Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Flash From The Past 4

Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

This is an old story I originally wrote during college, years ago, for my creative writing class. It is a fictitious, urban story that came from I don’t remember, but it was fun to write. Editing and few changes were made prior to publishing here.

Jackey and The Stranger at The Bus Stop Pt 4

“My name is Kenneth,” said the stranger as he walked onto the blue and grey bus just as the driver opened the doors. Jackey looked both ways. Desmond’s car was nowhere in sight. So she decided to get on the bus before it took off. Jackey sat at the front of the bus. Kenneth sat across from her.

“What’s up with your ride?” he asked. “You are too pretty to be stood up.”

“You ask so many questions.” Jackey shook her head and laughed.

“Would I freak you out if I ask for your number?”

“Yes stranger.”

“Let me give you mine then. Trust me, I’m no freak, just a fool for letting my supervisor talk me into getting this shift.”

Jackey laughed.

“See I’m making you laugh.”

It had been a week after Jackey had been stood up. She would not talk to Desmond. Jackey ignored his calls and instead she would call Kenneth. Maybe it was because she and Desmond had become just as much as strangers as her and Kenneth was.

Maybe it was because Kenneth made her laugh or because he was different from Desmond, from his looks to personality. Kenneth worked a steady job at a shipping company and didn’t seem to have a problem with it except for sometimes working late at night to the early morning. He wasn’t a thug. He was more open and they would talk for hours on the phone. He had plans, not just goals. He had plans to save enough money to take criminal justice classes at a local college. But so he said.

Although Jackey liked Kenneth, she still thought about Desmond. A month went by and they hadn’t talked. Desmond had stopped calling after awhile. Jackey was busy with voice and dance practice, classes, and styling hair. She and Kenneth only went out once for pizza. They talked on the phone but not as often as they did after they first met, and sometimes Jackey would ride the bus with him.

One night after cleaning and locking up the salon, Jackey turned down rides from Sandra and Brian. She walked outside to the bus stop at 9:50. Kenneth was not there standing under the dim light. She glanced down the street. The streets were quiet. Pieces of paper were flying back and forth in the Chicago winds. The salon was closed, locked and dark. The store was open but there seemed to be no life near it except for Jackey and the clerk tucked away behind the counter inside the old store. Jackey turned back around facing the streets and flipped open her phone. It read 9:55.

Maybe he’s running late again, she thought.

She heard the old convenient store’s door creak and shut. She saw a shadow appear upon the ground next to her. She turned her head around to see a silhouette of a man in a black leather jacket.

She smiled.

“Kenneth.”

The stranger stepped forward.

To her dismay, Desmond stepped from out of the dim light with both hands in his pants pockets just looking. His head was cocked to the side. His eyebrows raised and his eyes were sharp and penetrating.

“Is that his name?” asked Desmond. He reached into his coat. Startled by Desmond, Jackey looked worried. Desmond was quiet. Jackey took a step backward. Desmond pulled out his cell phone that was vibrating. He looked up at Jackey’s face and scrunched up his eyebrows. “You thought I was gone hurt chu. I just wanted to talk to you. You weren’t answering my calls. I heard you were talking to this other guy. I even saw you out with him at the pizza place.”

Bright lights slowly covered Desmond and Jackey as the bus came rolling and rocking down the street. “Hold that bus,” shouted a man running down the street towards Jackey, Desmond and the bus. It was Kenneth and he noticed Jackey. She stood in shock as he approached her and Desmond.

The bus stopped right in front of them. Kenneth made it to the bus. He stopped alongside Jackey but she said nothing. She was embarrassed for some reason. Desmond watched both with his head still cocked to the side, his cell phone in his hand. He and Kenneth wore the same black leather jacket. Kenneth walked onto the bus, paid his fare, and took a window seat in the rear of the bus. His eyes locked into Desmond’s eyes as the bus took off. Jackey turned and watched the bus go down the street.

She was going to tell Kenneth that she wanted him and her to just be friends.

“Why didn’t you get on the bus with him?” asked Desmond.

“I didn’t want to. Tonight I was gone tell him we should just be friends anyway.”

“And us?” asked Desmond.

“Are you ready to talk? asked Jackey.

“You’re the one who been ignoring my phone calls. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Can I take you home then?” Jackey looked him up and down. He smiled that same smile that softened his rough features. “Yeah,” she said almost in a whisper. How come you didn’t pick me up that night?” she asked curiously.

“Honestly,” he said. I went into the house round ten to grab my hat and some music I had been working on. I wanted you to hear it. Someone broke into my apartment. They took everything even my music equipment. I was so damn mad that me and Chris were driving round trying to find my stuff and who took it. Then we got pulled over by the po pos who were looking for who robbed the currency exchange. I told them I’m looking for the people who took my stuff. And if it was those same ones, they better find them first.”

“Man, I’m sorry Dez,” said Jackey.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about my brother and those promises I made.” Desmond said as if those very promises had just rushed back to his mind. She put her left arm around his back and her hand on his chest. He put his arm around her waist and his hand on her hip. She leaned in closer. She knew she had to apologize to Kenneth, but right now she wanted to make things right with Desmond.

Hope you have enjoyed Jackey and The Stranger at The Bus Stop

Please feel free to leave feedback.

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Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Flash From The Past 3

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Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

This is an old story I originally wrote during college, years ago, for my creative writing class. It is a fictitious, urban story that came from I don’t remember, but it was fun to write. Editing and few changes were made prior to publishing here.

Jackey And The Stranger At The Bus Stop Pt. 3

It was a week after Jackey and Desmond’s argument. On a particular night, Sandra, Brian and Jackey cleaned and locked up the shop. Brian and Sandra walked to their cars ten feet from the bus stop. “You sure you don’t need a ride,” asked Brian.

“Desmond is on his way. I’ll see you Tuesday.” Jackey watched the two get in their cars and she went and stood next to the white and blue bus sign. Jackey and Desmond had not broken up, and in fact they had had arguments before but never anything major. Yet, Desmond did not apologize to Jackey and he promised he would pick her up from work like he always did.

And as always, Desmond took his time like he did down their high school hallways. Jackey was leaning on the sign’s pole. She flipped open her cell phone. It was 10:50. The only lights came from the street lights and the dimly lit old convenient store. She let out a deep breath and sighed. She was going to go back into the shop. She had the key and was starting to feel the chills after waiting in the cold.

“What time does this bus come,” asked a startling voice from behind her. Jackey quickly turned around. Her medium long black hair with plum colored streaks flapped against her face. She hadn’t noticed the stranger standing against the old convenient store next to the salon.

The store was so old that the signs were missing letters and the door had chipped paint. The light over the door and inside the store was so dim that if it wasn’t for the street lights, there wouldn’t be enough light to guide customers into the old store.

The stranger stood in the shadows under the dim light waiting for an answer.

“I think it came at 10:30,” said Jackey.

“I’m already running late,” the man said. He bent his leg and put his feet up on the store’s brick wall. He flapped his hand against the bent leg’s thigh.

Jackey squinted but couldn’t see the man’s features clearly.

“Why didn’t you get a ride with your friends?” the stranger asked.

“I’m waiting for my own ride,” said Jackey. “By the way, do I know you?” she asked defensively.

“Late huh?” he asked ignoring her defensive attitude. You know it’s not good for you to be out here by yourself at night.”

“I know and why you bothered by it anyway,” Jackey said rolling her eyes. She didn’t mean to be hostile but the stranger was right. She didn’t need to be out here at night talking to God knows who and waiting for Desmond.

“Just concerned,” said the stranger.

As the bus finally neared, the stranger who was wearing a brown work uniform and black leather jacket stepped forward out of the dim light. He was a clean cut guy and wore a haircut that looked as if it was freshly cut. His eyes were dark brown and shiny. His eyebrows and cheekbones rose up when he smiled. His mouth formed a crooked but pleasant smile. Jackey was taken by surprise and she smiled back.

To Be Continued….

Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Help

Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

Recently, I had an anxiety attack. But….I’m happy to say I fought it but not without God’s grace and strategies. Alone in a classroom with worn carpet, ununiformed chairs, desks, and tables, I prayed, sang along to worship music, recited God’s Word with as much confidence that could be mustered, took deep breaths, focused in on my breathing, texted my best friend to share my ordeal, and then I tried to face it. But when the Holy Spirit also led me to pick up my pen and grab my notebook, I was able to release it. (A couple of lines were added after the initial writing.)

Help

She could no longer run. She tried to hide but her breathing was as loud and frantic as the rain.

As the rain pranced on the pavement and tapped against her window, she began to pray that the nerves in her stomach would relax. That the hairs on the back of her neck would comfortably rest upon it instead of standing erect in fear. That her breathing focused and grew patient.

That the intruder would be revealed. What did the intruder want from her? How did the intruder find her? She gave no permission for this being to inhabit her space.

Even if she could, she would not scream. She gripped her knees with one arm as she leaned against the wall next to her nightstand. All the while, she kept her eyes fixed on the door that was shutting out the intruder and his intensions. She reached for her pad and pen to scribble for help.

She needed help. There is an intruder but the intruder feels so familiar. She was being dragged towards despair yet frozen in fear. Her thoughts churned, her pen moved, and the rain continued to tap also for her attention. She needed help.

Little did she realize that help was already present. He had arrived when she began to pray. He was devoted towards saving her life. She paused her pen and closed her eyes. She quieted her soul for it had grown loud with fear. She focused on her savior. “I am a present help in the time of trouble,” he said. She could no longer hear the intruder, no longer feel the intruder. Maybe this was a false alarm, but her body and soul had believed it was real.

For God hath not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 KJV