What He Saw Shook...

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A short story i wrote some time ago. i need to write more...


What he saw shook…

Dreams that used to be pristine and gorgeous are now barren, broken to dust. (No, I’m not going to finish that first sentence.) It began absolute. Absolute lust with lying eyes, laying out life so precious and pretty. We guard ourselves from others and others from themselves. We are perfect people in our eyes, and we need you to see that reflection as well. This day proved to shatter the mirror.

Don’t look at me. Love me as I was. I am pure. These are the sum of such thoughts Darla thought, as Anthony ran down the hallway to the safe fortitude of his room, all smeared with love.

Anthony’s room breathed so spiritual and free. 6 hours of painting and repainting until the clouds on his walls were heavens. Even the ceiling sported puffs of angel dust and cottony groups of fluff. It was if Anthony lived in the heaven he came from, everyday. Wallpaper would have been just fine, but Darla wanted uniqueness, her own hand to draw his world. Jeff thought it would soften his son, but Anthony was too forceful and pigheaded to break. He was a man since birth and nothing would change that permanently. Well…until today. Today he was a shaken little boy.


Darla is, was and will forever be guarded. “I want him to see me the way I want”, she told her chuckling husband. “Jeff! It’s not funny! You’re a jerk, you know that?” “If you say so.” Muttered Jeff indifferently.

Stop staring at the wall Darla. There’s no truth written there. There’s no easy way out. No way to make that march down the hall any more proud and majestic. Just take it head on if you must. And pull Jeff down with you, hehe. “Come on Honey!” commanded Darla. “Hmph! I don’t know why you’re worrying so much. Didn’t it ever happen to y…..?” “NEVER!” she interjects before he can even finish his cop out.

A mile is a mile and this felt like one but wasn’t. It was fifty feet at best. Past the ruins of a picture perfect façade. The walls of this hallway held more pictures than one would think a life could depict. One of the 3-day-old father holding his pride in his arms wrapped in a swaddling blanket. You know that one, with the reddish pink and blue stripe that every new child cuddles with in his first hours on this earth. After the escape from home-base, and before the healing is over. And yes we men remember the maiming of circumcision you inflict on us. The, “He’s just a baby, he won’t remember it” excuse holds no weight. Pain is pain.

A mile is a mile and this felt like one but wasn’t. Fifty feet at best I’d wager. Trudging past the temple of a family of three on picture day. Clip-on ties and penny loafers. Too long, gray Farrah slacks covering the blue-striped tube socks beneath. Dad’s hand me down, silk-like (rayon) pocket square. Half poofed afros. A young man’s transition between adult and baby teeth. Mom’s favorite flowered dress in purple and silver, accompanying gloves, and heels better for wear. They’ve taken much too many laps around the floors of the church. Soothing your small life to sleep. Father’s discount-find of a pinstripe suit. Silk, woven, gold flecked paisley tie, framed with the dark, almost navy button down Armani irregular shirt with the club collar. If they only knew his secret. He’s not rich, yet looks the part of brooks brothers to a tee.

A mile is a mile and this felt like and actually…it was. A mile is a short trip from the dark to the light. From passive to passion. He knew something he didn’t want. Poor Anthony. Childhood fades away a little more. Contrary to popular opinion, you can’t lose knowledge. Only tuck it away in the vast trunk of your memory. Under the time you were too excited in front of the whole class of 5th graders you called friend and enemy. The boys understood. Ms. Jett was oh so scrumptious. They all were glad they didn’t have to stand at that moment she bent over in her tight, burgundy wool skirt. They felt your pain and laughed at it at the same time. Recalling that event helped you to understand. So when Darla told Anthony of love and its physical expression, he understood. And when he saw his father Jeff’s slight grin, he felt that connection from boy to man and realized that jump from one to the other, was quite capable.

Now let’s finish that first sentence. “What he saw, shook away the fears of a boy’s jump to manhood.”