The Last Begining

     Just a bit of flash fiction, take with water throughout the day and do not operate heavy machinery while under its influence.

     Well, if you must know, it began about fifteen years ago. There  was this one guy named Jim, I think you’ve met him. Anyway, he had a job just like everyone else, and, just like everybody body else, he hated it. I’ve told you about jobs, right? Good. But the important thing is the one of the main reasons he hated it was that he worked miles and miles away from where he lived, and he would get stuck in traffic every day as he was driving home. Have I told you about cars, and traffic, and all that? I thought so.
     Well like I said, he would get stuck every single day, he hated it, he hated it but he was convinced there was nothing he could do about it. Now, you don’t know him very well, but Jim is actually a really cool guy, really creative, you know? He plays the piano, I think you’ve heard him. So I guess he just couldn’t stand to be put in the same, stupid position as everybody else. And one day, he couldn’t take it any more.
     What he did was, he got out of his car. Right in the middle of the highway. I few people noticed, but I think the were too depressed to care. And he climbed onto the trunk of his car. This is all true, remember. And then, he jumped onto the hood of the car behind his. Must have given the guy inside a heart-attack. And then he ran up the windshield, over the roof, and onto the trunk, and then he jumped onto the hood of the car behind that one, and he just kept running. I don’t know where he wanted to go, I don’t think he knew himself. But then a funny thing happened.
     I was in one of the cars he ran over. And I actually got out and looked around. And I could see him running, over car after car. And somehow, I understood what he was doing. And I climbed onto my car, and ran after him. A few people started to see us coming by now, but they couldn’t stop us. And then a few more people started getting out and following us. One of them was Dylan’s dad, Mr. Starkey. And there was Susie’s mom and dad, except they hadn’t met yet. And Lyle’s mom, and Mary’s mom, and Mister Jackson, and a few others. We were the first. And then a few more people started following, and more, and more, until there were hundreds of people, charging east down the highway.
     And that was the beginning of how we got here. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. Go to sleep now.

Something

     I'm not really sure what to call this. I think I'll say it's a Prose Poem. For those of you who don't know, a prose poem is a work of literature written within the conventions of prose, but with sharing certain qualities with poetry. Think of it as poem written like a story. For more information, read the Wikipedia article here. And now, here is my feeble attempt at this little known form:

Something

During my years in the institution, to distract myself from the stupidity of the doctors, I began a search, a search motivated by pure curiosity: a search for the most frightening word in the English language, and on a wet day in a dim cell in a dark corner, I found it. The word is Something. Many of you may object, but I intend to dispel your doubts with a brief series of contexts, and you will see that I am right.


Last night I saw Something  at the window, but I'm not sure what it was.

The legends say that there is a cave high in the mountains, but none dare enter it, for they know that Something is waiting for them inside.

Now Tommy, don't go wandering in the woods again, because there's Something else wandering in them too.

Mommy, I can't sleep! There's Something under my bed!

Why does he always keep his basement door closed? I think he's hiding Something in there.

It's no mystery why we're afraid of the dark: because we're afraid there could be Something in it.

Sometimes I look at the stars and think it's amazing that the universe is so vast. But other times I shudder, feeling that feeling in my gut that there's Something out there.

Have you ever had the feeling that there's Something right behind you?