Friday Flash Fiction - "Crazy"

(FFF prompt from The One-Minute Writer on 25 Jan 2013: "Everyone said he was crazy. He never acted crazy around me until this one day I will never forget.")

I guess the circumstances just hadn’t been right for me to see it. Until now. Surveying the wreckage he had created in just a few moments, the stories my friends had told me about Joey had new meaning.

Joey and I had met at Starbucks, just a random thing. The Fender T-shirt caught my eye, and we got talking about music and our favorite bands. Turned out he fronted his own band with guitar and vocals. He told stories in such a funny way, mimicking different voices. If anyone enjoyed life, I guessed it was Joey.

I was there a week later with a couple of girlfriends, and in walked Joey. We said hi and talked for a few minutes. Sarah was giving me strange looks, so when Joey left I wanted to know why.

“You do know who that is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s Joey. Seems like a nice guy.”

“Well, you just watch yourself. There’s more than one Joey.”

What was that supposed to mean? Sure, Sarah was into the local music scene, but that didn’t make her an authority. I frowned at her then glanced at Maggie, who was nodding her head.

“Tell me more.”

So they did. These two had heard stories about Joey’s antics on stage with his band. Not anything they had seen themselves, but their sources swore it had happened. My gut felt weird and my skin felt prickly as they talked. Still, it just didn’t jibe with the guy I’d been talking to.

I saw Joey at Starbucks a few more times after that, almost a regular thing. He was always in a good mood and kept me laughing with his stories. The last time we met up there, he invited me to come see his band. Said it was a gig in a larger club than they usually played. If I went, I could watch them play from off-stage. Sounded like fun.

The night of the gig, I got to the club early and went in through a side door as Joey had said to. When I found him backstage, I hardly recognized him. He didn’t look like the typical Starbucks customer with all that makeup. That moody attitude was different, too. Maybe it was just nerves.

No, it was more than that. When they were into the third song of their set, something went wrong. I never figured out what it was, but Joey just went over the edge. Without warning he swept off his guitar, smashed it on the stage, then went after all the other equipment. Amps kicked over, cymbals flying, enough mayhem to make Pete Townshend proud.

And then it was over, just as quickly. There was a stunned silence in the club for a few seconds, then a chorus of boos started rising from the crowd. Joey extended his arms in a mock salute and stalked off stage in my direction. I was frozen in place. As he went past he smiled at me, but his eyes looked unholy. That must be the other Joey.

Friday Flash Fiction - 29 Mar 2013

(Prompt from The One-Minute Writer: Write a love story. The love story must end badly. The story must contain, somewhere, references to bicycles, martinis, and / or cats.



They hardly broke eye contact at the restaurant. Until dinner arrived. Stephen was famished after the day's activities, and he talked through mouthfuls as he attacked his steak. Eve had been so lost in the conversation she hadn't paid attention to what Stephen ordered, but now she was focused on her soup and salad. Stephen hadn't thought much about her order, either, just figured she was eating light.

They had certainly burned enough calories today. The pair had met for an early morning walk with the birdwatching group that had been their introduction a few weeks ago. Following that, Eve had wanted to ride bicycles around town so Stephen could show her the locals' favorite places.

Biking had led to talking about rehab. Eve had moved here recently, taking a physical therapist job at the new orthopedic hospital. Stephen, with his love of skiing, had been a patient in such hospitals several times for repairs. He'd ended up dating his rehab therapist after the last two knee surgeries. Maybe things would work out better with Eve.

At one point during a riding break, Eve had showed Stephen some of her favorite techniques for getting full range of motion out of a post-surgery knee. Her touch was gentle, yet exciting. Stephen wondered if she could tell that his heart rate nearly doubled when she touched him. Her eyes were the richest blue, like that indigo bunting they'd seen this morning. He'd looked for an opportunity to pop the question.

Finally, in the late afternoon sun back at their cars, he'd gotten up his nerve.

"Hey, Eve, how about getting some dinner?"

"You mean, like this? We're kinda sweaty."

"No, silly, let's get cleaned up first, then I'll pick you up."

"Okay. Sounds great!"

They'd talked through the other details then parted ways. Now here they were at Stephen's favorite restaurant. The day had gone so well that after dessert, he decided to pop another question.

"Hey, Eve, um, how about going back to my place for some coffee or something?"

She hesitated, but not too long. "Okay. Just for a bit", she said with a smile.

They talked non-stop on the way over to Stephen's apartment, right up until they walked through the front door. That's when Eve let out a loud gasp.

"What's that on the floor?"

"That's my lion skin rug. My grandpa left it to me in his will. He brought it home from a safari".

Eve's voice went up an octave, "I can't believe you have that thing in here. That poor animal! It's like you're a party to its murder."

"Murder?"

Her arms were flailing now. "You know what I mean. These animals should be living free. It's just wrong to do this to them. I can't believe this."

Stephen remembered something from dinner. "So, does this have something to do with you eating just soup and salad earlier?"

"Yeah, I'm a vegan. What about it?" Her eyes got wide. "Did, did you really eat steak for dinner?", she said, trying to avoid a gag reflex.

Stephen realized he didn't know all about Eve. She made a motion toward the counter, then something whizzed past his head and exploded on the wall. Was that his favorite martini glass?

Now Eve was out the door and headed down the stairs. Stephen walked over and peered outside. He wanted to follow her and try to make up, but thought better of it. Could end up worse than the lion. And it was time to find a new birdwatching club, too.