I guess I’m on a kick where I’m writing stories that take place in previous stories I wrote… Or at least in the worlds they were from… How meta. 🙂
This is one from a tv pilot I’d started writing a while back that I haven’t gotten very far into, but who knows maybe this would inspire what goes into it. I guess I could see it as an ingredient in that larger piece. Enjoy!
In this strip of shops, we could all see the ocean. And every night we watched the sun set together.
There were the kids in the record shop. The soul surfer waxing his board who stopped to look up. That yoga lady doing something complicated with this class that was like whaaaa? There from the window of the kitchen, chopping onions and I accidentally slice the tip of my finger. It hurts pretty much the same as a paper cut, but a good deeper into the skin. I look up as the light shines on my eyelids and I feel it as I’m looking down at my cutting board and the thousands of little pieces of onion, cilantro, tomatoes…
Setting sun on the water and the waves are a lullaby. My brother is playing guitar and singing outside while my father complains to my mother that he should be doing stuff in the restaurant. Meanwhile I’m inside and I’m working in the kitchen. Only place they’ll let me be. Though I could do more. I want to do more. But see he’s the boy. He’s the only son. Still, I think. I’m the only daughter…
It’s not just the onions that make my eyes water or the way that I’ve been built this way all my life. I cry easily sure, but I’m not like those girls that cry at everything. I’m not sure what the others think, but I don’t really care. I know now I only cry when I’m at the edge. As soon as I realize it’s happening again, I set down the knife. Onion juice slicked onto the blade. Set it down onto the block of wood. I set my hands on the counter and exhale. I look out the open door to sand and tiny long blades of grass sticking up every so often. Rich deep ble as far as you can see and the kind of sky that makes your heart hurt.
Setting sun and a beautiful song. I drift outside by my brother as he sings. He’s sitting under this tree on a little mound. And the breeze blows our hair back. I stand and listen. And he looks at me and smiles like he knows a little song might cheer up his little sister. He’s always been a free spirit so he’s gonna do what he wants anyway. And it’s like his song is telling me not to worry what our parents want us o do. He’s just gonna sit here and play this song because there’s time for a lot of things in this world. And this moment is for now and for singing and sunsets and being in wonder with the world around us. I get all this without him having to say it to me. Just in the way he looks at me. Like, “hey it’s alright”. He sings to me this familiar song that I’ve heard before and know the words by heart. And he coaxes me into singing it with him. We sing together with the ocean waves the breeze.
Out in the distance on the water I see two surfers — one of the them’s the kid of the soul surfer who owns the shop down the road. The other is his friend. The yoga class is done and the people leave the class looking at the sun over the water. And over in the record shop, the kids are laughing together over inside jokes about obscure music. Light reflecting off their faces.
So today is just another day where the smallest largest things happen yet again. Ongoing in this cycle where the cataclysmic is contained in the communal watching or a natural phenomenon. And I’m like, yeah, this is okay too.