The Strange Library of King Crazy

Short Stories and other bits and bobs from Donald Hallene III

[kingcrazylibrary]

NOW I AM STONE

NOW I AM STONE

a short story by Donald Hallene III

Down in the park, just past the old willow tree that sways in the wind, near the old bridge that is covered in moss, is a statue. It’s hard granite form is that of a young woman, her hand held out, seeking something, her eyes unblinking, even in the harshest sun.

If you asked the people of the town, they’d say they didn’t know how the statue got there, only that it had been there as long as they could remember, extending a hand to those who passed by. I know how the statue got there; I saw it in a dream once. Perhaps that’s not good enough for you, dear reader, but it’s good enough for me.

The statue wasn’t always a statue.

It was a woman.

She was often seen in the park, feeding the ducks, conversing with trees, and on Sunday afternoons, she would stand on a box, and pretend to be a statue. Cake makeup on her face, she would stand as still as possible, her hand outstretched.

Waiting for someone to take hold.

To love her.

The town found her to be a curiosity, most choosing to ignore her and go about their business. Some found her amusing and scattered coins at her feet, while other shouted rude remarks. She often went home with tears having worn away the makeup.

One summer afternoon, the sun was blazing. It was a Sunday, so she stood on the box, and waited for a hand. A person.

To love her.

They did not come. Not even a penny was left at her feet, and she could barely see, the melting makeup stinging her eyes. A loud shot broke her concentration, and for the first time, she flinched, her illusion gone.

“Get a job.” Shouted a young man with a greasy mop of ginger hair. He tossed a stone that struck her right above her right eye. Blood slipped out of the small wound, and dripped down her face. In that moment, she felt rage, sadness, and lonliness stronger than you or I will ever feel in our lives, I think.

That’s when it happened.

She stood up straight, held her hand out, smiled. She shouted “Now I am stone!” With that, she became a statue. Her flesh replaced by hard rock, her eyes staring straight ahead, the small cut on her brow remaining. The base of the statue had a small plaque that read,  “I Love You.”

The people of the town didn’t know where the statue came from, or why it was there, but what they did know is that they were strangely compelled to look.

To stare into her eyes.

To admire her smile.

To sing songs to her.

To leave flowers in her open hand.

To love her.

[kingcrazylibrary]

We are Boston. We are Strong.

Yesterday, I woke up early. I don't know why, but I did. I puttered around the apartment and wrote some pages for my film script. At around 10:30, I debated going down to see the end of the Boston Marathon. I love a big celebration, and in Boston there are few bigger than the Marathon. I decided against it, as I was already quite late in getting started, and decided to use the day off from school to catch up on some sleep instead. I would head down to the corner of Beacon and Harvard later to cheer on some of the last few making their way towards Copley. 

I awoke again at 2:30, and surfed the web, just enjoying a relaxing day, and then I heard helicopters. Loud ones, and they were numerous. I happened to see on Twitter that someone mentioned an explosion. I though "Oh no. not here, please." 

Perhaps that was selfish of me. Boston means a lot to me, more than most people would know. I wasn't raised in Boston, but it was always a beacon of importance to me. When I was young, I had heart surgery at Boston's Children Hospital, at a time when that was rare.Boston saved my life. I could look out the window from my hospital room and see the field at Fenway Park, lit up brightly during the games, I could see the skyline in all it's glory. It wasn't a just a city to me, it was something more. It's why I moved here, and chose to go to school here. I love this city. 

Which is why yesterday it hurt to see my city wounded. Innocent lives were lost because of someone's selfish, stupid actions. I sat in my room, and I wept. It almost felt silly, and even as I type this, I find tears in my eyes. Isaw the photos and the videos, and my heart broke to see such devastation on streets I've walked a hundred times. I sat in my bed until early in the morning, contemplating what had happened, and I came to a conclusion. 

This city and it's people are strong. Our president said as much, and he was right. Yesterday I saw humanity spring to life and action to do whatever it could to help. I saw people offering floor space and bed spaces to runners displaced by the events, I saw people using Google to help locate friends and loved ones, and the people who helped Google set that up.i saw a Boston area musician use her Twitter prowess to spread news and information. I saw brave men in uniform run towards an explosion, tearing metal and wood away to save lives. I saw other cities offer their solidarity in these times, cities we've had friendly rivalries with, I saw people helping people. I saw goodness in the world. 

My city is strong, my city will heal. 

We are Boston. 

[kingcrazylibrary]

Welcome to Karfax

(This is a new short story, partially inspired by a conversation with a friend. It's a little humor with a lot of horror. Hope you enjoy)

WELCOME TO KARFAX

BY DONALD HALLENE III

(WITH HELP FROM KEVIN COURTEMANCHE)

I fucked up. I knew it. No inspector was ever sent to Karfax without having sufficiently fucked up. Karfax Hospital was a creepy old building sitting on top of a hill, framed by two large weeping willow trees. Driving up to it, I half expected to hear pipe organs playing. Of course, rumors had swelled around the office of what was inside the hospital, but I had never given them much credence. My job was to enter, inspect the hospital, and make sure the staff are treating the patients correctly. Not the hardest job in the world, I admit, but the things I had heard about Karfax had me nervous.

I was greeted at the door by the Head Nurse, who welcomed me with a warm smile. A good start, I thought.

“I am Nurse Elizabeth.” She said. “Welcome to Karfax. We pride ourselves on the care of our patients, so we welcome your inspection.”

“Then this should be painless.” I said to her. She nodded with a smile and led me on a tour. She showed me the facilities, the rooms where the patients stayed and where all their needs were met. A large kitchen, an even larger recreation room, it all seemed standard, which would not last long. Moments later, I found myself face to face with a large man, with the head of a bull, horns and all. He snorted as I walked past.

“Our patients are of a special nature as I am sure you can tell.” Nurse Elizabeth told me. “We take in the strange creatures of this world who have seen better days. Speechless, I see. That’s not a surprise, every inspector thus far has had a similar reaction.”

I just shook my head as another patient walked by, a man with one large eye in the center of his forehead. The brow above it furrowed as he glared back at me.

“Don’t like it. Nope. Don’t like staring peeps. Snatch out the offending eyes, says I.” he snarled.

“Now, George, you know better than to threaten our inspector.  Be nice.”

The Cyclops didn’t seem to care either way, so he shrugged and walked onward.

“As most of our patients are long term, we allow them to walk about in certain areas. This main hallway leads to the recreation and eating halls, so it’s easy for them to find their way there. Those who aren’t as mobile have assistance from the staff.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes at the sight of these odd creatures wandering around. I tried my best to remain calm and professional, but it was proving to be difficult. One who caught my gaze was an old woman carried a broom at her side, her skin a sickly green. She glanced up and sighed as she walked by.

“In me prime, I’d have turned him into a toad just for the indecency of glaring at an old woman.” She mumbled as she headed towards the recreation hall.

“That’s Ellie. You get used to her. Use of Magic is prohibited at all hours of the day for the safety of our other patients.” She said.

I shook my head then turned to the nurse. “As part of my inspection, they like me to chat with one of the patients to see how things are going for them personally.”

“But of course. We had anticipated that so we have prepared a patient for your discussion.” She said with a friendly smile.

“Actually, they like it to be my choice. To make sure the patient wasn’t forced to say anything. Its just protocol.”

“Most inspections have been fine with a pre-selected patient.” She said.

“I understand, but I tend to stick a little closer to the book than most of our other inspectors.” I added.  “And with the strange nature of this particular inspection, I’d like to keep it as by the book as I can.”

“I can respect that. Let’s find you a patient, shall we.” She said as she led him down the hallway and they poked their head into each of the rooms. Finally, one caught my eye. He was a large man, and he looked stitched together of bits of various corpses. Each section of the body was a light green or grey color, having lost all of it’s pigmentation. He seemed to be sleeping.

“Frank. You have a visitor.” She said. He looked up and shook his head at the sight of the nurse with me. He reached onto the table beside his bed and grabbed what looked like ears. He placed them where they should have been, and then looked up.

“What’s the deal, Ms. Elizabeth?” he asked. “I was getting some shuteye.”

“This is the local inspector sent to make sure we are treating you like darlings. He wants to chat for a few moments about the hospital and your stay here.”

“Alright, pull up a chair, sir.” He said as he sat up in his bed.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” The nurse said as she closed the door. I sat down and looked at the man, looking like something out of a strange medical journal. 

“Name’s Frank. Yours?”

“It’s Don.” I said with a hand extended. He shook his head in refusal.

“Well, Karfax is a lovely place to spend my waning years, I’ll say to you, if that’s what you’d like to hear. “

“I want to hear the truth, Frank. How is this place, are you treated well?” I asked.

“Karfax is a lovely place to spend my waning years.” He repeated, looking a bit grumpy that he had been forced to speak with me.

“Is that all you want to put on the record? If there is something wrong here, you can be the one to change it all. Just tell me” I said, hoping that if he was hiding a secret, he’d let me know.

He leaned over, looking me in the eye. “Karfax is a nightmare for the nightmares.” He said. “You want the truth? It’s hell. None of us are allowed to leave, even after our “treatment” is done. The nurses see themselves as guardians and protectors, but not of us. Of you, people on the outside, the normal ones.”

I hadn’t expected this, but began furiously scribbling on my notepad.

“I have been here for 15 years.  I came in for a quick patch up, but they refuse to let me out. I’ve given up mostly, although I do enjoy my little rebellions.” He said as he opened the drawer of the table next to him and pulled out a bottle of beer. He ripped the cap off with his hand and began to chug the beverage, some of it leaking out of the seams on his neck.

He offered me a bottle, but I declined as I simply watched him finish his. He let out a refreshed sigh as he put the bottle back in the drawer.

“That’s one pleasure those fucking nurses can’t take away. Poor Vlad, he used to be in this room with me, they cut off his well…you know.” He said.

“Really?” I gasped.

“Crazy, the lot of them. Sanctimonious whores if you ask me.” He said with a bit of a snort. “I wish I could just walk out the front door, taking swings at anyone who comes at me, but if I got caught, it’d be the Sleep Ward for me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sleep Ward? I wasn’t shown any such ward on the tour?”

“You wouldn’t be. They keep that a secret. It’s the worst punishment one can receive from the nurses. Strapped onto a gurney, not allowed a wink of sleep for your entire stay. It’s a waking nightmare. Enough to drive a monster mad.”

He settled back in his bed and began to close his eyes.

“You want my suggestion? Put down good marks, then leave. They’ll send someone else next time and you’ll be done with this place. Trying to make any changes will just upset the nurses, especially Head Nurse Elizabeth. She’s quite fond of her power over us.”

“I…don’t know what to say.” I mumbled. “I’ve never heard of such abuses at any hospital. It’s…”

“Inhumane? Yeah, well, we ain’t human, so that don’t work so well for us.” He grunted as he took out his ears.

“Goodbye, Mr. Inspector.” He added as he nodded off to sleep.

I made my way out of the room, expecting Nurse Elizabeth to be standing there, but she was nowhere to be seen. I had to check out with her before leaving, but Frank’s statement had peaked my curiosity. As I looked down the hall, a pair of orderlies pushed a large barrel past me, a woman’s head sticking out of it as liquid sloshed around inside. It smelled strongly of vinegar.

“Let me go!” the woman shrieked as she thrashed around, trying to break free of the barrel’s bond on her. Looking closely, I would have said she was from Malaysia.

“Hush up, Penny.” One of the orderlies said as he poked the back of her head with a prod that produced a slight spark. “or it’s the sleep ward for you.”

Her head turned around 360 degrees, and she grinned, two large fangs framing the rest of her teeth. Her head began to rise upwards, and with it came a ghastly sight. Her innards were coming out of the hole as well; fleshy bags of organs and tubing that were shriveled from the vinegar. Lungs, a stomach, intestines, the whole collection were there. She floated above and the gnashed her teeth at the orderly who shocked her and flew towards him. It seemed as if she were set to tear him apart, but a much larger shock came from the other orderly. He hit her right in the stomach, which set her whole form convulsing, dropping to the floor. She squealed in pain as the orderlies lifted her head and placed it back in the vat.

“We’ll see what the nurses have to say about you.” One said as they continued to wheel her down the hall. I felt sick, and I ran to the nearest bathroom, and proceeded to deposit what little I had eaten for lunch in the nearest toilet.  Once I felt like I had evacuated the contents of my stomach thoroughly, I headed back out. Everything told me to leave, but I knew if I didn’t properly finish the inspection, I would be sent back, and I didn’t ever want to step foot in this place again.

I began to search for Elizabeth when I left the bathroom, and I went down hallway after hallway. Many of the orderlies told me they didn’t know where she had gone. I searched in the recreation hall, where Ellie the Witch flew around on her broom, looking broken-hearted as she circled. I moved to the dining hall where the George Cyclops sat eating his dinner, a slop of various meats, including eyes. I ran out into the halls, desperate to leave, the place getting to me more than I could have imagined.

I then saw it; a door marked “SLEEP” in big bold red letters. I hadn’t noticed it earlier on the tour, but now it was plain as day. I pushed the door opened and entered. I was afraid of what I might see, but perhaps I would find Elizabeth inside.

What I found were rows of gurneys, dozens of them, each with a creature strapped to them. Moaning could be heard from every corner of the room. I looked at the nearest creature, something that seemed to have been raised in a swamp. His head lay in a basin of water that his gills lapped up. He gave no sign that he was aware I was there, but then I saw his eyes. His eyelids had been stretched apart and stitched to his face, leaving them unable to blink. His eyes stared at the ceiling, darting around, looking for release from this torture.

Every creature was the same. Male and Female monsters all strapped down, eyelids sewn open, with no refuge from the waking hours of their life.

A slightly younger looking woman with scars similar to Frank grabbed my arm. She turned her head as best she could.

“Beware the Bloody Nurse.” She said with a hoarse whisper.

“A noble gesture, Elsa.” Said a voice from behind me. It was Elizabeth. “But in the end, a bit too late. Are you enjoying my work, Inspector?” she asked.

I turned around and felt my nostrils flare, a sign I was truly angry. “This is a travesty. You can’t do this to these poor people!”

“But they aren’t people, are they? No, and they are a danger, not only to society, but to themselves. They are old monsters, creatures who are no longer as feared or respected as they once were. We make sure they do no harm, either to others or themselves.”

“This is cruel.” I shouted, motioning to the rows of people with eyes held open.

“Is it? Or would it be cruel to send poor Elsa here to her doom at the hands of a torch or pitchfork, or whatever you people use these days.” She snapped.

I turned and headed for the door, furious at what I had seen and heard.

“Where are you going?” Elizabeth asked.

“To file my inspection. I’ll make sure they send you a copy.” I said, almost hissing.

“Your boss had said you were a troublesome one. I think he enjoys sending your kind to me. Karfax either shapes them up, or they decide to be noble, in which case…” she laughed as her jaw unhinged. It lowered to an inhuman degree as her rows of straight perfect teeth began to change. Each and every tooth began to sharpen and grow longer and thinner. Two rows of razor sharp white daggers grinning at me.

“I do miss the days of bloodletting. I was ever so good at it.” She said as she lunged at me. I tried to dodge, but I was too slow for her. I felt the sharp points of her teeth pierce my flesh, and then with a single chomp, I felt my jugular pop, the blood inside rushing outwards into her mouth and onto the floor. The pain I felt from her needle like teeth was disappearing as my life ebbed out of my neck. I saw her lick her lips before I blacked out.

When I awoke, I was in one of the hospital rooms, seemingly inside some sort of life support chamber. How had I survived, I wondered. She tore my throat out. I reached up to feel my throat and saw my hand. It was see through. I could look right throw to the end of the room. I was transparent. A check of the rest of my body informed me of the same thing. I hadn’t survived. I was a ghost. I tried to break free of the glass chamber surrounding me, but it seemed like it was meant to keep me right on the bed, where they wanted.

I saw Nurse Elizabeth walk in, her smile returned to normal. She leaned next to the bed and smiled as she pressed a button allowing me to hear her voice from the outside.

“Welcome to Karfax.” She said with a smile. “We do hope you enjoy your stay.”

[kingcrazylibrary]

A new tale is on it's way. Here is a preview/fake book cover for it. Do Enjoy.

[kingcrazylibrary]

Penny

PENNY

BY DONALD HALLENE III

The last verse of “Blue Velvet” by The Clovers warbled out of an old battery operated radio that sat on a table next to a bed. In that bad, Bernard Trent laid on his back, looking at the ceiling, listening to the song, muttering along with it as a tear trickled down his cheek. He didn't remember getting old, but then again, Bernard couldn't remember a lot of things, and hadn't for many years. He saw a nurse come in. The young woman smiled at him and offered him a cup of coffee. He knew what that meant. Visiting Hours.

His health had been declining as of recent, and that meant every day, he'd find his room filled with people. They were people whose faces seemed familiar, but names did not come. He'd smile and chat with them as best he could, but as he weakened, his frustration at faces without names grew. When is smile waned, the nurses knew he wanted to be left alone. They would usher the visitors out as nicely as they could, and Bernard would be alone once more.

This particular day, visiting hours hadn't lasted more than an hour. As the nurses left him on his own, he closed his eyes, and nodded off to sleep. There he saw another face, one he remembered, one he hadn't seen in many years, one that terrified him.

“Hello, Bernard.” the face said.

---

When he was young, Bernard had the most vivid dreams. Even the small ones were memorable, and he kept a backlog of his adventures in slumber. One night he dreamt of a sprawling city, unlike any other he had seen. Buildings arched higher than skyscrapers and twisted and bent like trees. He spent what seemed like hours wandering around the streets and alleyways of this dreamscape when he came across what appeared to be a homeless woman, sitting on a corner. She didn’t have a cup, or a sign that explained her situation; she just sat there, wearing raggedy clothes that smelled of burnt hair. As he stopped, she looked up at him.

Her face was something Bernard had not expected, and did not expect to forget for a long while. Pale white skin, almost as cold as snow. Her eyes were odd, the right one larger than the left, almost as if it were painted on. She wore a large smile, but it was one she couldn’t take off. Her skin had been torn and sewed at the corners, revealing muscle and gums, framing yellow and rotted teeth. Bernard was repulsed and yet intrigued by her appearance, because there seemed to be beauty hiding under the ugliness of her scars.

“Penny?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

Bernard looked at her, his head tilted slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Penny? Penny for your thoughts?” She said as she held out a small disc of copper, which caught the moonlight, shining bright.

He held out his hand and took the penny, and smiled at her.

“Your turn.” She said, the stitched together corner of her mouth moving upwards.

“My thoughts? Well, I am currently thinking how beautiful this city is. I haven’t dreamed something this beautiful in quite some time. I am thinking of how my life is going. I am happy.”

“And me?” she asked. “What think you of me?”

“You seem odd, but everyone has their own way of being odd.” He smiled.

“That’s putting it kindly. Thank you for your thoughts, Bernard.” She said.

He woke up shortly there after, and got ready for work, logging the strange looking woman away into the archives of his mind. He never dreamed of her again, nor the city to which she belonged.

Shortly there after, he began to forget his dreams. He found this odd, waking up and not remembering what hat happened in his sleep, but he eventually accepted it. As the years passed, his memory began to fade as easily as his dreams.

---

“Hello.” Bernard said in hushed tones as he looked at the face before him. She looked the same as he remembered, the larger eye, the stitched smiled. The only difference was she was wearing a beautiful dress, made of blue velvet.  

“How have you been?” she asked as the rest of the dream came into focus around her. The city from before was now rusted and rotted, age and decay turning it into ruin. Now the most beautiful thing in the city was the woman. Her hair was yellow, like a daisy, he noted, something he had not seen before. It flowed down to her back, and glowed almost magically in the night. He stumbled for words.

“I have to apologize. I wasn’t entirely forward with you in our first meeting. I imagine that you know now, that when I asked for your thoughts, I wasn’t asking for what you thought at the moment, although I did appreciate your compliment.”

“What do you mean?” Bernard asked as he shivered in the cold of the night.

“A Penny for your Thoughts. I gave you the penny, you gave me your thoughts. All of them. Slowly, over time, they came to me. They were lovely, I must admit. Some of the best thoughts I’ve ever seen.”

“You took my memories? Why?” He asked, not understanding what had happened.

“Because it’s what I do. Because I wanted to.” She said simply as she took Bernard’s hand. “I am a selfish creature. I live vicariously through the thoughts and memories and dreams of people I meet. You were not the first, and I doubt you shall be the last.”

“Who are you?” he asked softly, looking into her odd eyes.

“You should ask what I am. In the world of slumber, there are gods and monsters. I am both, and neither. It is what I was made for. I do not know why I was made for it, and I don’t think I shall ever understand that, but I press forward. In the end I am always sorry for the pain I cause. This is my apology, Bernard.” She said. She took his hand and unfolded his fingers, and inside his palm was a dulled copper coin.

“It is almost the end, Bernard. Which means my time is done. How about a penny for your thoughts?” she said. She took the penny and pocketed it. She stepped away, into the shadows, the city fading until at that remained was her face.

“Goodbye Bernard.” She whispered as she vanished.

Bernard didn’t know what this meant, but suddenly his mind was full. He could remember things. Dreams he had forgotten of walking on floating islands in the clouds, of meeting powerful kings of fictional lands, of seeing his daughter’s wedding. Memories flooded back as well. Names to go with the faces, voices to go with the long conversations, happiness and sadness, joy and fear. It all came back. With that he awoke.

Visiting hours came the next day, and he saw the faces of family. People he knew and loved, and at this he wept. His eldest son came up to him and tried to comfort him, but the tears were of joy, and could not be wiped away. He didn’t know how long he had, none of us really do, but he knew he’d make the best of it.  Smiling at his loved ones; he hugged each one, whispering their names in their ears, as if to say “I remember.”

(For my grandmother, Nana. I am sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.)

[kingcrazylibrary]

Today I Bought The Rose

TODAY I BOUGHT THE ROSE

BY DONALD HALLENE III

On the corner that I live on, on certain days, you can find a woman. She is an old woman, frail and brittle. Her skin wrapped on her bones like thin paper glued to sticks. Even in the heat of an August afternoon, she wears a large coat, and as she stands on the corner in front of a greasy fast food joint, she has flowers. She offers them to people who can pay for them with the money in their pockets, and she smiles at everyone, even if they do not purchase her wares.

I pass by her often, on my way to the bus. For a while I didn’t even notice what she was selling. I'd hear her ask for money, and I rarely carried cash on me, so I kept walking, headphones on, music blaring.

Today, I went through my usual routine to get ready for the day. I got up, browsed the internet for a few moments, then showered and prepared to go out into the world. As I grabbed my random assortment of devices I carry with me, I also grabbed a wrinkled dollar bill and stuffed it into my pocket, not really sure why.

I got to the corner of the street, waiting to cross to the bus stop when I heard her voice. “Please buy a flower?” She asked, the words soft and quiet, and yet they cut through the deafening noise of the city. I turned to her, thought for a moment, then reached in and grabbed the wrinkled dollar and with no hesitation, I bought the rose. She smiled kindly and took the flower and tucked into the pocked of my shirt. I looked down and saw a beautiful yellow rose.

She turned away and began to try to get others to buy their own flower, and I decide to continue with my day. I turned to see the bus I was to ride pulling away, headed to the next stop. Sighing, I trudged across the street when the light switched to the white outline of a person walking, and sat down on the bench at the stop, preparing for a long wait for another bus. To my surprise, a bus pulled up seconds later. It was almost empty, plenty of room to sit. 'My Lucky Day' I thought as I tapped my prepaid card on the reader.

A few stops down, the bus was already packed, as if people had magically appeared out of the cracks of the world to wait at every bus stop. A woman with a cane got on, so I stood up to offer her a seat, and found myself wedged in a glob of angry commuters. It seemed my lucky day had ended quite quickly.

As I stood amongst a grumbling lump of people, I saw the door to the bus open, and on walked a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl that often rode the same bus as me every day. She had long auburn hair with a stripe dyed whatever color she had decided on at the time. Today it was blue. She walked in and stood next to me, reaching up to the metal bar to steady herself.

Often I had thought about talking with her, saying hello, but despite being a rather outgoing person, the idea of speaking to girls reduces me to a shy elementary school student.

Today, I didn't have to imagine talking to her, because she turned to me and spoke. “That's a beautiful flower.” she said with a smile. My body froze. What was I supposed to do? I smiled and nodded like a doofus, and turned my head, pretending to be fascinated by the stop request button.

“Where did you get it?” she asked, her smile remaining. I turned, my normal reddish skin turning a pale color.

“I bought it from a lady on the corner of Harvard and Comm.” I said, trying not to trip over the words.

“Oh! I know that woman. She's a sweetheart. Most people ignore her.” She said as the bus lurched to a stop, the doors opening and most of the clumped riders pouring out of the back exit. Seats opened up, and she slid into one and turned to me.

“Would you like a seat?” she asked. I nodded and sat down next to her.

“You ride this bus almost every day, don't you?”

“Yeah.” I said simply, my tongue feeling dry. Why was I so nervous? I was an adult, not a fifth grader. My brain kept screaming at me to man up, but I stared ahead, looking at the reflection of the bus driver in the rear view mirror.

“Where do you go?” she said, trying to make conversation.

“I work at the theater down the street.” I stated.

“What a beautiful theater. What do you do there?” she asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“Oh, you know, sell tickets, pop popcorn, that sort of thing. It's not a hard job, but someone has to do it.” I said with a slight chuckle.

“What's a movie without popcorn?” she said, offering a similar laugh.

“Theater.” I joked, which got a sizable laugh out of her, causing me to laugh in return. Oh, cool, laughing at my own joke. Perfect. I turned and looked at her, and she looked at me, and then it happened. The words left my mouth before I could shove them back in and sew my lips shut.

“Would you like to go to a movie?”

She looked at me blankly for a second, then smiled. “Sure. When?”

I fumbled around in my head for when I'd be free, asking if her if Saturday would be good.

“Sounds good to me. Perhaps we could grab coffee afterwords.” She suggested.

“I like coffee.” I said. It was a lie. I hate coffee, but I could pretend my Hot Chocolate was a coffee, I supposed.

She gave me her name and number and told me to text her, then she noted that I had missed my stop. Cursing, I rang the bell, and stood by the exit doors. She smiled and waved to me as I stepped off the bus and began walking backwards to work. I looked down at the flower and smiled. If I had walked by the woman as I usually did, I would have gotten on a different bus, gotten off at my stop, and nothing would have been different from any other day, but today, I bought the rose. Today, one little thing changed my course, which made all the difference.

On my way home that evening, the woman was still at the corner, and I noticed she hadn't sold another flower since our encounter that morning.

“No other takers?” I asked.

“No, but that's alright. People buy when the time is right. I trust you had a good day.” She said with a knowing smile.

“That I did. Thanks for the rose.”

“No, young man. Thank you.” She said with a smile as she turned and made her way down Harvard Avenue, blending into the crowd as she did. Smiling, I made my way home, smelling my rose, taking in the sweet scent of it's petals.

Today I bought the Rose. I'd recommend others do the same.  

[kingcrazylibrary]

Welcome to the Library

Hello. 

My name is Donald Hallene III. I am 25 years old, based in Boston, Massachusetts, and I am currently in school for Digital Filmmaking and Video Production. I love to write, and this blog is a place I will post lots of short stories and other fictions I see fit to share. 

Stories are Portals to other worlds, I feel, and I hope you enjoy the journey into other worlds. 

- Donald aka King Crazy