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roxyI've got lots and lots of hugs! I feel so loved! And to show my appreciation, I'm posting a bit from the Stand By Me epilogue. I hope you like it. Also. I think I'll start posting a little something I've been working on. I make *no* promise that I'm going to finish it--I mean, I'm pretty sure I will but it's kind of a strange thing.We like each other, this thing and I, but we don't love each other. I can't explain it any other way but thank goodness, ya'll already know I'm weird.
Anyhoo-- here's the next small bit of The Epilogue.
Pete stood outside the apartment building jiggling from foot to foot. He debated just leaving again, but he'd come this far…he looked up at the building towering in front of him.
It was a nice building; bet it was a nice place to live, he thought. Snow pelted him and melted down his neck as he looked up and he shivered, pulled his collar tighter. The flakes swirled around and around and he sighed deeply. He thought, 'no, not today,' and turned to walk back up the street, ignoring the suspicious looks of the passers-by. He pulled his hat a little lower and picked up the pace. The sooner he was out of this neighborhood the better.
The ever-present sound of brass bells clanging and overly hearty ho-ho-ho’s belted out by the side walk Santa’s set his teeth on edge. Every window he passed that was full of greenery and glittering globes and streamers of silvery tinsel added to his feeling of isolation. At home, maybe they didn’t have much-- they sure didn’t have these fancy decorations and stuff-- but right now, everyone was in church, and they’d be singing, and the pastor would have a sermon to bring you to your feet. He smiled thinking of Sister May, she’d fall out and everyone would lean to the side, she wasn’t falling on none of them. He almost laughed but the fact that he was alone at Christmas time hit him again, laughter shriveled up.
Alone, cold and hungry, no snot nose little girl cousins stepping all over his feet and blaming him for every bad thing they did…no getting the eye from Ma in church, that look that said 'you better straighten up and fly right’. He missed the sound of his dad practicing his solo—there’d be no mom’s chicken and potatoes for dinner, no yams or greens or black-eyes peas, no cornbread…
He didn’t know what made him go to Clark’s building except that he was crazy lonely and he felt Clark might be happy to see him. He didn’t know about Lex Luthor, but that other crazy white boy Whitney he knew would be fine with him visiting. He’d been nice and polite to Ma when he’d come by with Clark.
Well fuck it, it was late, he was cold and hungry and he knew he could get a beer and something to eat at Fat Sally’s. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone good was blowing tonight.
Taxi horns blaring and streetcars clanging clashed and combined with Christmas carols and the usual calls of street vendors to make his eardrums vibrate. The sounds of the city...Pete shook his head. Never thought he’d miss the quiet of home…fuck.
He jammed his hands deeper into his pockets and stepped off the curb into a deep pile of slush. He cursed sincerely and with fervor as the ice slopped into his shoes and soaked him. He wished Ma were there to smack him for cursing…he wished he had another fucking pair of shoes…he wished he hadn’t been so damn stupid as to bring his hick ass to New York.um-hum. And if wishes were horses, hell, he'd own a damn racetrack.
next
Anyhoo-- here's the next small bit of The Epilogue.
Pete stood outside the apartment building jiggling from foot to foot. He debated just leaving again, but he'd come this far…he looked up at the building towering in front of him.
It was a nice building; bet it was a nice place to live, he thought. Snow pelted him and melted down his neck as he looked up and he shivered, pulled his collar tighter. The flakes swirled around and around and he sighed deeply. He thought, 'no, not today,' and turned to walk back up the street, ignoring the suspicious looks of the passers-by. He pulled his hat a little lower and picked up the pace. The sooner he was out of this neighborhood the better.
The ever-present sound of brass bells clanging and overly hearty ho-ho-ho’s belted out by the side walk Santa’s set his teeth on edge. Every window he passed that was full of greenery and glittering globes and streamers of silvery tinsel added to his feeling of isolation. At home, maybe they didn’t have much-- they sure didn’t have these fancy decorations and stuff-- but right now, everyone was in church, and they’d be singing, and the pastor would have a sermon to bring you to your feet. He smiled thinking of Sister May, she’d fall out and everyone would lean to the side, she wasn’t falling on none of them. He almost laughed but the fact that he was alone at Christmas time hit him again, laughter shriveled up.
Alone, cold and hungry, no snot nose little girl cousins stepping all over his feet and blaming him for every bad thing they did…no getting the eye from Ma in church, that look that said 'you better straighten up and fly right’. He missed the sound of his dad practicing his solo—there’d be no mom’s chicken and potatoes for dinner, no yams or greens or black-eyes peas, no cornbread…
He didn’t know what made him go to Clark’s building except that he was crazy lonely and he felt Clark might be happy to see him. He didn’t know about Lex Luthor, but that other crazy white boy Whitney he knew would be fine with him visiting. He’d been nice and polite to Ma when he’d come by with Clark.
Well fuck it, it was late, he was cold and hungry and he knew he could get a beer and something to eat at Fat Sally’s. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone good was blowing tonight.
Taxi horns blaring and streetcars clanging clashed and combined with Christmas carols and the usual calls of street vendors to make his eardrums vibrate. The sounds of the city...Pete shook his head. Never thought he’d miss the quiet of home…fuck.
He jammed his hands deeper into his pockets and stepped off the curb into a deep pile of slush. He cursed sincerely and with fervor as the ice slopped into his shoes and soaked him. He wished Ma were there to smack him for cursing…he wished he had another fucking pair of shoes…he wished he hadn’t been so damn stupid as to bring his hick ass to New York.um-hum. And if wishes were horses, hell, he'd own a damn racetrack.
next
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(no subject)
4/12/05 02:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 03:23 am (UTC)He's in New York because with Harlem and all, the city was a mecca for folks from the south.
He's alone because he's a grown man and striking out on his own, leaving his family to become a man, actually. and no-- we're not off the happy road! It's just a slice of life, I promise the happy bus is being driven by the nice driver--really!
(no subject)
4/12/05 02:56 am (UTC)btw, I hope work is good this week. *hugs* :)
(no subject)
4/12/05 03:24 am (UTC)Oh, thanks--if I can refrain from cussing on the selling floor, it'll be okay! *thumbs up, big grin*
(no subject)
4/12/05 03:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 04:19 am (UTC)Damn.
YOu couldn't have Whit or somebody coming out of the building??
Poor Pete!!
*sniffle*
*hugs you*
(no subject)
4/12/05 04:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 06:05 am (UTC):)
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4/12/05 04:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 04:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 05:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 11:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 11:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/05 11:39 pm (UTC)