humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Bad Boy or Lost Soul
Sunday… “STOP!!!” I yelled as these two thugs came from behind a tree and grabbed at jogging wallet, “Help!” One of them pulled a knife & cut the wallet strap around my arm. His partner grabbed it & headed into the park. I continued to yell! Out of nowhere comes this tall blond guy and slams him to the ground & pulled out a gun. “Chill,” he said. He kneeled down & asked if I’m OK, “No, they have my wallet…” “Don’t worry, I’ll get him," said the stranger.
By Milton N Green Jr5 years ago in Humans
Choices and The Tunnel
"Hiro! My dearest Hiro. Why doth thee labor away at thine rectangular enslavement cube. Come hither! Let us depart from these shackles into the great catastrophe that is humanity. We must partake on the throes of history." Jolan was preparing for his next play so the antics were a little higher than usual. During his riveting speech I met the disgruntled eyes of my colleagues. It had to be addressed, loudly. "JOLAN, you can't keep barging in here like this! This is a laboratory you could have startled someone!" I looked towards the apathetic faces surrounding me, no one cared. Jolan reaching in his jacket to fetch a bribe. "Allow me to redress this unwelcomed performance with an offer of TWO complimentary drinks with any ticket purchased to next weeks..." I grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him outside while sincerely pondering. "What is wrong with you?" He dusted himself off as I closed the door behind me.
By Steve Stevenson5 years ago in Humans
Mine Magic, Mundane
Everyone has their own magic words. You write your first in crayon, in the pages of a rainy-day coloring book, or on the back of the kid’s menu, or if your parents are particularly unlucky, the living room wall. You grin in wonder and delight as this made-up word inexplicably shutters the blinds, or changes the television channel, or spins a tornado in your chocolate milk, or turns your teeth green.
By Braxten Rutherford5 years ago in Humans
Safe With Me
The sudden outburst was loud enough to startle his wife, who was downstairs in the kitchen chopping ingredients for a curry recipe she found online earlier that day. She was mid-chop into a carrot when the knife sprung from her jolted hand and danced to a stop across the tiled countertop. It sounded like his team must’ve scored a touchdown. She grabbed the knife, gave it a quick rinse and continued chopping before realizing football season had already ended.
By Aiza Ablang5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
The Little Black Book It was 4.28 AM and pools of light illuminated periodic sections of the dark platform. Scant few passengers gathered around the apparent safety of the lit areas, maintaining an approximately equal distance from the next.
By Obelia McCormack5 years ago in Humans
Indistinct
Paul had been plagued by intrusive thoughts this morning, imagining someone just in front of him being flattened by a piano, carried above on ropes by workmen with abnormal, trunk sized arms, like in a cartoon. The irony was not lost on Paul, driving in his medium sized delivery truck, that he was far more likely to flatten someone himself, if his thoughts didn’t stop intruding. As he pulled in behind “The FairGround” a cavernous downtown bar, his first destination, he thought about velocity, and if in some way imagining flattening was compensation for wielding his delivery truck. Although the truck was about half the size of a long haul, it was still a massive construct for anyone. More irony made Paul smile to himself: truck drivers may be low skill, (Paul did not identify with his job) but are entrusted with such powerful machines, the scales of skill to power, knowledge to strength, are inverse. Rambling thoughts sustained Paul on these cold mornings, and as he parked the truck back behind the bar, his thoughts had moved on past piano flattening's and onto his delivery itinerary. Paul marked his arrival time down in his green binder.
By Jackie Kangas5 years ago in Humans
Of Monsters, Men, and Children
Nestled in a fleece blanket, red wine in hand and scrolling through Netflix, I could be describing any number of people in the world, at any one time really. Maybe the wine is white, or the blanket is a fancier Sherpa type instead of the ones at my local grocery store for $10. Regardless, we all sit in variations of the same position—poised in comfort, our underbellies protected, warm and fed on the inside and without fear from the outside world. We become transfixed at the stories opposite of this, things like Taken (2008), where a desperate father with a “particular set of skills” takes down dozens to save his daughter, their world invaded and in effect taken from them. What would we do if that happened? My set of skills would be limited to bicep curls with beers and the napping skills of a gold medal champion. What if, not quite in the extreme of an international trafficking ring, we lost all of the comfort and protection of that blanket, the couch, and the locked front door? Shows like “The Walking Dead” attempt to present “everyday people” as survivors fighting off the gnashing hoard, but could our hands swing an axe as well as our fingers swipe on Tinder?
By Jess Osborne5 years ago in Humans
Freedom.
Some people pursue a new and different life. Others are forced into one by necessity. This was never more clear to K as he balanced, on both arms, breakfast dishes still heaped with untouched food, bacon fat dripping off the plates down the sleeve of his uniform. K backed through the swinging door to the kitchen and, through the dining room window, caught an uninterrupted view of autumn foliage spanning the length of Central Park from the Club on 59th Street all the way to Harlem.
By Mark Lombard5 years ago in Humans
