captainduh

Russell K. Clark.

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 07:32:10 GMT

For once the goddamn house was completely silent, something that should have unnerved Mr. Clark if he wasn't so tired from his thankless job. But really, who wasn't tired from their thankless job? Who could honestly say they came home after a peaceful day at work to a quiet household where their lovely children and doting wife were all waiting patiently with no qualms or requests? Bullshit. Mr. Clark knew better. He knew better than to expect any level of joy to grace his life ever again. And he could care less. Joy didn't make him money. But, then again, his job hardly did either. Mr. Clark worked in a factory. Just like every other poor bastard in this damn country. And just like every other poor bastard, Mr. Clark toiled away in the factory making just barely enough to keep his family fed and a (somewhat shabby) roof over their heads, and more than enough to provoke complaints from his nagging wife who was disappointed that her life didn't turn out quite how she wished it would. She probably had thought that she'd marry a rich and successful man. Well, Mr. Clark thought he'd marry an eternal beauty, but he certainly didn't get that wish. After five children and years of life as a petty and insignificant housewife, Mrs. Clark had let herself go. Not that Mr. Clark cared. Marriage was a sure end to any excitement having to do with the opposite sex. Mrs. Clark was completely disenchanting, just like every other factory worker's wife. But she sure could cook up some good bacon, and that was all Mr. Clark required in order to start each tedious and repetitive day. And when he came home, all he required of Mrs. Clark was that she keep the children at bay while they clambered for his attention which he seldom had to give. Mr. Clark had been numb to the world for the past few decades of his life. Since he graduated college. Since he married his once-upon-a-time "dream girl". Since his life ended and his adulthood began.
Mr. Clark only noticed the eerie silence when he sat down at the kitchen table and picked up the newspaper he had been reading when he first got up at some godforsaken hour to go to his godforsaken job. There was no mug of steaming coffee waiting by his newspaper. Mr. Clark was momentarily shaken from his emotionless state as he glanced up and looked about the kitchen. The goddamn coffee maker wasn't even on.
"Ann" called Mr. Clark gruffly. No response. No movement. Now somewhat perplexed, he called once again, "Ann, make me some goddamn coffee!"
Silence.
"Must have taken the damn kids to the store," he mused allowed, grunting as he straightened his newspaper again. Mr. Clark sat there at the kitchen table, reading his newspaper, until there was nothing remotely digestible to entertain even one iota of his uncaffeinated brain. But even then he continued to sit there, half-heartedly skimming over gloomy obituaries and frivolous editorials until his eyes ached and his back hurt from hunching. He put down the newspaper and got up from the table, standing awkwardly and looking about him as if he expected his wife to materialize with that damn cup of coffee he so badly needed. It had been an hour. He was tired of waiting around.
Mr. Clark walked stiffly into the sitting room, turning around in a full circle with a tense and somewhat confused look on his face, as if he wasn't quite sure where he was. The cogs in his mind that had been still and rusty for so long finally turned as the monotony of his days was slowly but surely being thrown off kilter. Something was not right about this empty house. It didn't feel empty like it did on the rare occasions when Ann and the kids were off somewhere and he had the house to himself for one goddamn minute. It felt empty, like his deteriorating mother who didn't recognize him any more.
A white envelope was sitting neatly on the coffee table, graceful cursive writing depicting the name "Russell". Mr. Clark picked it up and stared at it. Just stood there, in his plain living room with the new television set and the curtains that clashed with the carpet, and stared. Ann had never written him any kind of letter, not even a note. However, this was clearly her handwriting that had printed his name of this immaculately white envelope. Grunting, Mr. Clark ripped it open, yanked out the letter, and threw the envelope on the ground. There, on a piece of the lavender-scented stationary their oldest daughter had bought for Mrs. Clark last Christmas, were several words printed just as neatly as his name on the envelope:
"You're not the man you wanted to be"
Mr. Clark stared at the paper without blinking until his eyes began to water. He blinked once, then turned his head to look out the window. The car was gone. He turned to look at his bedroom. Through the open door he could see his wife's dresser was bare and all the drawers had been left open at odd angles, empty. He turned slightly to see that one of the kids' bedroom door was open and that was all he needed before his eyes jerked back to the empty driveway again. He stared out the sitting room window at that empty driveway for a good five minutes before turning around and heading back to the kitchen and making himself a cup of coffee.

-WIP-

The Boyfriend List (inspired by the book of that title, only not entirely male)

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 23:03:51 GMT

Max: We shared a nanny because our parents were good friends. He was probably my first real friend, maybe even my first best friend. By the time I was old enough to even think boys were cute, we hardly ever saw each other. I sometimes wondered about him in a crush sort of way, but hardly ever and it died fast. It was only because he was the boy I knew the best at the point.

Red: I call him that because I can't really remember his name now. Maybe it was Max too. But his favorite color was red, which I thought was weird because to me that was the sort of color a girl would like. He was my first preschool crush. We played together sometimes and were friends for a bit. I can't remember why we stopped being friends.

Nick: We met at my preschool and actually went to school together until sophomore year when he didn't return. He was never that cute actually, but in preschool I thought he was one of the most decent of the boys there. However, one time I walked into the bathroom while he was in there and saw him. After that I was too embarrassed and I stopped crushing on him right away.

David: I met him in kindergarten and for some reason decide I liked him. One day I chased him around the playground trying to kiss him. I was unsuccessful, so I pinned him to a wall after recess and kissed him. He acted disgusted and ran away, but from then on through first grade we had a somewhat unspoken thing that everyone knew about. We would sit next to each other when we had the chance and give each other these looks all the time. I think we might have even secretly held hands behind a pillow one time. But then he didn't come back for second grade and that was the end of it.

Montlake: I don't remember the kid's name, but I met him at a Montlake daycare I went to for a few summers. For some reason the details are very vague to me, but I do know I liked him and he didn't completely reject me. We sorta had a thing one summer. We would always sarcastically flirt when we were close to each other, and one time we even play wrestled in a big pile of mats on the loft. Maybe he kissed me on the cheek, I'm not sure, be we definitely hugged. But then suddenly it was rumored he had a thing with this other girl. One day someone told me they were in the loft kissing, so I went up there. They told me to get out, but I told them they had to share. So they said I could stay if I stayed in the corner and didn't face their direction. My pride was wounded so I said fine, and did just that. Needless to say it was incredibly awkward and I left after about a minute. I didn't know why the boy had stopped liking me, but I think that was the first real and huge bought of self-consciousness I experienced because the girl was so pretty.

Nick #2: This guy was a total jerk. He was extremely perverted for his age too. I couldn't even drink out of my water bottle without him making some reference to a blowjob. But for some reason I sorta secretly liked him. Maybe because he seemed advanced in the boy-girl department. I don't know. The pervy attention made me feel good sometimes. I got over it the next year when I finally realized he was just a plain old gross jerk

Luke: Look was probably the first boy I found insanely attractive. He was the cutest boy to me for a long time, years. He had a beautiful singing voice to top off the good looks. He was also quite popular so I had no chance. Because of this, whenever he talked to me I was always sarcastic or rude or generally a babbling idiot. He teased me all the time, and I teased him back. I wished it was because he secretly liked me, but I'm sure it was because I was quite unpopular and he thought it was funny and so did his friends. He also knew I react to it because I always did, though he didn't know that was because I liked him. I still wish I'd had a shot at him to this day.

Sydney: Syd was my first official boyfriend. We met at a different summer daycare I went to when I got older up in Phinney Ridge. He was part of this group of kids I hung out with. For some reason or another there were rumors that we liked each other or were dating or something like that. We talked about it and agreed we didn't care and wouldn't let the drama get to us. But then sometime later, his sister message me online through one of his accounts and started talking about how he liked me and we should go out. So I agreed to go out with Syd. We went to Jack N' The Box with his mom and she dropped us off at the movie. We watched it and I think he might have put his arm around me but that was it (we were like 12) and then his mom dropped me off at home. After that we became official and he would call me just about every night to talk, or he'd email me. I think I was a little overwhelmed by the attention (in retrospect, it was nice that he talked to me so much and I overreacted) and I didn't really know what I was doing, so I dumped him. By email. At the time I didn't know that that was a pretty rude way to dump someone. He also wasn't that attractive and had a weird mohawk and I was shallow about it.

Johnny: Johnny was my first kiss. My first kiss story is one I'm proud of and love to tell people. I was in Rome as part of a choir trip/tour through France and Italy. We were staying in a hotel, and so was Johnny. He was from Florida, but I forget why he was in Rome now. I met him when I heard some racket going on out in the hall. I opened my door and looked down the hallway to see him chatting up a couple rooms full of seventh graders (I was in eighth grade). I just laughed at them, rolled my eyes, and shut my door. Moments later there was a knock on my door. It was the boy, he told me his name was Johnny and I introduced myself. He hung out in my room with me and my roommate (who had been my best friend up until seventh grade but sometimes we still pretended we were friends) just goofing around, until he told me he had to go. My roommate was in the bathroom, so I walked with him to the door. He stopped and turned to me to say goodnight and that he'd had fun, and I said the same. Then suddenly, he kissed me. We made out for a bit until my friend came out of the bathroom and was pretty surprised. So he finally left and then my roommate told some people who told other people and so on. Also, the same guy later kissed a kinda-friend of mine which pissed me off but I let it go. The next day everyone was talking about it and teasing me since I was kinda a loser. I think there was even a rumor that I'd swiped my V-card that night. It was kinda ridiculous.

Colin: We knew each other from class and one day he invited me over to his house. We spent the whole afternoon flirting and acting all couple-y. Then we lied on his bed and cuddled, and suddenly we began to make out. He was pretty bad at it (he says I was a bad kisser; I wasn't that experienced but he should take some credit for his lack of skill) so I stopped early. I asked him if this meant I was his girlfriend, and he said sure. In retrospect I think I rushed him into the relationship, because only two weeks later he broke up with me. I tried to make it mutual because I didn't really like the relationship either, but deep down I was a little hurt simply because the relationship had been so short. He's still my friend to this day, and lately people think we're getting back together because we're such good friends. I could never, I'm not attracted to him at all.

-to be finished later-