George Jefferson

The Car Than Almost Finished Him

Jefferson's string of Robin Hood-like robberies had been successful up until that night. He had amassed a small collection of riches hidden under his floorboards that he had purloined from undeserving drug lords, which he intended to distribute to the poor somehow. But he made a mistake; he had to have the car. It was a beautiful yellow Lamborghini Miura he had found in one particularly well-off drug dealer's garage. The Lambo was pristine and collecting dust, proof its owner didn't use it. Jefferson didn't know how he would return it to the community; he just knew that its current owner didn't deserve it in the least. So Jefferson stole it. The theft wasn't difficult; cars that old didn't have that much of a security system. The garage, on the other hand, did.

As soon as Jefferson started up that glorious engine, three thugs with machine guns ran out of the dealer's crib. Jefferson gunned the Miura in reverse and broke through the garage's wooden wall. He slung the car around and flew down the street. The thugs peeled out of the garage in two black Cadillacs. The Miura was much faster than the Cadillacs, but the thugs had machine guns, and he couldn't outrun a bullet. The thugs fired at him; his car was riddled with bullets, and his rear window shattered. Jefferson swerved left and narrowly missed hitting a minivan. The Cadillacs followed easily. Jefferson weaved through traffic wildly, but the thugs still kept up. Then he saw flashing red and blue lights in his rearview mirror - three police cars had not surprisingly taken notice of their activities. Two of them rammed the Cadillacs and forced them off the road. The third followed Jefferson. Jefferson floored it. The police car could barely keep up, and Jefferson almost got away. Then it began to sleet.

The sleet made a sound similar to the bullets as they hit his car. Jefferson could barely see. A truck pulled out in front of him and he swerved into the left lane, then back into the right as another car almost hit him head on. Jefferson spun out of control, but regained it and sped down an adjacent street. The police car was still hot on his tail. Jefferson slowed down; the Miura's speed was no use to him if he couldn't see. The hail grew heavier. Jefferson looked in his mirrors. More cars had joined the chase. This would have to end soon. The lights of Washington Heights stood out in the darkness. He would have to ditch the car; he knew this now. At least it wouldn't be in the hands of a drug dealer. Suddenly, a black van pulled out in front of Jefferson. He swerved right. He didn't see the small coupe until it was too late.

The coupe backed out of the garage. The Miura's headlights illuminated it suddenly. Jefferson didn't have time to think. He slammed the brakes. It was useless. The Miura slammed head on into the coupe's trunk. The trunk was obliterated. The Miura lost contact with the ground. It flipped over several times. It landed in an abandoned storefront. Everything stopped.

Jefferson came to. The hail had stopped. He was lying upside down in an upside down Miura in the front of an abandoned building. Everything hurt; something was bleeding. Cars that old didn't have much of a safety system. Jefferson laboriously pulled himself out of the wreck. He knew he didn't have much time before the police got there. He peeked out of the gaping hole in the front of the building. The coupe was sitting in the middle of the street, its rear end completely smashed in. A trail of glass and metal lay between it and the Miura. The coupe's owner was climbing out of his car. Jefferson recognized him as Ryan Ford, one of the tenants of Washington Heights. He looked shaken but mostly uninjured. Then Jefferson saw the police cars zoom around the corner; they must have been stopped by the black van. Jefferson stumbled out the back of the abandoned building and into the street.

He was able to evade the police as he limped back to his apartment. He walked behind the Chinese restaurant near Washington Heights so that he could get in through the back entrance. He saw the kid who worked there speed away on his bike. He hoped the kid didn't see him. Jefferson snuck in through rear entrance of his building and into the elevator. He pressed the button to his floor. He felt terrible. His mind raced and he couldn't think straight. He pulled a shard of yellow metal out of his bulletproof vest and dropped it on the elevator floor. The doors opened and he walked awkwardly into the hall. He stumbled to his room, opened his door, and fell straight onto his bed. He felt terrible. Sirens sounded throughout the night.

Chapter

Once again, the weather is rainy and overcast. There is also, strangely enough, an ice cream truck that passes through the neighborhood around 4:00 in the afternoon -- just in time to catch the children coming home from school.......

Henrietta Flogsbottom

Chapter Five: Getting Angry at Achilles because that is how it goes.

As Mrs. Flogsbottom trudged up the windy street to Manny's Grocery, she couldn't help but notice a black van circling the street every once and a while. It must be a group of people who are utterly in love with me, she thought, watching the van slowly pass her. They know what I am about to do, but in my rage I will not go to their waiting arms! I must fight with Achilles but I will not betray him to people who ride around in a rather ugly van....
Mrs. Flogsbottom almost dreaded seeing the faint sign of Manny's come to view; this was going to be a very tricky chapter. She had to fight with him, but not too much. He couldn't be so very mad that he would not ever forgive, or take more than 2 chapters to get over- Chapter seven was fast approaching, and she needed everything to be perfect! Walking into the creaking door of the store, Mrs. Flogsbottom looked around for her love.
The annoying girl at the counter was smacking her loud pink gum and smirked slightly as she saw Mrs. Flogsbottom's dress. Green and pink plaid hearts littered the the white dress she wore with her matching hot pink cat shaped bag. Mrs. Flogsbottom had no time to flirt with that floozy, so she walked down aisle. Achilles was on his knees putting milk back on the shelves. His lily white butt crack peeked over the rim of his pants, but Mrs. Flogsbottom averted her eyes, pain before pleasure. Achilles looked up and smiled. "Why hello Mrs. Flogsbottom! What a perfect day to see such a lovely lady." He said.
Mrs. Flogsbottom stopped... He wasn't supposed to be nice, didn't he know the chapter??? She flicked her nose up sexually but also angry. "It's a horrible day, is the day all you think about?" She asked, folding her arms in front of her. Achilles looked at her confused.
"No, I like the night too-" He started, trying to make a joke, but Mrs. Flogsbottom cut in.
"Yes, I'm sure you would, I have heard about you Achilles Manus! I know the type of man you are! How could I ever have thought we were meant to be if you go off with your dime store floozys! Well I cannot take this anymore, I am a real woman and I need something only a real man can give me. You know where I live when you finally decide to be a man!" Mrs. Flogsbottom said, storming out of the grocery store.
It was perfect, better than she could have hoped. They had fought, very briefly, but she said all she had to say, now it was only waiting for another chapter or two for him to come around. Henrietta wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and began to walk home.
Her attention was distracted by the ever present black van, and she nearly ran over Snazy Filazy.
"Oh I'm sorry dear!" She said, wait, this is the girl that rhymes... "My eye sight was not clear!" Henrietta smiled at her clever rhyme. "Now, uh, what are you doing out here?"
Snazy looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking. "There is a man, fine as can be, but I acted like a cat too scared who climbed up a tree. He plays the guitar, I think he can go far. But I cannot even talk to him, he makes my mind and heart swim!"
Henrietta thought Snazy was simply trying to cover her feelings for Henriette- everyone had them, why not this peculair rhyming girl?
Henrietta patted her hand. "Dear, there are other fish in the sea, if yours is taken, which I know 'he' is, than maybe you should look for another one." With a final wave Mrs. Flogsbottom left Snazy and continued her way home.
Snazy opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped. Poor girl, I broke her heart... Well, that is life. Now, I must wait.... oh dear, I do hate waiting... But Mrs. Flogsbottom knew she could wait, she would have to. Love could wait a long time... but not too long. She turned her head as the van passed again.

Maria

Apartment #982: Manholes and Countertops

The frozen dinners in my freezer were surrounded by ice and made me cold just looking at them. The cheese was sticky so I had thrown it out. The broccoli had a brown spot and was no good anymore. With no food in the fridge, I was forced to look elsewhere.

"I hope that the diner isn't sticky," I muttered as I hopped the sidewalk outside of the Washington Heights apartment building and moved quickly across the street. My shoes made an odd hollow sound as I stepped onto the manhole, so I stopped and looked down. The cover was black and shining in the dusk, the streetlights bounced off the melted sleet at strange angles. I shivered, thinking about all of the germs and animals and... gross things... that lived under the cover. It terrified me, and yet I couldn't step away. "Rats, sludge, germs, gross, sticky, bugs, roaches, old food, rats..."

A horn honking suddenly made me look up and jump out of the way of an oncoming van that didn't slow at all for me. I hopped out of the street just in time to watch it skid past, black against the streetlamps. I heard a siren in the distance. "Vans and sirens, great place to choose to live, Maria," I chastised myself, yet again. Sigh.

A man jostled past me, glass bottle in his hand. Although it glistened prettily in the dimming light, I thought he probably had had enough since the smell of alcohol drifted off of him already. I raised my eyebrows realizing it was my neighbor, the man who had given me the crisp ten. "Happy hour's over," I said quietly, glancing away. He paused to look at me for a moment; I wasn't sure if he had heard my words.

"I thought you didn't like sidewalks," he smirked, and walked away.

I looked down and nearly jumped out of my skin. "Ah!" I cried, louder than I had intended. I hopped off the sidewalk and back into the street. "I'd rather be here with the threat of vans then on the dirty sidewalk."

I stepped out of the night and into the fluorescent lighting of the diner, jumping the sidewalk on my way inside. I was pleased to see that it looked rather clean. The table nearest me even sparkled contentedly. A girl at the counter was wiping down the table with a white rag. "That looks clean, too," I commented to no one in particular. But the girl heard me and looked up from her work. "What can we do for you tonight?" she asked pleasantly enough, but something in her look made me think of caution and fear.

"Just here to get some dinner," I muttered, looking up and down the counter for something to distract her attention from me. I hated it when people stared at me. Like I was some freak. Like there was something obviously wrong with me. But i had always thought that my oddities were only visible when actually talking to me... maybe I was wrong?

"Sit anywhere you like," the girl said, and went back to cleaning. I sighed quietly.

That was when I saw him. Seated in the last swivel chair at the counter, hunched over a half-empty plate of relatively edible-looking food. He was engrossed in his dinner, eyes down to his plate, feet propped up on the rail of the stool. The waitress seemed to be avoiding him, but he didn't even seem to notice.

I did, though. I noticed him, much more often than he realized, probably. When sitting in my living room at home I was always conscious of the sounds from across the hall, doors opening and closing, footsteps up and down the hall. I awaited his quiet smiles when we passed in the halls. Hearing him say "Good morning, Maria," whenever he hurried past me, off to school, was often the best part of my day. Even if I was in the middle of freaking out or calming down about something or another, his presence always made me pause.

I took a step across the linoleum and towards him. "What are you doing, Maria?" I asked, almost silently. "What are you doing? He doesn't even notice you. He just smiles to be polite. He doesn't notice you." I was still walking slowly towards him. I slid into the seat next to him, and it was only after a moment that he looked up from his plate. That small smile spread across his face in recognition, and my stomach dropped a few inches. "Hey, Maria," he said quietly, "I wouldn't have taken you for the diner type."

I actually grinned in reply before I realized what I had done. I blushed. His smile widened as he looked back down to his food and continued to eat.

Sloan Waters

I am standing on the Pier, looking at the ocean that is spread out in front of me. It is such a gorgeous picture, I am breathless. The skirt of my white dress billows in the wind, my hair is flying everywhere. I am so entranced by the ocean I do not hear him come up behind me. All of a sudden his big, strong arms incase me, making me feel so safe. He kisses the top of my head and says, " I love you so much. You know that, right?" I turn around and look at him. At his beautiful face. "Yes."

I wake up to a loud noise that is going on outside of my window. Damn. I hate this place.....is there construction going on somewhere?
I look out the window and see that the sleet is what is making so much noise.
I am surprised to see some crazy lady running down the street, chasing after something that must've gotten caught in the wind...
that's why you don't go outside when the weather is THIS bad....duh.

I finally ate something today....an apple. I must say, it wasn't as good as I thought that it would be. i had to drink a beer to get rid of its after taste. I guess that my body needs something, though. I have been feeling so weak, lately.

I hate this weather. It has been so miserable outside for the past couple of weeks. I peer out of my window again, this time seeing a black van making its way slowly up Baker Street. Hm.
I close the curtains.
I hate this weather.
I am cold......blankets?
Where are my blankets?
I find one underneath the bed and wrap it around me. I go and sit on my couch.....I find a cigarette squished between the cushions. My lighter is on the coffee table. God. I love smoke.
I look at my wrists. They are looking a little better today. After my cutting frenzy, they began to swell and turn purple. Thank God they look better. I hate doctors.
I finish my cigarette and smash the butt on my cushion...a bad habit.
I close my eyes, the rhythmic noise of the sleet is now putting me to sleep.

I look in the mirror. My hair is in its usual messy ponytail, my teeth are brushed, make-up is on. I have on my new sun dress that hugs my naturally thin body.
I smile.
Today is the day.
I leave my apartment at exactly 12:00 p.m. We are meeting at a little restaurant in Manhattan called Imagio's at 12:30. We all know that New York traffic is a mess.
My red pumps click as I skip down the stairs. I am so excited.
The weather outside is gorgeous: sunny, cloudless, in the high seventies. I love this weather.
I wave hello to Victor, the bellman. He blows me a kiss and calls me a taxi.
"Have a wonderful day, love," he smiles at me.
"Why thank you," I smile back.
He tells the taxi driver where I need to go as I look out the window onto the streets of New York city. In this beautiful weather, in this beautiful city, all I can think of is how today is the day.

Lulu Lamar

Another Dreary Day

Lulu had yet another boring uninteresting day. Nothing of any significance had happened to her. Her job hadn't picked up. Absolutely no one wanted flowers and it looked like the job at grocery store was her last chance. Lulu looked blankly out the window. The weather was as usual crumby. It was cold, wet and dark. She could see the sleet falling in the beams of light from the street lights. People ran by on the sidewalks trying to get to where ever they were going. Suddenly Lulu felt a warm wet tongue on her arm. Sinclair was by her side and had a longingly look in his eyes. She knew that look Sinclair needed to use the facilities. So, Lulu begrudgingly got up to take Sinclair down to the patch of grass by the building. She put on a raincoat, scarf and gloves grabbed Sinclair and his leash and headed out the door. They walked slowly down the hallway to the elevator and she pressed the button. It lit up and she watched the numbers above the door come down from the tenth floor. The doors opened and an angry woman stood tapping her foot with an annoyed look on her face. She gave Lulu a half hearted smile as she and Sinclair walked on, then pressed the door close button. Lulu recognized the woman. She had seen her before in the elevator and always came down from the tenth floor. She never seemed to be in a good mood, but living in Washington Height's alone could account for that feeling. She thought that her name started with an 'm'. Marilyn, no. Martha, no. Mary, no. Mandi, well maybe that's it. Yes Mandi that's it! The elevator had reached the ground floor and the two walked out and went to the front door. Mandi went left and Lulu went right toward the grassy patch with Sinclair. She walked carefully along the sidewalk avoiding the icy patches. They reached the grass and Sinclair did his business. As he was going, Lulu looked back toward the building yearning to be back in the warmth. A black van slowly pulled up to the sidewalk by the entrance and a man got out of the passenger side. He looked nervous and young. The van pulled away and he looked back to watch it pull away than he walked into the building. Sinclair had finished and they headed back. Warm filled Lulu's body as she walked through the door. Washington Height's may be old and broken down, but at least it was warm. As Lulu walked in, the man from the van got on the elevator. Lulu walked over to the elevator just as the doors closed. She pressed the up button and watched the numbers above the door go up and stop at floor eight. They continued up to ten then eleven and then slowly came back down. Lulu and Sinclair walked onto the now empty elevator and headed to the fifth floor both ready to go to bed.

Chloe Parks

recycling.

Chloe got up early. It was not an staggered awakening like most, laying in bed for a while before deciding whether to actually wake up or just go back to sleep. She sat upright quickly, pulled back the covers, and got in the shower. She scrubbed at her dull, dry skin, lathering it with thick, rich soap over and over again.
As she walked down Baker Street she thought of the old Gerry Rafferty song, and smiled. She was unobservant of passerbys. She walked without a purpose for hours until her feet hurt and she needed a cigarette. When she got back to her apartment she almost ran into a girl with take out food under her arm. The girl had a bruises on her face which only reminded Chloe of what a dump Washington Heights was.
Chloe apologized, but the girl seemed unconcerned:
"No problem. Taking the elevator?" She said putting her hand on the door.
"Eh, no, the stairs actually. Thanks though." Chloe walked up to her apartment and began to clean her kitchen, pausing periodically to lit her cigarettes in the gas stove.
In her cabinets she found more expensive glassware, this time from her grandmother's wedding gifts. It was a glass shoe that looked like the elves and the shoemaker could have possibly made it. She found a whole box full of them mixed in with her silverware. Hideous she thought. She took the box and placed it outside her room door, far enough that someone could take it without feeling guilty, but close enough so that they would know it belonged to her.
After her sudden spurt of cleaning, Chloe uncorked a bottle of wine and sat silently by the window. The sun was setting, and the sun was blinding. Chloe shut the window and pulled the shades down. She crawled back into bed and laid there for hours in a contented thoughtfulness. She knew she didn't like the way she lived, but she didn't know how to change it, so instead she stared at the fan blades and pulled the covers up over her chin like she was a little kid.

Bron Barnheart

Brone Barnheart Apt. 223

I was not walking in the rain, today it was sleeting. My feet decided it was a wonderful day for a walk, and there was really no point in arguing. “It didn’t have rabies in its life, I swear!” the tiny taxidermist trying to hustle me, as always. “Nah, it’s just not for me” I responded, and shuffled on. As I passed the laundry mat the owner shot me a look. I rolled my eyes and continued on, figuring I was not welcome. The glass doors retracted as I entered. I smelled that distinctly sickening smell of purified air and pine tree scent. Capitalism at it’s finest. “Welcome to Manny’s,” A pimply faced teen said with complete apathy, smacking her gum. Suddenly I felt as if I had the urge to go somewhere. I quickly turned left walked a ways and then turned left again. “Oh, of course.” I was staring at Manny’s shoddy looking Alcohol section. “Hmmm, a 7$ no name-brand vodka….” It was tempting. I went back and got a basket. After gabbing 3 bottles of the no name vodka I went and got 2 cartons of orange juice. I may be able to hold my liquor but I’m no maniac. Besides, it will make it last an extra day, maybe. I approached the teenager at the register. She looked at my basket, and then she looked at me, frowning.
“Sir, are you 21?” My expression turned cold,
“I’m 28.”
“I need to see some proof.” It was at this point I realized that Michael was currently changing the name on my I.D. for no particular reason. This was going to be a pain.
“Have you ever tried to clean up shards of window pane with a broom?” I said.
“You don’t scare me,” she retorted, blowing a bubble.
“…”
“…” It popped.
“…I have a gun.” I finally said.
“Re-Really?!” her face brightened up.
“Uh, ya.”
“Can I see it!!” she was way too excited.
“Huh?”
“Come on, lemmie see you gun!” She got louder. I hate kids.
“Calm down asshat”
“PLEEEEAAAASE?” People were starting to stare.
“Alright look, ring up my stuff and I’ll wave it around for you.” I said.
“Really?” She was like a puppy that needed to be kicked.
“yeah….really.” I said.
“AWESOME” She finally rang up my stuff.
“That’ll be, 35.31.”

I wonder if my wallet has any money. I checked. A new 100 was staring me in the face. “huh…” I gave the twerp the hundred, and she quickly returned my change.
"Now can you show me?”
“Nope, Bye!” I grabbed my grocery bag and sprinted out of the door. She couldn’t even react, all just part of the job. I kept running though for fear she would chase me down.
Then I saw a little girl skipping ahead,
And without a second thought I jumped high overhead.
As I landed my bottles clinked and rattled.
She looked surprised so I thought it best to skedaddle.
Back in my apartment I drank many drinks.
Then I fell asleep, me thinks…Hic.