Tag Archives: writing

Feedback

Rob

note the smug, arrogant look, never mind about the glassy, half open eyes.

I started this blog about three weeks ago. Is there anyone on here who is able to give honest feedback on my posts? My writings sound good to me, but that is just ego. I need some real criticisms on my writings. So please, all Grammar Nazis, English Teachers, People that are on the same level as myself (although I don’t really know what that is), alcoholic, washed up writers (who happen to be my favorite). Even those wonderful, egocentric writers who loving nothing more than to bash amateur neophytes, like myself. Please feel free to comment on anything. I am looking forward to it.


The Payback

A light mist of rain began to fall. Victor Mazurich watched solemnly as they lowered the small coffin into the freshly dug grave. Victor has been coming here for the past few years to pay his respects to his wife Alexis. His son Arthur would be spending eternity next to his mother. In the last five years, Victor had lost his family; his wife to cancer and his son to a freak accident while playing with a school friend. Arthur fell or was pushed he hit his head on the ground; he lingered in a coma for three days before he finally died. The police ruled it an accident.

As the preacher finished the prayer, Victor place a small flower on his son’s casket and said a prayer. Victor waited until the casket was completely in the ground before he quietly turned and walked away. As Victor approached the car, his chauffeur/body guard opened the door for him. Victor slid into the back seat of the limousine.

Daniel Reese did not go to school today. His mother, Natalie, wanted to keep him home for a few days, until the shock of the events wore off. She wasn’t sure if she should send flowers to Victor Mazurich; there wasn’t exactly a protocol for this sort of thing. The last time Natalie saw Victor was at the official hearing to determine if it was an accident or foul play.

The day of the court hearing, Daniel told his side of the story; how they were horsing around when Arthur fell backwards and hit his head. The court accepted the story and ruled it an accident. Natalie tried to talk to Victor, to tell him how sorry she was. Victor just stared at her with his dark emotionless eyes. A chill ran down Natalie’s spine. She was afraid.

Life for the Reeses’ slowly moved forward. Three weeks had gone by; Daniel was back at school, trying to cope with what had happened. Daniel spent one hour a week seeing a counselor that the school had provided. Natalie too, was dealing with everything the best way she could. She had been raising Daniel on her own ever since her husband left. She did the best she could. Maybe it wasn’t good enough?

One day while Natalie was home, she was startled by a sharp knock at the door. She walked to the door, looking out through the pane of glass, her heart nearly stopped. Victor Mazurich was standing looking back at her with those same dark eyes. She cautiously opened the door; “Hello Mr. Mazurich.”  She said her voice trembling.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Reese.” Victor replied. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Uh, sure, please come in.” Natalie opened the door to allow Victor into her home. He was a tall man, well over six feet. He was dressed impeccably. Victor Mazurich was an imposing figure.

“Can I get you something to drink?” “Coffee, soda, anything?”

“No thank you Mrs. Reese.”

“Please, have a seat Mr. Mazurich; I did not get a chance to tell you how sorry I am about all of this.” “If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”

“I appreciate your sentiment Mrs. Reese.” Victor said as he sat down on the couch. “But I doubt you will be able to bring my son back to me.”

“No, Mr. Mazurich.” “I can’t do that no matter how much I want to.”

“By the way, how is Daniel doing?”

“He is dealing with everything the best he can, he is seeing a counselor at school.” “Although I don’t know how much good it is doing him.”

“Guilt is a terrible burden for anyone to bear, especially children.”

“Please understand Mr. Mazurich, it was an accident.”

“Yes Mrs. Reese, I am aware of the court’s ruling.”

Victor sat silently for a moment before asking; “How old are you Mrs. Reese?”

The question caught Natalie off guard, she quickly composed herself and said; “I am thirty three.”

“How serious are you about you making this right?”

“I am not sure; I guess whatever is in my power to do so.”

“Well I have a proposition for you, Mrs. Reese.”

“What would that be?”

“Give me a child.”

“Excuse me!?” Natalie said. “I am not giving you Daniel.”

“I do not want Daniel, I want you to have my child.”

Natalie legs went weak. Was he serious? Was this some kind of sick game? “What do you mean you want me to have your child?”

“It’s simple Mrs. Reese.” “You will have my child.”

“Mr. Mazurich, this is insane.” “I can’t do it.”

“No, Mrs. Reese, insanity is having to live everyday knowing your child was taken away from you.”

“Mr. Mazurich, I am very, very sorry for what happened to Arthur, but you can’t expect me to have your child.”

“Mrs. Reese, let me put this plainly and simply.” “You will have my child.”  “I know several good fertility doctors.”  “Sex will not be required.” “I will pay for everything, from insemination, through the pregnancy until the birth.” “Once the child is born, you will give it to me and that will be the last time you will ever hear from us.” “If you do not agree to this, you will never see Daniel again.” “You have twenty four hours to think about it.”


Homeless Man and A Pigeon

I saw a homeless man punch a pigeon today. What would make someone angry enough to strike out at a bird? Were they fighting over the same scrap of food? Was the pigeon encroaching on the homeless man’s territory? Shouldn’t they get along considering they have to co-exist? Do they not rely on the same food source? The discarded leftovers of the populace at large?
It was one of those rare moments when I was angry, sad and laughing at the same time. But one thing it made me feel most, was complete indifference to the homeless man and his station in life. I also came to the realization that I would feed a bird before I would feed a homeless person.
It is my only hope that the pigeon will gather all of his friends, fly en masse, and shit all over him.
By the way, isn’t getting shit on by a bird considered good luck?


Another Senseless Blog

I am writing this blog with no idea on what to write about. Whenever I try to write about even the smallest thing, I feel the urge to put in so many details that something like walking down the street turns into a goddamn novella. Is it my ego? Am I afraid that if I do not extend a simple story int an epic that I may come across as inept or amateurish? I guess walking down the street is just that…walking down the street.


Sunday Morning

If you wake up in the morning and realized that you did not finish that last glass of scotch, DO NOT throw it away, it goes very well with your morning coffee, and it is not a bad way to start your day either. Sundays are special. It is the only day I can ease into. I have my coffee (see above), play some music, contemplate all of the events from the previous week (good and bad), and if all goes well, get some writing done.


Bucket List

1. Spend one night in a pyramid in Egypt

2. Piss on the great wall of China

3. Drink a bottle of the rarest single malt scotch ever made.

4. Visit Germany

5. Fuck a nun

6. Take a guitar lesson from Steve Vai

7. Finally understand ‘Ulysses’ by James Joyce

8. Read Plato’s ‘Republic’ two more times

9. Find out who my real father is.

10. Fall in love one more time.

to be continued…