Relations (4 Parts in 4 Short Stories)

Relations Part 1: Alone

Francesca dialed her boyfriend. “This is Chuck…” straight to voicemail. Where was he at this hour? Lonely and restless, Francesca stared up into the dark. She picked up the phone and made another call. He picked up, answering in a hushed tone. “Ned, it’s me,” she purred, “can I come over?”

Relations Part 2: Bored

Ned and Nancy sat in silence. He had loved her once, but now only stayed with her for the apartment. His phone vibrated. Upon spotting Francesca’s name, Ned couldn’t resist; He rushed off to answer it. “I probably have to go,” called over his shoulder to Nancy, “problems at work.”

Relations Part 3: Lazy

Francesca dialed her boyfriend. His phone vibrated across the nightstand and tumbled to the floor. Chuck popped up in bed, spotted Francesca’s glowing name and smiled. He decided to let her sleep and call her back tomorrow. Chuck tucked the phone behind the engagement ring box on the bedside table.

Relations Part 4: Shy

Ned and Nancy sat in silence. Nancy was still reeling from the call she had received earlier. How could this happen to her? She looked over at her boyfriend and prepared to break the news about the chlamydia, when his phone vibrated and he rushed off to answer it.

Mall Santa

As I took my seat upon his lap, it quickly became the greatest day of my life. I waited for the question I already knew he’d ask. I’d rehearsed my answer for weeks. “HO HO HO,” he boomed. This was it. “Alright kid, look at the camera, and say cheese.”

Tears

As she wiped her eyes, matters only became worse. Her eyes burned as they flooded with tears. She sniffled and looked down. It was getting late. She would have to hurry. She wiped her eyes once more with her sleeve. She picked up the knife and reached for another onion.

Get off

He heard his boss coming from down the hall. Did he have enough time to finish? Sweat poured down his back as her heels neared his cubicle. His hands moved faster and faster. She couldn't catch him doing this, he'd be fired for sure. He had to get off! "Stop Facebooking, Carl!" Busted.

Pillow

She loved the way his breath felt on the back of her neck. The way his fingers would graze the small of her back just before he would wake her. How his head fit her pillow perfectly. She wished she'd told him. Now she only whispers to the empty spot on her pillow.

fit for the job

When he stepped outside he told himself that he wouldn't be cold. He wasn’t, so he smirked. As he got older, he knew that in order to control his physical, he had to control his mental. He was an excellent lawyer. He never let anyone tap into his psyche. He never showed emotion.

their own relationship

They loved each other more than the world. But, when they were together they said little. Arguments had the potential to erupt instantaneously. They knew each other too well and it hurt too much to fight. They learned each other’s nuances and tendencies. They knew more about one another than themselves.

a glimpse of light

Where he lived now, the sun always shined and the people always smiled. Home, the clouds ruled the sky, the light of day had little willingness to survive. But, when the sun came out, people stopped and took notice. They appreciated what they had, because it would be gone in a flash.

family business

The obligations he had to the people in his life dampened his eagerness to return home. He wanted everything to be the same. But, his friends and family missed him. Their questions would pile upon him and he would answer shortly. His mannerisms would annoy them, but their repetitiveness warranted it.

buzz kill

Although his relaxed state was euphoric, complete anxiousness had not left him yet. The possible buzz kill of company and conversation still loomed. He opened the door and checked down the corridor, there was no one. It was eerie. The walls were painted the color of vomit. The atmosphere was ideal.

pleasure pulse

Pleasure pulsed through his veins and relaxed him as he found an empty compartment on the train to St. Louis. The natural high he experienced when he got his way was comparable to the adrenaline rush of a game winning three pointer. Fucked up. But, he fit the job description like a glove.

perfect machine

The contents of the briefcase didn’t matter to him. That was why he transported them. The secrets he held physically, failed to muster the slightest of temptations mentally. He cared none for secrets. Gossip was the antonym of his being. He was the perfect machine.