Tony Mannor's Stories

Coronation of Life

2008-05-10T21:17:31Z

The sun set hours ago, but it was still light. The fires crowned the surrounding hills. They burned as brightly as they had that morning.

The flames seemed to throb and ebb with each passing breeze, as if they were breathing, alive.

I could feel my throat begin to dry out. I looked to the kids who played against a large stone. They were wrestling and squealing in glee. They were oblivious to the coming danger. Maybe it was just their trust in me, their protector. Maybe they thought I had a plan to escape. I didn’t.

There was no way out. Even if we could reach the edge of the fires before being overwhelmed by the heat, there was not enough air to safely make it through.

I looked back at the small pile of berries and grains I was able to find. I collected them in hopes that we wouldn’t be hungry when our time finally came.

I pushed the food over to the children with my nose and smiled as they began to eat. I lay next to them and curled my tail around their little bodies and waited for it to come.

Once a cheater, always a cheater.

2008-05-10T05:37:58Z

Laurie piled the bed with clothes. “I can’t believe it. I thought I could trust you! You lied to my FACE !”

She turned to look at him, “You took everything from me! How could I ever trust you again?”

“Baby, I didn’t think you would get so mad. You know I love you. Please stop.”

“GO TO HELL !” Laurie grabbed the nail polish remover off of the bedroom dresser and in a swift, clean motion emptied the yellow, plastic bottle onto the mess of clothing covering the bed. She grabbed the lighter sitting next to her pack of cigarettes.

“BABY, NO! Don’t burn my stuff. I will make it up to you. Calm down.”

“What do you mean calm down? You SCREWED me! Two years of work down the tubes! My mother was right, you are a selfish bastard.” Laurie lit the lighter with a flick of her thumb and leaned toward the bed.

“WAIT! I am sorry I killed your level 50 druid. I’ll give you my level 65 Paladin, I swear. I’m not even playing W.O.W. anymore I just got GTA4 !

Laurie smiled, “Oh my God, I love you.”

Unreality

2008-05-10T00:09:43Z

He could remember when sex was hot.

Some young, small-time actress would be on set to spit out her line. He would slide up next to her at craft services and in minutes they would be in an empty set, fumbling in the dark. Hot breath and wet skin covering every inch of their furious entanglement.

Now, sex was comfortable, gentle, human contact. It came in the form of women who make up the backdrop of Hollywood Boulevard.

Felicia was no starlet but her skin glowed in the yellow streetlight that filtered through the fabric covering the window. She smiled as she used her body to make him feel human again.

Why did she care? Maybe he was the closest thing to a celebrity she had met. Who was she? Was she another Burbank casualty? Just another pretty girl who sold her soul on Hollywood Boulevard for “The Dream”?

Unexpectedly, his back and legs spasmed uncontrollably. She folded off of him smiling. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. You?” he tilted his head toward her. She passed him a cigarette and nodded, “For now.”

Real Death

2008-05-08T21:32:18Z

Gary pulled into the driveway of the coral colored, West Hollywood apartment building. The Crested Arms, affectionately referred to as The Crusty Arms by the heroin addicted prostitutes that used the rooms as their home-offices.

Gary sat in his car staring at the number eight stenciled on the back wall of his parking stall.

He pulled out a fifth of vodka from a paper sack. He tipped the sack over and let the six pink pawn tickets drift onto the cracked vinyl seat of his 86 Corrola. Those six tickets represented the last of his worldly possessions. He had sold it all. He had nothing left that they could take from him.

The tickets were all he had except his car, his vodka and the loaded 9mm pistol tucked in his waistband with the pawn shop sticker still on it.

He tilted back the bottle of vodka and let it slide past his tongue. The liquid heat washing away the copper taste of blood from his mouth.

He dropped the empty bottle onto the bare metal floorboard of the car and pulled out his gun.

It Moves From the Left

2008-05-08T08:29:41Z

His fingers deftly placed each shard of glass on to the round metal disc. He didn’t know the man who sat to his left, humming while shaving fingerprints off a severed left hand with a razor.

A woman, who sat to his right, smelled of tea and sweat, strung small teeth onto a length of wire.

His mirror was special. It gave a reflection of true self. His own reflection become clear as the parts of his puzzle fell into place.

The man next to him sat watching him complete the mirror. Finally, the fingers of his right hand placed the last piece into the center of the mirror.

In the mirror he saw a strong young man, full of life and opportunity. “Other hand. Now.” The man on the left said. He reached out his right hand and watched as the man on the left cut it off.

“You go to the end now.” The man told him.

He stood and walked by the woman on the right who was sitting next to a young girl sewing buttons.

She looked up and smiled at him. She was very young and pretty, but she had no teeth.