Charley Parkins by Coty Poynter

You’ve searched and you’ve found Short Shorts. Join us each month where we explore amazing short stories. Always let us know what you think and submissions are welcomed. Now, find a comfy chair where you can lose yourself in this fateful tale written by: Coty Poynter

CHARLEY PARKINS

Across from him she sits. Electric blue eyes staring into his faded browns. The coffee screams, releasing the pain of the scalding brew. The waiter pours him another cup. He begins to speak words. Loving words of endearment and reassurance. The kind of words that a man thinks a woman wants to hear in times of trouble. The words that are suppose to soothe, to stop, to comfort. His rough voice is transformed into that of an opera singer as the words flow from his tongue. Locked her electric blue eyes are, but glassy they do not become.

When he finally runs out of words to speak, he looks at her with anticipation. He waits for the tears to come, for her reply, for some reaction. Nothing. The electric blues remain dry, her body does not shake, not even her lip quivers.

A sense of dread begins to flow up his feet, through his legs, his balls, chest, and into his head. The room begins to spin, although she remains stationary. Immovable she has become.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling sharp needles, and exhaling glass. He grabs the cup of coffee to chase the glass down, but the black magma only serves to enhance the pain. He clears his throat. In this instance, one final word has dislodged itself from his dry, pained throat. It travels up his esophagus like vomit, forcing its way onto his tongue and out of his mouth.

“Why?”

The statue with electric blue eyes stares soullessly back at him. Her response came as if she had prepared for this last word.

“I don’t know, you didn’t seem to want me anymore. And I’m pregnant.”

The immovable statue with electric blue eyes rises from the table and exits. He sits there. His faded browns becoming glassy. He hears the sound of heels approaching the table just as soon as they left. The statue reaches down for her pen.

“I just came back for my pen. Oh yeah, the baby isn’t yours, Charley.”

The statue makes a swift exit for the second time.

Charley Parkins sits at the table, his coffee now whispering. His faded browns are now bleeding. His mind is empty, and his heart is silent. A cold wind blows over him. He shivers. As drops drip from his browns, he tries to create a positive thought of any kind with no luck. Then a thought comes to mind.

“Leech.”
—————————————————————————————
Charley Parkins sits at the table. His once hot coffee now ice. His browns bled dry. Without paying his bill, Charley rises from the table and leaves. Walking mindlessly down the street, Charley can not pinpoint where he went wrong. Where they went wrong.
How could such a sweet girl do something like that, he asks himself. How could he have been so blind as to not notice the truth of the situation.

Charley snaps back to reality. Without knowing how he has procured it, Charley opens the bottle of whiskey in his hand and begins drinking. His first gulp drains nearly one third of the bottle. He wipes his mouth, caps his spirit, and begins to head towards his home.

Like any man who is down and out, Charley turned towards the bottle. Two bottles to be precise. The first bottle of whiskey was half gone when a cop stopped Charley on his way home. The officer, Grant Hadley, was a friend of Charley. Not a long time friend, but they had a few past encounters. Charley shared his story of heartbreak with Officer Hadley when he stopped him.

Instead of taking him into custody, Hadley opted to take the bottle. He told Charley, that he’s going to give him a break this one time. That if he see’s him like this again he’ll have no choice, but to take him in and charge him.

Charley gave him a drunkards promise to not do it again.

Grant Hadley gets into his squad car and pulls away without looking back. He gave Charley the decency of solitude, without a second interruption. Unlike woman with electric blues.

Charley takes a breathe to enjoy the solidarity of the moment. The moment is ruined when one thought finds its way to the forefront of his mind.

“I just came back for my pen.”

The sentence replayed constantly in Charley’s head. It was teasing him. Plaguing him to no end. Dancing around inside his mind, unable to end the song it’s dancing too.

Charley snaps back to reality. Words begin to form in his throat. Unable to swallow them, they seep from his mouth.

“Fucking bitch.”

Charley Parkins takes a drink from his second bottle of whiskey without knowing how he came to acquire it.
—————————————————————————————
Polishing off the second bottle of whiskey, Charley Parkins continues to drunkenly roam about the city streets. Staggering down that sidewalk, stumbling up this curb, the drunkard odyssey continues on. With his knees growing weak and his feet sore, resting was what his body wanted, but a man in emotion shall remain in motion, even if it kills him.

Charley is in a bad place. His thoughts race around, the car with her decal plastered all over continually coming out ahead of all the others. He begins to sink back into the confides of his mind to piece together the events where everything took a turn for the worst.

“Was I ever truly happy?” he thought to himself. “Yes. But was she?”

Charley rattled his brain, attempting to dislodge any memories that were tightly pack into the back of his muddled mind.

Sorting through his mind, Charley neglected to take notice of where he currently walked. Slipping into a state of subconscious movement, his mind preoccupied, Charley hears a faint beeping. Grower louder and longer the more he tries to ignore it, he is forced away from his thoughts to focus on reality, but a moment too late.

The driver of the vehicle too distracted to take notice of this pitiful drunkard roaming in the middle of the street. His girlfriend incessantly nagging him about how to deal with their pregnancy, about how she wishes to be married, and how she can’t believe HE didn’t pay the bill. “What a selfish prick HE is!”

As Charley snaps back to reality, he finds himself face to grill with a large black Ford F-350.

Charley Parkins has met his end during his worst day ever.

About the Author in his own words:  I’m Coty Poynter, a 20 year old writer and aspiring filmmaker. I have written short stories, scripts, prose and poetry over the past few years to hone my craft. I live in Baltimore, Maryland, working at a bookstore. I will be attending Salisbury University in Fall 2013 where I will be majoring in Media Production and minoring in Creative Writing. Writing has played a large part in my life since I was young boy, helping me escape from the boring reality of the world or simply to hide from the sadness that pursued me that day. I hope, someday, to write books that will be published and screenplays to be transformed into movies. When I’m not writing in my free time, I’m reading or getting out for a jog to let my mind rest. My favorite author is a close call between Charles Bukowski and Kurt Vonnegut, both have a great impact on me. I just love living life to the way I see fit so that I may be the happiness being I can be.

“When something feels right and good in your gut, your mind, and heart. Do everything you can to pursue that dream and make it a reality for that is where true happiness lies.”

CotyPoynterHow to reach Coty:

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/coty.poynter

Twitter (Most Used Network):
https://twitter.com/CotyMPoynt

Tumblr (My Creative Outlet/Blog):
http://cotypoynt.tumblr.com

HitRECord:
http://www.hitrecord.org/users/seePoyntandRECord

 

 

© 2013 Coty Poynter

Scribe is An Adjective

Scribe Is An Adjective is our acknowledgement that for some writing is not a pastime- it is who we are. We will be highlighting authors (past and present) who make a difference in literature. Writers who inspire, challenge and captivate us with their words. This issue we will be looking into two successful and accomplished Irish authors.

imageC.S. Lewis, to me, is an author of children’s novels and the man who brought us the brilliant and timeless world of Narnia. But I recently found that he is a man of three hats. During his life he played three different very successful roles: literary scholar, author and writer and broadcaster of Christian apologies. But who was Lewis and how did he come to be this successful multidimensional man?

C.S. Lewis or Clive Staples Lewis was born 1898 in Belfast, Ireland. He nicknamed himself Jacksie at the age of three when his dog died and he took up it’s name. He spent his life with that nickname which was eventually left at Jack. His mother died of cancer when Lewis was only ten years old. After her death he and his brother were sent abroad to continue their studies in England. He struggled to adjust in England but came to rather enjoy himself though he never stopped missing Ireland.

As a teenager, Lewis declared himself an atheist although he was raised with Christian beliefs. He also learned to love poetry, including the works of Virgil, Homer and Yeats. He considered becoming a poet until his first published works Spirits in Bondage and Dymer flopped. He was then
convinced he could never become an accomplished poet.

In 1916 Lewis was accepted at Oxford University. However, he took time off from his studies to volunteer in the British Army in WWI. He fought in the trenches of France where he was injured on the front line by a British shell that fell short of its target. He lived the rest of his life with shrapnel in his chest. When the war ended in 1918, Lewis returned to Oxford where in 1925 he graduated with first-class honors in Greek and Latin Literature, Philosophy and Ancient History, and English Literature.

He was elected to join the faculty at Oxford as an English Professor. Lewis continued to be a non believer with various fazes until his 30’s when he converted to Christianity. His first major work, The Pilgrim’s Regress, was based on his own spiritual journey to Christianity. Between 1931 and 1962 he published a total of 34 books but wrote over 60 during his lifetime. His writing won him acclaim in his ‘three separate vocations’. In 1963 he died of renal failure yet his death was barely publicized due to President John F. Kennedy and Aldous Huxley dying on the same day.

It has been said “that those who may have known of Lewis in any single role may not have known that he performed in the other two.” This was very much the case for me. What role did you come to know C.S. Lewis for?

Oscar Wilde

His name is Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde. I know him as Oscar Wilde. There was a time in my life where I was tired of what the New York Bestseller’s list had to offer and decided to revisit THE CLASSICS. That was the moment that I discovered that classic literature is NOT boring. Once I came across The Picture of Dorian Gray, I became fascinated with Oscar’s sarcasm and complex sense of humor. He entered my life and changed the way that I saw literature and changed my style of writing. Oscar_WildeI always wrote in the sense of what if. For example, what if a lady walks into this bank and her water breaks. Baby is coming. People are calling 911. Etc..etc. I never truly made a connection with any of my characters and just wrote. I never truly fathomed the idea that each time the words hit the paper and flow out of  your mind, your heart is actually bleeding. Art imitates life and his life was a Wilde ride.

Up until his first and only novel, Oscar Wilde was the Seth MacFarlane of the playwright world. He was an eclectic story teller with a hint of raunchiness and well educated in art of writing. He always felt the need to go the extra mile and see how much he could actually get away with. He was well known, respected and honorably paid for his wonder works.

However, this extra mile was also his downfall. Since art imitates life, Oscar went ahead and let his heart speak in his only novel. This was the drop of water that flooded the dam. Oscar was prosecuted for … get this …. being gay. Keep in mind that the time was 1891. However, upon reading the novel that destroyed his credibility and ultimately became his demise; the book is not blatantly gay. There are subtle hints here and there, but nothing like Fifty Shades of Grey (For the record, I haven’t read this book…only heard of it). Yet, the story ended his career and left him destitute with no family and no friends. Not even his lover stuck around!

If you are searching for a timeless piece of writing, amazing prose and tons of intellectual laughter, pick up The Picture of Dorian Gray. You will not regret it. Also read up on his plays and poetry…a simple Google search will do (I love that Google.) I leave you now with a quote from Oscar Wilde’s only novel…

“The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of Science is that it is not emotional.”

© 2013 Seven Magazine

March 7, 2013 @ 12:07

Hello All…

Are you anticipating the next issue of Seven The Mag as much as we are?!?

No, we aren’t stressed at all. You all know how easy it is to get over writers block and meet a goal of perfection that only exist in your head. **enter nervous laughter** haha HA HA haaaa…yeah.

Anyway, here’s a poll that we would like you to answer. Let us know what you think in order to prep for our next issue of Seven The Mag.

Thanks for reading,
Us =)

© 2013 Seven Magazine

What do you think?

We, at SEVEN see the beauty and possibilities of the written word. In this category we encourage you to contribute. To pick up a pen and write your heart out because we all know that the greats started somewhere. We are aware that everyone writes (technically speaking), but here we encourage the use of heart, soul and inspiration to show that anyone is capable of being a writer. Anyone Can Write is a page dedicated to you, the readers. To your words and ideas.

Does unconditional love forgive when we have been betrayed?

“Yes, because we’ve all screwed someone over at one time or another.”

Jarred

—Jarrad from Miami, FL

Unconditional love can forgive depending on how severe the betrayal or situation is!!! Because, if you love that person your gonna find a way to forgive or excuse and try to forget what happened. Even though there might be times and situations that arise that will bring you back to that betrayal moment where you be like damn, is he doing this or is this going on? And you question the situation at the moment and hope and pray that isn’t what is happening to where you are being betrayed again and wont be at ease until you know what’s really going on and know the situation is clear. Then you remember why you forgave them from the start and it’s all because of that 4 letter word LOVE!!!

Jessy

—Jessica A. from Long Island, NY

“Yes, eventually because unconditional love is agape love, but it doesn’t take from our humanity. You would have to be super human to immediately forgive without conditions .There are different levels of love, with agape love being the highest form of love, and that type of love can only be achieved by being like Christ. The question is who among us would do that?”

Rebecca

— Rebecca from Dallas, TX

I believe in unconditional love their always has to be forgiveness but I guess it depends on level of betrayal. If theirs an ultimate betrayal you can forgive and love the person but decide you cannot be with the person. I guess it more so varies from situation to situation, but to me forgiveness is freedom, so I believe fully in forgiving, forgetting however is another matter completely.

lEIRYN

—Leiryn from Bronx, NY

I say yes because if you really do love someone you can forgive them. It will take time and effort on both sides to repair that trust but it’s not impossible.

danielle

—Danielle from Hammocks, FL

It depends on the person. You have to be able to work and repair the damage of the betrayal as a couple. You have to see why did it happen. Was it negligence, selfishness or was the skin just too weak. Personally, I couldn’t do it. I might say I forgive, but I won’t forget. Which is not forgiveness.

Jeannette

—Jeannette from Miami, FL

Honestly in the beginning I would forgive, but it will always be in the back of my mind and it will cause conflicts in the long run. You will end up playing games until one or the other gets tired and throws in the towel…So to answer your question depending on the person I would say it wouldn’t work as far as I know.

NYC 006

—Mike A. from Babbling Brooke, NY

Would you like your picture submitted next month? Just answer our question and submit a PG photo with your answer. Email us at 7themag[at]gmail[dot]com or use the form. Your answers will be published, along with the rest of our amazing issue, March 7, 2013. Remember to tell your friends to check out your new CELEBRITY status! Here’s the question:

Next Issues Prompt: Do you believe in LUCK or FATE and can either be manipulated?

Contributions: For next months issue we are accepting contributions for the Short Shorts category. Be sure tie it in to the theme of Fate and/or Luck and keep the word count between 300-1500 words.

      See

Contact Us

    or send contributions directly to 7themag[at]gmail[dot]com.

magSeven Quotes:

“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. “–Oscar Wilde

“The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” -– Nicholas Sparks

“The half-life of love is forever.” -–Junot Diaz

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.” —Ingrid Bergman

“Pure love and suspicion cannot dwell together: at the door where the latter enters, the former makes it’s exit.” —Alexandre Dumas

“I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.” —Pablo Neruda

“Forgiveness and love are companions on the same journey, but the battle between love and pride are eternal.”– K.S. Pratt

Words from the Editor in Chief:

I learned this month, that even though procrastination has always been my friend, I have placed it in the wrong category in my life. I used it to keep me from getting where I need to be, when in reality I was just afraid. I was afraid of not being good enough and not letting it out to hang, so to speak. I was told by a wonderful man that if you hesitate you die. I have taken that to heart. Isn’t it true that if you don’t nurture a dream, eventually it ceases to exist? Stop procrastinating and just do it already. I did. As I said before…This is Seven. Thanks for reading. =)

© 2013 Seven Magazine