Struggles

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I can try,

But I never do win.

It's hard to hear,

Above all the din.

I look for a path,

But get lost on the way.

I try to calm my wrath,

Try to walk away.

I wish I was free,
To do what I want.
If I could foresee,
Maybe life wouldn't daunt.

I walk through life,
Neither here nor there.
Try to avoid any strife,
But life's rarely fair.

~J.L.

A Walk Home

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It was a grey, rainy Wednesday. It was 5:00pm and Marv was getting ready to go home from his job at Westman & Jenkins' Accountancy. He didn't enjoy his job. He'd never enjoyed his job. He shut his computer down and got his coat from his chair. He had a nice chair. It was one of the few aspects of his job he did enjoy. Putting on his coat, he stepped out through the double glass doors into the pouring rain. Scowling, he turned up his collar and headed up Hamilton Avenue. Water pooled where the pavement dipped, soaking his trouser cuffs. Reaching the end of Hamilton, he turned left onto Hart Street. A green grocers was selling Granny Smiths. He bought one for $1.29. A little expensive, he thought, but he liked Granny Smiths. They reminded him of better days. He chewed as he walked, and pondered. He wondered about all kinds of things on his walks home. Simple things like what to have for dinner, or whether Michelle in the next room would go out with him. He knew she wouldn't, but he liked to think she might, one day. That day however, he thought of only one thing; life. And specifically, whether it was worth living or not. He'd thought about it before, and never come to a conclusion. He crossed over to Norfolk Street and threw his apple into a nearby bin. He thought about people who might miss him. No real friends, no family. The list wasn't very long. His job certainly held no appeal. Quite the opposite.
The rain continued as he wondered what it was that kept him living. He really wasn't sure, and never had been. Starting life as 'Marv' hadn't helped any. What kind of a name is 'Marv'? And he had never been good at coming to conclusions. Sure those little things were easy enough, but big issues had always stumped him. That's why he continued pondering, going nowhere, staying in the same house, the same job. His coat was thoroughly drenched now. He felt frustrated, trapped. He stepped onto Brooklyn Bridge. Marv hated water. It reminded him of how free he could be. He stopped walking, and leant against the railing to stare over the East River. The rain made little ripples in the water. They were free. The birds flying over the river were free too. Even those miserable grey clouds were free. It was then that he came to a conclusion. The first major conclusion he'd come to for a long time. He took his coat off and hung it over the railing. It was a nice coat, somebody would find use for it. It made him smile, the conclusion he'd come to. Thinking of Granny Smiths and better days gone by, he climbed over the railing. He paused, watching a leaf float by on the wind. And then he jumped. He jumped off Brooklyn Bridge. As he fell he felt free. He felt freer than he could ever remember being. He fell 119 feet to the water, smiling. Smiling and free.

~ J.L.

Take The Elevator.

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By myself I stood, in this metal box-room. Four metal walls that trapped me like a caged animal. On the adjacent wall; a red poster about ‘feelings’ flirted with me, it said “don’t hide away your emotions, set them free!” – Ironic considering the current setting. I was stood to the right of the elevator watching the number on the wall slowly decrease until it stops at ground floor. I was going to the basement. With no one around the shop at this late hour it was quite surprising when a man walked into the elevator with me and stood to the left staring at the door as it closed. He wore a large trench coat that was beige in colour; his hair was black and oily, flattened down to his odd-shaped scalp and his expression was emotionless. He hid both his hands inside the coat and due to his posture; I could tell he was carrying something awkward. He glanced over to me for a split second; it was a look that would unnerve anyone. I searched him with my eyes and came to the obvious conclusion that it was a heavy object, perhaps made of metal. The light flickered and turned this coffin-like lift into an even more threatening place. I wanted to escape. The man took the perfect opportunity to look move as the light stopped working, blackness shrouded me and I didn’t know where he was. I took a step back and met the cold, hard metal wall with a thud, panicking, I stopped and listened as I thought I heard a footstep in front of me. He was right there about to hurt me, I closed my eyes and let the darkness blend into blackness, but nothing happened. Quizzically, I stood and peered in front of me to see nothing, but when there was another flicker and the angelic light flooded the elevator the man had gone, the door was open, leading down a corridor. I stepped out and looked for a devil that wasn’t there. Perhaps I was mislead. Perhaps not.

>G