STORIES BY ME

1.   

She lay there, a ball in the dark, groping the smooth wall in vain for the latch she would 

never find.   Her heart raced as the darkness enshrouding her seemed to close in, squeezing her 

tightly.  She fumbled across the floor for her phone, finally getting it in her clutches.  She dialed a 

number and it rang.   

"Hello?" 

"I'm stuck in my trunk!"

2.   

He chased the man down the street at a seemingly blistering pace.  And yet the man was 

getting away.  The man's gray hair  blew back in the breeze, sticking up in a seemingly taunting 

manner.  He kept chasing him, his feet pounding the pavement so hard he was surprised it didn't 

break.  But he was too slow because, with each step, he seemed to be losing ground.  The man 

rounded the corner and a hydraulic lift whirred.   

As he watched in disbelief, the man motored his electric wheelchair onto the lift of a white 

unlicensed  van and he drove away. 

3.   

Timmy sat on the front stoop with a large clear bag full of pads sitting next to him.  First 

he pulled the knee pads and put them on, pulling the velcro straps tight along the back.  Next 

came the elbow pads, the green paint chipping from the sides, and the wrist guards attached 

securely to the  exposed parts.  Then came the helmet, blue and sturdy.  He tightened then strap 

below his chin and wiggled it around on his head to check the fit.  Lastly came the skates. 

"Ready to go?"

"Uh huh."   

Timmy stood up, loosing his balance as he rose, and he was on the ground.  Too bad he 

didn't have a pad for that. 

4.  

           The water was so inviting, especially that day.  Beads of sweat rolled down his reddened 

face as he stood on the edge of the city pool.  Children screamed and splashed about him as he 

looked longingly at it.  Leaning over the edge, he was tempted to jump in and let the cool water

rush around his body.  Leaning farther, he began to lose his balance and the world moved in slow 

motion as he fell headfirst into the pool.

As he thrashed his arms wildly, his head bobbing on the surface, he remembered why he 

didn't go in pools. 

5. 

She woke with a start to the incessant beeping of her alarm clock.  Yawning and stretching 

out in her bed, she tried in vain to get up.  She looked out the window, but the light from her 

alarm clock reflected back at her, making it impossible to see out.  Too dark.  So early 

for a Thursday.  She pulled the covers up over her head, enjoying the warmth.  Five minutes 

longer.  Then she would get up.  It wasn't the right time.  

She curled tightly back into a ball under the sheets, wishing she could stay there for 

hours.   Kind of like a cat.  That's it!  She wished she was a cat so that she could sleep all day, 

get up and eat whenever she pleased without having to  worry about what she had to do at work.  

And so, that's what she would be.  She told herself that she would get up soon, but as her eyelids 

grew heavier, she knew she was only kidding herself.  

She woke again, much more refreshed this time.  Rolling slowly over, away from the wall, she stared out the window.  The birds weren't chirping anymore and the sun appeared to be 

settled pretty high in the sky.  Puffy white clouds drifted slowly across her field of vision and she wondered what it would be like to be able to sit on one and watch the world below.  She 

thought that would be pretty cool.  But then she figured it would be the same as riding in a hot air balloon, which was nothing new to her.  She had flown across the country, across the 

ocean, and had even attempted to fly to Oz in her balloon.  But, eventually, she figured out that Oz wasn't real and turned around.  Lucky for her, she had just enough fuel left to make it 

home without crashing.  

After daydreaming for a while, she remembered about getting up again.  The clock read 12:37.  Definitely time to get up, but was it worth it to go to work?  Maybe.  Could be a good 

idea.  She had enough work to get done.  Or should she just call in sick and take the day off?  That would be nicer.  She was already late, so she decided to just call in sick.  She liked that 

idea.  

She dialed her boss' phone number and put on the best fake-sick voice she could muster up.  Her boss' gruff voice grumbled through the phone line.  It made her want to die.  He palms 

began to sweat and were clammy.  She thought of how she used to lie to her parents about being sick back when she was in high school and how her parents used  to make her go anyway. 

They knew she was lying because it was pretty obvious.  Once, she tried to fake a fever by placing a hot cloth on her head and had spilled the water on her bed without realizing it.  When her 

parents saw the wet splotch, her plan was ruined.  After that, she never missed a day.  

Maybe she was better at this on the phone than in person because her boss seemed to believe her.  Or he at least told her to stay home.  Either way, she didn't have to go to work, so she 

didn't care all that much.  

She rolled out of bed now, but it was so much colder out of bed that she almost jumped back in.  If she wasn't hungry, she would have done just that but she was hungry.  During the 

day, she ate every three hours without fail.  It was just routine.  But she could go all night without eating.  She thought it was funny how that worked.  Eating in general also amused her. 

Shoving food into a hole in your head seemed ridiculous to her.  She wanted to meet the first person to eat, but she knew she never would.  

She opened her closet.  She stared at the shirts which hung neatly on wooden hangers arranged by color.  She settled on a white tee shirt with a picture of a fish on it.  Something 

simple.  She moved on to the pants.  She took out a pair of dark jeans.  But then she decided against them and put on sweatpants.  She didn't see the point of wearing jeans when she could 

wear a comfortable pair of old sweats if she was ust staying at home.  

She left her bedroom and went into the kitchen, finally ready to eat.  For some reason, she had an odd craving for fish, which was weird because she usually hated fish.  Especially in 

the morning, but since it wasn't really the morning anymore, she decided that she could have some for dinner.  She decided on gefilte fish because it is much easier to prepare and tastes 

really good on matzah with horseradish.  

She sat down at the table to think about what she wanted to eat for breakfast.  She could make waffles... or she could make eggs.  They both sounded good to her.  She wished that 

somebody else was over so that she could make both and split them, because that would be just perfect.  But who could she call to come over?  Linda and Claudia  were both at work, she 

was sure.  John was in Arizona.  Maybe Phoebe could come over.  It was worth a shot, so she picked up the phone and called her.  After confirming with her, she agreed to make  pancakes 

and eggs instead of waffles, because Phoebe didn't have a waffle maker.  Phoebe made a bad joke about making green eggs and ham, after which she almost uninvited Phoebe, but didn't 

because she didn't want to eat alone and she wanted to split the food.

She went over the cabinet and got out the pancake mix.  She only had whole wheat pancake mix, which was okay because she liked to think that all foods were healthier when they were 

labeled whole wheat, which may or may not have been true.  She read the instructions and ingredients, even though she had memorized them years ago.  As a child, she had made pancakes 

every weekend, so she eventually memorized how to make them, but always checked the bag, just in case she remembered it wrong, which she never did.  2 cups mix, 1 cup milk, 2 eggs, 2 

tablespoons oil. Sometimes she would substitute tofu for the oil, but she decided not to this time because Phoebe was coming and Phoebe would think that tofu in pancakes was weird.

Now that she knew what she needed, she took out a bowl, a measuring cup, measuring spoons, and a bright pink mixing spoon from IKEA.  She took out the oil form the cabinet and 

the milk and eggs from the refrigerator.  She cracked the eggs into the bowl, but a piece of  the shell fell into the bowl and she spent a few minutes trying to fish it out of the egg goop, which 

turned out to be much more difficult than she had expected.  Eventually, she resorted to mixing the egg until it was smooth and pouring in through a colander to separate the piece of shell, 

which worked, even if it wasn't the most professional way to remove a stray piece of egg shell from egg.  She mixed the milk and pancake mix into the egg to finish the batter and waited for 

Phoebe to arrive.

She sat at the table, watching the second hand on the clock move and click rhythmically around the face.  Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to days, 

so it seemed to her.  A fly flew into the room and she followed it with her eyes while it buzzed around with no intended direction.  She would have tried to catch it, or let it outside, but she 

didn't feel like getting up, so she didn't. 

After more waiting, she heard a long awaited knock on the door.  She got up eagerly to answer it.  She was starving by that point, and almost wished the Phoebe hadn't come so that 

she could eat the eggs and pancakes by herself.

She opened the door, but didn't see anyone.  She was about the shut the door when she looked down.  In front of her, she saw a short little man and a box that was bigger than he was. 

She didn't know how he had managed to carry the box with him, but she didn't ask.  She peered into the box and saw that it was full of cats.  Before the man could say anything, she glared 

at him and said "I'm not interested in buying anything."

"Good, because I'm not interested in selling anything," he replied, heatedly.

For some reason, she found he response oddly amusing and began to laugh extremely hard.  It was the kind of laugh that starts out loud and grows until it gets silent and you just start 

convulsing and crying.  

The man did not like this and asked her to calm down.  But she kept laughing.    

The man had had enough of this and wanted her to stop laughing.  She was, after all, laughing at him.  "Enough!" he screamed.  

This seemed to catch her attention.  At once, her lips were sealed and she stared at him intently.

He continued.  "I heard what you said before.  About wanting a cat.  You can have one of mine since I have so many."

"You must've heard wrong," she told him.  "I said that I wanted to be a cat, not that I wanted to have a cat."

"Oh, well.  I can't turn you into a cat.  Since I'm already here, just take a cat."

"But I don't want a cat.   You don't understand."

"No.  You don't understand."  He took a cat out of his box, placed it on the ground in front of her, and disappeared.  

Phoebe never showed up.  She ate her eggs and pancakes by herself.