alternate story

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hi folks, i am going to be out of pocket for a few weeks, as if you would even notice…

here is a little longer story that i did for jeffrey hite’s writing podcast GreatHites; this is my first attempt at a story that is longer than 100 words… i hope you like it. check out what jeff is doing, and feel free to participate: http://GreatHites.blogspot.com

when i return, i hope to share some lovely pictures of foreign lands…

JERRY

Jerry knew what was what in the world.

Sure, he had wanted to go to college, but his grades weren’t so good in high school, so he thought he’d work for a few years. Uncle Joe got him a job as a laborer on construction sites, but Jerry knew he could do better than that. Paying attention, he made sure he was in the right spot when the carpenter’s helper showed up drunk, and then he started making real money. Everything was going as planned until Mary got pregnant, and school was put on permanent hold.

The years rolled by…

Jerry was known for running a tight crew and keeping his work zone clean; it was a “Tidy Friday” that he came across a neon green tape measure. He picked it up and placed it in the roll-around toolbox. Funny, he couldn’t remember who it belonged to, but the guy who lost it would have a better chance of finding it in there.

And there the tape sat for months.

The building exterior was finished as the trees dropped their last leaves. There had been the usual layoffs, but Jerry had been able score the gravy job of interior rough stud walls, and could keep a few of his A-team together, at least for the next few months. And, Jerry wasn’t running the dry wall crew. Galvanized steel beat gypsum any day, hands down. Good thing too, because he was on a regular diet of Ibuprofen and cigarettes. Much more heavy lifting and he’d be done for. It wasn’t rocket science, but if he didn’t pay attention to being plumb and square, all the other trades, the sheetrockers, the electricians, the plumbers, the painters, would drag his name through the dirt. Reaching down for his tape,  Jer accidentally flipped it off his tool belt, and watched it plummet through an unfinished HVAC penetration to the floor below.

He sent his apprentice after it, but the hard impact damaged the spring, and now it would not recoil.

“Dammit, not what I need today; the sparkys will be here to pull the electrical tomorrow, and we got to get these walls done. Is that goofy green tape still in the job box? Go get it, and while you’re there, grab me a few Tums.”

Jerry and his apprentice started to lay out the new walls, and everything was normal ‘til just before break. The apprentice pulled the tape, walking to the projected corner. Jerry watched the numbers, then called out –“Ho…” Double checking the tape, though, he didn’t see numbers, instead, there was a message: Your girls will marry well.

“What the… “

Jerry blinked, refocusing his eyes; he wouldn’t let his apprentice see his confusion. That’s what he thought – “Yea, mark it 16’4”. There was minor twinge in his left arm, but he ignored it. “Come on, let’s eat.” he said, mostly to cover for the strange feeling he was starting to have. He hadn’t really seen that, had he?

“You alright, Jer? You don’t look so good…”

“I’ll be ok after break”

30 minutes raced by. Jerry still felt odd, but the walls weren’t going to build themselves, He sent his apprentice out again. And again there was a note: Mary will be ok. Every dimension, there was another reassuring fragment.

The house is paid for.
The girls will go to college.
Your investments are sound.

But his anxiety continued to mount, and he was starting to sweat.
One last wall and they’d be done. Jerry dreaded looking down.

You did a good job. You measured up.

Jerry jerked the taped as he collapsed.
Now the green tape too, was broken, and wouldn’t recoil.

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i was traveling during this weeks challenge – so there was more time for the mind to wander…

here are two stories that didn’t get produced….

VERBOTTEN

Don’t.
Don’t do that; Don’t touch that. Don’t even go there.
LALALALALA I’m not paying attention…

You’re asking for trouble, big boy .
If that gets out, life will end as you know it.

Need to talk? Fine.

Who scored what last weekend? Great.
Polyamorous Relationships? OK.
BDSM? You know what that means? Really?  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

What is taboo?
Politics more than a month before the elections.
Shop talk in the lunch hall.
Any mention of your starting wage to any of the old timers….
Wondering aloud if there is a God.

Verbotten.
Underscored. Twice.
_________
TABOO

Taboo struts onto the stage in her schoolgirl outfit.
It’s  late Tuesday afternoon, and the club is going to be slow.
Big Dave is at his post by the door, the other girls are working the few Johns in the joint.
“Damn I hate this job,” thinks T as she grinds her hips to the music. “Too bad it’s the quickest way to make a little cha-ching. Yoga seem to be paying off.
And I hate working  these northern industrial towns. I can’t wait for summer to be over and to get back to teaching  3rd grade in Florida.”

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“What happened here?” asked Jackie Joystick.

“Dunno,” I replied.

“His name’s Angelo Fabuloso — we all knew him as Freaky Frank.
Loved to dress snazzy; tons of costumes… serious skin habit, though.
Different one every day of the month; hair and shoes to match.
Big paid-for mansion. Never saw him build anything.
Made his money gambling. After August, though…”

Jackie kicked the dried shell of the dead avatar,
scattering ones and zeros in the breeze.

“Must have hemorrhaged all his Lindens…

My guess, his RL girlfriend kicked him out,
and now he’s taken a fulltime job with lots of overtime.”

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