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Lonely Soul [Short Story 2,289 Words]
Oghulk
Tinychat JanitorRegistered User regular
Tinychat JanitorRegistered User regular
Haven't written anything in a while, but here's a new piece I just finished up.
Spoiler:
Lonely Soul
A young man with thick dark hair cut short atop his head and bushy eyebrows threw his leather bag with the initials ‘IAM’ engraved into the front into the trunk of his white sedan. A shadow slowly passed over him, the cloud taking its time in the slow midsummer breeze as it passed between him and the blazing sun, concealing the heat and light from the star from the young man and cooling him off momentarily as the flames dissipated from around him. He looked up into the sky and saw thousands of small clouds with specks of grey thrown in, all at the same altitude as far as he could tell, dotting the baby blue sky for miles into the distance. In the trunk of the car were two leather bags and three boxes containing all his life’s precious belongings. The cloud slowly drifted away and the sun resumed to enflame the young man standing on the pavement of his driveway dressed in the loosest and lightest of clothing so as not to sweat too much.
A crow sat on a telephone wire hanging high above the street, its black wings fluttering against the blue skied background every so often as it adjusted itself in the heat. No cloud passed over it as it stood there gazing down at the young man with blood red eyes, its black beak opening every so often as if to caw but stopping before it muttered a single sound. It shifted itself towards the nearby wooden telephone pole, its black feet slowly stepping next to each other as it took its time, its gaze never leaving the young man. Once it reached its destination it opened its mouth again, this time muttering a small sound, a meager caw towards the young man as if in defiance.
The young man stood leaning against the closed trunk of the sedan, black rimmed sunglasses now covering his chestnut brown eyes as he stared upwards in the direction of the sun at the crow, watching it as it moved over to the pole. When it made the sound he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and a red metal lighter that he flicked with his thumb, holding down the flint wheel as he lit the cigarette he placed in his mouth with his left hand. Letting loose the lighter the flame died and he pocketed it, sucking in a deep breath on the cigarette then released a puff of grey smoke into the air and watched as it circled around in the slight breeze until he could no longer see it. The crow didn’t move. Its gaze stayed focused on the man. It cawed again.
“What’s your name,” the young man asked, the sound of his voice trickling out over the quiet deserted street of the suburb, the sound whispering in the dead yellow grass burnt months before from the summer heat and curling around the yellow-green leaves of the brown oaks that stood in the yards of the various brick houses that lined the street, all neatly placed perfect distances apart so that the outside of each brick house was pleasant to look at and would attract buyers when someone moved out. The For Sale sign gently swayed in the calm wind. He puffed out another plume of smoke from the cigarette, “My name’s Ian. Ian Arthur McGregor and might I say it is sincerely a pleasure to meet you,” he said emphasizing the word pleasure almost ironically.
“Lonely,” the crow said when it opened its mouth again. Ian raised his eyebrow behind the sunglasses and puffed out more smoke, staring at the crow as another cloud passed overhead and a bead of sweat dripped down from his brown onto his nose. The sound of a bicycle came to his attention and he looked down the street to see a small blonde haired boy riding a bike down the black pavement of the street. He waved at the boy but the boy didn’t respond, content to stare at Ian as he rode past until his neck would have to completely turn around to continue to see him at which point he turned back to the road and continued on. Ian glanced back at the crow then straightened himself and walked into the garage and into the house.
There was no furniture left in the house as it had all be sold already in garage sales and to furniture dealers around town. He pulled the sunglasses of off his face and went in each room to check for anything that he might’ve left. He snuffed the cigarette on the ash tray left on the kitchen counter top and went into the bathroom to wash his face. He did so and looked in the mirror. His eyes looked puffy and red and he could see the sweat on his forehead. He pulled back the mirror and grabbed what he was looking for. He wiped away the sweat with his arm and put the sunglasses back on and walked outside.
Another crow sat on the telephone wire next to the first one and looked like an exact clone of the first. “Well I see you’ve met a friend Lonely,” Ian said glancing back up at the wire.
“Soul,” the new crow stated.
“So you’re Soul?” Ian said staring at the crow as he put the object into the car. “Well, it’s time for me to leave, hope the two of you don’t mind that.” He sat down in the car, the cushion deflating under his weight and closed the driver-side door. He put the key in the ignition and turned it quickly, the key hitting the different notches as he started the car and rolled down both the passenger-side and driver-side windows. He pushed a button on the middle of the dash and music began to play and he turned a knob to tune the radio to a specific channel. Latin music played through speakers of the car as Ian stepped on the brake with his right foot and pulled down on a lever putting the car in reverse.
The sedan pulled out onto the street and began to drive down the road. The two crows watched it drive away together then flapped their wings and left their perch on the telephone wire, flying after the car. They made a left turn and flew over a few houses and backyards to meet up with the car when it finally made its turn out of the suburban neighborhood and onto the axis road that led onto the highway. Catching up with the car they landed on the top and the both of them grabbed onto a plastic bar that sat on the top of the sedan for holding objects.
With the windows down the hot desert air flew into Ian’s face as he drove on the highway, every so often passing into a shadow of a cloud that would cool down the car for a moment as the sun was blocked. He drove faster than all the other cars on the road, passing each one by with ease, the engine making a little roar as the car sped down the highway, gaining volume each time Ian pressed down a little more on the pedal. The car pulled off the highway and onto an axis road and made a right turn into a plaza and rode under a couple of telephone wires. The crows departed from the car and flew onto the telephone wire and perched, waiting for Ian to conclude his business.
Ian turned off the engine and left the windows down so that the car wouldn’t heat up. He walked into a pawn shop and up to the counter where an old latino man with a thick black mustache stood. He glanced down into the glass case and pointed at a metal object.
“Hola senor,” he said to the old man, “voy a tomar las esposas por favor.”
“Si senor, de inmediato,” the man replied with a thick accent as he brought up the price on the cash register. Ian paid the man and as he walked out the man said “Senor. El diablo te esta siguiendo en la actualidad. Tener cuidado.”
Ian turned, smiled at the man, and went back to his car. He put the object with the other and started the car, the latin music beginning to blare. As he pulled out of the parking lot another crow joined the other two in perching atop his car. He drove along the highway again for a few miles, passing through the small city with its gas stations, hotels, marketplaces, and myriad of people that walked the streets during the day. The sedan pulled into the parking lot of a tall glass and white stone building and parked. Ian got out again and walked inside, the air conditioned building cooling him off quickly as he breathed a sigh of relief. He walked up to the secretary behind a counter and stated that he was there to pick up someone. She made a few taps onto the keyboard, bringing up the information that she needed, then asked Ian to sit in the cushioned chair next to the wall in front of the secretary’s desk.
He sat and waited as minutes passed by. He crossed his legs, first his left over his right knee then vice versa. He tapped his foot on the ground and began to tap his thighs with his hands as he patiently waited for the man to walk through the sliding glass doors. A moment later they opened a man with a thick brown beard and brown hair walked out escorted by a policeman.
“Well, here he is,” the policeman said undoing the handcuffs on the man.
“Well, here I am,” the old man said looking at Ian.
“Well, here you are,” Ian replied.
The two men walked out of the building to see four crows perched atop Ian’s car.
“Who’re they,” the old man asked.
“Knows,” croaked one of the crows.
“You,” cawed the other.
Ian raised his eyebrow at the old man and motioned at the car. The two got in together and Ian began to drive, pulling out of the parking lot. He drove back in the same direction that he came along the highway as the latin music blared in the background. The two of them didn’t say a word. They passed the pull off to go back to the house and the old man turned and looked back it.
“Are we not going home?”
“Don’t have a home now.”
“What’re you—“
“Sold it.”
“Why?”
“Don’t need it.”
“What do you mean you don’t—“
“I’m moving.”
“You’re only nineteen! Where the fuck are you going to go?”
“Don’t know don’t care, but I’m leaving. Let me see your hands,” he said as he pulled the car onto the shoulder of the highway, stopping it and turning on the hazard lights. He pulled the handcuffs out of the compartment between the two of them and put them on the old man.
“What is this about?”
“Where’s Ryan, Dad?”
“What do you mean where’s Ryan, that was two years ago, do you really not remember?”
“Fuck you.” Ian punched his dad in the face, his right knuckles connecting with the nose as bone cracked and blood spewed from the old man’s nose. The car pulled off the highway and turned down a small two-lane road that followed a telephone wire out into the desert brush. The sun sat lower in the sky now and painted orange across what used to be a blue sky and colored the clouds with orange and burnt yellow. He turned down another road, a dirt one and drove a ways.
“Where’re we going?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
After a ways Ian stopped the car abruptly and pulled the revolver out of the compartment. He stepped out of the car walked around in front of it and pulled the old man out, throwing him into the dirt, the blood from his nose spilling into the dirt and turning it a dark maroon color. Grabbing the back of his shirt Ian pulled the man under a telephone wire and sat him on his knees handcuffed. The four crows joined another crow on the wire above the old man and sat there, perched.
“And what’s your name,” Ian asked the newest member of the posy.
“God,” it answered.
“Well God, I’m glad you’re here to see this,” he said and pulled off his sunglasses to look at the old man. His eyes were as red as the crow’s. “Where’s Ryan, Dad,” he asked again.
“What do you mean where’s Ryan?”
Ian began to put bullets into revolver.
“What are you going to do, shoot me?”
Ian snapped the cartridge of the revolver back into place and fired a shot at the ground next to the old man.
“I love you, don’t you know that?”
“Where is he,” he said through gritting teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his father.
“Didn’t you bury him?”
“I did, but I want to hear you say it.”
“What, that I killed him?”
Another shot rang across the brush and the crows sat there silent and still.
“Yea, I killed him. And you know why? Cause he was a fucking faggot, that’s why.”
“You don’t love me.”
“Your right. You’re not even my fucking son anymore. You’re a god damn fucking faggot too.”
The crows cawed.
“God.”
“Knows.”
“You.”
“Lonely.”
“Soul.”
The crows departed as one.
The sound of the gun shot echoing across the brush separated them as they flew off among the clouds.
A young man with thick dark hair cut short atop his head and bushy eyebrows threw his leather bag with the initials ‘IAM’ engraved into the front into the trunk of his white sedan. A shadow slowly passed over him, the cloud taking its time in the slow midsummer breeze as it passed between him and the blazing sun, concealing the heat and light from the star from the young man and cooling him off momentarily as the flames dissipated from around him. He looked up into the sky and saw thousands of small clouds with specks of grey thrown in, all at the same altitude as far as he could tell, dotting the baby blue sky for miles into the distance. In the trunk of the car were two leather bags and three boxes containing all his life’s precious belongings. The cloud slowly drifted away and the sun resumed to enflame the young man standing on the pavement of his driveway dressed in the loosest and lightest of clothing so as not to sweat too much.
A crow sat on a telephone wire hanging high above the street, its black wings fluttering against the blue skied background every so often as it adjusted itself in the heat. No cloud passed over it as it stood there gazing down at the young man with blood red eyes, its black beak opening every so often as if to caw but stopping before it muttered a single sound. It shifted itself towards the nearby wooden telephone pole, its black feet slowly stepping next to each other as it took its time, its gaze never leaving the young man. Once it reached its destination it opened its mouth again, this time muttering a small sound, a meager caw towards the young man as if in defiance.
The young man stood leaning against the closed trunk of the sedan, black rimmed sunglasses now covering his chestnut brown eyes as he stared upwards in the direction of the sun at the crow, watching it as it moved over to the pole. When it made the sound he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and a red metal lighter that he flicked with his thumb, holding down the flint wheel as he lit the cigarette he placed in his mouth with his left hand. Letting loose the lighter the flame died and he pocketed it, sucking in a deep breath on the cigarette then released a puff of grey smoke into the air and watched as it circled around in the slight breeze until he could no longer see it. The crow didn’t move. Its gaze stayed focused on the man. It cawed again.
“What’s your name,” the young man asked, the sound of his voice trickling out over the quiet deserted street of the suburb, the sound whispering in the dead yellow grass burnt months before from the summer heat and curling around the yellow-green leaves of the brown oaks that stood in the yards of the various brick houses that lined the street, all neatly placed perfect distances apart so that the outside of each brick house was pleasant to look at and would attract buyers when someone moved out. The For Sale sign gently swayed in the calm wind. He puffed out another plume of smoke from the cigarette, “My name’s Ian. Ian Arthur McGregor and might I say it is sincerely a pleasure to meet you,” he said emphasizing the word pleasure almost ironically.
“Lonely,” the crow said when it opened its mouth again. Ian raised his eyebrow behind the sunglasses and puffed out more smoke, staring at the crow as another cloud passed overhead and a bead of sweat dripped down from his brown onto his nose. The sound of a bicycle came to his attention and he looked down the street to see a small blonde haired boy riding a bike down the black pavement of the street. He waved at the boy but the boy didn’t respond, content to stare at Ian as he rode past until his neck would have to completely turn around to continue to see him at which point he turned back to the road and continued on. Ian glanced back at the crow then straightened himself and walked into the garage and into the house.
There was no furniture left in the house as it had all be sold already in garage sales and to furniture dealers around town. He pulled the sunglasses of off his face and went in each room to check for anything that he might’ve left. He snuffed the cigarette on the ash tray left on the kitchen counter top and went into the bathroom to wash his face. He did so and looked in the mirror. His eyes looked puffy and red and he could see the sweat on his forehead. He pulled back the mirror and grabbed what he was looking for. He wiped away the sweat with his arm and put the sunglasses back on and walked outside.
Another crow sat on the telephone wire next to the first one and looked like an exact clone of the first. “Well I see you’ve met a friend Lonely,” Ian said glancing back up at the wire.
“Soul,” the new crow stated.
“So you’re Soul?” Ian said staring at the crow as he put the object into the car. “Well, it’s time for me to leave, hope the two of you don’t mind that.” He sat down in the car, the cushion deflating under his weight and closed the driver-side door. He put the key in the ignition and turned it quickly, the key hitting the different notches as he started the car and rolled down both the passenger-side and driver-side windows. He pushed a button on the middle of the dash and music began to play and he turned a knob to tune the radio to a specific channel. Latin music played through speakers of the car as Ian stepped on the brake with his right foot and pulled down on a lever putting the car in reverse.
The sedan pulled out onto the street and began to drive down the road. The two crows watched it drive away together then flapped their wings and left their perch on the telephone wire, flying after the car. They made a left turn and flew over a few houses and backyards to meet up with the car when it finally made its turn out of the suburban neighborhood and onto the axis road that led onto the highway. Catching up with the car they landed on the top and the both of them grabbed onto a plastic bar that sat on the top of the sedan for holding objects.
With the windows down the hot desert air flew into Ian’s face as he drove on the highway, every so often passing into a shadow of a cloud that would cool down the car for a moment as the sun was blocked. He drove faster than all the other cars on the road, passing each one by with ease, the engine making a little roar as the car sped down the highway, gaining volume each time Ian pressed down a little more on the pedal. The car pulled off the highway and onto an axis road and made a right turn into a plaza and rode under a couple of telephone wires. The crows departed from the car and flew onto the telephone wire and perched, waiting for Ian to conclude his business.
Ian turned off the engine and left the windows down so that the car wouldn’t heat up. He walked into a pawn shop and up to the counter where an old latino man with a thick black mustache stood. He glanced down into the glass case and pointed at a metal object.
“Hola senor,” he said to the old man, “voy a tomar las esposas por favor.”
“Si senor, de inmediato,” the man replied with a thick accent as he brought up the price on the cash register. Ian paid the man and as he walked out the man said “Senor. El diablo te esta siguiendo en la actualidad. Tener cuidado.”
Ian turned, smiled at the man, and went back to his car. He put the object with the other and started the car, the latin music beginning to blare. As he pulled out of the parking lot another crow joined the other two in perching atop his car. He drove along the highway again for a few miles, passing through the small city with its gas stations, hotels, marketplaces, and myriad of people that walked the streets during the day. The sedan pulled into the parking lot of a tall glass and white stone building and parked. Ian got out again and walked inside, the air conditioned building cooling him off quickly as he breathed a sigh of relief. He walked up to the secretary behind a counter and stated that he was there to pick up someone. She made a few taps onto the keyboard, bringing up the information that she needed, then asked Ian to sit in the cushioned chair next to the wall in front of the secretary’s desk.
He sat and waited as minutes passed by. He crossed his legs, first his left over his right knee then vice versa. He tapped his foot on the ground and began to tap his thighs with his hands as he patiently waited for the man to walk through the sliding glass doors. A moment later they opened a man with a thick brown beard and brown hair walked out escorted by a policeman.
“Well, here he is,” the policeman said undoing the handcuffs on the man.
“Well, here I am,” the old man said looking at Ian.
“Well, here you are,” Ian replied.
The two men walked out of the building to see four crows perched atop Ian’s car.
“Who’re they,” the old man asked.
“Knows,” croaked one of the crows.
“You,” cawed the other.
Ian raised his eyebrow at the old man and motioned at the car. The two got in together and Ian began to drive, pulling out of the parking lot. He drove back in the same direction that he came along the highway as the latin music blared in the background. The two of them didn’t say a word. They passed the pull off to go back to the house and the old man turned and looked back it.
“Are we not going home?”
“Don’t have a home now.”
“What’re you—“
“Sold it.”
“Why?”
“Don’t need it.”
“What do you mean you don’t—“
“I’m moving.”
“You’re only nineteen! Where the fuck are you going to go?”
“Don’t know don’t care, but I’m leaving. Let me see your hands,” he said as he pulled the car onto the shoulder of the highway, stopping it and turning on the hazard lights. He pulled the handcuffs out of the compartment between the two of them and put them on the old man.
“What is this about?”
“Where’s Ryan, Dad?”
“What do you mean where’s Ryan, that was two years ago, do you really not remember?”
“Fuck you.” Ian punched his dad in the face, his right knuckles connecting with the nose as bone cracked and blood spewed from the old man’s nose. The car pulled off the highway and turned down a small two-lane road that followed a telephone wire out into the desert brush. The sun sat lower in the sky now and painted orange across what used to be a blue sky and colored the clouds with orange and burnt yellow. He turned down another road, a dirt one and drove a ways.
“Where’re we going?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
After a ways Ian stopped the car abruptly and pulled the revolver out of the compartment. He stepped out of the car walked around in front of it and pulled the old man out, throwing him into the dirt, the blood from his nose spilling into the dirt and turning it a dark maroon color. Grabbing the back of his shirt Ian pulled the man under a telephone wire and sat him on his knees handcuffed. The four crows joined another crow on the wire above the old man and sat there, perched.
“And what’s your name,” Ian asked the newest member of the posy.
“God,” it answered.
“Well God, I’m glad you’re here to see this,” he said and pulled off his sunglasses to look at the old man. His eyes were as red as the crow’s. “Where’s Ryan, Dad,” he asked again.
“What do you mean where’s Ryan?”
Ian began to put bullets into revolver.
“What are you going to do, shoot me?”
Ian snapped the cartridge of the revolver back into place and fired a shot at the ground next to the old man.
“I love you, don’t you know that?”
“Where is he,” he said through gritting teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his father.
“Didn’t you bury him?”
“I did, but I want to hear you say it.”
“What, that I killed him?”
Another shot rang across the brush and the crows sat there silent and still.
“Yea, I killed him. And you know why? Cause he was a fucking faggot, that’s why.”
“You don’t love me.”
“Your right. You’re not even my fucking son anymore. You’re a god damn fucking faggot too.”
The crows cawed.
“God.”
“Knows.”
“You.”
“Lonely.”
“Soul.”
The crows departed as one.
The sound of the gun shot echoing across the brush separated them as they flew off among the clouds.
Posts
Why not, "The crow cawed again and he lit a cigarette." ?
EDIT: Not trying to be nasty, but the vibe I'm getting as I read through again is instruction manual. Things like this: "Catching up with the car they landed on the top and the both of them grabbed onto a plastic bar that sat on the top of the sedan for holding objects." Assume we know what the bar is for, or just call it a rack.
EDIT 2: Other little fun things. You can say "myriad people" or "a myriad of people" but not "myriad of people." And I'm not a native speaker of Spanish, but your grammar looks a little funny. I think it would be "ten / tenga cuidado" as the imperative, not "tener cuidado." Not sure about the "devil following you" sentence either. A good way to double-check is just googling the sentence construction and seeing if a native speaker of the language has ever used it on the internet.
Also, Google Translate is pretty bad with Spanish. The right way to say that stuff would be the following:
"Hola señor,” he said to the old man, “deme unas esposas, por favor”
“Si señor, de inmediato,” the man replied with a thick accent as he brought up the price on the cash register. Ian paid the man and as he walked out the man said “Senor, tenga cuidado, el diablo le sigue.”
Overall a nice short story, although the introduction was a bit too long.
Also thanks on the Spanish. I've never been too great at the grammar with it.