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

The Pen Bleeds

Welcome to The Pen Bleeds where poetry is more than rhyme, more than reason, more than words flowing with rhythm; it’s a combination of jagged thoughts, feelings, actions, and a unique language opening minds to see the world from a different perspective.

This month’s featured Poet: Yasin Chines

It is a great honor to be featuring Yasin Chines this month! His fervor for syntax, human experiences, and life in general is ever so passionately expressed through his poetry. Yasin’s soul vibrates in each intricate composition which grasps at the core of the human spirit. He’s destined to be one of the greats, so please get familiar with this brilliant artist.

Yasin Chines (UK), a graduate from University of Leeds, is a writer & poet for a Manchester newspaper and co-author of the forthcoming unique poetic biography of The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) ‘Illuminated Verses’. Yasin is currently in the process of editing his first collection of poetry ‘The Carthatic Quartet’ which focuses on the cycle of seasons that burn, shake, freeze and awaken the soul; the majority of which shows how he has dealt with death of both parents at a young age, tragedy, hope, failed & new love and what not only helped him purge but open up realities beyond the mind’s comprehension. His work has received praise from acclaimed writers and poets such as Paul Sutherland, Daniel Abdal Hayy Moore and his former poetry mentor, to whom he is forever grateful, Rommi Smith. He is also a member of Poetic License UK.

For more information on Yasin Chines please visit:

WordPress: Xsentrik   http://xsentrik.wordpress.com/

Instagram: yasin_chines

Twitter: @YChines

Facebook: Yasin Chines

Contact Email: yasin.writer@gmail.com

What bearings do certain events or encounters have on someone’s future? Are certain happenings determined by a stroke of luck or is it fate, and can either be manipulated?

Luck is defined as the chance happening of adverse or fortunate events. While fate, is the ultimate agency that predetermines the course of events. The following quote from Alfred A. Montapert who wrote The Supreme Philosophy of Man: The Laws of Life, provides some insight into the proposed questions: “ Question: Why are we masters of our fate, the captains of our soul? Because we have the power to control our thoughts and our attitudes. That is why many people live in the withering negative world. That is why many people live in the positive faith world.” Clearly, Alfred Montapert’s philosophy on fate was greatly influenced by Invictus, an epic poem written by the late great Ernest Henley.

Invictus is a perfect representation of the power and strength of our resilience; proving the human spirit to be insurmountable. Even when life’s storms make an attempt at extinguishing its fire, the spirit always manages to rekindle its flame. Alfred Montaperts philosophy on positive reinforcement rings true. The fertilizer we use to nourish our thoughts also affects our behaviors and our fate. If one nourishes the soul in all things hopeful, it will thrive in love, forgiveness, knowledge, understanding, happiness, truth, and light. In the grand scheme of things we are all fated to go through a series of experiences, with the intention of connecting us to a higher power and our higher purpose. Personally I believe in kismet. Our kismet is a quintessential force always channeled by the one who holds the key. Evolve by daring to unlock the door to new possibilities; have faith in what is meant to be always will be.

First up, is Yasin Chines he graciously submitted Skin Creasesan intimate verse involving betrayal and the struggle to salvage a demised relationship against the natural course of the inevitable. Upon my request, he also contributed Fight or Leap a poem that expresses the battle of facing down an imaginary bear or jumping to ones demise. Next, Is Changes by K.S. Pratt  which speaks on the transition of change and how fate ties into our everyday lives. Finally, in honor of the Month of the Irish we give you Re-Adjustment, an ode written by the late C.S. Lewis,novelist, poet, literary critic, scholar, and broad caster from Belfast, Ireland. Lewis possessed a great amount of foresight. This poem speaks on the deterioration of communication between humans. How we’ve lost our passion for words and the advancement of literature as a whole. If Lewis were alive today, I’m positive he would be greatly disappointed in how face to face conversations have become passé in comparison to texting, tweeting, and facebooking.

In closing, no matter what your beliefs are, know that we are all destined for greatness. Always choose your thoughts wisely, for they become your actions, and ultimately your fate.

beach photo

Skin Creases

How little difference

her words made

from trying to preserve

our birth mark, to folding

the creases flat.

And as I looked into

the pupils of her eyes

dilating, shifting deltas

of hazel veins, I was certain

that no delicate handling

of any skin, can avoid

the stretch-marks that

eventually plough over

tainted love’s folds of skin.

She came a little closer,

so close I felt the

whisper of her breath

on my skin. Intimate.

How absurd that I felt

like a snail, and she

the salt.

-by Yasin Chines

Fight or Leap

There comes a time

when no choice is not

an option anymore.

In its ever-silent

growth spurts,

the bear you have

knowingly nurtured

for so long, has now

become. And on this

occasion, you

have to wrestle it.

You can inquire after,

whether this is

designed risk or fate.

by Yasin Chines

 

Changes

When life must change, then change it must,
When love must change to distrust,
When leaves of gold must turn brown.
When tears of sadness must come down.

Alight from thy dreary bed.
Face only that which lies ahead.
Accept those things that cannot be.
Cry only for those you no longer see.

With fate comes change, then change it must,
Accept it all, for life is just.

-by  K.S.Pratt

 

Re-Adjustment

I thought there would be a grave beauty, a sunset splendour
In being the last of one’s kind: a topmost moment as one watched
The huge wave curving over Atlantis, the shrouded barge
Turning away with wounded Arthur, or Ilium burning.
Now I see that, all along, I was assuming a posterity
Of gentle hearts: someone, however distant in the depths of time,
Who could pick up our signal, who could understand a story. There won’t be.

Between the new Hembidae and us who are dying, already
There rises a barrier across which no voice can ever carry,
For devils are unmaking language. We must let that alone forever.
Uproot your loves, one by one, with care, from the future,
And trusting to no future, receive the massive thrust
And surge of the many-dimensional timeless rays converging
On this small, significant dew drop, the present that mirrors all.

-by C.S.Lewis

*Featured picture courtesy of © 2013 Ray Hernandez

 

Genesis

The campaign for change has to start somewhere. Genesis is our somewhere. Every month we will be making you aware of worthy causes and pointing you in the right direction to help make a difference.

imageI’m sure that we have all, at some point been lectured about the environment. Some form of it at least: fossil fuels, pollution, ozone layer depletion, etc. What we are doing wrong and how we can go about correcting these wrongs. Even the government is trying to motivate us to do our part- like tax write offs for those that invest in fuel efficient products and make their home more Eco friendly. But at the end of the day, does one man, his actions and attempts at going green- are they enough to change our fate?

Let me tell you about Billy. He lives a normal life and does small things that help the environment. He recycles, uses compact fluorescent light bulbs, turns off lights as he leaves the room and unplugs appliances when he’s not using them. Billy is a real stickler for rules and never even goes over 60 miles per hour while driving. Instead of 70 mph or better that everyone else seems to be doing on the highway and saves him 4 miles per gallon. He tries to reduce his water consumption by turning off the water while brushing his teeth and fixing any leaks as soon as possible.

Billy is doing things that in truth are simple and don’t take much time to do. Yet with this simple tasks he is really making a difference and doing his part for the environment. Do you see? It doesn’t take a lot to go green. It only takes a little knowledge and the want to help out and make a difference. Because at the end of the day, no one man can undo the damage that has been done by billions of people over countless years. We must all do our part. Billy is a great example of the things we can all do to help the environment. But there is much, much more that can be done, things that will even save you money in the long run.

imageMaking compost is another way to reduce waste and is also a great natural fertilizer. Use phosphate-free laundry and dish soaps, use washable rags- not paper towels while cleaning, use re-usable containers to store foods, save your hangers and return them to the cleaners, take unwanted, re-usable items to a charitable organization or thrift shop. The thing is, that the list to do your part for planet Earth, is pretty endless. For a pretty long list of ways to help click here.

For one reason or the other most of us don’t do anything to change the fate of our planet and that of our future. And this is the problem. What exactly are you waiting for? It doesn’t take much effort or time to be Eco friendly. It’s actually quite easy. Like Ghandi said, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world” and get to it.

© 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