What the heck was I writing?

I was skimming through my journal, looking for something interesting or amusing to post, when I stumbled across this little gem of literature dating to just under two years ago. There's no other explanation or introduction I can give, except to say I was just about to start twelfth grade when I wrote it, so please forgive my humble attempts at writing.


From August 20, 2008, with some minor revisions:

The doctor didn't look up when he walked in.

"Good morning, I'm Dr. Art Chimanski. So what seems to be the matter today, Mr. Unwyze?"
"Doc, can't you see that my entire body is square!"

The doctor gave me a once-over.

"Hmm..." softly hummed. "Well, I don't know what I can do for you. I'm the kind of doctor one goes to if there was something wrong with them, and besides having the body of a brownie, I'm not sure there's anything wrong with you."

I glared at him with sugary contempt.

"Perhaps if you told me what occurred before and after your current predicament, hm Mr. Unwyze?"

"Okay, sure doc," I said, ready to punch my breezy listener in the jugular. "So I think it began when I was in school and my math teacher told my class that we had a very important test the next day."

"I see," the doctor gently mused.
"Yeah. And so, I was real stressed because I wanted to do good, and it was on a lot of stuff that we didn't cover, like Greek linear fractions defined by zero, or something. I began studying as soon as I got home until I went to sleep; about 15 hours."

"I see," Chimanski added, mulling over either my story or last night's dinner in his brain. "So you were forced to learn large amounts of knowledge in a short period of time, inevitably due to your teacher's method of over-stimulation of his or her pupils. Quite a clear example of the quick and impersonal environment we"


That's where I stopped.It's a bit strange to go back and read my old stuff. It's even stranger to not remember having ever wrote it. But I like it nevertheless. Maybe I'll fine some more stray bits of gold in my journal I can post.

One shot written in a parking garage (edited from the original).

The new engine made a weird vacuum sound as Lee threw the car into fourth trying for neutral as we boogied down the highway at sixty-five. Lee mashed the brake pedal. The small Honda jerked forward, stalled, then died as our heads flew forward and cracked against the nearest hard object.

"Lee, what the fuck, man!" I said through stifling moans.
My head was swimming in blurred vision. I was afraid I had a concussion.
"What the fuck, man," I said again.
"We could've died!" Manuel added from the backseat.
"Don't be a pussy," Lee shot back. "You wouldn't have died."
"Why did you do that?" I groaned.
"What if there was another car behind us?"
"There's no one on the goddam road!" Lee rasped.
I don't know why, but this seemed like an odd thing to me to point out.

No people in their right minds would drive on the 10 at three a.m. for no goddam good reason like we were. But for a city of millions, it was surprising how lonesome things became at night, especially the streets. Thousands of miles of paved ghost towns criss-crossed each other in quiet, homesick silence. And as I thought about all this, my mind felt...slower, like I had just woken up after only four hours of sleep and life seemed more fantasy than reality.

"We still could've died, Lee."
"No, you wouldn't."
"Why did you do that?"
"I thought I saw a moren flying," Lee said, solemn.
"A moren?"
"Yeah, a goddam moren."
Manuel and I looked out the window in the starless sky and listened. The balmy air was stagnant. We saw and heard nothing.
"I don't see anything," I said.
"I though I saw one; I'm not sure if it was or not."
"Why would there be a moren here?"
"I don't know why. I just thought I saw one."
I turned back to Manuel.
"You okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, just a little bruised from the seat belt."
I turned to Lee. His face was covered by his hands.
"You okay?"
He stayed silent. I didn't think he was crying, but there was something.
Finally, he said, "Yeah, I'm good. You?"
"Yeah," I said, though I was feeling like my whole body had been soaked in water for a few days. "I'm good."
"Good," Lee replied, looking forward.

Lee turned the car back on.
Manuel was looking sullen on the way back, flashing occasional glances out the window. Lee continued looking forward. We stayed silent all the way home.