens up the game.

PLAYER 2
So anyway, we're talking about this Mountain Dew thing.

PLAYER 1
I'm on the server we use all the time.

PLAYER 2
The server we use all the time.

PLAYER 1
Yeah, I'm on that server.

PLAYER 2
You're saying the server we use every time - all the time - one hundred percent of the time. You're on that one. That's the one you want me to know you're on.

PLAYER 1 (clueless)
Yeah, man! Connect or whatever!

A beat. PLAYER 2 connects or whatever. There is some silence as his game loads the server. He selects his class - not a medic - and begins playing.

PLAYER 2
She forgot the Mountain Dew, though. That's the thing. She forgot it.

PLAYER 1
Huh?

PLAYER 2
The Mountain Dew she promised me last week. She forgot it.

PLAYER 1
Oh yeah, right.

PLAYER 2
So she says, "oh," you know, like, "I forgot your soda. How can I make it up to you?"

Silence. A spy saps one of the engineer's buildings on PLAYER 1's screen.

PLAYER 1
Spy! Spy, there's a spy. That soldier is a spy.

PLAYER 2
"How can I make it up to you?!" That is just asking for it! I could have just said you can go on a date with me on Friday. Why didn't I say that?

PLAYER 1
Right, man, you've got to- the spy is going to get away. He's cloaking hit him hit him! Ax, man! Use your ax.

PLAYER 2
I just said you can bring me one next week.

PLAYER 2 kills the spy.

PLAYER 1
Good, good, now, can we get some more people around here? [Shouting to the surrounding, off-stage LAN partiers] Can we get some more people around me and player 2? We're going to go for the flag and we need a few more people.

Murmurs of assent from off-stage, but no one is appearing on screen.

PLAYER 2
I don't even like Mountain Dew. What is wrong with me? You can just bring me some next week.

PLAYER 1
Hey, alright, I don't see anyone here. Where are you guys?

PLAYER 2
I bet that could have been something sweet she could have found out about me, that that whole Mountain Dew thing was just an excuse to talk to her.

PLAYER 1
Seriously, no one?

PLAYER 2 (suddenly paying attention to the game)
Let's just go without them.

PLAYER 1
No man, that'll never work. It's safer to wait for a few more guys.

PLAYER 2 starts to run his guy out of the base.

PLAYER 2
I'm sick of doing what's safe! I always just do what's safe! I want to take a risk!

PLAYER 1
What are you talking about, man? Where are you running off to?

His character is running out the door.

PLAYER 2
I want to go! I don't want to be cautious. I just want to-

In the daylight, outside his base, PLAYER 2 is sniped like a n00b. The respawn screen turns on.

PLAYER 1
I told you that would happen. Hey, listen, will you switch classes? I need someone to medic me.

Blackout.

That's So Right

"Is it okay that we've been driving around this much?" Raymond asked, "do you want me to give you gas money?"

Carver answered, "it's no problem. I have my parents' card."

He tossed the disc over the fence, and then they both hopped over awkwardly after it. Carver thought about that a lot, that he wished he could just vault over it like other kids from school. He was short though. That was the problem.

The sun beat down. It was Saturday.

They both stepped cautiously down the hill to the turf football field below, feet turned sideways. Raymond slipped a little. He didn't fall.

"Gosh, I can't believe Burk was trying to invite himself to come with us after lunch today," Carver said.

Raymond shook his head a little. "He's a nice guy, but he's just so boring. It drives me crazy."

"That's so right," Carver said.

On the field, they stood thirty yards apart and then started tossing. Forehand, backhand, hammer. It went like that. There were no words.

After a few tosses, Raymond's hammer slipped up and went the wrong way.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Carver responded, "I mean, it happens to everyone."

In December, Drinking Horchata

I sing in chorus, also: camerata.

Whoa!

"It is stupid to just write a story to make people sad," she said, "I am leaving you."

Then some kittens died.

Technical Fowl

This May represents my upcoming second annual Readers' Week! Please email me your stories, photographs, and puns. I'll post 'em up here for all to see.

THREE BREAKS

Based on my script for "An Exposition", published in January.