Drifting to spring

The rain pelts the ground around me as the memories flood back from an older age. Green grass and vibrant trees stretched out in all directions, the sky was light gray and rain poured from the heavens. The cold had been banished and the spring finally arrived. The sights and smells of spring triggered memories of ages passed, pictures, sights and smells from experiences rushed through my head like a flood.

I followed the valley of green to a great rushing river, which opened into a waterfall. Water cascaded down the rocks like laundry being pushed down a flight of stairs. People said water was graceful but sometime it looked like stampeding house cats trying to get out of their own way.

I felt invigorated by the clean, crisp air and the sound of rushing water. It was as if every Spring I had experienced was linked together through my memories. Like punching a hole through the corner of a thousand photographs and running a string through the hole. Each picture would be separated but strung together by such a small thread.

The weather had always been tied to my memories, the smell of damp earth and the feel of chilly air on my skin always brought me back to spring. The visual marvel of green trees and colorful flowers stand out in my mind like a picture held in time.

The rain beat down like a steady drum and I keep returning to that place, I return to the Spring. My eyes drift to the window in my bedroom to see snow and cold and my mind takes me to back to the Spring.

Friendly Joe

Joe was typing at his desk. Joe was the “nice guy” at work, very polite and friendly. On that Tuesday Joe was in a bad mood. He said “Good Morning” when he was supposed to, he smiled at all the people he needed to smile at and felt like it was a normal day. He didn’t realize the anger boiling under the surface. The stresses of life were kept in a bottle and the bottle stayed in Joe’s guts, then Joe would pour alcohol over the bottle of emotion and stress. The booze would help for a time but when he sobered the bottle of stress would be waiting right there for him.

Joe typed away as his mind raced. His thoughts were on analysis and bank numbers and his fingers would put the thoughts into writing. while Joe worked, Carl the co-worker tapped his pen. The pen tapped against Joe’s desk as Carl would let out long breathy sighs. “Whatcha working on?” Carl asked sounding bored. Joe didn’t know why Carl hadn’t been fired yet and amused himself by thinking that Carl was probably blowing their boss.

“Work” Joe said flatly, hoping Carl got the message. “Work, which is something YOU should be doing” Joe thought but didn’t say. Joe’s fingers typed away and the tapping of the pen continued. “Cool cool” Carl said with another bored sigh. “So I got this chick last weekend, did you hear about this?” Carl asked as his voice picked up, eager to discuss any mild excitement that he could.

Joe didn’t respond. A small finger of annoyance tapped at the base of Joe’s skull just like the pen tapping against his desk. The annoyance grew and fed off the stress of Joe’s life. A dark and insidious annoyance that was the child of anger. “So then she’s bent over and” Carl goes on with his story which was very inappropriate for the work place. Joe continues to type but his thoughts are no longer about work. Carl’s inane blather unhinged Joe’s train of thought from its tracks and now Joe was thinking about the bills that were due, the fight he had with his wife and the salesman that wouldn’t stop calling the house.

Carl’s story continued and Joe’s mind drifted further from work. His mind giving him new things to be upset by, maybe Joe’s wife is sleeping with the salesman and that why he keeps calling because he is hoping she will pick up. Joe shakes his head in attempt to physically shake the bad thoughts from his mind. Carl continued his story and didn’t notice Joe shake his head and certainly didn’t notice Joe’s tense posture and arching shoulders.

Joe had to stop typing and clutched his hand around his face. The tapping of the pen continued and rhythmically burrowed its way into Joe’s mind as Carl went into graphic detail about his night with a female.

Joe was flustered and tried to regain control of his mind but the thoughts would not let up.

The bills were due, too many bills, maybe you can’t pay them, maybe the salesmen wants your money and wife, maybe your kids are going to grow up and be criminals. Joe you are failing, Joe you are losing control. Carl is an idiot. Wouldn’t it be better if Carl died? FUCK CARL. Why do I have to deal with this?! Why does this idiot Carl seem so carefree? Do you get to be carefree if you don’t have a brain? What if I get fired, what if Joe is not worth anything?WHATIFICANTMAKEITWHATIFWHATIFWHATIF

            Joe stood up from his desk in a jolt. Carl stopped his story and gave an annoyed look at Joe for interrupting him. “What IS up, my buddy?” Carl asked. Joe turned to Carl with intense eyes. “Carl, I am only going to tell you once, so listen up” Joe said in a strained quiet tone. “SHUT THE FUCK UP! NO woman wants to sleep with you and if your disgusting stories were true then that probably means you got them drunk or drugged. You don’t do any work around here, your stories make everyone uncomfortable you harass the women here, no one can understand why you still have a job and I am PRETTY sure that you are sucking off the director just to keep whatever shitty paycheck you get while doing no work!” Joe screamed. His shouts were so loud the entire office could hear it. Everyone in the office had a horrified expression as they just saw a lion eat someone in front of them.

            Joe started to cool down but before Carl or anyone could say even one word Joe ramped back up again. “AND STOP TAPPING YOUR PEN ON MY DESK!” Joe shouted, grabbed Carl’s pen and snapped it in half.

Joe was the nice guy at work, very polite and very friendly.