The 3 o’clock Massacre at Phillies

Mr. Figaro named me Missy.  He sometimes called me Australian cat. Why? I had no idea. It didn’t matter as I had no recollection of my real name.

I had started working for him when I was thirteen. I didn’t have to prove my loyalty to him. He just knew that I was loyal to him. To solve my mystery of working for him is simple. I ran away from home when I was nine.

From the very little memory that I have of home, I remember my grandmother saying, “Your ma shot your pa ‘cause he cheated on her. Deserved what he got.” After that she ran away with her bf Billy. No one knew where to….

Granny was gentle and kind to me. Too bad, she died and my good days turned in horrifying memories – memories that I don’t want to remember now. I was left upon the mercy of my uncle and his wife. It turned out, that I was a slave to their commands. Inspite of working for an entire day I got only two loaves of bread to eat. One night there was a fire in the barn and I ran while everyone was sleeping. I ran as fast and as far as I could. I just remember jumping on a ferry.

I had no understanding of geographical locations and obviously I could not read and write. There I met Mr. Figaro and he seemed a gentlemen to me. His experienced eyes could read my story at a glance. He said, “Would you come with me.” What options did I have… so I said, “yes”. He educated me and also taught me some kind of kung fu. Seems like all that was not for free; I had to work for him.

Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, 1942. Public Domain

I was a smart kid and quickly understood that except for his white suit everything related to him was black. My job was to maintain and keep away the black from white. Easy huh!

Today, I’m suppose to collect something from someone. The dark stillness of the night sky seems… too perfect. It reminded me of the night… when I ran away. Things had changed since then and I was no longer afraid of consequences.

It is routine for me to be at such local diners at odd hours of night and today was no different. I had never paid for the sandwich that Jim offered me but today I’ll have to pay…for something bigger than a sandwich.

“Did you get the message?” I asked Ron, who was sitting next to me as I chewed the sandwich.

Ron cleared his throat and flicked the ash off the burning cigarette over the ashtray.

The next thing I see is a small piece of paper under my coffee mug.

I covered the paper piece with my palm and reached for my wallet. I quickly opened the wallet and put the paper inside. I took out a lipstick and a mirror.

I looked at the mirror as I applied the red lipstick. Also my way of checking if I had been followed or not. I relied on my institution most of the times which suggested that someone was hiding in the opposite building across the street. I was not very sure and it was now that I noticed another man sitting in the bar on the stool.

At the first sight he didn’t seem strange. He behaved normally. He was drinking coffee. His body…relaxed on the stool, his face…calm. Except for looking at his watch every 10 seconds there was nothing unusual about him. But why was he looking at his watch. Was he expecting someone but no one had turned up till now. He had finished his first cup of coffee and now was sipping the second one.

My senses all alert, wallet by my side. Inside was a revolver…hidden, a gift – on my first kill – from Mr Figaro.

Jim asked Ron, “Should I fix you a drink.”

Ron just nodded.

Jim had never been that quick. His hands under the table as he asked Ron, “ Do you want today’s paper.” Mmm! Ron mumbled.

Now in exactly one minute things would change.

Jim in some frenzy had a revolver rolled in the newspaper. He threw away the paper and shot the man on the stool. The man reached for his gun but too late for him. His gun goes off and the bullet hits Ron. Ron dropped like a domino by my side. My gun triggers and the bullet hits Jim.

I was just trying to anticipate the occurrence that had just past by, when I hear another shot – loud and clear. Seconds after, I could feel a burning sensation in my chest. My red blouse was all wet. Thick red liquid oozing out of my body.

All kinds of thought were hovering above my head. My dying wish, “an encounter with my killer”. My heart beat…pumping slow, my body…losing sensation, my eyes…flicking like a fused bulb. Everything soon became chilly cold.

“The 3 o’clock Massacre at Phillies” became the next days headline of each and every national newspaper.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/find-a-muse-in-the-masters/

He knew only one kind of love

His black blazer was kept on the bed along with a light blue shirt and a multi coloured tie. They all were arranged neatly side by side. Jacob came out of the bath and aimlessly threw his wet towel on a chair.

This chair was the only piece of furniture in his bedroom. His idea of this chair was – a companion. He was never a lucky man when it came to companions. The last time he thought of a companion, it was Lucy – a receptionist at his hotel.

Lucy was the exact opposite of his mom. Smart, shrewd, organized, outspoken and witty. He used these words to describe her, when he spoke to Richard about her.

Richard, was one filthy rich guy, who also happened to be his friend. Richard also liked to be called Rick or Richy instead of Richard. He thought it suited his millionaire personality.

Millionaires are of two kinds, only two, thought Jacob. They are either born or made. No third kind existed between the two.

According to him a lot of things didn’t make any sense. He thought that the maid should go on a leave every Sunday instead of a Monday. He thought that he could only tip at a road side eating joint as the waitress needed the money more than the waiters at his hotel. He thought the valet of all the five star restaurants were thieves. He thought that his gym instructor had some connection with the CEO of Google.

Google had dominated a part of his life. It was Google that helped him with his chatting, face book, YouTube and searching for and later translating most of the profanity in all the languages possible.

Profanity was used habitually at his home. Somehow it didn’t touch him when he was a kid but now it turned out to be his favourite pass time.

Passing time was never an option for him when he was growing up. His father died when he was only eleven. Mom stitched buttons in the denim jackets while he saw each blue jacket with lustful eyes.

He decided to work to have money that could help him give whatever he wanted. Wanted was a simple term for him. It meant – more than he needed. Need was…money, food, a nice pair of shoes instead of torn ones, able to read and write. What he wanted was a job, two meals a day, leather boots, education and the list kept on increasing each year.

Education was his primary goal till he became fifteen. For education he worked day and night. He did all that he could and went everywhere that said “Job, Available.” He had learnt to read and write a little when his father was alive. He knew what ‘job’ meant; although, words like available, vacant didn’t make any sense to him. Sometimes he got the job and sometimes he didn’t.

Slowly and steadily he grew to be a man with some money in his account. As a boy he started as a shoe shiner then sold flowers at a local market after which he took a job at a bakery and then he started delivering newspapers. After that he started distributing magazines to the stalls near the big offices. He was fascinated to see the people young and old all dressed in formals – coats, ties, blazers, suitcase, silver watches. He learnt quickly and progressed much quicker than he had anticipated.

He reached to a place where his anticipation had turned into a reality – from rags to riches, he said. He had a few degrees and knew a lot of people. He said, “Work can make a person but not knowing the right people in the business could break a person”. He occasionally came up with such one liners.

He loved one liners. He knew when to give what to the people. He also knew in what quantity and that’s why people loved him.

But he knew only one kind of love – love for his work. He looked at his adverts with loving admiration. The eyes that were filled with true love and passion – for his work.

What started as work for him, blossomed as an art and now had strengthened as love.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/the-butterfly-effect/

Let it shine forever

“Come, with me,” says a voice and I float after it.

Lost. My identity lost. My body lost but I know I’m still there in some form of existence.

I’m swimming through a void of memories and dark and bright pathways. I face darkness first and then the bright white light of eternity engulfs me.

All of a sudden – a last memory – a distorted smile trying to pull me back. I try to wipe this memory clean and see… a man. A Face…young, hair… black, eyes…sparkling. It looked familiar. A view from distance helps me to see another face…a woman, young, black curly hair, eyes light brown. She was smiling and had something in her hand.

“Who is this?” The existence asked the voice.

The voice, “Don’t you remember. It’s you.”

“Which one – the man or the woman,” asked the confused existence?

The voice said, “The woman… of course. Now let’s hurry, we are getting late and the portal will close soon.”

Ok.

The existence started following the voice without any choice.

“Wait! Wait.” She shouted and said, “I remembered that moment. Keith…I think. Yes! That was his name. He had proposed to me. My ring. I can now see in that moment much clearly.”

Good! Now let’s go.

Wait, why is everything getting grey? Why is it so bright, now? I can’t see anything from that moment. Please! Please, make it stop.

“I’m sorry I can’t”, said the voice with some softness in it. He continued, “However, if you want I can let only one thing remain for eternity in your memory – in the same form as it was real. Fast. Time is running out of your hands and mine as well.”

golden ring

Fine! Don’t shout. I choose my hair…no, wait I choose him…no, no. I choose my brown eyes…no.

Fast kid!

Wait…wait, wait. I choose…that ring…the golden ring. With his name inscribed and our promise of love. I ask you to let the golden ring never be black or grey or white. Never be lost in time and space.Let its golden glow be forever. Let it shine like a sun… forever.

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/local-color/

Just another day

Today was just another day for me. Got up had a nice hot cup of coffee. Read the newspaper and ran to work.

Waited for the metro. Jostled through the crowd took a place and stood in the crowded metro. I passed my time staring at a girl’s pink shoes, a denim handbag peeping at me, colourful bright orange finger ring in a hand, high black heels in front of me.

Reached office…swiped the ID card…sat in my cubicle. Everyone was called for the morning briefing. I return to my space and checked my mails. The regular work continued with some hi’s and hello’s and then the lunch break. With half day gone I waited for the other half of my working day to come to an end. Finally the call for ending the day. Everyone passes by and now the hi’s are changed to chirpy bye’s.

Reached home…made a cup of tea. Watched some T.V. I decide to order something from outside, today. So, I called…placed the order for veg noodles. Bell rang after two hours…check the door. That’s my order. Pay him…close the door.

Dinner done. Laptop on…read and write and read and finally feeling sleepy. So…goodnight for now.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/ready-set-done-5/

 

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Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Green

One cannot escape the colour green that is found so abundantly in nature. Here are some of my captures of green.

green climber

The house coated in natural green colour.

Here are some green leaves in different shapes and patterns that interested me.

round leaves

The round shaped leaves.

light and dark green patterned leaves

Here are some maple shaped leaves. What caught my attention was the light green coloured veins running through these leaves.

opposite arrangement of leaves

One of the most common arrangements found in leaves.

Age didn’t matter much

I was a child unaware of immortality or souls. Sat through the Sunday sermons while the priest said, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is and who was, and who is to come. The Almighty.”

I sensed immortality as the same priest also said, “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

The next day I went to watch a movie. An intense fighting scene and the hero died. I cried, for he looked charming. The very next day I watched him on the T.V set. “Mom, he is alive. He died yesterday.” I yelled and thought of Easter and resurrection.

But my mom said, “He was acting. He is an actor. He is alive.” But still I argued with no facts by my side. And my mom emphasized on the word…acting. So, I thought actors act and don’t die.

Rats found their new home with us so rat traps were set to hunt them down. One day, I saw a dead rat and he didn’t jump back to life so it was clear that life was mortal for everyone.

Age didn’t matter much for a school girl. The fact was death would come.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/finite-creatures/

Movie and my part

Here is a list of my favourite movies: The sound of music, My fair lady, Singing in the rain, Matrix, Inception, The Shawshank Redemption, The notebook, Titanic and then I like all Disney movies but my all time favourite is Bambi and The lion king.

Yes, I’m just like you – I love watching movies. I haven’t thought about acting for a long time though (as a child I often thought of becoming an actor). Although, I would love to say that I do posses a little bit of talent like any other average person but acting…now…let me think.

Today seems to be the day as WordPress has given us the opportunity to show our acting skills and I’m waiting to showcase my talent in the movie.

A great movie is a combination of great actors, moving story line, some realistic characters and of course there is massive art of direction and a lot more other things. Me and acting…think about it after watching our dear friend Phoebe from Friends in this episode…I would do the same thing…even worse…and the movie will never hit the theaters or if it did I’m sure I was not there. Here is the video clip. Laugh and Smile!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fourth-wall/

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Refraction – An Optical Illusion

Refraction an optical illusion and a play of light source and the mediums. My contribution to this weeks challenge. I hope you enjoy my creativity in this topic.

An emerging Mother Mary and baby Jesus

Mother Mary and baby Jesus – looking through the glass.

Mother Mary and baby Jesus wrapped in blue

Another picture of Mother Mary and baby Jesus.

Prayer Wheel in refraction

A prayer wheel in refraction.

A glass globe

Life in a glass globe – shadows, light source, medium and refraction.

We all like to see what we want to see, but sometimes a slight change in angle of looking at things can reveal a whole new set of things. It brings a wider and a beautiful aspect of life that had escaped from us earlier.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/refraction/