The Question Box

Thursday, December 09, 2004

What Do You Feel



Write a short story about this picture. If you feel like it.

posted by brien at 12/09/2004 06:58:00 PM

11 Comments:

  • mmmmm...Can i have a lollypop?

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:45 PM  

  • Man - what a cutie. Do you know this person? Is he taken? Haha.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 2:05 PM  

  • Wow, those sure are some great stories. I can't decide if the setting is appropriate for either of them, but the plot is just dynamic. So many twists and turns, you just don't know what happens next.

    Henry woke up this morning and threw on a loose blue shirt. He looked at his watch and silently cursed to himself; he was going to catch hell when he got to work today. He slipped on his boots and grabbed a box of old chinese food out of the fridge.
    The ride to work was a stop and go festival, that the county held daily on interstate 26. Henry couldn't help but let his mind wander to the wife that left him 2 years ago, and took every dime he owned. He often found himself lost in the daily grind most mornings just like this. Henry couldn't help but escape the feeling that he was just another white male that was born and raised in the suburbs. He couldn't escape these feelings of anonymity, how worthless he felt after his wife left him and took his kids, and how stupid he looked to everyo... slam right into the back of another car, mother fucker.
    Henry climbs back into his truck after the cops leave, and he turns the radio on to his favorite station. He makes it to work and punches his ticket in, and a wave of relief as he sees the managers chair empty for the moment. The secretary comes back in from the machine shop and sees him, and tells him that the manager needs to speak with him as soon as possible. "Well I'm in for it now," he thinks to himself.
    The manager is a short man with an exceeding waist line. He is wearing light khaki's with top siders and a white company polo shirt. He spots Henry and walks over to see him. "This is the second time this has happened this week Henry, and the fifth time this month. I'm sorry Henry but we're going have to let you go at the end of this pay period. I'm sorry but it's the best I can do."

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:23 PM  

  • The piercing noise of cutting metal shocks his slowing mind to wake. The black dust caking his throat leaves fresh air as something to be desired. Taking of his goggles he looks around and wonders. One thing he learned from early on is that life is not easy. Actually it is quite hard. Some people go through out their lives believing that they deserve the best, they deserve the easy road. This is not one of those men. Hard work makes a hard man, but also a real one. Instead of being a cafeteria spoon made out of cheap metal bent by a wimpy press and cleaned to be shinny, his soul is being bent in fire by the trials of life. He is what he is. No plastic covering, no cheap wrapper. At first he might appear just to be another man struck down by the pain of life, but this pain as brought to surface is core. Beneath the skin that so easily scars, there is a man of hope. So take heart my friends, hold fast to your hope.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:03 PM  

  • This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 9:36 PM  

  • I remember that one fateful day when the supervisor took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm fired, aren't I?"
    "Well," said the supervisor, "you never were really hired. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your hammer is a toy plastic hammer. You paint your face black every morning and show up at work and then either steal the power tools and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this man. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on. (Adapted from a Jack Handy Quote)

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 9:43 PM  

  • I deleted that post because the guy asked me to.

    By Blogger brien, at 2:50 AM  

  • Now this is the story all about how
    My life got flipped, turned upside down
    And I’d like to take a minute just sit right there
    I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called bel-air

    In west philadelfia born and raised
    On the playground where I spent most of my days
    Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
    And all shooting some b-ball outside of the school
    When a couple of guys said we’re up in no good
    Started making trouble in my neighbourhood
    I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
    And said you’re moving with your aunte and uncle in bel-air

    I whistled for a cab and when it came near the
    Licensplate said fresh and had a dice in the mirror
    If anything I could say that this cab was rare
    But I thought now forget it, yo home to bel-air

    I pulled up to a house about seven or eight
    And I yelled to the cabby yo, home smell you later
    Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
    To settle my throne as the prince of bel-air!

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:05 AM  

  • Ponce de Leon starred intensely through his primitive bronze magnifier thingy. “The fountain of youth is definitely over there.” He’d been searching for weeks and finding only disappointment and naïve Indians. He knew that the deadline would soon be up, and he must face the Queen of Spain and her hideous laser beam monkey wig. He shuddered at the thought of the pain it would inflict on his mandibles. “OH!” He yelped “I must find the fountain of Youth so I can use it to create cheesecake.”
    His sailors laughed at his yelling. ‘Cheesecake!?’ they thought ‘How can cheese and cake be made one, fool!’

    400 something years later

    Bob smirked as he went back to his crappy getting soot on face job, ‘At least my great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- grandfather Ponce De Leon showed them’ he thought. He would totally have I nice big slice of cheesecake when he got home that day, ha ha ha!

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:48 AM  

  • I especially enjoyed that one.

    By Blogger brien, at 5:03 PM  

  • Those were all great!.. I have lost my original thought, now.. but I'll be back to make one up.. (cute boy)

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:53 PM  

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