Jimothy's Stories

The Doctor

2008-06-24T17:02:59Z

He walked in, unnoticed by those in the waiting room. Their minds were on life and death, sickness and disease; far more important things than strangers milling about. He bled into the background without much effort.

Walking through the double doors, the flood of smells crashed a wave of memories. Each of these wards held his stories of being a doctor. Patients long past still seemed to speak from the walls. The mother who died giving birth, the police officer who had been shot, the poor child who was caught in the house fire. Those memories were still there, although they were slowly graying.

He approached the children’s ward. He had treated his own daughter in this same hospital, many years ago. Sadly with all his experience, with all the help from the nurses, he had been unable to save her. This was a bittersweet moment.

As a doctor, death scared him; as death, he took a strange pleasure in his job.

Graveyard

2008-06-24T00:08:58Z

The gray expanse before them fit their mood. No black, no white. The view was suffocating. Signs of past lives stood erect, marking the lonely homes of former loved ones. Totems built by the living, in hopes of atoning for broken relationships.

“I think it’s over here.”

They walked over, careful not to step on any graves. Neither were superstitious, nor did they believe in the children’s stories, but they still were cautious. They had been to far too many graveyards in the last month. When you’re around the dead so much, you begin to wonder if they really are.

It had been so long since they heard from her. They hadn’t talked since the fight. Neither one was willing to back down, to say sorry. The rift grew into an expanse only a death could cross.

Reading gravestones never became easier, no matter how many they saw.

Eventually, they came to what they were looking for.

“I wonder how it ended for her?”

It couldn’t have been too bad, she at least ended up in a grave.

Monkey Buisness

2008-03-24T23:32:30Z

“The monkeys told me I’d find you here…” I panned, not sure how to begin.

“Well, this is one of the few places I’m not usually bothered by apes,” she shot back.

She looked up from her glass and stared at me with her dark green eyes. Her hair was falling in her face now, but she didn’t seem to mind. It gave her an air of mystery, like she had something to hide.

“I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?” I stammered. I’ve never been comfortable meeting people in bars, even after a few drinks. My brother-in-law was in the mood for cruising, and decided he’d give me some pointers. So here I was thrust into an awkward conversation with a girl I’ve never seen before, and not exactly sure how to avoid making a fool of myself, or if it was too late.

“That depends,” she replied, “on what you’re drinking yourself.”

“Manhattan,” I said proudly, presenting my glass. “I’m not much of a beer person, and this is one of the few drinks an average bartender won’t mess up.”

“You just might have a chance…”

Is anybody there?

2008-03-23T02:30:12Z

There I was, poised in space, a disembodied eye, invisible,
incorporeal, seeing but not seen.

‘So, is this how it ends?’ I wondered. Am I to be lost wandering this universe, disconnected from everything, yet still tethered to whatever reality I formerly knew? This was beginning to remind me of a Sartre play. I just needed to find some other lost souls to reminisce with, at a Paris cafe.

I tried to move, with what I imagined would be a step. In life, the unconscious firing of neurons would have moved me forward. Apparently it wouldn’t anymore. I began to feel terribly claustrophobic. Was I trapped in this space? Was there a purpose to me being here? Am I to meet someone who’s to explain the significance of my life?

The quiet was unsettling. There was no sound of breathing, no sound of wind, no sound of city noises, nothing.

‘Is anybody there?’

No response.

Nothing.

‘Anyone?’

Lost Shoes

2008-03-23T01:15:57Z

Accidents are strange occurrences. Like snowflakes, no two are ever alike. They are beauty and mystery wrapped up in a coincidence. The story of this one starts on a sunny Easter morning.

The light streamed into the barracks, rousing him from a restless sleep. The images of a crucifixion were fresh in his mind, making peace an illusive condition. The violence and hate amalgamated with those actions were far to similar to what he saw in Afghanistan. Thankfully he had the day off today.

The sergeant rushed in, yelling to get up. He needed to be mission ready. Apparently, something suspicious was observed. The brass wanted everyone out on patrol. So much for a peaceful day.

His buddy, a corporal who he had been through high school with, had been injured the day before. They needed someone else in his LAV .

He prayed for peace as he took the LAV out of the base.
God have mercy on our, and their souls.

Why did he turn left, when he was ordered right?

No one knows where his shoes ended up.

Dreaming of things So Impossible [Music Challenge]

2008-03-19T01:29:57Z

Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep…
Man, I hate feeling so nervous. I haven’t seen her in three weeks. I seems so long, but not long enough to justify the butterflies. Just don’t keep staring at the sun, this is a long drive west, I need to keep my vision.

My hope is so high that your kiss might kill me, so won’t you kill me, so I die happy…
Why do I feel scared? This is stupid, I’m 19! I’m not a little boy with a school crush. Man, I don’t know if I’m going crazy, or if I’m in love.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury, or wear as jewelry, which ever you prefer…
Damn your high voice, Chris. I wish I could sing this stuff for her.

Listening to this song on repeat for 3 hours, I don’t know if its giving me courage, hope, or making me even more nervous. I’m almost there.

Awesome, she’s waiting outside for me.
And you kissed me like you meant it,
and I knew that you meant it,
that you meant it,
that you meant it,
and I knew that you meant it,
that you meant it

New Years Day [Music Challenge]

2008-03-18T23:19:12Z

All is quiet on New Year’s Day. January 1, 2023. Who could have guessed the changes that would have happened in the last year.
The News Paper Says martial law is keeping the peace now.
About 3 years ago, the Canadian government started selling off its water supplies to the US. They tried to tell us we’d have enough, but you knew better. You left for the protests.
Those protests, January 1, 2022.
I didn’t believe you, or at least I wasn’t willing to risk my life to argue with the Government. I guess that’s what I loved about you. You were so passionate, so committed. I was apathetic, jaded, calloused. I had given up before I ever started. I guess you must have seen me as a work in progress. Maybe I’m just a slow learner. But nothing changes on New Year’s Day.
If I just had your strength, your drive, your hope. I could begin again.
I will begin again. I’m coming after you. I won’t give up on you. I will be with you again. Everything can change on New Years Day.

This Story is Happy End [1980's Arcade Game Challenge]

2008-03-17T00:13:10Z

“This room is an illusion” played endlessly through poor Arthur’s mind. He felt everything, he even smelled the dank air, but had been warned it was all fake. But, it felt so real. Going ahead dauntlessly, he searched out the way forward. He couldn’t stop now, he needed to at least know what happened to Guinevere.
Stepping through the doors only led back into the same room, Arthur needed to look for another way out. Feeling around the walls, he came across a loose stone. Removing it carefully with his sword, he found a switch. Pressing it, a door opened where previously, there was wall.
Unfortunately, behind this new door, was the last creature he wanted to see… the Dark Lord, himself.
Making rapid progres [sic] towards his enemy, Arthur threw many lances and axes. The barrage caught Satan off guard, and he was felled quickly.
Guinevere, that beautiful lady, was waiting at the end of the throne room, with a message for Arthur.
“Congratulation. This story is happy end.”

Hot Butter and Ice don't mix [1980's Arcade Game Challenge]

2008-03-16T23:53:20Z

“That’s It!” exclaimed Professor Pengo.
“That’s how we can stop global warming!”
The professor had been studying climate change for many years, up close in his native Antarctic climate. The changes were becoming more apparent, as he busied himself trying to find a way to reduce greenhouse gases. Now, the puzzle pieces (or diamond blocks, depending on how you looked at them) were coming together, all-the-while “Popcorn” by Hot Butter played on the radio, on an endless loop.
At that instant, a Sno-Bee came crashing through his igloo wall. Pengo ran quickly, knowing his research was safe where it was, but he wasn’t. If he could just get to that electric fence, he would be safe. The professor ran as fast as his stubby flippers could move. He blasted through his wall, making a daring escape. The Sno-Bees of big business had been trying to stop him for years, but had yet to find him.
At least now, a solution was in sight. Now, the struggle would be to implement it before all the ice blocks were gone.

The Case of the Missing Loafers [1980's Arcade Game Challenge]

2008-03-16T23:31:35Z

Master chef Pierre Pepper began his rigorous morning preparations: chop lettuce, slice tomatoes, prepare buns for toasting, and clean his penny loafers. It was his special shoes that made all the difference. No ordinary footwear would do. Over the years, he had tried everything, from Chuck Taylors to Air Jordans to Reebok Pumps. Each added their own zest, but everything else paled in comparison to the spice added from walking on the burgers with his loafers. Pierre had never told anyone about this secret ingredient.

“Where are my loafers,” though Mr. Pepper.
“I thought I left them where I always do, behind the deep-fryer.”
Yet, they were nowhere to be seen.
Pierre, began to worry. The Burger-Time was to open in one hour. He frantically ran around the restaurant, searching every nook and cranny, climbing every ladder, but they were nowhere to be found.
“Who could have taken them? Mr. Egg? Mr. Hotdog? Mr. Pickle?”
Who ever it was, he’d need to figure it out soon… Or consider a career change…

Time - Forwards or Backwards?

2008-03-15T21:05:52Z

Time.
It gets the best of us. It waits for no man, or woman. We notice when there is too much of it, and are saddened by its passing, realizing we never really had enough. We journey forward, all along we are walking beside it, and yet, never really see it. We never understand it, it just is, and yet it defines our existence, or at least the way we experience it.
Yet, I think its a blessing, to be always going forward. I could not imagine walking backwards along through life, experiencing life in constant rewind, losing our experiences, our wisdom as we live. And yet, sadly that is some peoples reality. Alzheimer’s, is much like this; the slow erosion of who you have become, by slowly erasing all that you know. That knitting stitch you learned yesterday, that funeral of your brother that left you crippled with grief, that song that you fell in love to; all gone. From diapers you came, and from diapers you will return. This journey ends at the beginning.
I wonder, could that be hell?

The Window

2008-03-10T23:37:23Z

The tendrils of smoke crept under the door, as I began to sense something was amiss. Remembering my Grade 2 fire safety class, I gently touched the doorknob with the back of my hand. It was hot. Very hot.
“She couldn’t have…” I quietly said to myself.
“She wouldn’t have…”
I had no time to dwell on inchoate thoughts. I needed to focus on survival. If I got out, I could figure things out later. If I didn’t, it didn’t matter.
Fear spread through my mind as I tried to take account of the situation. Dropping to the floor, I wormed my way toward the window. It was a tiny window, in a cheerless room. The room was empty now, and soon this house would be too. If I had enough time to remove the window frame, I would be able to squeeze out. I just needed to find a screwdriver.

What is real

2008-02-28T02:15:59Z

It’s an amazing experience coming inside on a bright, cold, sunny day. Outside, everything is monochromatic, white on white, snow covering the ground, salt covering cars. It all feels alive, somehow more real. The cold bites into you, the sunshine makes you squint. You feel everything.
But then coming back into the office, before your eyes can adjust, everything is off. All the colours are muted, like a sepia photograph, or a TV that’s about to die. The prickly sensation in your limbs starts to disappear, you feel nothing again.
For a few moments it’s not real, at least not like it was outside. Slowly, it all dissipates, and it’s back to “real life”.

Youthful courage

2008-02-25T23:49:36Z

“Hey man, I’ve got a great idea! This will be the bomb. “

“What is it?”

“Let’s climb up to the roof, and we’ll try to jump to the girls dorm. It’s only a short gap. That should be easy to get across. That way, security won’t know we’ve come in. I know Cindy would love to ‘see’ me right now, if you know what I mean, man.”

“Ha, ya. I could go and hang out with Meaghan, or Sarah, while you do your ‘seeing’.”

Oh, the stupid things we convince ourselves are perfectly logical, under the influence of alcohol. John often had “great” ideas while drinking. He was a regular bar-stool philosopher. Unfortunately, I was his disciple. If he thought it was good, I would go along. Who was I to disagree with my older cousin?

As we staggered up the stairs, in our drunken stupor, I could feel bile rising in my throat.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Totally, man!”

I stood on the edge of the building looking down, and the alcohol induced vertigo. It’s not that far across, I thought. John made it.

The people you meet on the street.

2008-02-18T00:00:51Z

“Please tell me again, Sir, how you lost your wallet?”
“So I was headin’ out for lunch. See, it was noon-time, and I was hungry-like. I had a hankerin’ for pizza. I’m walking down King street, and all of a sudden there’s no traffic. Now, this is King, you know, the main street here. Seeing no traffic, heck, it’s like it was the Doldrums, or sumthin’. I realize, Self, you aren’t going to get this chance often, so I goes. I’m jaywalking across King, and it feels so free. Like a bird or somethin’. I get across, just as traffic is pickin’ up again. It was strange. A cavalcade of Hummers were coming. I’m looking down the street noticing this, and some kleptomaniac freak walks into me. I know it was him, ‘cause when I got to the pizza shop, my wallet was gone.”
“Thanks Sir. We got your description. We’ll look into it.”