cellardoor

I watched the bus outside pull away, spewing smoke and grunting. The clerk behind the counter pulled me away from the postcard scene outside to give me my French Vanilla. I took it and sat down in one of the cushiony chairs strewn about the town’s only coffee shop, facing the enormous window-wall. I took a sip and looked out to see two young boys, about thirteen and fourteen, staring absent-mindedly at my breasts and talking. I took another sip and angled myself away from the window.

There was a ding as an older boy walked in, maybe sixteen. The way he walked was like slow motion, and I couldn’t help but stare. He had on jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His inside left forearm had “light blue” written on it, in fat light blue letters. He was wearing glasses that were the same color as the ink on his arm, but were obscured by his long brown hair.

He walked up to the counter and ordered a glass of water, which was free. The clerk glared at him, but he just smiled. He took his cup and floated over to the chair next to mine and sat down. He stared out the window, at what I couldn’t tell. I stopped staring directly at him, instead examining his reflection in the window. Those kids were still out there, but I wasn't paying them any attention.

He took a long, long drink from his cup. “Those kids…” he said, drawing out the s in “kids” for a few seconds.

I turned towards him, scrutinizing his face. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything to say. I closed my mouth, but kept watching him.

He turned towards me and looked me square in the eye. “Those kids are staring at your boobs.”

My jaw dropped. “Uh.. ahh.. yeah, uh, yeah, I know.”

“You didn’t seem to mind very much.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Hmph. I turned away from them. And why do you care anyway?”

He smiled, the grin spreading across his face like a rumor through the office. “I care because nobody else does. And you know you didn’t turn far enough away from them to make a difference.”

I glanced back out the window. He was right, the boys had just taken a few steps to the side, and once again had a perfect view. I turned back to the kid sitting next to me. He was glaring at the boys outside. He suddenly grinned. “Watch this!” he said, a chuckle in his throat. I looked around outside.

Two girls, the same age as the boys, were walking up. The boys wouldn’t notice them until they walked past, since they were captivated by my breasts. The girls stood behind the boys, peering through the window, seeing what they were looking at.

“Three… two… one!” the kid beside me counted. On “one”, the girls’ eyes widened simultaneously. They spun the boys around and started berating them. I could hear it through the window, slightly muffled.

“Johnny! Why would you stare at some old bitch’s boobs when you’re going out with me?! Mark! How could you! That’s like cheating on me with your eyes! You asshole! We’re through! It’s over!”

The boys stuttered and mounted their defense. “But, but I wasn’t! I didn't look! I swear! I wouldn’t do that to you! I like your boobs better than hers! I mean, I didn’t even barely even look at them! I’m sorry!”

The girls walked off, with the boys following behind, arms outstretched, pleading.

“Wow…” I breathed. “Wow.”

The kid next to me laughed. “Don’t worry, after a day or two everything will be fine. This is just a small punishment for them.”

I laughed, amazed. “What are the odds of that happening? And how do you know all that?”

He stopped laughing and looked into his water. “You wanted the boys to leave. I could feel it in the air around you. I guided your energy, and together we called their girlfriends here. And the reason I know all that is because I know it.”

It took me a while to think of something to say. “You.. you don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

He turned towards me and smiled dazzlingly. “Not really, but who knows? It might be true.”

I chuckled. “What’s your name? I’m Angela.”

He stared back out the window. “Call me the ghost of kindness. I’m just some kid, but that’s what you can call me.”

I nodded and looked out the window with him. This kid was high as a kite.

We sat in silence for a minute or two, staring out the window. After a while I felt like I should say something.

“I like talking with you, ghost of kindness.” I looked at him and smiled.

He looked into my eyes again. “That’s a shame.”

My ribs juggled my lungs for a second. “Why?”

“’Cause my water is all gone. Time to head out. But here.” He pulled a fat purple marker out of his pocket and started writing directly on the short table in front of us.

I looked around the shop frantically, whispering at him, “Stop, stop! You can’t do that! What are you doing! You’ll ruin the table!”

He finished writing and grinned at me. “It wipes off, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later- and don’t forget about that.” He pointed down at the table.

I looked down. On the table were seven digits, which I put into my cell phone quickly. When I looked up again, the door was closing. The ghost of kindness turned the corner, laughing. When he reached the point where those two boys had been standing, he looked in, directly at my boobs. I laughed and waved goodbye. He waved and walked off, grinning.

I laughed to myself and wiped his number off the table. It came off no problem.

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If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.

Sigg

another classy story about a classy character, although idunno how many 13 yr old girls have boobs...

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ross

Brilliant. You made me laugh out loud twice there. Great stuff!

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http://www.writingforums.com/poetry/60590-lucky.html http://www.writingforums.com/fiction...-freefall.html

cellardoor

who said she was thirteen? i guess i should work her age into it. thanks guys

__________________
If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.

Sock

God damn, I wish the Ghost of Kindness would visit me...

Another good one by the way.

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At least I think... so...

Sigg

You did, when you said

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Drivin' in my Cadillac Rock Box

cellardoor

hows this?
“Johnny! Why would you stare at some old bitch’s boobs when you’re going out with me?! Mark! How could you! That’s like cheating on me with your eyes! You asshole! We’re through! It’s over!”
i hope that makes the protagonist seem older

and sock, thank you incredibly much. that is such a huge compliment.

__________________
If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.

Raging_Hopeful

I'm giving serious thought to stalking you.... Another brillant piece and so funny. I really like the end too. It all seems to be culminating into some sort of finale? Or maybe not... either way, it's good stuff and whether it stands on its own or besides the others... its all good.

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semtecks

I read this before and forgot to comment. It has some nice dialogue and it was clear and easy to read. Who is the ghost of kindness though -- is he an actual ghost like in Scrooge, an angel, or just some kind of enlightenment-achieved stoner (I like that one best myself). I noticed his name isn't capitalised ... clue?

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cellardoor

raging hopeful
thanks a crapload, and yeah, i'm working towards a finale

semtecks
the ghost is what he is. and you'll find out eventually what that is.

__________________
If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.

kalibantre

I really like this.

Have you ever read Neil Gaiman's Sanman graphic novels. Your Ghost of kindness, reminds me a great deal of Death in that. She's a happy go lucky gothic teenager but she's incharge of all life. Just something about the two matches.

Read her books if you get the chance and you should see the similarity. But it's a good one.

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~kitty

cellardoor

i will definitely check that out, and thank you

__________________
If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.