Wait for gold, or enjoy bronze now?

I am not sure what the title of this posts summons to mind for you, but it is indicative of a little personal battle I have been having with myself. With so much going on lately, I have been stretched pretty thin. I am watching Dexter and playing Mr. Mom while Addie is at work and when she is home I am job searching (still no luck), doing school work, building my website, trying to do writing exercises, so that I can get better at writing, all while trying to squeeze in time for my story wherever I can find it.

Truthfully, its the job searching that is destroying my time, and seemingly in vein. I swear one more assessment and my head will pop off. I have applied for almost every job in every established business in Corinth, as well as in the surrounding cities. The only places I haven’t applied are food service based. Why would I go back to food service when I left a 4 star restaurant and a salary job? I am trying to/have been trying to move away from food service. Seems that I don’t have much experience in retail or whatever (insert random business here). I think it is those pesky assessments. Do you guys actually answer them honestly? That is what I have been doing and apparently I am a terrible person. Which is funny, because I left Liberty National because I didn’t like feeling like I was scamming people and cold calling. Alright, I am done ranting, on to the purpose of this post.

So, this is not about my lack of a job, nor is it about Liberty National and my disgruntled status. This is about my current work of fiction. I haven’t posted in awhile and I wanted to say hello, I am still here, thanks for hanging in there with me, but for what purpose. I have no story for you. In fact, it isn’t even halfway done. BUT…I could give you some of it now? Thus we get to the relevance of the title. Would you rather get the unedited first two chapters/segments now? Or wait until I complete the whole story and receive it as a lump dump (I enjoyed that). I can tell you this much for sure, it will be fairly long, at least in terms of short stories, might even be on the novella side of things, but it has me excited.

At the end of this post I will include a poll. I encourage you all to vote. If you say you want it now, then you shall have it and I can get some immediate feedback. And if you say wait for gold (hoping that it does in fact turn into gold), then we’ll wait. If no one votes, which I expect to be what actually happens, I mean we have to be realistic here,  I have 21 followers and how many of you really get into this type of post? I would wager not many, but I don’t know you. If no one votes, I will wait, so what I am saying is, if you want it now you have to earn it. If you want to wait, that is fine too. Instead, I will just write a review for my website or tell you some other random story about my personal life.

I have a post in mind for this blog entitled “Mr. MOM, My Life As A Stay At Home Dad”.  I think it will turn up some interesting events and emotions. I’ll tell you one thing, it has been an interesting ride so far. I felt the unmistakable urge to just start weeping while we were watching the lion king earlier. That never happened before? In my head it was like, WTF is happening to me! I am about to cry. We quickly turned it off and began to play dinosaurs and Batman.

Alright, enough of all that before I ruin that other post. That was going to be one of my punchlines. I am finished here. I will leave you with the poll and return to working on the story while Dexter sleeps. Nap time will be over soon anyway. Thanks to all of you who read this. Its pretty cool that you care.

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Flash Fiction: The End

This is another old gem. I believe it was my first attempt, maybe second, at flash fiction. Its a story about an old man. I think the original title was the old man, but I thought it cheesy or something. Reading it now, it seems so short, but thats the whole point of flash fiction. So enjoy the short little read.

 

The End

The dark staircase creaked as he crept down to the basement. The even whoosh-whoosh of the washing machine was comforting to him. He reached for the light as he entered the room. A dim bulb blinked on above him. There was a small table across the room from the washer-dryer combo. It was his work station. Many hours of his life had he spent there on various projects.

            Upon reaching the desk he flipped a switch and flooded the table with greenish light. In the center of the table was a small wooden box, mahogany. A small latch hung on the front held shut by a tiny lock.

            The old man removed the key from a leather strap that he kept around his neck and placed it next to the box on the table. Then he noticed his hands had begun to shake, trembling ever so gently. Outside the night was cold and the wind was blowing. If not for the steady whoosh-whoosh of the washer, he could hear it howling, almost calling his name.

             The box on the table seemed to be staring at him, waiting patiently. He picked up the key. The washer stopped shaking and the room was silent for a moment. The old man put the key inside the lock and opened it. He pulled the small lock off and unhinged the latch. His hands were still shaking. He opened the box. A purple velvet cloth filled the inside and folded over the top of its contents. His hands were shaking harder now and he reached down into the box.

            His wife had gone years ago. Cancer had taken her. His only son had died two days earlier in a car accident. He had no living family or friends. No reason to go on at all. He was old and lonely and ready for it to be over. From beneath the velvet cloth, he pulled the .35. He put it in his mouth and thought of his wife and son. Then he pulled the trigger. The washer clicked off the spin cycle and the only sound left in the room was the wind, calling his name.