The Day I Met Her (By: Rima)

        I was waiting in the long line of a coffee shop. I looked at the dull entrance of the store, expecting there to be nothing but the glass door and the hard, black metal surrounding it, but there was a tall girl entering. She was looking down at something; I assumed it was an iPod. She moved her way up to the line, not looking at anything besides the little black screen in her hands. She had long chocolaty brown hair, and I could tell she must have been around eighteen or nineteen, almost half my age. Finally, she looked up and caught me staring at her. Her jaw dropped, showing extremely white teeth. She walked up awkwardly towards me. As she got closer I noticed my face on the screen of her iPod.

           

        She nervously mumbled something about how much she loved my music. She told me how she had been to one of my concerts. I nodded politely and smiled, but I was tired of the same old routine. Just at that moment, I thought of how weird fame was. She knew so much about me; however I knew nothing about her. I had never seen her before, but she had seen me. I shivered thinking about it.  I offered her my autograph, but she refused. Now, this was new. She looked at me with a slight sadness in her eyes. I guess I wasn’t all that she hoped I would be.

           

         As I watched her leave, she waved good-bye. Once she was outside, she untied the leash of her dog that had been patiently waiting for her. I chuckled, knowing that she had left without buying a single thing. I was brought back to reality when the cashier asked me what I wanted to order.  I couldn’t remember what was previously on my mind. I glanced back at the entrance of the store, looking for the same girl. I could see her on the edge of the concrete sidewalk. She crossed at a green light, with her dog trailing a long distance behind her. What I saw next, scarred me for life.

          

          A slick black Audi hit her. I saw her body fly into the middle of the street. Cars honked, people screamed, I screamed. I saw people pull out their cell phones, frantically calling 911.  One minute she was strolling peacefully, legally, down the lane, the next she was dead. The car that had taken her life was speeding away from the scene. I didn’t understand. Was that a planned attack? I ran out of the coffee shop. I looked anxiously around me. What could I do? I could already hear the loud sirens of both the police and the ambulance. Then, I saw her old, black dog walking around her mangled body. I ran to fetch the animal. I didn’t want it to get hit by a car too. I cringed when I got close to her bloody remains. I put the scared dog in my arms, and sprinted away.

           

         Once I had gotten to my own luxurious car I drove away uncontrollably. I didn’t even know what I was doing. My hands were shaking against the sturdy steering wheel. I tried to breathe in and out, desperately needing to calm myself. My eyes scanned my surroundings, but my brain couldn’t seem to compute. Somehow I found the way to my house. I rushed inside, as if I was going to get help, but I knew no one would be there. I sat in the living room, still with the dog in my arms. I heard one of my songs come on  the radio. The last things I heard before passing out, were the soft whimpers of the poor, small dog, and my stupid voice in the background.

Moment #3 Bird Picture

      My story starts in Alberta. I had moved there about twenty years ago because I had found a great job.  After twenty years I was starting to miss Vancouver, where I grew up, so I decided to retire and move back.

     When I returned I felt a wave of nostalgia, remembering the great times I had there as a boy. I remember playing on the jungle gyms as child, I could almost feel the sand in my shoes. I remember my hobby as a teenager, making and selling different decorations. I had nothing but great memories.

     I went to an open house I had read about in the newspaper. When I arrived, I saw the house and fell in love with it. The outside had a beautiful garden and porch. I entered and was greeted by a nice couple. They had two children and seemed like a delightful family. I started looking around the house. I thought it was so nice and with only seeing one out of the three floors, I was ready to buy it.

     I then began to walk upstairs to see the bedrooms. As I was ascending the stairs, the most amazing thing happened. I looked up and saw, hanging from the ceiling, one of the decorations I had made when I was young. It was a wire with birds hanging off of it, similar to a children's mobile. Time stopped as I pulled the bottom to make the birds fly.

     I could smell the familiar aromas of my mother making supper. I could hear my younger siblings fighting over toys and I could feel  the wire I was bending as I was making the decorations.

     I was very curious, so I asked the couple who owned the house where they had gotten the decoration. The women told me it was a present from her father. The women then told me she loved it and that she thought it was beautiful. I felt a sense of accomplishment among many other emotions. I smiled and continued my tour of the home.  

Picture perfect moment (by Cynthia)

Silence.
He heard the odd hiss of the radiator, and the fading footsteps of his family walking down the hospital halls.
He cocked his ear towards the door, waiting for a sound, waiting for a sign. But still he could hear nothing but the hospital sounds and the occasional rustle of his new grand-child`s blankets.
Then he jumped, as the baby gave and gave a jerk, kicking her grand-father with a tiny, fat foot.
"Well you`re an impatient one aren`t you." the old man laughed "Don`t worry your mother only went for a walk."
The baby moved her little fists, rubbing her soft hat and hitting her grand-father`s old shirt with the cold, shiny buttons.
Eventually the old man gave a frown and rocked the little baby, he looked around the room again. The room was rather grey, and it had a yellow radiator and a window that let a soft light filter in.
"I know." he sighed, and turned to the window "That`s better isn`t it?"
The baby seemed to relax, and the old man laughed as he watched the anger drain from the little human`s face.
The baby however, was more concentrated on the warm rays of light that came from the window. She felt loved and and free-as if she were touching the sky. Even though she couldn`t see and refused to open her eyes at that moment, the little baby could hear the breathing of her grand father. She turned away for a moment and squirmed some more-for the smell of denture cream was far too potent.
"Well you seem to be feeling better..." the old man said with a smile
And he too, felt absolutely, and unconditionally loved.

No Ice Today (Moment 3)

 It is 7:42 AM on a Thursday morning, and an old woman sits in a church, praying. A wide brimmed red hat sits next to her on the bench, unfit for the cold weather outside. A tall, dark haired teenage boy walks into the curch, searching for something. When he sees it, his heart almost stops.
 Jack stares at Bella's uneven handwriting, written in crayon, right on the wood of the frame. No Ice Today was a sign she had written in seventh grade, and no one knows what it means. She would turn it over randomly, with no pattern, severl times a week.
 Bella kept her sign in her parents' living room, right next to the fire place, and nobody ever asked any questions.
 But now it's leaning against a stain glass window in a church, next to a green rock. Jack can feel his head about to spin, so he puts his hand out to stop himself from falling.
 He wonders, why? Why is Bella's sign, the one no one could ever decipher, in a church that she never went to? It doesn't make any sense.
 Jack runs his fingers through his hair and turns around, looking for someone, anyone in the church. He sees the old woman, now staring at him, and locks eyes with her.
 "Please," he says. "Why is this here?" Her expression softens, and she gets up from the bench. She walks towards him with a surprisingly strong stride, putting her hand on his shoulder.
 "Did you know Irabella?" asks the old woman, her brown eyes searching his.
 "Yes," Jack's voice cracks. "She let me call her Bella,"
 "She gave me the sign the day before she died," Jack almost cries. Before she died. The words ring through his head and he coughs into his arm, his throat suddenly itchy.
 "Do you think--" his voice gives away, so he starts again. "Do you think she planned it? To die, I mean?"
 The old woman looks at him as he stares at the sign. She takes her hand off his shoulder and laces her arm through his, taking his left hand in both of hers.
 "Did she plan to die the way she did?" She pauses. "I don't think we'll ever know.
 The old woman holds Jack's hand as he finnaly cries.

Unexpected (3rd moment assignment)

Unexpected

Andrew woke up that morning, extremely startled. The sound of his cell phone ringing at 4:00 AM was enough to turn an average day into an unpleasant one. He looked at the caller ID thinking that it would be a wrong number, but it wasn’t. It was his ex-wife, Emma. Andrew was furious. She continued to call at irregular hours of the day just so she could complain about her job, which was apparently why she wasn’t paying for child support. Well, he definitely wasn’t taking that call. He worked so many hours every week so he could take care of Spencer, their daughter. However, he knew he didn’t try hard enough. The divorce had been tough on Spencer, and he hadn’t made it any easier. He had been coming home late from parties, and waking up even later because of the amount of alcohol that had entered his system. Andrew moaned aloud. He turned on his side hoping sleep would take him for at least another two hours.

            That morning, the annoying sound of Andrew’s alarm clock seemed to ring louder than usual, or maybe it was just the foul mood he was in. Whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t even half ready for the continuation of this day. When Andrew slumped down the stairs, he could see Spencer having her breakfast. Her brown hair was tied up in a neat bun and her make-up was already plastered to her pretty face. How did he end up with such a perfectionist for a daughter?

            “Dad?” Spencer called.

            “Yes?”

            “I need money for some workbooks at school. I know, I know. I already asked you last week for some cash, but do you think you could squeeze another $55 out from your wallet?” she asked worriedly.

            “Sure, Spencer,” Andrew mumbled.

He wasn’t happy with all these back to school expenses. If Emma didn’t start paying for child support he was going to pull his own eyeballs out.

            As Spencer left for school, Andrew’s blackberry rang one again. It was his boss, asking if he could work that weekend. It was Friday. He could find a way to rearrange his plans, so he told his boss yes.

            Andrew was making dinner that night, while Spencer sat at the long, black table doing her math homework. Her face was in full concentration, and her eyes were tearing up, probably from all the garlic he had been tossing around in the old, black pan.

            “Spencer, would it be okay if I worked this weekend? I might have to go out of town, but I can trust you to stay by yourself, right?”

            “Dad, I’m fifteen. You should definitely not trust me,” Spencer joked. It made Andrew crack a smile, but he could see the corners of her mouth had dropped into a slight frown. He knew she was tired of being left behind. Her mother had acted more irresponsibly than Andrew had when has eighteen and foolish. Moving to Miami, Florida and living a careless life with her new boyfriend, she really took the prize for that one.

            “I’m sorry I have to go,” Andrew said in an emotionless voice. Spencer just nodded and busied herself with the difficult math problems that she was assigned to do. Andrew set up the table and they ate in silence.

            Once they both finished up with their rice and vegetables, Andrew announced that he had to go. He put his hand through his short, black hair. He seemed stressed, and his face looked forty, even though he was only thirty-four. Ever since the divorce, his body seemed to look and act older. Spencer did feel sympathy for him, but he didn’t seem all that empathetic towards her.

            Andrew said his goodbyes to Spencer and headed out the back door. When was their garden ever going to look decent? He wondered. He got in his red, beat up Toyota. He absolutely hated this car. It always smelled like gas inside, but he couldn’t afford anything better. Sometimes he hated his life.

            The weekend passed quickly for Andrew. It was a whirlwind of taking phone calls, writing things down on post-it notes, and fetching his boss lattes from the local coffee shop. Before he knew it, it was Monday afternoon, and it was time to go home. It was 4:30, meaning that Spencer would be probably be home. He had missed her.

            Three hours later, he pulled into the driveway. He immediately noticed something different. Were their flowers on the side of the house? Oh my God! Was that Emma standing inside the house?

            He could see Emma through the window, talking and laughing with Spencer. Emma’s long reddish-brown hair was down to her hips. She looked tan. Probably from all the Miami sun Andrew thought. He didn’t know why she was here. Maybe that’s why she called him, but then why wouldn’t she call again, especially if she was flying to Montreal?

            As Andrew entered the room Emma gave him a big, comforting hug, and he could feel something slip into the back pockets of his jeans. It was a cheque. Finally she had paid for child support! Spencer sat on the sofa with a huge grin spread across her face. She must have been delighted to see her mom.

            After Andrew had said his hellos to both girls, they began to walk to the end of the house.

            “Where are you two going?” Andrew asked.

            “Just follow us to the yard,” Emma said reassuringly.

            When Andrew stepped outside his heart skipped a beat. Just when he had left Friday night, the garden contained only yellow grass. Now, as he looked around he could see that every little thing had been changed. The grass was a bright, healthy green. There were two small trees that had been planted! Their little leaves flowed in the soft wind. He could smell the freshness of everything around him. The birds seemed to chirp louder and more happily than usual. There were beautiful, colourful flowers all over the place! They even added a nice, wooden bench, and there was a canopy! Everything seemed so quaint and lovely. He thought he was dreaming.

“Did you do all this?” he asked slowly.

“It was Spencer’s genius idea. I just helped,” Emma replied.

“Wow, Spencer. You did all of this for me?” Andrew said surprised.

He suddenly felt awful for all the times he hadn’t been there for his daughter. She was the one who acted like an adult most of the time. He was stealing her teenage years! He was going to have a meltdown.

            “I knew how much you hated it when the garden was sloppy, but you never had time to fix it up yourself,” Spencer said truthfully.

Andrew pulled Spencer into a tight hug. He looked around again. It was amazing! He would remember this moment forever.

            After Andrew was finished frolicking around the garden, Emma left. Her late flight back to Miami was only in a couple of hours. He felt sad about her leaving, but he knew they were not good for each other. They were too young when they got married. He turned to see Spencer staring at him.

            “You look funny when you’re thinking of Mom,” she said.
Andrew looked the other way. “How did you know who I was thinking about?” he said puzzled.

 Spencer had already left the room. How was this daughter of his so intelligent? That he would never know.

           

Love at first glance (a moment assignment by Cynthia)

My eyebrows shot up in astonishment; something I had not felt in a long and pleasantly uneventful incriment of time.
In the course of a second-the very moment my eyes met his, my world- the world seemed to grow profoundly dark.
Then a ray of florecense, a shimmering light, engolfed the boy I was gawking at and expanded into a tube.
In that same second time stood still, awkward and frozen. The Earth stopped mid-turn, tipping ever so slightly on its axis. Nearly completing a well-deserved turn, yet waiting to begin another.
To top it all off: a powerful yet beautiful chorus of cliché angels sang from every direction.
Then all too soon the world resumed its cold, bustling existence and I was no longer alone.
The angels stopped singing like tired babies and the darkness shrank back in what seemed like a secret fear.
Was it love? Was it hormones? Was there nobody who could give me the correct (and final) answer? Maybe one day I could inquire what he saw when he first looked at me, and raised his eyebrows in astonishment...