Ben Langford
Stories (3)
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The Burden of Coexisting
Paul stumbles in through the subway train doors, he thinks his foot was caught in the doorway but worries the other passengers think he’s drunk or ill. He catches himself and shamefully walks over to a pole or seat, he hasn’t decided yet. Nobody on the train noticed Paul’s fumble. He takes a moment to choose to sit or stand; his destination was only a few stops but if he sat, he worries he may zone out and miss his stop. He sits anyway, the pole is a little cold in the winter. It didn’t feel too cold beforehand but perhaps being the only passenger on the train without a coat on makes the temperature seem even lower. He quickly realizes he’s also the only solo rider, three other couples surrounding him.
By Ben Langford2 months ago in Humans
By The Oak Tree
1973 Andrew’s hand clutched the fall leaves that he and Marc were atop of, he crunched them between his fist as he finished. Marc got off top of him and leaned against the oak tree they had set as a meeting point. Andrew let out an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion before joining his lover by the wood.
By Ben Langford2 months ago in Humans
Running with Flowers
You don’t expect to get knocked onto pavement by a woman four times your age, particularly at eleven in the morning. While getting back up, some sort of primal need for revenge takes over as your vision clears. Perhaps you will have enough time to push that person that pushed you and you can shake hands now that the playing field has evened. Once back on your feet, some sense of empathy sets back in, the animal you were four feet ago has calmed down, and all you’re left with is the vague sight of the perpetrator. She doesn’t look back at you, or anyone for that matter, for all you know you are one of several people she’s knocked to the ground on her rampant escapade. All you’re left with as you come back to your senses is the vague image of her. A short woman, gray hair, flowery blouse, a big bouquet of flowers carefully nestled between her arms. With how delicately she held them it looked as if she was carrying a baby. As you resume your aimless walk all you have is the thought of where she’s rushing, and who those precious flowers may be for.
By Ben Langford2 months ago in Journal
