Thursday's 3 Word Wednesday

The word prompts over at 3WW are parallel, mysterious and bounce. Bone’s dad had some heart surgery, so we wish he and his dad well.
It’s been an interesting time around The Tension. This piece in no way speaks to anything in my own life, it is fiction, but certain stress and pressures have made the words hard to come by recently. And I hate that.

Eunuch

Life doesn’t bounce, it rolls.
He’s written this, in ink, down the left side of a legal pad – going on for several pages - during a meeting he wasn’t invited to, but stumbled upon anyway. And then felt too insecure to get up and leave.
No bounce, roll.
He’s tried to roll with things, but he’s having trouble seeing the Big Picture. That’s what his supervisor says, anyway.
“You’re unfocused.”
“Right.”
“Let’s see if we can’t get on the ball, here. What we do here isn’t all that mysterious. It’s numbers, period.”
“Right, you’re right. Thanks for the pep talk, just what I needed.”
All the while, he’s clenched his hands tight enough to open sliver-moon incisions into his palms.
During his 45-minute lunch – he’s paranoid enough to set his Tag Heuer Mictotimer watch so he’s not late – he walks the broken sidewalks with a bag of street vendor popcorn he won’t eat. He braves a few thoughts of a life without so much bauble, clutter, complications.
And that’s when he notices the guy across the street.
They walk in parallel strides, same speed, cadence of steps.
Where he’s dressed in a Vanetti four-button suit in sandstone completed with Kenneth Cole slip-ons, the guy across the street is in jeans and a Ramones T-shirt and red Converse Chuck Taylor hightops. His hair is longish and unkempt, and tumbles across his face from time to time to be brushed aside. A soft-side guitar case is slung across his back. He smiles, talks to everyone he comes across.
Our man in Vanetti has not a hair out of place; thick pomade secures every lock of hair to his head like a helmet. He makes it a practice to look at what he’s carrying, so as to avoid eye contact and thus any casual conversations.
Same speed, same cadence, they walk down opposite sides of the street.
Opposite sides of life.
They make eye contact. For a half-block, they eye one another, one suspicious, the other happily curious.
Near the graffiti-tagged bus stop, our man in Vanetti raises a manicured right hand, palm up, in salute. The other laughs, turns and jaywalks through midtown traffic to meet.
Our man in Vanetti is at once terrified - and terrifically excited.

7 comments:

pia said...

I thought the descriptions were excellent "our man in Vanetti" totally comes to life

When I'm under pressure I can't write fiction--though it's more fun than anything else--and I have been under a lot of it recently

Picking the words was fun--sometimes my sense of humor is so weird as to not come through at all

j.c. montgomery said...

I am intrigued by not only the reflection of possibility looking back, but reaching out a hand in acknowledgement...hmmmm

Sometimes creativity and expression are elusive, but given time they will come, and I think this piece alone demonstrates that quality is worth waiting for.

TC said...

Very interesting. I liked the two different descriptions.

tumblewords said...

Interesting!! Well worth the wait...

Uncle E said...

I quite liked this one.

Greyscale Territory said...

This would make a fantastic psychological study!

Gemma

gautami tripathy said...

This is interesting. Well worth the wait!

parallel plot