Culture Shock w/ Mike Schwartz's Stories

Dialouge overheard in a library

2008-04-11T23:57:49Z

“You’re talking to that guy?”

“Yeah we have a date tonight.”

“Have you seen him? I know that guy, we went out. He’s a total loser! You cannot go out with him!”

“OMG! Are you serious? What am I going to do?”

“Just don’t go.”

“What if he goes psycho?”

“He’s lame but he’s not creepy. He won’t hurt you are anything.”

“He keeps iming me. What do I say?”

“Just tell him you changed your mind.”

“Ok I told him my ex just asked to get back together with me and I’m going to.”

“Good one.”

“That was close. Thanks!”

“No problem!” That’s what he gets for never calling me back

Tuck Everlasting Alternate Ending

2008-04-01T14:25:38Z

Jesse kneeled down at the gravestone with Winnie’s name carved into it. He placed his hand on the old oak tree as he bowed his head in silence.

A screen door creaked, then he heard footsteps approaching on the porch. “She said you’d come back. What took you so long?” a beautiful voice called.

As he turned around he saw the breathtaking face of a girl just like Winnie. She looked about 16 and had a broad smile stretched across her face.

“Why don’t you come inside?” she offered. “I have some bottled water I think you’d be very interested in…”

You, Boy

2008-03-29T02:18:27Z

What if we were born in a different time?
When there was such a thing as love at first sight

I’d walk in and then
you’d smile
offer a drink and I’d think
I’m gonna marry
you, boy

What if we were a few years older?
Not have to wait so long

What if we were our first?
The past wouldn’t hurt so much

Your honest truth
makes me cry
thoughts of her
but I think I’ll still marry
you, boy

Why did I give you my whole heart?
There were pieces not mine to give

What spell did you use on me?
I couldn’t break it even if I wanted to to

You make me smile
and stay a while
my love forever
I think I’m gonna marry
you, boy

How did we come to this?
So sure of what we want

What if this is just my dream?
In the morning I wake up with you gone

What’s left if you leave me?
I can’t imagine life without you, alone

So quickly you became
my everything
I won’t let go
I know I’m gonna marry
you, boy

White Noise

2008-03-07T20:16:39Z

Marguerite won’t stop crying. I can feel her body shaking next to me. She doesn’t want me to hold her. She keeps pulling away.

John is shouting. His voice is getting mixed in with the others. So many new voices. Who are these people?

Someone said something about a gun. Marguerite keeps mumbling that we are going to die. I never imagined myself dying like this. Not even knowing it’s going to happen. Where is it going to come from?

I always just thought I’d die of old age. Not wake up one day. Eternal silence accompanying my eternal dark.

This is so much worse. Knowing it could happen at any second. But not from where or whom.

My legs are going weak. I try to take steps back, searching with my hands for anything to grip onto. I feel the wall meet my back as I slink down along it.

I feel so cold. Dark and cold. The buzzing in my head is blocking out all other sounds. I have no sense of what is going on around me. Dark and cold and silent.

Rash Decisions

2008-02-29T00:00:16Z

I stumbled backwards as Izzy dragged Marguerite out the door. “What is going on?” I hollered after them while trying to catch myself on whatever object I could grasp.

“Izzy, please! What has gotten into you?” Marguerite demanded. Already their voices were fading down the hall.

I had no clue what to do. I contemplated staying in my flat and waiting for their return but for once logical judgment escaped me. Instead I tried to quickly follow after them.

As I shuffled down the hallway, I made out the faint sound of their voices. Before I knew it my foot hit the abrupt edge of a step. The voices ascended up. Clutching the cool wall, I took each step slowly.

Right when I was sure the landing had to be just another step away, I heard the piercing scream of a woman.

Panic swept over me, as I lunged forward. Tracing my hand along the wall as I ran towards the commotion. Nothing stopped me until I ran straight into a hard surface that toppled over upon my impact.

“Pierre!” John’s voice gasped in shock.

John Interrupts

2008-02-28T18:48:36Z

“Pierre! Pierre are you in your room?” John hollered as he moved through the flat.

I heard him come down the hall and then the twist of the knob. I could only imagine his expression when he found Marguerite and I coiled together on the bed.

“Good afternoon, John,” Marguerite remarked with an audible smirk to her voice.

“Madam, I don’t suppose we have been formally introduced.”

“I suppose not.” I felt her lean in closer to me, her breath on my neck. “I’ll be back later. What time does he leave?” she whispered in my ear.

“6:00”

Her soft lips grazed my cheek as she lifted herself off the bed and I heard her feet gently pad down the hall and out the door.

“Well?” John said huffily. “Seems like we had quite the morning.”

“Indeed we did, John. Now what did you bring me to play today?”

The Ex

2008-02-14T16:02:33Z

“Is something wrong?” she asked, probably noticing the sudden change in my demeanor.

“Um no. Well yes, sort of…” I stumbled over the words.

“Well?”

“It’s just… those were Elizabeth – my ex-wife’s clothes.”

“Yeah… well if she’s your ex, why do you still keep a box with all her stuff in it? Why didn’t she take it?”

I made my way to the divan and slumped down, taking a huge sigh. “Because she never had the chance.”

Silence filled the room. I wished I could she Marguerite’s face, she her expression. See reassurance to continue. But I didn’t.

“Elizabeth and I were married for just over a year. I’m not sure why she ever married me in the first place. She detested everything about me.

“Finally one day, she came home and told me she had been having an affair for the last 5 months. She wanted a divorce and she was going out of town with him the next day.

“She packed her suitcase and left. She said she’d get the rest later.”

I took another deep breath. “She died the next day in a car accident.”

Commentary from the Apartment

2008-02-14T15:34:20Z

She knew now. And she was fine with it. In fact she seemed as though, my blindness wasn’t even an issue.

That hug she gave me, was perfect. Despite the fact that she left me soaked, it was a warmer hug than I had ever recieved in my life. Elizabeth had never felt so good in my arms.

I heard Marguerite step out from the bedroom, “Your house is so… so tidy,” she commented.

“Yes, that’s part of what John takes care of when he visits.”

“John?”

“Yes. The man who is here a lot. The one who met that lady friend of your’s outside. What was her name? Izzy?”

“Oh… right! Him! Quite the character isn’t he?”

“Hmm…” I had no clue how to respond to her comment on John. As far as I could tell Izzy was something herself. “Did you find something to wear?” I asked to change the subject.

“Yeah actually. I found a nice skirt and top in a box in there. Were they your wife’s?”

I know the blood in my face must have drained. It felt so wrong to let her wear Elizabeth’s clothes. Even if she wasn’t coming back for them.

Fallen

2008-02-12T17:17:44Z

Taken off guard, I jumped backwards. Unfortunately not being able to see, I was unable to catch myself, and felt my body crash to the wooden floor.

Sheer embarrassment replaced any emotion I had before. Now she would know my greatest flaw. That I would never be able to look into her beautiful eyes. I would never be able to see her smile.

Time dragged as I laid there. The thought of what expression she might have, terrified me. I tried to pick myself up, but it was to no avail. I did not know what to grip onto.

“Could you give me a hand?” I finally requested while holding mine out blindly in front of me.

Still silence, as she caught my hand and helped me to my feet. “There is something I should tell you…” I began as I tried to find my way to my bench.

At The Doorway

2008-02-12T17:09:51Z

I played my heart and soul. It was not just sadness. It was hope. It was devotion. It was a plea for her to open up. It was love.

I could not hear her. I could only hear the music in my ears. And my desire to be with her. My sweet Marguerite.

As my fingers glided across the keys, banging their thirst into the rich euphoric melody, a sudden rap on the door startled me into utter silence. The tempered tick of the metronome filled the gap before the second knock.

“Pierre, let me in! It’s Marguerite!”

I carefully shuffled to the door, slowly opening it to what I presumed was that beautiful girl. “Are you going to attack me like you did last time?” I questioned with a well attempted smirk on my face.

“I’m not planning on it.” she said curtly, draining the anticipation from my body. “I was hoping to make music with you.”

A new joy swept through me. She had found my secret weakness.

“Come in,” I said as I invited her in. Trying to reach past her body to close the door, my arm brushed up against wet skin.

Lovelorn

2008-02-12T00:07:58Z

Monday

Not a word from the girl.

Tuesday

Still utter silence.

Wednesday

The lonesomeness drags on. My musical solitude is eating away at my soul.

Thursday

What has happened to my angel? I sit at the open window, but only the wind will answer my calls.

Friday

John has had enough of me. He won’t even speak to me anymore. He can’t stand to see me so lovelorn.

He is bringing even more sheet music than usual. But all I can play is the sorrow of my heart. This is far worse than when Elizabeth left me. I never loved her like this.

I have been composing all day. Perhaps I can win back her heart with my song. My song of my love for her.

The Argument

2008-02-11T04:44:35Z

She slipped away and all I wanted was for her to be back in my arms. I didn’t even get her name.

The taste of her kiss lingered on my lips, the warmth of her body, the scent of her hair. I needed her. I longed for her. She fulfilled all my dreams and more.

John so rudely interrupted my fantasies, “What was that?” he demanded in his thick French.

“I don’t believe it is any of your business, John. I’ve never asked about your love life.” I had never taken such a tone with him but his possessiveness really irritated me. Was I not a grown man? Was I not capable of making my own decisions?

“I’m sorry, Pierre. It’s just those girls, they are really quite something. What they are interested in, isn’t romance or true love. They only want a good time in bed.”

I know I must have blushed. But she wasn’t like that. Not at all. The passion in her kiss was so much more. I needed her just as much as she needed me. “You are wrong, John. Now please, I want to be alone.”

After he left, I played her a song.

Marguerite Invites Herself Over

2008-02-10T22:45:57Z

John huffed past me in a flurry towards the door. Although he still seemed mad, I could imagine his eagerness to meet the brash woman from across the alley. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” he mumbled in French, opening the door.

“I wouldn’t expect him anytime soon. If Izzy has her way, they will be occupied for the rest of the day,” the girl with the New Zealand accent hollered.

I wished I could see what she looked like leaning out that window.

“Speaking of which, monsieur, would you like to come over for some lunch and entertainment?”

She had not detected my handicap. She thought I was just like any other man she could seduce with her pretty face and flirty charm.

I was seduced. But by something she would not understand.

“I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but I do not make it a habit of leaving my flat.”

“Well then, why don’t you invite me over?” she countered.

“I don’t think that would be the best idea.” There was silence in return.

I waited for a few minutes until I heard a sudden knock at the door.

Sharing Music

2008-02-10T05:32:34Z

The music was blasting across the alley way. An odd hypnotic beat that sent chills through my body as I thought of her swaying to the music. I had shared my music with her last night and now she was sharing hers.

My eyes were closed as I sprawled on the divan. Images of her based on that soft giggle and foreign accent, filled my mind

I suppose John must have thought I was trying to sleep or meditate when he came to do his services for the day. He immediately became livid that the loud ruckus was disturbing my rest.

I felt him rush past me to the window and start shouting at the girl to shut her “retched noise” off. I knew his French was falling upon deaf ears but the fact that he took such a tone with her enraged me.

I flung myself up and stumbled towards the window. Just as I caught John on the arm to pull him back, I heard her reply. “I’m sorry but I do not speak French. Does the music upset Pierre?” she sounded concerned.

Turning toward the voice, a smile spread across my face, “Not at all,” I called.

Haiku (I know it's a very unoriginal title but how the hell are you suppose to title a freakin' haiku?)

2008-02-10T03:05:01Z

That first brief “goodbye”
The one that started them all
Raindrops on your cheek