Michele Archives

September 26, 2006

Michele: Extrication

He pushed her against the bathroom wall. The cold tile against her back startled her and she let out a gasp that he pretended was excitement. He leaned in harder and moved his hand under her shirt.

She was too drunk to fight him off. Nausea fought with fear in her stomach. Too drunk. Her body wanted to slide down the wall until she reached the floor. His weight held her up. Pinned.

He pushed his tongue past her lips. She tasted cigarettes and gin. The nausea/fear fight was over. He gagged, moved off her.

She walked.

Timing is everything.

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September 27, 2006

Michele: Montana

Alone. The way he liked it. It was just a little space deep in the woods but it was all he needed.

No people. No phone. No tv. No distractions as he got down to the business of what he came here for.

He heard the occasional noise outside and got paranoid a couple of times, but it turned out to be animals.

No one knew he was here. They would know later. But not yet.

Things to be done first.

A cold wind blew in the broken window.

He pulled up his sweatshirt hood and began composing his note.

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September 28, 2006

Michele: Invaders

Hundreds of them appeared in the sky, lined up in a perfect formation.

The more I shot them, the faster they moved down. I’d zap an entire row. Another would appear.

Their bombs and rays poured down on our ships. I watched my entire fleet disintegrate before me.

I was tired and my fingers ached but I shot at those bastards until there was one lone fucker left. I took aim at him, but he was moving so fast I couldn’t get a beam on him. And then he hit me.

I wanted revenge.

But I was out of quarters.

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September 29, 2006

Michele: Unraveled

The instructions were simple and I followed them exactly. They weren't written instructions, per se, but more or less unspoken rules for something like this. If relationships came with instruction tags, there would be only these words: Handle With Care.

So I did. Those three words pack a lot in them. It's not so much what they say, but what they mean.

I took those instructions to heart. I did everything they implied, and even some things they didn't. I really went above and beyond that. It's just what I do.

Handle with care.

I did.

Still, it fell apart.

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October 2, 2006

Michele: Might as Well Jump

Guy in black on the right. Guy in red shirt on the left.

They came at me so fast my mind only registered something about a checkerboard before I realized they had guns pointed.

I was standing on top of a ladder, hanging the pinata for my daughter's birthday. Great time for a home invasion, eh? Barney hanging from my hands. Red and black coming at me, armed and dangerous.

I stared down. red and black. Checkerboard.

Jumped off the ladder, over their heads and ran out the door before they could turn their guns on me.

King me, bitches.

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October 3, 2006

Michele: In The Still of the Night

I don’t want to go back to sleep. Sleep is where the dreams are. And dreams are where the reminders are. Monsters shaped like failure that stalk me all night long. Dark alleys and dead ends and old friend with stab wounds in their back from knives I’ve sharpened.

So I don’t sleep anymore. I’ve been awake for three days now. Afraid to hit the pillow. Afraid of my brain showing a movie that reenacts every wrong turn I took. Every bad choice I made.

I hate my bed.

Monsters shaped like failure.

That’s what keeps me up at night.

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October 4, 2006

Michele: To Spite My Brain

People who don't know what it's like to to be this way always think it would be cool.

It gets old quick. Especially when people always want to interview you and observe you and study you.

I got tired of being the missing link to someone's Nobel Prize quest.

Yes, I can feel colors. I can run my hands over a table and see a rainbow explode from it. My fingers have eyes.

No, I can't explain it to you.

But they were relentless.

So I cut off my hands.

But now, each time my wrists throb in pain, I hear music.

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October 9, 2006

Michele: God Damn It

I tried to be careful. I mean, look at what I was entrusted with. It’s not every day you’re given the key to the gates of Hell. I couldn’t use it, he just wanted me to hold it for ten minutes while he went outside to smoke. Even Satan has to obey that law.

He shouldn’t have been carrying the key around, but he uses it to pick up chicks. He thinks they like his dark power. This ain’t my fault.

I stuck the key in my pocket. How the fuck did I know I had a hole in there?

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October 10, 2006

Laurence: The Dotted Line

Diva Chandelier and the record company fought for years, but in the end her army of lawyers fell to the combined might of the entire music industry.

The facts were clear: she had defaulted on an exclusive billion-dollar ten album, five concert tour deal.

But what was worse was that she had taken to singing in public... for free.

"A contract is a contract," said the judge from inside the record company's pocket. "Judgement is for the plaintiff, the defendant will surrender her voice."

Her last public statement before going into the clinic for forced cauterization was a profanity-laden curse.

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October 12, 2006

Michele: Cut Scene

“Climb every mountain........”

Oh Jesus H. Who told her she could sing? I swear to christ if I have to sit through one more audition I’m gonna go on a killing spree. I didn’t sign up to be the fucking school play director. I’m a high school math teacher, not a miracle worker.

“I wrote my own monologue.”

Well whoopdiefuckingdo for you, missy.

“The azure meadow was peopled with flowers.....”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Bad actress. Worse writer. I’d sell my fucking soul to get out of this.

“My audition piece is from the movie Showgirls.”

I love my job.

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