When Lightning Strikes Twice

Here's a quick excerpt from a short story I'm wrapping up, for now. Definitely something I'll be continuing to work on as a larger piece...

When Lightning Strikes Twice.

Children are crying while their mothers try to quiet them down. The teenage barista spills yet another cup, her third attempt to make me one simple espresso, as she fumbles clumsily around the machinery. Her brown hair is done up in a bun and I can tell she had put a lot of time into her make up; but now her mascara bleeds down her face with her tears. The last thing she expected to happen today was a coffeehouse takeover by a supervillain. Supervillain, what a laughable moniker—but, he calls himself a Superhero so I play the game. Luckily, it’s game over today.

It is like a jungle in here; fake plants beside every table, trees hanging from the ceiling, vines tangled about. I can see the courage boiling up in the eyes of the man at the corner table. He is clenching and unclenching his fist, planning just how he’s going to be a hero today. He has a wrestler’s build but his balding head and the vine draped over his left shoulder make it hard to take him seriously. The espresso tastes like shit so I throw it away and make my way to the large store front windows. With my back turned he sees his opportunity. He rushes, but in one swift motion I turn, side step his advances, and put my knee right into his gut. He falls to all fours, searching for breath he won’t find as I kick him in the ribs. He grunts, then collapses on the floor.

“That was foolish,” I say to him and the rest of the coffee shop. “There will be no stopping me today. If you cherish your lives you’ll stay calm and quiet. It is too early to draw attention this way. Soon you will see how powerful I’ve become. And soon, the world will bend to my will. I have no interest in killing my future subjects…” I pause as they hang on my every word; it is hard to resist being dramatic at a time like this. “…but don’t get me wrong. I will kill anyone that gets in my way.”

I signal to my men to bring the failed hero into the back, giving him one last kick as they drag him away. Across the street, the alarms of the World Bank go off on schedule. Only a minute later the first squad cars show up, also on schedule. It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of the force to show up and set up a basic perimeter. My men have successfully established themselves in a high stakes hostage situation. With the amount of ammunition I have provided for my men, this little standoff with the local police could play out for hours, maybe even days. But, this is the dawn of a new day and it won’t last long at all. News vans swarm in from all directions, ready to make a spectacle of the situation. Anchors and cameramen scramble to situate themselves close enough to cover the story, staying just beyond the perimeter of harm’s way. Channel 5, Channel 7. ABC, CBS. They’re all here. Little do they know they’re about to break the story of a lifetime.

Their broadcasts will fill the national media and people all over the country will watch, some praying for the safe release of the hostages, others pretending that they don’t want to see a violent shootout. However, this will not be a matter for just the local law enforcement. As word spreads, there is no doubt that he will rear his ugly head. Sergeant Supreme will parachute down, ready to diffuse the situation with minimal casualties or collateral damage. And on any other day he would succeed. Any other day, he would defeat my men, secure the safety of all the hostages, and continue to be worshipped as the “great” hero of this nation. But today is not any other day. Today is my day. Today, Sgt Supreme dies. Today, I, Dark Nimbus, will kill Sgt Supreme.

~~~

Thanks for your time. This has been an All Smiles Production.

Starting the conversation...

The act of writing is an art of personal expression. It is an opportunity for the writer to share what’s on their mind; their observations, their beliefs, their message—whether it be a simple passing thought or something weighing on the brain, something fully developed over time or something they just feel the need to blurt out. But, while it is sometimes important to consider the intentions of the author, the most important part of writing is the reading.

As a reader, whether you’re part of an audience of millions or an audience of just one, you are engaging in a conversation with that writer. No matter what the writer had in mind when writing, each reader brings a different view to the table. That is the true beauty of the individual. And it is only by critically engaging with a work that a reader can find the meaning within a text. To do a critical reading is to fully participate with the material; read every word, read it twice, ask questions, look up words you don’t know… really process what is in front of you.

It is so essential to read critically these days because it is necessary to fully understand the texts around you. With the advent of the age of information and technological connectivity, we are increasingly subject to a barrage of texts and it is important to be a part of the conversation. You can, and should, read everything critically. Not just books and poems, but songs and movies, newspapers, commercials, even cereal boxes. Accept nothing at face value but analyze it. This kind of critical thinking is fundamental in relating to the world around you, in finding meaning, and understanding relations.

I try to exercise this critical engagement at every chance possible. It has been an immense part of my development as a student, as a writer, and as a person. By always seeking to understand I discover a lot about myself by simply what sticks out to me. What interests me? What kind of questions do I have? What emotions and meaning arises from a text.

For me, this blog is a chance for me to contribute to the greater conversation that is taking place around us. I will be posting a wide assortment of material; snippets of short stories I’m working on, maybe a poem or a song, shameless plugs of a television show that I write and produce (thedebonaires.wordpress.com), or random observations I want to share. It may be my writing or someone else’s work that has caught my attention. This blog will be my way of collecting and sharing the creative ramblings that flow from my pen. Instead of keeping them within the pages of my notebook, they will now be readily available on the internet.

To start it off, here’s one of my favorite poems. Engage with it:

Q & A by Kenneth Fearing

Where analgesia may be found to ease the infinite, minute scars of the day;

What final interlude will result, picked bit by bit from the morning's hurry, the lunch-hour boredom, the fevers of the night;

Why this one is cherished by the gods, and that one not;

How to win, and win again, and again, staking wit alone against a sea of time;

Which man to trust and, once found, how far—

Will not be found in Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John,

Nor Blackstone, nor Gray's, nor Dun & Bradstreet, nor Freud, nor Marx,

Nor the sage of the evening news, nor the corner astrologist, nor in any poet,

Nor what sort of laughter should greet the paid pronouncements of the great,

Nor what pleasure the mulitudes have, brining lunch and the children to watch the condemned to be plunged into death,

Nor why the sun should rise tomorrow,

Nor how the moon still weaves upon the ground, through the leaves, so much silence and so much peace.

Beautiful. Thanks for your time and now go on, surf the web, read a magazine, go outside, but remember to give the world your full attention. And I hope you come back soon to see what else makes its way onto the blog.

This has been an All Smiles Production.