Skywalker
Space Jump
- Joined
- May 7, 2006
- Messages
- 2,317
Lyrics
MP3 (Don't steal)
By the Moody Blues.
Gotta do some small edits and then I'm finished.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Glenn gazed at me with his deep brown eyes. “Care for another one?”
I twirled a glass in my hands, and its contents spilled to the floor. “Heheh—sure, thanks.” Glenn reached for the bottle of whiskey and filled it over the rim.
“So you’re interested,” he said persuasively, a smile creeping onto his tough face.
I grinned back at him. “Of course.”
The phone pierced through the silence of my slumber. In spite of my headache, I shot out of my cot and snatched the receiver.
“Yeah...?” I muttered.
A voice boomed over my thoughts of sleep. “Robert Johnson?”
“This is him,” I replied. It was Glenn.
“Ain’t it nice sleeping in late?” he paused. “’Specially on your first day on the job?”
“I don’t work for you.”
“But—“
“Keep your damn money and leave me the hell alone,” I fumed.
“A contract’s a contract, Johnson.”
From where I sat, I let the receiver crawl through my hand and bang onto the floor, the phone cord snaring itself between my fingers. The whiskey! My blazing temper trampled through my patience. I gripped the receiver and whispered through gritted teeth, “Yes?”
“I hope you’ll be there.”
“I will. Just give me some time to get—“ He had hung up.
The mining gear that lay on my floor had been worn. The hardhat, drenched in rust, had small holes in the top; the pair of mining trousers had a large revealing tear across one pant leg, its color faded. I reluctantly slipped the gear on, opened the front door and ran into the scorched gulch of Harrison City.
The strangers of the settlement had always greeted me with a slight nod, and today was no different. Their acknowledgements lightened my gloomy mood a bit, but I continued to shuffle through the barren wasteland of a town, following the stretching path to the mine.
At last I came to the town exit. I observed the patch of green in the distance and behind it the spires of rock where the mining operation was taking place. Tiny specks representing the miners moved in and out of the mine. The sun was already falling behind the mountains, so I hurried along the dusty path.
As I went farther, small plants climbed through the dry cracks in the sand. The arid landscape began to flourish into a scenery of trees and ponds. Just like it would be in a fairy tail. I ran to a pond and dipped my hand into the cool liquid, letting the water carry the dirt away. The water met my lips, like a kiss. I savored every last drop that fell down my parched throat.
Again I remembered about how late I was for work. Even though I ran, the lush sights still managed to capture my eye. How could I not have seen something like this? The choir of songbirds, the families of deer—it all provoked me to stay.
But I still followed the path to the mine. The trees of the forest faded into crags, the ponds into domes of stone. The miners bore none of the kindness that townspeople had had. The closer and closer I drew to the mine the workers glared at me as more often, as if I were carrying a nugget of gold.
Glenn stood next to the entrance for the mineshaft, scanning the mountain for my faded uniform. His blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Boss,” I greeted.
The mining boss was caught by surprise. “You showed up,” He flared his nostrils at the sight of my old mining clothes. “You wear that?”
“Not exactly top of the line anymore but—“
“I see.” The tone of his reply tore what little pride I had clear off my ass. “Get to work, find coal, and keep whatever else the hell you find. Look for me and your paycheck’ll be at sunset.”
“Yes sir.”
So I began my first day of work, traveling down the unstable lift to the mine.
Small pebbles trickled down the side of the mining tunnel like an order of ants, anxious to find a grain of food. The miners contested each other; their pickaxes were hammering furiously at any glint within the hundreds of dull rocks. I heard a man shout out in glee when he discovered a small piece of gold, followed by half-hearted murmurs of congratulation.
After a job of pecking at the rocks and gathering coal, I realized that my shift must’ve been over; no one else was working inside the mine. As I walked backwards, my legs weak with fatigue, a subtle light shone in the mineshaft. At last! Rain! The water was refreshing; it removed the jet black dust from my face. Much to my annoyance, the liquid weighed my clothes down and made it even more difficult to find Glenn.
There before me was the small forest I had been in earlier. My feet pounded along the beaten path; the droplets of water pinging against my hardhat. The sun chased the clouds away; my mood brightened. A large tree managed to meet my eye and I instantly knew it was special, with its moist golden leaves gleaming in the new sunlight. I moved toward it and heard a voice.
"Ah... there you are." Glenn!
"You never told me where I could find you, sir," I observed.
"I realize that," he replied.
"Paycheck, then?"
"Of course. Take this." Glenn handed to me a slip of paper. I quickly tucked it away in my pocket and began to head back to my home.
"Wait!" Glenn interjected. His face faded to a pink color. "There--there was no contract." What the fuckng hell?!
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. What else did you do to me while I was drunk?" It would've felt so good to slug that man in the face.
"You have your damn money, you don't have to work for me anymore," Glenn reassured.
I grabbed the crumpled check out of my wallet. "Only ten dollars. How am I supposed to make a living off of that?"
"You were late. And time is money. I'm sorry, but it happens to everyone, not just you."
My powerful temper seized control of my mind... and my common sense. I could hear nothing but his irritating voice, driving me into oblivion. I hoisted my pick axe onto my right shoulder. "You cheap son-of-a-bitch." My pick axe swung at the ground, crushing the flowers beneath it. "Give me more."
Glenn's eyes widened in despair. "I have no money." He raised his fists for protection.
I raised the pick axe and whirled it at Glenn. The tool pierced his skin and he fell backward, a trail of blood saturating the forest grass. Glenn lay on the ground, staring at my enraged figure. "Give me more," I ordered.
"I have n-nothing," he said weakly. The liar. I pryed the bloody pick axe from his limp arm and struck him again, stabbing him in the heart. His body fell limp and the fountain of blood coming from his chest ceased. Finally. I searched his remains and found nothing but evidence of my murder. Or so it was until I checked the back pocket of his trousers. A sheet of paper, folded neatly, sat in his pocket, bloodless.
"There is someone I love
He calls to me
Like a dove
I search him out
And without a doubt
He is you"
The little poem touched me. But he was a man; a queer man.
Glenn's body was carried by me and set gently into the pond. I knelt on one knee and realized that I had killed a man--a person who loved me.
"There is someone I love
He calls to me
Like a dove
I search him out
And without a doubt
He is you," I whispered to his floating body.
The sunset brightened Glenn's body and and reflected off the pond, showing my peaceful face. He'd be fine--in Heaven.
I sat on the shore, staring at the sky, praying for Glenn's spirit, and enjoying the beauty of a Tuesday Afternoon.
MP3 (Don't steal)
By the Moody Blues.
Gotta do some small edits and then I'm finished.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Glenn gazed at me with his deep brown eyes. “Care for another one?”
I twirled a glass in my hands, and its contents spilled to the floor. “Heheh—sure, thanks.” Glenn reached for the bottle of whiskey and filled it over the rim.
“So you’re interested,” he said persuasively, a smile creeping onto his tough face.
I grinned back at him. “Of course.”
* * *
The phone pierced through the silence of my slumber. In spite of my headache, I shot out of my cot and snatched the receiver.
“Yeah...?” I muttered.
A voice boomed over my thoughts of sleep. “Robert Johnson?”
“This is him,” I replied. It was Glenn.
“Ain’t it nice sleeping in late?” he paused. “’Specially on your first day on the job?”
“I don’t work for you.”
“But—“
“Keep your damn money and leave me the hell alone,” I fumed.
“A contract’s a contract, Johnson.”
From where I sat, I let the receiver crawl through my hand and bang onto the floor, the phone cord snaring itself between my fingers. The whiskey! My blazing temper trampled through my patience. I gripped the receiver and whispered through gritted teeth, “Yes?”
“I hope you’ll be there.”
“I will. Just give me some time to get—“ He had hung up.
The mining gear that lay on my floor had been worn. The hardhat, drenched in rust, had small holes in the top; the pair of mining trousers had a large revealing tear across one pant leg, its color faded. I reluctantly slipped the gear on, opened the front door and ran into the scorched gulch of Harrison City.
The strangers of the settlement had always greeted me with a slight nod, and today was no different. Their acknowledgements lightened my gloomy mood a bit, but I continued to shuffle through the barren wasteland of a town, following the stretching path to the mine.
At last I came to the town exit. I observed the patch of green in the distance and behind it the spires of rock where the mining operation was taking place. Tiny specks representing the miners moved in and out of the mine. The sun was already falling behind the mountains, so I hurried along the dusty path.
As I went farther, small plants climbed through the dry cracks in the sand. The arid landscape began to flourish into a scenery of trees and ponds. Just like it would be in a fairy tail. I ran to a pond and dipped my hand into the cool liquid, letting the water carry the dirt away. The water met my lips, like a kiss. I savored every last drop that fell down my parched throat.
Again I remembered about how late I was for work. Even though I ran, the lush sights still managed to capture my eye. How could I not have seen something like this? The choir of songbirds, the families of deer—it all provoked me to stay.
But I still followed the path to the mine. The trees of the forest faded into crags, the ponds into domes of stone. The miners bore none of the kindness that townspeople had had. The closer and closer I drew to the mine the workers glared at me as more often, as if I were carrying a nugget of gold.
Glenn stood next to the entrance for the mineshaft, scanning the mountain for my faded uniform. His blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Boss,” I greeted.
The mining boss was caught by surprise. “You showed up,” He flared his nostrils at the sight of my old mining clothes. “You wear that?”
“Not exactly top of the line anymore but—“
“I see.” The tone of his reply tore what little pride I had clear off my ass. “Get to work, find coal, and keep whatever else the hell you find. Look for me and your paycheck’ll be at sunset.”
“Yes sir.”
So I began my first day of work, traveling down the unstable lift to the mine.
Small pebbles trickled down the side of the mining tunnel like an order of ants, anxious to find a grain of food. The miners contested each other; their pickaxes were hammering furiously at any glint within the hundreds of dull rocks. I heard a man shout out in glee when he discovered a small piece of gold, followed by half-hearted murmurs of congratulation.
After a job of pecking at the rocks and gathering coal, I realized that my shift must’ve been over; no one else was working inside the mine. As I walked backwards, my legs weak with fatigue, a subtle light shone in the mineshaft. At last! Rain! The water was refreshing; it removed the jet black dust from my face. Much to my annoyance, the liquid weighed my clothes down and made it even more difficult to find Glenn.
There before me was the small forest I had been in earlier. My feet pounded along the beaten path; the droplets of water pinging against my hardhat. The sun chased the clouds away; my mood brightened. A large tree managed to meet my eye and I instantly knew it was special, with its moist golden leaves gleaming in the new sunlight. I moved toward it and heard a voice.
"Ah... there you are." Glenn!
"You never told me where I could find you, sir," I observed.
"I realize that," he replied.
"Paycheck, then?"
"Of course. Take this." Glenn handed to me a slip of paper. I quickly tucked it away in my pocket and began to head back to my home.
"Wait!" Glenn interjected. His face faded to a pink color. "There--there was no contract." What the fuckng hell?!
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. What else did you do to me while I was drunk?" It would've felt so good to slug that man in the face.
"You have your damn money, you don't have to work for me anymore," Glenn reassured.
I grabbed the crumpled check out of my wallet. "Only ten dollars. How am I supposed to make a living off of that?"
"You were late. And time is money. I'm sorry, but it happens to everyone, not just you."
My powerful temper seized control of my mind... and my common sense. I could hear nothing but his irritating voice, driving me into oblivion. I hoisted my pick axe onto my right shoulder. "You cheap son-of-a-bitch." My pick axe swung at the ground, crushing the flowers beneath it. "Give me more."
Glenn's eyes widened in despair. "I have no money." He raised his fists for protection.
I raised the pick axe and whirled it at Glenn. The tool pierced his skin and he fell backward, a trail of blood saturating the forest grass. Glenn lay on the ground, staring at my enraged figure. "Give me more," I ordered.
"I have n-nothing," he said weakly. The liar. I pryed the bloody pick axe from his limp arm and struck him again, stabbing him in the heart. His body fell limp and the fountain of blood coming from his chest ceased. Finally. I searched his remains and found nothing but evidence of my murder. Or so it was until I checked the back pocket of his trousers. A sheet of paper, folded neatly, sat in his pocket, bloodless.
"There is someone I love
He calls to me
Like a dove
I search him out
And without a doubt
He is you"
The little poem touched me. But he was a man; a queer man.
Glenn's body was carried by me and set gently into the pond. I knelt on one knee and realized that I had killed a man--a person who loved me.
"There is someone I love
He calls to me
Like a dove
I search him out
And without a doubt
He is you," I whispered to his floating body.
The sunset brightened Glenn's body and and reflected off the pond, showing my peaceful face. He'd be fine--in Heaven.
I sat on the shore, staring at the sky, praying for Glenn's spirit, and enjoying the beauty of a Tuesday Afternoon.
