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"Sometimes in the World" by C. Jake Cordova There are times when we all want to stay in our room and listen to music or watch TV. Some of us want to paint, some of us want to write, and some of us want to read or just be alone. Sure. Sometimes the world's a lonely place to be. My wife and I play in the mountains sometimes. We watch other people when we're out in public and laugh to ourselves at all the funny things we see. In just the right time and just the right mood, some of the things we laugh about would be funny to everyone, but not all the time. That's what makes being with Erin fun. Sure. Sometimes the world's a fun place to be. At times, we all find ourselves in situations we are not proud of. Small misunderstandings lead us to bad choices. We say the wrong things, and bring pain and anger to others. Sometimes we feel threatened enough to strike out and hit. Yes, sometimes we feel that bad. Sure. Sometimes the world's a bad place to be. In some ways, we're able to understand our mistakes and see our own choices in other people. Sometimes we see our own smiles on those we love. Sometimes we understand in a way no words can describe how much we really care for one another. And at times when you don't have to think about reacting, we let ourselves share a hug, an embrace, a mutual understanding and compassion. Sure. Sometimes the world's a wonderful place to be. A lot can happen in the course of one's lifetime. Sometimes we're able to look back and recount all the times we felt alone, all the fun times we shared, all the bad things we did, all the times we were forgiven, and all the wonderful moments we created just through being alive. Sure. Sometimes that's just the way life is. THE END 09-15-2002 "Two Sleek Birds" by C. Jake Cordova Two sleek birds sat atop an electrical wire, staring at the huddled masses below. Rain pelted from the dark sky above them as thunder echoed in the distance. "Have you ever seen such a downpour?" one of the birds asked the other. "Not in a hundred years." was the reply. His breath was frank with gristle and sour rinds bubbling between his small, sharp teeth. "Then again, I've never been one to notice the rain." He smiled when he said this, opening his full tattered gleam of teeth to the night sky. His fork tongue flickered slightly over his gums and his eyes squinted together in ugly glee. "No, I guess not." Said the first without emotion. He wanted very much to scoot just an inch or two away from his companion, but he didn't dare. For deep in the pit of his wee little stomach, a familiar sense of fear was bubbling. Not a fear he ever showed, but a fear that always played in the back of his mind. He wasn't like the other bird, you see. No, not by a long shot. But he'd been with him too long to back out now. Finally he mustered up some courage. "Shall we go?" "No." "No?" he questioned, sounding annoyed. "Why not?" "We're just getting started." He could see the flicker of red in the bird's black pupils. The reflection of a sewer rat twinkled against the sky like lightning. Filthy creatures, smelly and cold; just the way he liked them. Without hesitation, the first sleek creature flew from his perch high above the city and dove ever so quickly into the hustle and bustle below. Always, he went unnoticed- by people, pets, and especially… by rats. A click of his claws and a plunge near the pavement later, the prey was in his grasp. The bird changed his course immediately, turning his beak back toward the sky and, still flying, used his other claw to tear the catch in two. Without looking back, he tossed the lower piece into the air. The second bird was there to receive it. Dripping with innards and rain, the birds chomped their meals completely and flew back up into the dark clouds above, without notice, care or concern from the world below. Back to the red sparks and shimmers of their dreary wet night. THE END 9-16-2002 "The Circus" a sneak peek into my novel... by C. Jake Cordova * * * * * * * Lightning crashes against a winter sky and a snowman walks alone down a twisted, dirty path. The rain splashes against his face and he wipes mud from his eyes. Up ahead, there is a light in a window. He walks closer to find more windows and more light. It is a small café in the wilderness. Warmth! Dizzy with excitement and exhaustion, the snowman pushes his way through the door, wearily aware of several eyes upon him. The electricity inside is blinding, but the smell of pancakes and coffee is beyond delight! The snowman finds an empty booth and sits down. He leans back against the cushion and lets the atmosphere sink into him. His eyes are closed tight and a smile sits on his face. A soft voice says, "Hi there. What can I get for you this morning?" and the snowman opens his eyes to see the most beautiful creature he has ever witnessed smiling down at him. "Do you want some coffee?" "Yes, please." She stares at him for a moment longer than she should have, and there is a fiery connection that lights up the snowman's soul. A thousand ideas and creations explode in his head in that very instant. He sees the green in her eyes alive and happy. He feels the subtle force of her breath against his arm. He smells the air around her, feeling it dance and laugh. But most importantly, he sees this woman, this small soft creature who is about to speak lose her train of thought… because her heart has also caught fire. After a semi-long pause, she replied, "OK. I'll be right back." And she disappeared through the kitchen entrance. THE END(?) 9-17-2002 "Sparkle" by C. Jake Cordova I sit on the edge of a cloud and look down at the rainy city below. The wind blows through my hair. On any other night I would be cold, but tonight it feels good like electricity in my veins. My naked little plush doll turns up to me and smiles. "Hi there." She says. "Hello." I reply and twiddle my fingertips, smiling. "Do you wanna play?" "Sure." The doll pulls something out of her imaginary pocket and cups it in her hand. "Make a wish." She giggles excitedly. "OK." I close my eyes and pause. "Done." I tell her. She blinks. A crisp, wicked wind shifts the cloud. For a moment I feel as though I'll lose my balance and tumble to my death. The doll is motionless, her hands cupped together held out in front of her. Swaying to and fro, I reach for her and grab one of her wrists. "Hold on." I shout against the wind as the doll tilts her head. "You're funny." She says. "Why?" I ask. "Because I'm not going to fall. You are. It's your wish." And with that she opens her hands to reveal sparkle and flame. They leap up at me. My grasp slips and I tumble into the darkness below. On the way down I pass the falling rain and the howling wind. I slide on waves of happiness. I stumble against rough, jagged prickles. I cry tears of joy and tears of sorrow. I land in a comfortable bed of fluffy pillows. I'm not sure if I'm alive or dead- only jolted into a state of alert readiness. I open my eyes to see a soft hand cupped inside of my own. I feel as though I've woken up inside of a dream and I never want to leave. Warmth surrounds me from the inside and a smile sits neatly on my unharmed face. "What did you wish for?" she asks. "To fall in love." THE END 9-23-2002 "Hootus" by C. Jake Cordova Hootus Mayfield hung from the ledge of a thirteen story building in the Off-Center Plaza in downtown Salt Lake City by the edge of his fingers. It was clear to him in these last few minutes that his life would soon be over. No more rides on the bus, no more glares from passers-by on the sidewalk, and certainly no more orgasms. Of all of the aforementioned things, Hootus figured he'd miss the last one the most. Up until now, there was nothing he loved more than a really good ejaculation. It seemed the only time he wasn't feeling sorry for himself was when he came. Perfect pleasure. For the most part his life was a big shit pile but when Hootus closed his eyes and dreamed the most beautiful dream a lonely middle-aged man can have, it was pure bliss... He'd tilt his head slightly back, let his hand fumble over his genitalia and fantasize about her, the girl he'd sometimes see downtown waiting for the bus. The one he never got up enough nerve to talk to- the girl who sometimes, without thinking about it, ran her fingers gently over her crotch as she waited patiently for the bus. On the other hand (no pun intended), Hootus currently found himself in quite a predicament. You see, a few weeks back he grew very accustomed to viewing her accidental self-touches from every possible angle he could manage. First, he'd stand on the right side of her and notice from the corner of his eye when it happened. Then he'd watch for it on her left. Next, he'd stand behind her and wait for her elbow to lower itself from her side. After that, he'd go to greater lengths. Across the street, he'd wear sunglasses to see it undetected. He was very smooth. At night, when he laid underneath the covers and tilted his head back, he'd imagine every detail from earlier in the day. Today, he thought he'd peer at her from atop a downtown office building. Bad mistake. His fingers ached. Soon, they would let go and he would tumble. Hootus looked down at the crowd of people on the sidewalk. The girl was looking up at him. Most of the faces in the crowd seemed concerned, but hers was concentrated and direct. And then she gently moved her hand down her stomach, in between her legs. She looked at Hootus while she did this and that was all he could take. He too moved one hand over his crotch. He started rubbing as his other hand let go. As he fell, Hootus and the girl watched each other fondle themselves. Time slowed down while he dropped. People scattered, a woman screamed, but all Hootus felt was the rush of spooge on his face before he hit the ground. As he lay on the pavement, broken and cracked, the girl walked in front of him, and gently tossed her hair aside. Her hand glided once more over her sweet, secret area and she smiled. Then she turned and walked away. THE END 9-26-2002 "Not in Love" by C. Jake Cordova "I'm not in love." I kept telling myself. "It will pass." But it didn't… Soon, it was all I could think about. It consumed me from early morning to late at night. Staring at the ceiling thinking of your smile was how I spent most of my nights. I'd imagine a perfect world where I looked like everybody else. I looked good, I looked normal… and people treated me with respect and kindness. And more importantly, you loved me. Yes, many nights were spent imagining a different universe where the harsh realities of scar tissue and abnormalities didn't exist. "Are you laying in bed wishing the same thing?" Hope consumed me. "I'm not in love." I'd tell myself each day before we met. I didn't want you to feel sorry for me. Did it work? Did I fool you? Could you tell I was a gush of emotion underneath my bandages? "How are we today?" you'd ask me, casually but… sincerely. I'd hear it in your voice. I knew you really cared. "I'm alright." I'd say, as flat a tone as I could spit out. Of course, on the inside I was screaming, "I'M INCREDIBLE! I FEEL PERFECT NOW THAT I SEE YOU!! I'M WONDERFUL!" You'd never hear me say it out loud. Never. I loved to watch you dance. When you made lunch and the radio played oldies rock n' roll, your head would bob softly to the beat. Every now and again your lips mouthed the words to the songs. On occasion, you even whispered the song lyrics. So innocently unaware of the effect you had on me… Machines or not, I would have been still, in perfect attendance of your beauty. "I'm not in love." I kept telling myself. "This will pass." It took me a long time to recover after you left. The new girl was nice. She wasn't as sincere as you were when she spoke to me and she certainly never danced to the oldies. At least, if she did I never bothered to watch. When I heard you were happily married and living in another state, I told myself I was happy for you- because I really am. I'm happy for you, and I'm no longer in love with you… at least, that's what I keep telling myself. "I'm not in love." I say. "This will pass." THE END 9-27-2002 top