Reflection

I am happy with the feedback that I received from the class today. I’m glad that my story was well understood and my intentions came across as intended. Were I would go from here, even though I think I will go on to edit first story, would be to add a few things. One I would add in a character that recognizes my main character to add some juxtaposition to what his normal personality is like. I like that would leverage the story so that the reader would know why his behavior is so different from his normal one. I would also workshop the ending a little. I think overall it’s good but I think I might deliver it a bit differently. I would possibly also add some more meat to the middle of the story. Overall though this story was a lot of fun to write and evolved a lot over the course of writing the story. I think it was really cool how it started with two characters and I didn’t find there story to be that interesting or entertaining so I moved to a different character in their world and expanded the story there. 

First Draft

               Hero

                                                                           By: Jack Allsopp

                                                            (Caution; strong language)

I sat with my back facing the sun so it created a shadow over my laptop so I could still see the blank page in front of me. The cursor blinked at me like it was getting impatient for me to start creating a masterpiece. For some reason I had thought that sitting outside a coffee shop alone would give me that sense inspiration that coffee shops a supposed to give artist.  I thought maybe that people would pass by and give me a look like I was onto “something,” that I was important.

Truth is, I’m waiting for the “something” to get me out of here. Mostly I was ignored because all writers think they are more interesting than they are, or that is what my ex used to tell me before she dated that accountant with who eventually bored her to death, well figuratively but you get the point.

It is so frustrating because you try to be “something” of interest, you try to create meaning out of nothing and then you realize you’ve been staring at a tree or in a hazed out of focus on some person a few tables over from you, who inevitably notices, making you do that awkward glance away knowing they were onto your dazed out state. But then sometimes something interesting happens and the words start to come to you. Like you notice a girl and what you like about her face. Like that girl over there I’ve been zoning out on. Then you put that face into different scenarios and fantasies in your mind and a story starts to form and then you start to put words on the page and the magic starts to happen and then… wait did she smile at me?

She smiled directly at me. Like AT ME? Like I was the only reason for her smile. Not someone else, not some other guy, not the sun, not her breakfast, not because she thought of something she likes. She smiled at me and I was suddenly a boat in her ocean. She was going to rock my world and I did not know the half of it. We were going to cross seas of storms and see days of bright blue ocean like turquoise glass reflecting in sunlight. Seeing a smile, you brought to someone’s face without even trying, by being fully immersed in yourself and what you bring to the world is what I find to be the meaning of everything we experience. Our world is so full of terrible terrors and horrible horrors but man what the dance of a smile on lips can make your heart leap with the music of joy.

“Hey, you’ve been here for like an hour, we have an hour limit on these tables as other customers would like a turn at using these seats.” I snap out of my fantasy and look up into the blinding light of a spring morning and at the waitress who I could tell really was not pleased to have to tell me this.

“Oh yes sorry of course.” I rely with an annoyance masked by the polite tone of “I don’t care enough to add conflict to this Sunday morning interaction”.  Jeez can’t a guy daydream and sip his coffee brandy in peace? I nodded and proceeded to collect my things as we both silently acknowledged the unspoken unpleasantness of two humans having to interact over the stupidness of asking a seated to person to move based on a policy that wasn’t really intended to make anyone the winner.

Moving on, I get up, leave my less than gracious tip on the table, and begin to walk down the little strip lined with small café tables for two. Up ahead I spot the women I had noticed earlier; she has dark brown hair and glasses. She has a plate with two halves of a grapefruit and carefully cutting into it. I slow my walk just a little because I’m entranced with how careful she handles this fruit. It has encapsulated her entire universe. She cuts each individual triangle inside, so the juicy nectar separates from the skin. Her focus was unbreakable, and she was smiling. I don’t know if she noticed me, but I thought even if there was the slightest chance, she smiled at me, I want to know more.

I break out of my pattern of walking straight like a normal human and decide to be different today. It’s almost like when you see yourself doing something in your mind but decide against it at the last moment and watch as the moment you thought about acting on slips away. But instead of watching the moment slip away as I would have walked past her and continued with my day, I stepped into that version of me that I like to envision; the confident, chance taking, and bold me.

But like every leap of faith, suddenly your caught in the moment when it is all up to you to act.

“Mind if I sit here.” I gesture to the chair opposite her.
“Actually, I do, my boyfriend will be coming out of the café soon and this seat is for him.”

“What if I can make it worth your while.” I even get a little surprised by my boldness, but I press on.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I think you are gorgeous and that you ought to be with me.”

“Well, I’m flattered but I think it’s best you leave now, I don’t know who you think you are but I’m not the type of girl to leave my boyfriend, whom, I love, thank you very much, alone at a café as I saunter off with some dick of a stranger.”

“Dick? Stranger? In love?”

“What?” she retorts.

“Well, isn’t that just a fucking fairy tale you’re living now.” I raise my voice so other tables can clearly hear.

“She’s in love with her boyfriend!” I exclaim.  “I’m a dick everyone. I am a stranger just trying to make conversation and now I’m the dick. Isn’t that just how life works now?” With each word my voice grew louder, and you know what, I kind of liked the power that came with it. I felt it rise like a bubble of pure courage.

“Please leave me alone…Tony?” She shouts what I assume to be her boyfriends name and within a matter of seconds, he appears in the doorway like a good dog, ready to take his bitch’s orders. What a twat.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

“This guy, this guy, “Excuse me, can I help you?” I mock him.

“What’s your problem asshole. I think you should leave. You’re bothering my girlfriend and all these people here.”

“I’m bothering them?” I’m now shouting, and I feel myself being carried off by the liquid concoction within my blood. The taste of it was still on my mouth. I’m suddenly reminded of the strange look the waitress gave me for pouring brandy into my coffee at 10am on Sunday. And the following concerned looks as she served me 3 more coffees that I proceeded replicate.  

And now another character appears. This time a small older woman wearing an apron. She gives me a look like I killed her dog and spits a “leave now or I’m calling the cops,” in my direction.

I laugh at her. Like I really laugh. I lose my fucking shit at this lady. She has said the funniest thing I have ever heard in my entire pathetic life. Call the cops? On me? I’m the bad guy? I’m the guy the cops will come for? Yes, that’s me now. That is where this obnoxious Sunday morning story is going.

“I’ll go to jail right? Lock me up muffin? Tie me up like a fucking dog in the dog house.” The anger is rising and now I feel I’m the star. I look around and all the eyes are on me. Look ma, I’m the hero! I’m the main character! I’m in the foreground with the lens of the camera right on my stupid unlovable face.

Without a word I see her turn right back around as she pulls out a phone and dials what I assume to be the police officers of this town. That will come to make more of scene for me and you know what? Maybe I’ll end up on tv. Maybe I’ll be the buzz of the town? All the tabloids will be looking for me? Maybe I’ll meet Orpah? But no. No. no. no. I haven’t even given them a show yet. I’ll give them a show to see. I’ll be the movie star they want me to be.

The boyfriend is now in my face. Does he want a kiss? Maybe that will get her the brown hair girl to hand me her other halve of her fruit and we will run off into the sunset.

So, you know what. I will kiss him. I lean in and plop one right on this short haired, average looking face. His eyes widen and then guess what? I beat him to the punch line of this joke. I pull away and become the star. I wind back. Clench my fist and swing with my full body weight and watch as my left fist collides with his jaw as his stary eyed stunned face takes the impact of my bones. It clears him right across the face and there he goes! Right on down to the ground! Just as planned. Wow, what an exhilaration that was! I don’t even feel my fist now. Have I become invincible?  I think I might be.

I look around and soak in the gasps I hear from all the other café characters. It’s like their eyes have given me power. I am seen! I look down now at the girl that start this all and she’s horrified? Horrified? She screams at me, “you monster, what the fuck was that?”

A guy from another table gets up and starts to walk in my direction. He seems like the villain. He’s got big muscles and look of pure anger. But I won’t let him stop me. I dash into the café, kicking Mr. boyfriend on the way in, just for good pleasure. I look at all the employees now cowering behind the counter and you know what? I want a bagel.

“How much for a toasted bagel with cream cheese?” I shout in their general direction.

They are motionless. Mr. Villain is now getting closer and I turn and lock the door. Better keep the villain at bay and rejoice in my little victory for a little longer. I deserve the bagel of a king.

“You going to serve me or what? I’ve got the monnnney?” I take out my wallet and toss all the bills around on the floor; 1’s 5’s, 10’s, and 20’s, around $84 of pure hard-earned work just fluttering the ground. Look at all the business I’m trying to give them. I look up again and no one has moved. A few of the employees have now gone into the backroom. Fine I will get one myself.

I struck right over to the counter and hop on over. A hero can do what he wants right? I slide open the bagel drawer and try to find the perfect one. I toss them all out and find it to be fun. Plain? Nah, they can all go. Everything? They can all go too. Cinnamon raisin? That’s my shit. I don’t care anymore I just want to sink my teeth into a bagel.

“Sir get out of the café right this fucking second” Well that was a deeper voice. I turn and am looking at a bigger guy, his got a bit a belly but his arms are definitely bigger than my head. He’s holding a big knife and I realized that I don’t like this. How is this fair, I don’t have a knife, and he does? Where’s the gentleman’s agreement here? If were about to engage in combat, I want even ground.

“Put down the knife” I say.

“You are in no position to make demands, asshole.”

Why do people keep using that word, “asshole?” I don’t like when it’s directed at me. People should really watch their word choice.  

“Why do you people keep saying that?” I retort.

“What, asshole?”

“Yep that’s the one?”

“Why don’t we talk about that when the cops arrive here. Sir you are drunk, and I suggest you sit down and be quiet.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

“I’m the guy with the big knife pointed at your throat.”

I did not happen to notice that in these past few seconds the man had gotten a lot closer and now there was a knife flirting with the idea of getting to know the insides of my throat. 

“Did you know that she is gone?” I look at him and squint.

“Who is gone?” the big guys respond.

“Her. She. The only one that matters. The fucking girl that I bet it all on. Sunset’s man. I was promised sunsets forever.”

I could feel the adrenaline slowly subsiding. My eyes were gaining focus once again and what I saw was not anger anymore but sympathy in his eyes.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Now where getting somewhere. Name’s Henry, you?”

“Joshua.”

“Now Joshua. Can you do something for me? Can you look around? Can you take in what has happened and where you are now?” He gestures to the bagel strew around at my feet and the gathering crowed outside the café.

A cold sweat starts to sink in and I look at him. A big man named Henry who’s not holding a knife at me now but still has a knife. I look at the bagels strewn around the floor all around me. I look outside and see a girl nursing a man on the ground. He’s moving, but slowly. I look at my knuckles and see they are red and a little swollen. I look at the faces of the café employees and see terror. Now I hear sirens in the distance. Sirens in the distance are usually never for you. But for someone else living another life. Sirens are the background noise of life that remind you that you are living. But instead of the sounds of fading away, they only grow louder this time.

I sit with my back against the wall and look at the vertical bars in front of me. Yeah, I know, I got what was coming to me. But don’t worry, I came out of the bagel place with my hands up. Henry wish me well and I apologized to the brown haired girl and her average faced looking boyfriend. They, uh, didn’t forgive me. But hey I tried right? Man, what a day it’s been. The cop that arrested me was named Jason. I didn’t like him very much.  He was a little rough with me, but I understood. I’m an intimidating guy, don’t wanna let me loose, ya know?

Through my little window, orange light of this godforsaken day casts its beams into my face and I’m reminded of this morning’s light. Back when a more composed me sipped orange juice at 6am after being up all-night waiting for a call back from her. I knew it wouldn’t come but I waited all the same. I’m afraid that she’ll never call back. But after this stunt I know that’s a fantasy. They keep telling me to sleep. I probably should. I did for a little while after they put in me in here, but like I need a proper goodnights sleep. I need some dreams of another life and maybe I shall get them.

The next morning, I awake and can’t remember shit. And oh look the officers were nice enough to provide me with some reading material for my undetermined stay in this cell. I shuffle over and pick it up and whatta ya? My boy Henry made the front page. He’s a hero they say.