“Where have the stars gone!” I was sipping a cup of coffee and working on a crossword puzzle when I noticed a petite girl push her way through a crowd, frantically tugging on the clothing of random strangers. Sitting on the park bench had become routine for my morning breaks, in that time I had noticed tons of strange people doing all kinds of crazy things. Yesterday a naked man ran into traffic screaming about the end of the world, he was subsequently hit by a car. My attention returned to the crossword puzzle; how fitting, a three letter word for pistachio.
“The stars are gone,” the girl continued her very public breakdown. “They went away.”
A portly older woman, wearing a grandmother style dress, gravitated towards the girl and tried to calm her down. She asked her all the questions you would ask strange kids who inquire about the stars when the sun has been up for hours. How old are you? What is your name? Where are your parents? I was not surprised when the girl’s only answer was a befuddled look. I was amazed at the patience the older woman had, the sort of patience only a grandparent with years of experience could muster.
Agitation had started to kick in when my sunlight was blocked by a gathering of people, making it impossible for me to complete the puzzle. They circled the young girl and her new friend, who introduced herself as Joyce. I grabbed my coffee and prepared to leave until the girl finally gave her name. “Angel,” she announced during a break in her sobbing. I have no explanation why it grabbed my attention — it just seemed harder to ignore her.
Angel’s crying weakened when Joyce embraced her. A police officer arrived on the scene but noticed the calming effect of the older woman’s touch on Angel and allowed her to continue the questioning. Joyce’s tone softened when she repeated her earlier inquires — this time Angel gave details; she was twelve years old and living on the street with her mother. I was feeling guilty for disregarding Angel’s plea for help. My stomach started to twist, much like it does when battling the flu.
“My mother told me she had to leave with a strange man.” Angel’s words left the crowd of people bewildered; they searched each other’s faces for answers. “She said she would return before the stars disappeared.”
this is beautiful. wowzers! I love how you use ‘battling the flu. it is so mundane and stupid compared to being homeless -a great foil, and still it manages to tell how the narrator was feeling. Nine stars out of 4
Very profound. I’m about to cry… I wish I had a mere fraction of your writing talent! It’s like you never experience writer’s block. An amazing story, really. I particularly enjoyed the juxtaposition of nut and the nutty naked man.
Also, I like the new layout. : )
You have achieved such a great balance between comedy/wit and profound sadness that leaves one so empty and longing. This story sorta reminds me of that defining moment in my life when I realized how lonely and desolate the world really is, though it may seem to be filled with people… Very nice
Wow. If you hadn’t visited my blog, I never would have had the opportunity to read this. You do realize that this is the beginning of a longer story, don’t you? You do know that your narrator has to take this further, that Angel’s story must be told, that the reason for the coffee routine must be fleshed out.
I’m not saying that it isn’t wonderful the way that it is, but if I’m not reading the opening to a novel, then I don’t know a thing about writing or editing.
This is really powerful, and I agree with poietes: I want to know more. Thanks for the comment on my blog!
I like this very much!
Thank you too for looking in on my blog.
Patty
http://happysalad.wordpress.com
thanks for the comment! it led me here, and i am so glad. i loved the heart-wrenching twist in this story. i’ll be sure to read more!