Thursday, May 6, 2010

More from The Project

Those that have been watching me for a while know that I post little 'shorts,' things that can't even be called flash fiction because they're not even a page long. I have a collection of these that I've written over time for what I call The Project. I doubt anything will ever come of it. I feel the need to say again, these are not ME. These are characters. I hope you enjoy.


The dishwasher sings its song of labor and the cadence isn’t in rhythm to the notes that escape my speakers. Yet, somehow it is a lullaby in the background to the angry sound of someone else’s pain, and together they bring me comfort. Or at least as much comfort as anything can anymore. The gods know my bed brings me none.

I’ve walked to the freezer at least three score today, but walk back to my desk empty-handed. I randomly stick my head in there and rest it against the cold surface, hoping that there will be jolt to my brain that will end this fog that muddles me. So far, it’s a no go.

The cardboard lined contents within are less satisfying than the cigarette that hangs from my mouth, and I can’t get myself to sacrifice one for the other.

Besides, the smoldering stick has fewer calories and zero trans fat and I’m
watching my girlish figure these days, even though watching it doesn’t make it shrink. With any luck, cancer will consume my folds of cellulite and I’ll be a lighter carry to the grave. I wouldn’t want anyone to strain themselves on my account, after all. Especially since my pallbearers will be strangers and my grave not as shallow as I’d prefer.


My leg shakes in the nervous fidget that pissed my mom off when I was a kid, but even after all these years, I can’t abandon the need to keep the leg moving. It’s a representation of my racing thoughts and my body’s desire to get started on one of the zillion projects that stampede through my frenzied mind in a blink. Doctors try to call it Attention Deficit Disorder, but that’s because they’re two-dimensional in thought and depth. They don’t understand that I just see so much more than they do, and my poor human brain can’t keep up.

Just another limitation of this flesh. Something I’ve grown accustomed to, but still resent.

Who is God? He is who I blame when everything goes wrong, that entity that conspires against me and makes this world a dark and terrible place just so I have a harder day. Sometimes, I worry that I’m too self-involved. God is the one that is never there for me when I need him. God punishes me whether I am good or bad. God is who I beg to make the pain stop.

Oh, wait. That’s you. Are you my God?

Funny. I thought you’d be taller.

But your inability to apologize is no surprise. With each word you throw at me like a dagger, you pin me to the wall in my mind. Careful now, it’s crumbling around the edges of the holes your words leave behind when they are yanked back out with a kindness that drips with falsity. Could have, would have, should have, can’t.

This is what I think when I hear you say you love me.


Time stops when the page is empty
and sounds are mere echoes in my eyes
faces and places, all long forgotten
and happily so, until that song plays

Yellow bunnies and pink chickens
poisonous plants used for decoration
orange squash savaged and set alight
each a holiday memory long buried

And even now I hear cheerful tunes
ones that make me want to rip off my ears
times best held at a distance in my mind
lest I stab the next perky chum in the head

Or maybe just that bitch at the office
I’ve been wanting an excuse, after all.


Roland D. Yeomans said...

Whoa. These snippets are intense. Good but intense. Christi, are you going to join in the fun at Andrew's Bad Girl Blogfest?

I think you could write a dandy. I miss you when you don't visit. Silly I know. Have a healing weekend, Roland

Christi Goddard said...

Thanks, Roland. And I hadn't planned on doing the bad girl blogfest, but I'll give it another look when I get home from work.

I honestly didn't think you'd notice if I commented. I did this morning. It's just everyone always beats me and they say what I would have said so I just leave it. You know you're awesome. I miss when you don't comment, too, though.

Tara said...

I'm finally getting back around the bloggy world after an absence and was bummed to come here and find no bad girl post.

Then I read this...

You never disappoint, Christi. Awesome writing. And this:

"...even though watching it doesn't make it shrink."

Brilliant and LOL.

storyteller said...

Wow! I really like your stuff. It's hard to say so much with only a few words, but I think you pulled it off really well with these three stories. Thanks for posting them.

Roland D. Yeomans said...

Hi, Christi, this whole past month has been double duty for me as a blood courier with us being a worker down due to her maternity leave. That left me with more work, less sleep, and little free time to visit my blog friends.

Your work is artistic and intense. I wish I had a publishing house so that I could publish {myself, of course} but you and others I have found whose work is intriguing and compelling. Roland

Mia Hayson said...

OhMyGosh, whenever I read these I always feel humbled. Your little snippets are so real and intense! This writing always makes me go "whoa" (in a great way ;P)

From you're super fan Mia *hugs tightly*

P.s. I hope you know that I notice when you comment :~) I go all stalkery and start waving my arms around. Especially when you say I make you smile. That's one of my favourite thingsto go, make people smile (and also get freaked out, but mainly smile)

Have a great weekend!

Mia Hayson said...

Ermm... that should be "things to DO" not "go" *facepalm* I suck sometimes.

Anne Gallagher said...

SEE, what did I tell you! Of course I'm no better. There is a silver lining if you'd look. It isn't really grey.

Terry Towery said...

Um, where *are* you? I'm getting a little worried about you. What can I say? I worry sometimes. Deal with. ;)

Mia Hayson said...

Um, like Terry I am now TOTALLY worried about you. You haven't told me I'm weird in aaaaages and it makes me concerned *hugs* Are you ok?

Don't want to intrude and be all OMG IN YOUR FACE but I miss you and am allowed to worry because you're Christi and you're awesome.

Lisa Gail Green said...

Christi I love it! You should consider joining us in the undead poet's society

Tara said...

I've been back a few times looking for you, too! I miss your snips, your snark and your popping over to my place once in a while :)

Nishant said...

Awesome writing.
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