I don't like kids. If you want to have kids then go nuts, but I don't have the patience for the little brats. I think the problem is that when I was a kid I wanted to be treated like an adult, so I expect the same of current kids. I think that sounds nicer than I am just some bitter person. Yes, much better. However, I don't wish any sort of harm on children in general.
I wrote this piece as another bit of flash fiction that came to my head after a series of real-life events.
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Pornographic
By Garik Charneco
Pornographic
By Garik Charneco
Lake stacks the tea tins onto another, making around his mother's groceries.
"It's a castle," he screams while thrusting his arms up in the arm and then shaking his head. "YAY," he murmurs through the flapping of his lips. The cold wind outside has made the lips red, the color of freshly drunk strawberry Kool-Aid.
Jeanette gets her coffee from the counter, dropping her quarter change into the tip jar. The cashier nods in approval and then return to shinning the stainless steel of the countertop.
Lake's brother, Devon, grabs another set of tea tins, an African roobios and Sri Lankan Ceylon, and brings them to his brother.
"Here are more rocks! Too make the castle big and strong!" Devon pulls back his own lips and flashes the bottom row of his milky teeth each eschewed aganst the other as to resemble headstones in disrepair.
Jeanette puts the paper cup down on the table. "OK, boys, you need to sit on your bums while mom drinks her coffee. The we can go home. C'mon, on your bums. Like this." She then plops down onto the wooden chair, flipping her purse behind the chair's back with a nudge from her thighs. Her arms are out with the palms of her hands facing up. 'See? Nothing to it."
Lake pulls out a plastic figurine from his coat pocket. It is a limp piece of plastic with the paint buffed away by dozens of games of "Save the City" and "Fly Through Walls." The little man holds a gun in one hand and then a baton in the other, which has broken off at the top. Now it looks more like an umbrella handle. Lake puts the figure on the top of the highest tea tin. "It's Captain Amazing! Woo woo!"
Devons begins to slap at the bulky folds in his winter coat already a frown coming to his face. His own figurine is back at home, in the kitchen junk drawer where Jeanette put it after yanking it out of the vacuum cleaner hose. He slaps his coat pockets again, before orbiting his hands around his waist. His pants are snow pants and they make a soft crunching noise with each slap. Lake has already begun to narrate the exploits of Captain Amazing with the best baritone he can muster acting as the villain's voice.
Jeanette notices the quiver in Devon's bottom lip and the soft gasp of air into his lungs. She begins, "Devon, honey, your toy is back home. You left it on the floor and remember what mommy said about toys on the..."
Captain Amazing flies through the stack of tea tins. He knocks out a brick of Japanese Sencha that smacks into the coffee cup. Jeanette pulls away. They are close to the window and when a droplet hits the bay windows of the shop, a small wisp of steam appears. Lake freezes and Captain Amazing drops to the floor onto a bed of twisted English Breakfast.
Devon sits frozen in his chair with his arms stretched out and perpendicular to his body. His fingers curl back into the palms of his hands and three amber-colored rivulets speckle his face.
"Devon! Are you ok!?" Jeanette grabs the thin cocktail napkin that came with the coffee and attacks the thin burns on the boy's face.
Devon speaks through gritted teeth, his lips also frozen and tasting the bitter tint of his muddy tears. "No!" He wheezes out two short breaths between his teeth. "Burning!" His winter coat absorbed most of the coffee, but a single stream of liquid flew under the collar of his shirt and oozed down his chest where it circled his belly button. Jeanette rips off the coat and finds the damp brown nebula spreading through the bottom of his undershirt.
The clerk has run over with a damp cloth and slapped it on the table. Jeanette drops the crumpled napkin and switches to the rag. "You're ok. See! You're ok. It was close, but you're ok!" The streaks of red across his face fade as the coffee pools on the tiles beneath them.
Devon lingers on crying, fighting the instinct to cringe and pull back into his down shell. There he finds more burning, but this one slowly absorbs into his skin, even faster once his mother dabs that part of his body. Lake is also frozen watching with a tourist's eyes.
"Say you're sorry to your brother! Say you're sorry! Lake!" Jeanette screams this as she turns the rag to the table. Wiping up slivers of tea leaves she repeats herself. "Now, Lake!"
Lake looks down to the floor, focusing on Captain Amazing. "I'm sorry." He then plunks himself down and picks up the figurine. He puts his lips together and the goes, "Whoosh!"
"It's a castle," he screams while thrusting his arms up in the arm and then shaking his head. "YAY," he murmurs through the flapping of his lips. The cold wind outside has made the lips red, the color of freshly drunk strawberry Kool-Aid.
Jeanette gets her coffee from the counter, dropping her quarter change into the tip jar. The cashier nods in approval and then return to shinning the stainless steel of the countertop.
Lake's brother, Devon, grabs another set of tea tins, an African roobios and Sri Lankan Ceylon, and brings them to his brother.
"Here are more rocks! Too make the castle big and strong!" Devon pulls back his own lips and flashes the bottom row of his milky teeth each eschewed aganst the other as to resemble headstones in disrepair.
Jeanette puts the paper cup down on the table. "OK, boys, you need to sit on your bums while mom drinks her coffee. The we can go home. C'mon, on your bums. Like this." She then plops down onto the wooden chair, flipping her purse behind the chair's back with a nudge from her thighs. Her arms are out with the palms of her hands facing up. 'See? Nothing to it."
Lake pulls out a plastic figurine from his coat pocket. It is a limp piece of plastic with the paint buffed away by dozens of games of "Save the City" and "Fly Through Walls." The little man holds a gun in one hand and then a baton in the other, which has broken off at the top. Now it looks more like an umbrella handle. Lake puts the figure on the top of the highest tea tin. "It's Captain Amazing! Woo woo!"
Devons begins to slap at the bulky folds in his winter coat already a frown coming to his face. His own figurine is back at home, in the kitchen junk drawer where Jeanette put it after yanking it out of the vacuum cleaner hose. He slaps his coat pockets again, before orbiting his hands around his waist. His pants are snow pants and they make a soft crunching noise with each slap. Lake has already begun to narrate the exploits of Captain Amazing with the best baritone he can muster acting as the villain's voice.
Jeanette notices the quiver in Devon's bottom lip and the soft gasp of air into his lungs. She begins, "Devon, honey, your toy is back home. You left it on the floor and remember what mommy said about toys on the..."
Captain Amazing flies through the stack of tea tins. He knocks out a brick of Japanese Sencha that smacks into the coffee cup. Jeanette pulls away. They are close to the window and when a droplet hits the bay windows of the shop, a small wisp of steam appears. Lake freezes and Captain Amazing drops to the floor onto a bed of twisted English Breakfast.
Devon sits frozen in his chair with his arms stretched out and perpendicular to his body. His fingers curl back into the palms of his hands and three amber-colored rivulets speckle his face.
"Devon! Are you ok!?" Jeanette grabs the thin cocktail napkin that came with the coffee and attacks the thin burns on the boy's face.
Devon speaks through gritted teeth, his lips also frozen and tasting the bitter tint of his muddy tears. "No!" He wheezes out two short breaths between his teeth. "Burning!" His winter coat absorbed most of the coffee, but a single stream of liquid flew under the collar of his shirt and oozed down his chest where it circled his belly button. Jeanette rips off the coat and finds the damp brown nebula spreading through the bottom of his undershirt.
The clerk has run over with a damp cloth and slapped it on the table. Jeanette drops the crumpled napkin and switches to the rag. "You're ok. See! You're ok. It was close, but you're ok!" The streaks of red across his face fade as the coffee pools on the tiles beneath them.
Devon lingers on crying, fighting the instinct to cringe and pull back into his down shell. There he finds more burning, but this one slowly absorbs into his skin, even faster once his mother dabs that part of his body. Lake is also frozen watching with a tourist's eyes.
"Say you're sorry to your brother! Say you're sorry! Lake!" Jeanette screams this as she turns the rag to the table. Wiping up slivers of tea leaves she repeats herself. "Now, Lake!"
Lake looks down to the floor, focusing on Captain Amazing. "I'm sorry." He then plunks himself down and picks up the figurine. He puts his lips together and the goes, "Whoosh!"
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Hmmm...maybe "Pornographic" is not the best title for this story. In a final version I hope to trim the details and focus on the actual event: the spilled coffee and the burning sensation. Then it can be a bit more intense. Peace!
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