Blot out the sun

Hanging high in the sky the sun beats down upon the people below. Not many birds appear to be out and none are singing their tunes. The grass is green but clearly shows signs of dehydration, they're beginning to wilt. The passersby on the sidewalks and across the street walk at an unusually slow pace, and the high-end market shopping windows are not to blame.

"This heat is almost unbearable." I announce outwardly as if someone were paying attention. Sitting on the bench I try my best not to think of the heat. Praying on what thoughts had plagued me the night before. One in particular had remained with me nearly the entire day. "I wonder if there's a way to blot out the sun." The thought would seem to be one of a large proportion. If there was a way, it would certainly involve more than a standard form filing. "Perhaps a sacrifice to a heathen god…" the thought popped into my head like popcorn under pressure from the heat of this day. "No!" I said to myself. That's not going to work. No one would volunteer for such a cause. They'd never be around to enjoy it.

"Excuse me sir," My thoughts interrupted by a voice told from above me. Looking up I saw an officer of the law standing over me, his shadow giving my heated body no rest from the sun. "You've been sitting there some time now there sir, think its best you move along." The voice came down on me with more force and less suggestion. I willed my legs to move but the heat drained all energy from me.

"I'm not hurting anything officer, just enjoying the view the park provides. I haven't seen anyone else show an interest in sitting here. I see no point in leaving unless I have to." The words were preselect and shouldn't have been said. It's well known to the people that travel this park regularly that security has no regard for human life. It's been said that they have killed people for the thrill of it. Suddenly willing my legs to move seemed a tad bit easier.

"Well much as it pleases you to do so I'm afraid you look suspicious sitting there for such a long period of time. So unless you're in the market for trouble I would recommend leaving with yourself intact." The words were piercing and cold. His body posture changed to match his aggressive tone. At once I found the strength to stand and I began to walk away.

Turning my head back I muttered to him with forced pleasantry, "Of course officer, and thank you for your recommendation." Walking away with haste my mind was slowly returning to the thought I had before and the heat when I felt an enormous amount of pain surge through my body. Like a thousand needles rampaging outward from the small of my back. I dropped to my knees. "This isn't right," I thought to myself and realized the irony of it all. I knew this was coming, I'd of had a better chance attacking the security officer than I would walking away. The sights in my eyes dimmed and then faded to black. I lost all feeling of the world. Wouldn't be long before I couldn't think, might as well let go now.

She nearly cried

"Have you heard the news?" The old man who sits at the bench every Wednesday shouted abruptly. He raised his right finger into the air as though he stood before an audience. A smile stretched out long and wide across his face so big you'd think it might kill him. This was an act I'd seen played out many a time before.

Keeping quiet as I had so many times before I watched carefully the quickness in his eyes as they darted from spectator to spectator looking for an easy target. I knew his game and it wasn't a good one. First he'll pretend to die. Then when you run over to help him in any way you could he'll revive himself and snatch you're wallet. Just like a shot out of a gun he would run off and you'd be left standing there holding the bag.

"Today is my…" right on queue the old man dropped to the ground and curled up in the fetal position. He groaned a moment as if hurt and then died. His death was a result of medication negligence. That was something most people weren't privy to. Then a girl approached with hast while breathing heavily.

She threw herself to her knees to obtain a position leaning over the old man. "Oh my gosh!" she uttered. Reaching for her phone all at once the old man leapt into the air with spry movement and like a bat out of hell disappeared beyond the sights of the bench where she knelt.

I sighed and walked past her glancing only a moment to let her see my eyes. She knew now what a fool she'd just made herself to be. But she saw in my eyes that I admired her caring attitude. It was good to see someone who cared more for others than for themselves.

So I turned, what compelled me to do this I'm not quite sure, and I approached her with a smile. She was beautiful, and she allowed me to help her up. A single tear was in her eye. I looked at her with a look most sincere. "Don't worry; I know where he'll take it." I said while retrieving a sheet of note paper from my day planner. I quickly wrote down the instructions that would lead her to recover her stolen wallet. As I gave her the paper she handed me her card and smiled. Then she turned and started off following the directions I had given her. With that I continued on my way, thinking ever more about calling her and what I might say. I finally decided though to just throw her card away.

The dandelion

Carefully I pulled up the carrot, making sure not to remove the leaves. They're more fresh when you keep them that way. At least that's what my daddy used to say. I put the carrot into the bucket, making sure I didn't let Chris see. He doesn't like those things, or so that's what he told me. Of course I know my fish can't talk, but since he's the one that keeps me company, I thought I'd give him some personality. Not like that Jonathan kid, who just sits on the bench like a mute. Staring at me like I was crazy, poor kid says he can't see my vegetables or my fish.

Planting my shovel into the ground hard to pull up a weed I can't help but look over at him. I'd think he was blind but it does seem like he can see me. Why then he couldn't ever speak or see what I saw I figured I'd never know. Seems all he's good for is to sit and stare. Makes me wonder what he does when I'm not here. Throwing the weed into the junk bucket I suddenly have a thought.

He thinks I'm crazy because he can't see the weed. My hand reaches down and I pick up the weed, holding it firmly in my hand. I think he's crazy because he can't see what's right in front of him. But should the weed come into contact with him, and then we'd know if it were I or he who was crazy. I turned sharply and let the dandelion fly.

I watched as the weed struck him square in the head and for a moment he looked puzzled. At that point I thought I might have just knocked some sense into him, that he'd finally realized I wasn't nuts. But something in the expression on his face told me he hadn't felt a thing. I watched as he began to look around as though he'd missed what had just happened. Then I knew I was crazy.

I jumped off a building for you but you don't love me.

Starring at the dark night sky that stretches out in the distance above me my mind remains blank momentarily. The flashing lights from the police below leave a pulsing glow upon my face complementing the pale icy look presented by my regret. Vivid colors blur as tears built up once again and begin tearing radical lines down my cheeks. My arms spread like an eagle in flight my only movement is a soft shift as the wind speed increases. Thoughts reflecting recent events pour into my head and my mind tries again to find a different path.

It started last week, without any warning I did something that didn't make any sense. I tried to talk to someone I couldn't, and I knew it. At first things weren't so bad, in fact they were great. It seemed nothing was wrong at all, and perhaps I wasn't going to need those pills anymore, to get me through the night. Then things got ugly fast.

First I made a mistake, assumed too much and said the wrong thing. Someone else had to take it the wrong way and wasn't happy with me being around. I didn't want to go and argued my case. She bought my story but he didn't. He saw through my disguise and knew what I was going to do. I was told I needed to leave, she said she didn't want me to go. He told her to be quite, that was his mistake.

She left him, soon we were a pair and doing things. Then I found out who he was. I tried to make sure he wasn't going to hurt her, I went to his house. He wasn't there so I went looking at his work but he hadn't shown, so now I knew what I needed to now. He wasn't happy and he was after her. I called her but she didn't answer, and went to her house but she wasn't there. I found her at work, but I was too late.

He'd been gunned down outside in his escape, she was dead. What could I do. My mind went over all options, time travel, DNA restructuring, everything wouldn't do anything to save her now.

I glanced down once and saw a detective pointing and ordering a man around. What he was doing I didn't know. They tried to blame me, said I medaled in something that I shouldn't have. They were right, at the time I didn't care. Now I suppose I should have thought about this ahead of time.

The roof door behind me started to thunder loudly. I imagine they think they can stop me, it's too bad they haven't thought about it long enough. As the door slammed open and armed men flooded the rooftop shouting orders I stepped out over the edge. Quickly the force the planet commands gripped my leg and pulled my fast towards the ground. Watching the people stop, blank stares as if in awe filled the street and while the pavement lost focus and blended with all other color and shade I pictured her face one last time. I always knew she'd be my downfall, I just never thought it'd be hers that lead to mine. Mustering one last action before I hit the ground a tear leaves my eye.

She sits down next to me, and asks me why I'm crying. I look at her, recount the vision I just had, and out of nothing but pure love for her I shout in anger, "Leave me alone!" With that she gets up and leaves with her boyfriend while I put my head in my hands and sob quietly to myself.

"What's the timeline password?" I asked

And so it was that there was a means to which I might travel when I needed to. I found it by accident while raiding my mind. Defiantly I rose to the occasion of what could be a challenge and dismissed morals screaming to me that I reconsider... The violent potential repercussions actions can ensue played harmoniously as background music heard only from the depths of my mind whilst I went to work checking the settings on control panel I myself had designed.

If what I was about to do was possible then soon the world it's self would change. Every scope of reality would become a blur and when I brought it back into focus I would find my time had been extended past what could be conceived. It would be 1994 again though in reality still present time. No one else will have memory of the years past and no evidence of it's existence will be left. I will be the only one left to remember and that's my advantage. If however I find this mechanism to have a fault, the universe will cease to exist.

I calibrated the dials one last time and set the unit on the ground. My mind was racing with the possibilities of time travel while my machine just made sounds. Creating such a racket I was sure others might hear I looked around to make sure no one was watching. Assure I was still alone I sat and waited for my program to load. At once there was a beep! I sat there staring at the machine, my complexion froze. I saw neither the past nor an explosion of any sort. Surely I had activated the device properly. Then at once it disappeared. I searched all over for it not understanding where else it might go.

The next morning I awoke on the ground face down in the grass. I must have searched for so long my mind had to sleep at last. At once a box caught my eye and I sprang up to converge on it. Doing so only shortened the time which passed before I realized it was only a package. But then I saw the label. It was addressed to me!

As I tore open the box and removed it's contents I was surprised to find it was a pair of gloves and a hat, from my mother. As I turned confused as to how they had reached me here in the park I was welcomed by a familiar face. It was my landlord, and in his hand he held out documents which I quickly deducted must also be mine. I recognized them before I read them, and knew they meant I was evicted. He explained before he left that my things were outside the doorstep, and I was seven months behind in my rent.

I asked him what year it was, though the answer was quite clear. He explained it was 94' and suggested I invest in a calendar. I told him he was funny and asked to be excused for not laughing. He merely smiled as he walked away. He knew it wasn't 94' and it gave him much pleasure to poke fun where fun need not be poked.

Quickly I asked him why he brought me this package and nothing else. He replied honestly that it was not he. Then he mentioned that it resembled what I was carrying last night when I went out.

Saturday night with Mark and Little Tim

Laughing like there was a stand up death match night at the comedy club with Robin Williams and Chris Rock both telling black jokes. I rolled out from behind the bench as my older brother told his friend he liked her. This was only funny because she started laughing at him. I had tried to hold it back myself but after about five minutes I realized she wasn't happy to hear this, but rather didn't take him seriously. That was funny all on it's own. Take into account that he was head over heels for this girl "friend" of his and it was hilarious.

As I rolled out from behind the bench my brother turned and walked away angry and upset, which only made me laugh harder. He was always doing this, meeting a girl and falling for her. Never did she return the feelings, and two times out of three she'd find it funny. I'm sure the third thought it was funny too but just managed to escape sight before bursting into laughter.

Suddenly though she got serious and called out to him to stop. He did almost hesitantly, as if it was his imagination. The look on her face seemed concerned, like everything that was so funny only moments ago all made sense now. He turned with tear streams in pause on his face, as though on hold until needed again. She looked at him and asked him if he was serious. He replied only with a node of approval. After that a moment passed where we all sat in silence. She was searching his face for something, any sign of dishonesty. Then all at once she smiled, and stood. He smiled too, and they walked off down the park trail holding hands and giggling like children.

I just lay there, staring into the darkness where they had vanished. That was the first time he'd gotten a girl to like him. Then I couldn't help it, I just started laughing again. I was thinking about what she'd do if he asked to touch her butt.

Tuesdays with Jonathan.

As I sat, hunched forward in a gaze. My arms draped beside me and my eyes glazed. I watched him, carefully I watched what he did. His actions astonished me. What ever it was I saw him do. He looked tense, and was always hard at work. He looked over at me, from time to time with a scowl. I think he liked me, like I gave him something to do some how.

So I just sit on the bench and stare at him from across the park path. He kneels and grabs. Then pulls up whatever he has. He'd wave his hand around, or examine something closely. Every now and then something would require him to stand, and he'd take a deeper stab at it, with whatever tool he had in his hands. These tools he used were all in his head, my dad had said. I didn't believe that though. Tools can't be in your head, what good would tools do you there? He introduced me to his fish once, though I couldn't find it in the grass. He told me the fish's name was Chris, and that it didn't like carrots. I never talk to him though, because my dad told me not to. My dad told me he was mad, and that if I talked to him he might hurt me, and I didn't want that. So I just watched him work with things, and stared at him from the bench across the park path.

Sometimes he puts things in his bag. Though I never see these things that he has. All I see beneath him is grass, and I never see that in his hands. But still I follow his actions, and keep a watchful eye, you never know what he might find. Sometimes he jumps up and chases something fast, and it gets away. Then he returns to his work. At the end of the day he brushes off his pants and picks up his bag. Then he leaves, so I go home to eat and sleep. I know he won't be there tomorrow, he only works on Tuesdays.