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Mr. Stone
I wrote this originally as alot longer piece but broke it off into sections as an experiment. I wanted to see what people make of the story, where they think it is going. More of an experiment for me. All opinions would be much appreciated.
Mr. Stone
by
Gregory T. Wilson
"I am alone."
The cold rain of a winters night soaks through his sweater, freezing on his skin from the icy wind and chilling his very bones. He remains outside, staring down at a new grave made of cheap stone and poorly engrave letters.
'Here lies Martin Stark. His memory will be with us always.' The epitaph reads.
"Cheap words" he spits. The spit freezes on the grave in mere moments. His body shaking, the man runs his right hand through his short, freezing black hair. He walks off to another grave.
'Here lies Laura Stark. "I will give you peace and quietness." -I Chronicles 16:11
The man sneers stronger than he shivers, wiping his muddy shoes across the biblical quote.
All night this man walks from grave to grave that is of the Stark name, and at each one is angered. His strength slowly deteriates as does his body's warmth. As the moon fades away, so does his consciousness.
'Here lies Charles Stark. "I will never fail you or forsake you." - Hebrews 13:5. And on the ground unconscious lies a short, gaunt, pale caucasian male, black hair and green eyes wearing a white sweater, black jeans and loafers. His body lay motionless in the freezing mud; tears frozen over his eyes.
"I am all alone."
* * * * *
A wallpaper of rust populates the walls of the dilapitated apartment building. The boards creak. Insects scurry across the floor of what they have long since conquered as a home of their own. A bible, soaked from the ceilings drip of putrid rain from the acid filled clouds of a poverty stricken metropolis accompanies it's lonesomein the middle of the half-carpeted floor. A single fly lie dead on the bible as if it had flown above and fell lifeless upon the site of the Good Word. Candles drowned in their own wax ooze in circles around the bible. A decaying cat lie in the corner. The only life left in the feline is the colony of ants feasting upon it, carrying off small pieces of the cat's flesh as a prize for their queen. Right of the cat are two dry rotted, empty, plastic dishes full of cobwebs; one for food and one for water. A dove flies in from an opening in the rotting wood boarding the window and lands on the bible. The dove bobs it head around, scanning the room. The bird of peace spots the fly and eats it, but chokes. In a fit of panic, the dove tries with all its power to dislodge the fly from its throat. Slowly, as the dove grows weaker, its feathers fade to black and its beak elongates into that of a crow.
"Caw! Caw!" the crow calls.
"Caw, Caw, caa....caugh!" the man wakes up in a bead of sweat, his heart beating with fear. That dream again. That same dream again.
The man opens his eyes and to wince at the bright colors. The room is white. The beeps and blurps of medical electronics make a rhythm. The confused man opens his eyes more in shock and wonderment, sitting up in his hospital bed.
"Hello?" he calls softly as if to assure himself that he is awake.
'Where am I?' The man wonders. Freezing rain and tombstones are all he can remember. The man rubs his eyes as the door slowly opens.
"Good moring Mr. Stark. How are we feeling" the male doctor speaks as he enters. He is dressed in khakis and a black polo covered by a white overcoat. The doctor holds a pad of papers in one hand and a pen in the other.
"I am Dr. Carol. Please dont try to move around alot. Allow yourself to wake up and get used to your surroundings. Must have been quite a time last night."
The memories were coming back to him now, and they were not helping untie the unsettling knot in his heart.
"I am all alone" the man laughed oddly with a tear filling his left eye, teasing the skin on his cheaks.
* * * * *
He hadn't been there but a few hours he figured. His clothes were still damp.
"I love my life" Brian sarcastically spoke to himself as he looked at a psycologists business card the doctor had given him in concern.
Brian walked down the familiar memory filled streets of his childhood in persuit to his lonely apartment downtown. Each memory, once beautiful and fullfilling are now like spikes to his heart.
"Keep walking" he spoke to himself, trying to get past the horrible streets he once loved as a child. He couldn't help but tearfully scan the old buildings and sites that still stood when he was twelve years old.
"That statue" laughed Brian. "Its still here."
A statue of an old man holding his hand out in kindness. The stone statue had lost its color to the years and become a perch for the birds from the look of all the dropping making shoulder pads on the old man. Moss was starting to grow on the north side. The plaque that once gave the name of this great man that deserved a statue of his own had long since falling off or fell victim to vandalism.
Brian walked up to the statue. Something about that statue made him feel warm under his cold heart. The statue had existed since before even he was born. This statue had never left him after all this time. It still remained.
"Hello, Mr. Stone" those childhood words sounded from his lips that now adorned a crescent smile. Brian played near this statue as a kid. The old man always made him feel comfortable and loved.
"You seem to have been forgotten by the others, but I still know you..... You'll never leave me will you, Mr. Stone?"
Dusting off the grime on the old man statue's hand, Brian took it in his.
"I am all alone, Mr. Stone"
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