Stuck in Theatre

Henry Phillips felt the cold air move past his ears as he sat inside a movie theatre. He stared blankly at the white screen which had been removed of its myriad of colours. His hearing sensors grew stronger as the murmurs around him grew louder. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room and he could make out the silhouettes of the inhabitants of the movie house. He looked around at the assortment of figures. He looked at the two girls sitting at the bottom, who were giggling throughout the movie; at the couple sitting in front of him, two semi-bald men.  He could see a rather large family sitting a few rows down, still munching on their popcorn. They seemed oblivious to what had happened.  Henry whispered to his friend beside him, ‘What the hell?’ His friend responded, ‘What the fuck happened to the movie’ in a tone that everyone could hear. Everyone except Henry began booing loudly. This continued for at least a minute until they had realized that their disapproval was going unheard. A guy stood up near the front and headed for the exit. Nobody else moved. He disappeared down the hall and the sound of a door trying to be opened echoed up the steps. Banging followed and a yell. The banging continued as did the yelling. There was no response. There seemed to be a lifeless void filling the air as the crowd anticipated the door to be opened. The man returned and observed the wall of seats. He shrugged his shoulders and said the door was locked. One woman screamed, ‘What the hell is going on? Why would they lock the door during a movie?’ someone else mentioned, ‘In case you haven’t noticed the movie isn’t playing anymore.’ The woman replied, ‘No shit.’ Henry’s friend yelled, ‘Well what do we do now?’ One of the bald men in front of us turned and said, ‘I guess we wait until someone unlocks the door. Shouldn’t be too long. ‘

An hour passed. Nobody had moved and small talk only took place between friends or family. Not one person had made an outburst until one of the girls in the front yelled, ‘The movie would have been over ten minutes ago, maybe we should check the door again.’ The man in the front stood up to tend to his newly formed duty. Door checker. He walked down the hall and the familiar sound of a locked door paraded through the dead silence. The man came back and quietly returned to his seat without saying a word.

A few moments later, everybody left their seats and headed to the passageway that separated the very front seats from the regular seats. My friend said, ‘so what now?’ One of the girls began screaming. Her tone reverberated around the expansive room with shrills as high as a whistle. Her friend was dead. Nobody had noticed the dead girl lying on the dark carpeting with blood spilling from her torso.  Everybody joined the girl with a scream as they darted towards separate corners of the room. The screaming subsided and silence eerily took shape. A nervous patience filled the room. It was suddenly broken when a scream was heard from the corner containing the fat family. It appeared the mother had been killed. She was also lying dead on the carpet, her face mangled. Now everybody ran towards the exit; they converged like a group of pigs as their feeder placed food in their trough. They began banging and screaming at the door. It was no use. Henry Phillips took them one by one as he stared into their eyes and could feel their trepidation; this only fed his hunger as with each person he killed brutally. He killed everyone inside that movie house including his friend (who he never really liked anyway). He stepped over the bodies littering the hallway and knocked five times with two seconds in between each one. His uncle opened the door and said, ‘How was that?’ ‘Difficult at first, but after I took the first one, they all followed pretty easily.’ ‘It’s always hard at first, but you’ll get the hang of it in no time. You’ve got a real knack for this.’


First Impressions

When I first saw her standing over that man’s body I was awestruck. I had no idea what she had done or what she was about to do. All I knew is that she looked at peace. As if a quaint melody were playing over in her mind and she closed her eyes and swayed gently to it. I stood in the nearby tree line as I watched her try to push his body into the river. I raced towards her to prevent what was happening in front of me but I was too late. He fell from the earth and plunged into an icy cold world. The river was fast and carried him away. I reached the woman and used both my hands to grab hold of her. I swung her around. Our bodies were close and her eyes weren’t open. There was no emotion covering her face. I stared intently at her magnificent visage waiting for her to waken from a daze. I imagined she was in shock and that fear had overcome her body. I shook her gently and called ‘Miss, Miss.’ She slowly opened her eyes as if for the first time. Like as if she were just being born and was being thrown into this horrible world. I asked her if she knew what had happened. She nodded her head and watched her feet. She mumbled something but her voice was inaudible over the swirling gale that passed this time of year. I lifted her chin up with my forefinger and held her there. She smiled softly and said, “I’m free.” I put my coat over her body and rushed her to my car.

I took her to my place. She had fallen asleep in the car ride over so I put her in my bed. A few hours later she woke up and called out. I went to her and she asked me where she was. I told her she was in my bedroom and she looked confused. I explained to her what happened. She said nothing as I retold the story. When I finished she asked for a cigarette and I gave her one. She then told me of what she had done. The man was her husband. According to her he used to beat her and she had had enough. She found a gun in his study and shot him. I asked her how she got the body into the car and she told me her housekeeper helped her. After a brief period of silence and deep thought I left the room and put on a pot of coffee. I heard water running and presumed she was taking a shower. That was fine with me and I tried to think of what to do next.

She came into the room wearing my bathrobe as the coffee peaked. I poured her a cup and we talked some more. We stayed away from the horrendous event that preceded and talked about each other. We ended up talking for several hours. Time had flown by and I still felt as if I didn’t know anything about her or why she killed her husband. She became scared and worried that the police were probably looking for her. The words that next came from my mouth surprised even me. I told her she could stay here for a while; until the search had died down. They would never find her since we weren’t connected or anything. I was even more surprised when she agreed with the proposition.

After a few days we became close. We decided the best thing to do was to leave this town. We were going to run away together. I had never done anything as crazy as this before but I loved her. I would do anything for her and running away together was as easy as getting up in the morning.  We left town and never looked back.

Talk for Two

His mouth gave him signals that it was thirsty. His lips were dry and his tongue rough. He peered through the crowded plaza and spotted a café. He sat down at one of the chic tables outside. Eric watched the crowd flow as tourists danced around each other looking for the perfect shot from their expensive cameras. A waiter approached him and he asked for a coffee. Most of the tables were taken except for a few. A man was seated beside him who was reading the local paper. The man looked up and smiled at Eric.

‘Do you have a light?’ the man said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Eric pulled a box of matches from his pocket and set them on the man’s table. He smiled faintly at the man and continued admiring the views.

‘Where are you from?’ the man continued as he puffed on the cigarette.


‘Beautiful place, what brings you to Vienna?’

‘I had an aunt who lived here. She passed away not so long ago. I’d never been before so I took the opportunity. Have you been to Australia?’

‘When I was a young boy I ran away from home. I jumped on a cargo ship at the docks and it took me all the way to Perth. I joined the military there. I spent two years doing a duty for a country I didn’t belong too. They discovered who I was and I left.’

‘So what brings you to Vienna then?’

‘I’ve been here for four years now. I slowly make my way through Europe. For some reason I can’t leave this place though. It’s strange but I feel at home here.’ The waiter returned with coffee and placed it in front of Eric. The aroma was powerful. Eric picked up the small cup and took a refreshing sip. He could already feel the caffeine rejuvenating his tired body.

‘What’s your name?’ the man asked.

‘Eric, you?’


‘Nice to meet you Joseph. Do you work here in Vienna?’

‘I do odd jobs every once in a while, wash windows, clean gardens. I try to live a very simple life. I don’t like to be burdened by money and responsibilities. I believe that living a free life enables you to pursue whatever lies in your heart.’ Eric lightly chuckled.

‘I wish I had an attitude like yours. Money basically rules my life. I have a family to look after. I need that steady income coming in.’

‘You’re family is not with you?’

‘No, they are at home in Australia. I’m only here for a few days.’

‘How does it feel not being responsible for others?’

‘What do you mean?’ Eric asked as he sipped his coffee.

‘You are here; you are free from your responsibilities. You do not have to worry about money or anything like that. You can sit here like me, enjoy the view and drink a cup of coffee. Hell I could spend all day here and not care. Don’t you feel the same way?’

‘I guess so, I mean money is always in the back of my mind but it does feel nice just to sit here. I could definitely get used to something like that.’

‘So why don’t you?’

‘You mean just abandon my family and my job? I don’t think anyone could possibly do that.’

‘Why not? I did when I was a boy, I never even told my parents I was leaving.’ Eric was amazed at what Joseph was saying. He turned his body towards him.

‘You mean you just up and left? Without telling anyone? They must think you’re dead or something?’

‘I wrote them a letter when I arrived in Perth, they weren’t very happy with me but they respected my decision and I haven’t seen them since I left. We write back and forth occasionally and I suppose one day we will all meet up again, but until then, we are all living care-free lives.’ Eric was stunned. He couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything like that.

‘Okay, but I could never leave my family, not now, not like this. It wouldn’t be right.’ The old man extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.

‘Hey it’s your choice. If you wanted to have this kind of freedom, that is the kind of choice that you would have to make. You have burdened yourself with so much that it is hard for you to break free. It was easier for me when I was a boy because no one was depending on me. We both took a path but mine was slightly different from yours. Look at us now and what our lives have become. I am free and you are tied down. It isn’t too late though. You could still deviate from that path. Who knows what will happen.

Eric just stared at the man. He turned back towards the plaza and watched the tourists hurry through the crowded space. His mind was working overtime. How could he even consider Joseph’s advice?

They sat there together for the rest of the afternoon. They made small talk and played chess.

The End

It seemed time was in slow-motion. I had raised my hands to block the view of what was forthcoming. The screams evolved in a suppressed muffle as people ducked for cover under desks. The feeling of force as the gigantic crane swung a giant beam of steel in through the office windows. The building began shaking fervently as ceiling tiles came crashing down sending a conglomerate of what looked like snow cascading through the air. Electronics fizzed and water coolers exploded sending waves of water down onto the beige carpeting. The crane continued its swing as it carried men and women with it back out through the windows. I could hear their bellows as they plummeted to the ground. Somehow a fire began in the back corner and the flames began to spread as it made contact with the crashed ceiling tiles and wooden desks. The building was still swaying back and forth as people attempted to evacuate the torn structure. In a haze of disbelief and utter panic I followed the swarm of suited civilians out through the emergency exit towards a flight of stairs. We were twenty floors up but we didn’t seem to care. We ran for our lives while the echo of screams pulsated through our ears. A thought ran through my head that the entire building was going to collapse. The panic in my body grew and the adrenaline pumped throughout. I was on the verge of blacking out.

As I seemed to float down the myriad of stairs, my thoughts converged to that of Tina. She is my girlfriend who works on the 13th floor. I felt the need to find her and make sure she could exit the building. I watched the doors fly past me as I flowed down the steps and counted each floor. I hit the 13th and I swam to the exit. Someone grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away. I felt alarmed but I broke free from their grasp and opened the door. The office was empty. White sheets of paper covered the carpets and overturned desks were strewn throughout. No one was around, she must have gotten out. I had to check her corner office to make sure she wasn’t still in there. No sign of her. I ran back towards the exit when it happened. The building began its downfall. The screech of steel was tremendous. The grinding and snapping as girders broke free from their still life. The floor above me collapsed showering me in plaster and steel. I could only watch as my body became trapped beneath the rubble. I had a view out through the window and I could see the ground racing towards me. People were scattering for their lives but they had no chance. As the building got closer to the ground the rubble felt the force of gravity and slid towards the windows. I realized that a shard of steel was protruding through my leg. I hadn’t felt the pain and I didn’t care. Just before the building came one with the ground, everything slowed again. I closed my eyes and I could feel the wind brushing my hair. I felt alive. I felt scared. I thought of Tina and I hoped she was okay. I hoped she had gotten away safely. I thought of my parents and how much pain they would be put through. I opened my eyes and time sped up. Everything went silent.

A Daring Escape

Just get the idea down. Those were the exact words that flowed from his impertinent mouth. Right before I strangled him to death. Right before I watched the blood flow gently from the corner of that mouth. Right before his body collapsed to the floor with purple abrasions around his veined neck and the glass shards protruding from his balding scalp. It was the last time he ever pushed me. I hated him and I hated that building. Everybody was forcing me to do things. Swallow pills, paint leaves in the garden a blanched white, keep a daily journal, and worst of all, share a room with an incomprehensible roommate; a roommate who snored constantly. It didn’t take me long until I officially cracked. I felt the need to escape physically, not mentally as they were demanding. I believe that is their ultimate goal. Right above shoving pills down a person’s throat at least three times a day. They obviously feel the need to prove their superiority to everyone around and their mental stability.

I decided to make my break during English class. It took place every Thursday afternoon after lunch. I was sitting patiently at my desk staring promptly at the blank sheet of paper lying directly in front of me, if not a little to the left. I was waiting for the old man to arrive at my desk after storming the aisles in a manner derived from a military academy or something. He eventually arrived at my work station where his march came to a halt and his head took a turn to my clean sheet of paper. He swivelled on his heels and asked me politely why I had not written anything for my daily reflection. I did not answer. He repeated the question a little more bluntly. I turned my head in the opposite direction and watched as a yellow butterfly playfully flew through the midsummer air as it tried to fight the opposing wind currents in a little game of struggle. The old man began mumbling something; it may have been on the premise of my ineptitude of writing. I turned to him and his voice became clearer. His final words were, “Just get the idea down.” I stood up from my desk and wrapped my hands around his neck. His eyes bulged from his head and tiny blood vessels appeared among the white space. He gurgled a little and stumbled over Joseph’s desk. Joseph managed to escape from the confines of his wooded area and seemed to understand my intent. He grabbed a glass vase from an ornamental table and swung his hands in an arc through the English teacher’s head. The glass made contact with his skin and shattered immediately. His body slumped in my hands. I let go of his body and avoided his downfall to the linoleum. I made a dash for the door. Fortunately, the guards weren’t able to respond to my cat-like abilities as I pounced through their attempted grabs. I sprinted through the mopped halls and out into the courtyard. The fence was no match for me and I bounded it with ease.

I made it to this forest where I stumbled across you and your charismatic presence. I hope you liked my story Mr. Frog. I sure don’t want to go back there. I was hoping I could stay here with you. We’ll get along just fine.

The Boy with Alzheimer’s Disease

When you’re a boy with Alzheimer’s disease, life can be pretty difficult. Well one would imagine anyway. But not for the boy who lived on 52nd street. No one knew that this boy had been bestowed with memory loss because it was never apparent. He seemed like your average kid, going to school, playing sports, growing up fast. It was discovered one afternoon when he had fallen out of a tree and landed on his head. His mother rushed the boy to the hospital. The boy had been given a CT scan and the doctors gave a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease. The doctors said that he was born with it and was not obtained after his head collided with the ground. His mother cried for days and his father still never came home. About a week after the diagnosis, his mother stopped crying. The boy was showing no signs of forgetfulness and she never noticed anything before the accident. His mother became very curious about him. She began testing him. She made him walk home from school without her assistance. She made him make his sandwiches every evening for school the next day. She even quizzed him on his homework every night before he would go to sleep. The boy’s mother could find nothing wrong with the boy. She became very worried again. She cried and stayed awake all night. Then one day the boy didn’t come home from school. Usually a child’s mother would become very upset when her child didn’t return from school but not the boy with Alzheimer’s mother. She was ecstatic. Finally some proof that this boy really was sick. He had forgotten how to get home! Soon after the boy’s disappearance his mother started to worry. She called the school and they explained that everyone had left. She called the boy’s best friend’s mother. He was not there. The boy’s mother began crying and laughing simultaneously. She was bereaved that her son had not returned from school but she was excited because he really did have Alzheimer’s. The boy’s mother sat at her kitchen table chain smoking throughout the afternoon. At around five pm the boy casually strolled through the kitchen door. He swung his book bag around the chair and kissed his mother on the cheek. His mother didn’t say a word and the boy ran into the living room and turned on the television. His mother got up from the table and sat next to the little boy. She sat there for about five minutes before asking the boy where he had been. The boy simply replied he was at soccer tryouts. His mother began bursting out in tears. She screamed and drooled and her mascara covered her face in black shadows. She ran to her room and cried for an hour. The boy didn’t move from the couch. After the boy’s mother had stopped crying she stormed down the stairs, grabbed the boys hand and pulled him outside and into the car. She drove ferociously to the hospital. At the hospital she demanded that they take a look at her son. The doctors reluctantly agreed and gave him another CT scan. This time the boy had developed traces of Parkinson’s disease. A doctor turned towards the mother and said simply, “Sorry it’s a new machine. We’re still working out the kinks.”

Love Not Lost

I watch cautiously as her hands wander through the air. I watch as she places her fingers alongside the clay mug. She uses an ounce of strength through her tips as she lifts the cup towards her curved lips. I watch as she slowly opens the red gates of passion and rests the white mug against her bottom lip. She pours the hot liquid down her throat until it rests in her stomach. She wipes the froth from her upper lip and chuckles from embarrassment. She flicks her hair and looks up at me. Her cold hard eyes pierce mine. I try my best to return her stare but she always wins. I look away and watch the crowd. I watch the young men and women of our society sipping away at coffee and tea, eating Danishes and reading newspapers.  She reaches out and caresses my hand. With her forefinger she draws circles on the back of my hand. I watch as she makes figure eights and swirls. I tilt my head and look at her. Her gaze unchanged. Cold and hard. The corner of my lip curls into an attempt of showing emotion. She closes her eyes, longer than a blink but shorter than a while. I can smell her fragrance dancing across the table. It tangos passed the pastries and the hot drinks towards me. It brings back memories of love not lost but forgotten. Memories cherished in photo albums and in my heart. She suddenly stands and tells me she will be back. She withdraws a cigarette from her purse and exits the crowded room. I drop my head in dismay and relief. My breath escapes me in a hurry and I can breathe again. Fluid motions return to my arms and my head becomes a free-willed swivel. I feel loose and calm. I pull my head back into my spine before gazing out through the letter-stained window. I can watch her smoke her cigarette. Watch as she draws the smoke into her effervescent body. I watch as her body collapses as the smoke files out from her lungs. She too has become relaxed and free. The tensions in her shoulders are now with her aching feet. She could never get used to wearing heels. My mind slips into a daydream and I remember our fondest memory. In the summer at the shore, where we spent hours laying in the sand talking about nothing. Where we smiled at each other for what seemed like hours, but really were only seconds. The night we spent in the beach house. It was warm and filled with bugs but we couldn’t have felt happier. I watch now as she butts out her cigarette and returns to the coffee shop. She sits down and gives me a faint smile. I return the gesture but only out of reluctance. She pulls on envelope from her purse and slides it across the table. I look at it and then to her. She gives a reassuring nod and I slowly move my head from side to side. I pull the white sheets from inside the golden-yellow parchment. I take out my pen and apply my signature. An end to a dream, the final step in moving on. My eyes turn to hers. We lock in a stare and this time I win.