Writing Projects

I wouldn’t consider myself a writer, but I am fascinated by storytelling, both in content and delivery. Sometimes, you just have an idea for a piece and it haunts you until you write the whole thing down. Here are some of those pieces for me.

It Starts with an Idea.

It starts with an idea. 
You start your day, but you know the idea is still there. 
You drink water. 
You walk step by step. 
But the idea. 
You want to write a story. 
You see people come. 
You see people go. 
Their words come in one ear and out the other. 
They are pushed out by the idea. 
But you’re not a writer. 
So you keep on with your day. 
You see flowers, grass, trees. 
But all you truly see is this idea. 
But you don’t think you’re good enough. 
You can’t write at all. 
So you swipe your way into the subway. 
You see the people going from place to place. 
Stop after stop, you hear the sounds. 
The car, the rails, the people. 
But the loudest thing is the idea. 
And you love the idea so much. 
But maybe people will think it’s too corny. 
Maybe people will think you’re trying to be too smart. 
But goddamn do you want to give it a try. 
And that’s when it hits you. 
Your heart has picked your next steps for you. 
You get home. 
You run to your computer. 
You sit down. 
And you let your fingers go. 
It starts with an idea.

The Three of Us

Adam makes himself coffee and sits down at the table.
Carl and Tony walk into the kitchen.
Adam to Tony: “Pour Carl some orange juice.”
Tony to Adam: “Fine.”
Adam to Tony: “Don’t forget to give him the red straw this time.”
Tony to Adam: “I didn’t forget last time. I just don’t give two shits whether Carl uses a red or blue straw.”
Carl: “But I like the red straws more.”
Adam to Tony: “Exactly, so give him the red straw this time.”
Tony: “Urgh…fine.”
Carl happily sips on his orange juice.
Tony grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels and starts pouring it into a glass.
Adam to Tony: “You shouldn’t be drinking.”
Tony to Adam: “Who says I can’t drink in the morning?”
Adam to Tony: “I didn’t say you shouldn’t drink in the morning. I said you shouldn’t be drinking. Like period. Not until you’re of age at least.”
Tony to Adam: “You’re the one who started drinking so young.”
Adam to Tony: “You did too.”
Carl: “Can I try some?”
Adam and Tony: “NO!”
Silence.
Tony makes pancakes for both him and Carl.
The three boys begin to eat breakfast at the kitchen table.
Tony to Carl: “So Chris grabs three drinks at the bar. One for me, one for him, and one for Alec. Chris is low-key forever in debt to Alec since he let him stay at his place for a month while his mom was MIA. Guess that’s kinda high-key though, but whatever. Anyway, once he gets to the table, a bunch of people show up. Vicky and her girls come through, along with Daniel, Steve, and a bunch of the other boys. Morris, too. You know Morris.”
Carl to Tony: “Yeah, he sucks. Never wants to play Legos with me.”
Tony to Carl: “He’s a good guy, I promise. He’s one of my best friends. Just never liked Legos as a kid.”
Tony to Carl: “Okay, so then a bunch of douchebags follow them in. And you can almost smell the fiendishness sweating out of them from across the room. The second Vicky sits down next to me; she suddenly gets stuck being hit on by one of these douches. Like you can tell Vicky was not okay with the situation.”
Carl to Tony: “Ew gross. So what did you guys do?”
Tony to Carl: “Well obviously we couldn’t let a bunch of fucking assholes make our girl feel uncomfortable. So we shoved him away.”
Carl to Tony: “Woah! What did he do back?”
Tony to Carl: “Well…”
Adam to Tony: “Adam, stop telling Carl these kind of stories. They aren’t fit to be heard by someone his age.”
Carl to Adam: “But I wanna know what happens!”
Tony to Adam: “Exactly. Don’t you want to know what happens too?”
Adam to Tony: “I know what happens. I was there.”
Tony to Adam: “Oh, right, of course.”
Tony: “Well anyway, basically, we beat those faggots to a pulp.”
Carl: “So faggots means douchebags?”
Tony and Adam: “No, no, no!”
Adam: “NOT what that means, Carl!”
Adam to Tony: “You see what I mean, Tony! You don’t THINK. You think you think, but you only think about what you want to happen, and force your way to that goal. But that’s not how life works. You can’t just force something to happen, because maybe it won’t happen.”
Tony to Adam: “Sounds like you’ve just given up!”
Adam to Tony: “Don’t act like you don’t know what we’re actually fucking talking about here, Tony! Open your fucking eyes! She hates you! She hates everything about you! She sees no redeeming qualities in you whatsoever!”
Silence.
Carl to Tony: “…she doesn’t sound nice, Tony.”
Tony to Carl: “…she isn’t, sometimes.”
Adam to Carl: “No, she’s just confused. Just as confused as Tony.”
Silence.
Adam to Tony: “She isn’t worth it you know?”
Tony to Adam: “Shut up.”
Adam to Tony: “No, you need to hear this. You can’t keep running away from this forever.”
Tony to Adam: “Fine, say whatever you’re going to say. But don’t expect me to care.”
Adam to Tony: “She doesn’t love you back. And you barely love her anyway. You are in love with the idea of her. And you think that idea is enough to make it work but it doesn’t.”
Tony to Adam: “You’re wrong. It is enough. You’ve just forgotten how to love. How to feel any sense of emotion. And again, you’re wrong. I do love her.”
Adam to Tony: “What? Because every time she tells you to roll down your sleeves cuz she thinks it’s silly, you smile? Because you guys can talk for hours about nothing and yet those hours feel like everything? Because when you were feeling down but told no one about it, she brought you orange juice since she knows that’s your favorite?”
Carl: “Orange juice huh? She sounds pretty cool.”
Tony to Carl: “She IS pretty cool.”
Adam to Tony: “Because when she hurt you, she found the time to say ‘I’m sorry’? Because she knows every little detail about you and no one seems to get you like her? Because she said I love you before you said it to her so she must mean it?
Tony to Adam: “…what’s your point?” Adam to Tony: “What’s my point? Tony…she hates when you roll up your sleeves, but YOU like doing it. You guys don’t talk for hours, she does. She brought you orange juice because she felt guilty and hated feeling guilty, not because she cared…” Tony to Adam: “…please stop…”
Adam to Tony: “…she found time to say sorry? She hurt you, Tony. Real bad. She knows every detail about you so she can have full control…and she doesn’t love you, Tony…she just…” 
Tony to Adam: “…SHUT THE FUCK UP ADAM!” 
Tony throws his glass of Jack at Adam, but it misses and shatters on the floor. 
Tony slowly walks over to the shattered glass and begins to clean up. 
Adam walks over to Tony and begins to help clean up. 
Silence. 
Tony to Adam: “Remember when mom brought us to the zoo.” 
Adam to Tony: “No, not really. It’s been awhile.” 
Tony to Adam: “She said that if you washed the black and white off of the pandas, they would just be normal bears again.” 
Carl to Tony and Adam: “I spent so long trying to figure out how much soap you would need to do pull that off.” 
Tony to Carl: “I figured it out a while ago. You wouldn’t use soap, idiot.” 
Adam to Tony: “Don’t call Carl an idiot.” 
Tony to Adam: “But he is one.” 
Adam to Tony: “So, you are too.” 
Tony to Adam: “I know, I get it. Jesus.” 
Adam to Tony: “You know what you have to do to keep her from leaving you again. You just can’t do it.” 
Tony to Adam: “I don’t know…” 
Adam to Tony: “You do know, but you keep pushing it away because you failed to do it thousands of times.” 
Tony to Adam: “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” 
Adam to Tony: “Stop kidding yourself. You know it deep inside.” 
Tony and Adam: “There isn’t anything deep inside.” 
Adam to Tony: “Stop with the fucking teenage angst for one second and just admit to yourself already.” 
Tony and Adam: “What the fuck do you want me to admit?!” 
Adam to Tony: “You know what. Stop FUCKING denying it Tony!” 
Tony to Adam: “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT ADAM!” 
Adam to Tony: “JUST FUCKING SAY IT TONY!” 
Tony to Adam: I DON’T WANT TO! 
Adam to Tony: SAY IT! 
Tony to Adam: NO! 
Adam to Tony: FINE! I’LL SAY IT THEN! YOU FAILED TONY! YOU FUCKING FAILED. YOU FAILED TO BECOME BETTER FOR HER!” 
Tony to Adam: “AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T FUCKING BECOME BETTER FOR YOURSELF!” 
Adam is silent. 
Adam starts to cry. 
Carl walks over to Adam and hands him his glass of orange juice. 
Adam smiles a bit, sips some of the juice, and looks at Carl. 
Adam to Carl: “I still like the red straw more.” 
Carl to Adam: “Guess that’s something that never changes huh.” 
Adam smirks. 
Adam to Tony: “Look…one day, you will be where I’m at in our life. And you’re right. I haven’t become better. Because one day you’re going to wake up and realize, years after you’ve lost her, that she was never the main problem. Sure, she was a lot of problems. But she was never the biggest one.” 
Tony to Adam: “…What is then?” 
Adam looks at Tony, then at Carl, then back at Tony. 
Adam to Tony: “The three of us.”

Superheroes

The night is often young, but in this town, the night is silent. The only lights are the two headlights of the bus the two gentleman are sitting in, as well a lamppost every few blocks quickly flashing on their faces. They’re the only two people on the bus besides the tired bus driver; a man who seems more fascinated with what’s in his teeth than the road he’s driving on. 
Wally: So you’re saying that, out of all the superpowers you could possibly have, you would want the power to go to sleep whenever? 
Gallo: Yeah, is that weird? 
Wally: Of course it’s weird, Gallo. You could give yourself the ability to fly at max speeds, shoot laser beams out of your eyes, hell, even summon demons from the underworld. But what you pick is nap time control? 
Gallo: Yep. Seems like the ideal power to me. 
They pass the Wendy’s on 33rd street, which had been run down for years with paint chippings only being swept up by the wind, no custodian to be found. 
Wally: And why’s that? 
Gallo: I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. The dog keeps me up all night. Which is funny because baby Diana doesn’t make a sound. 
They now pass the Duane Reade on 38th street. It’s opened 24 hours but the number of hours it’s opened might as well be its weekly customer count as well. 
Wally: I’m sure Laura would say otherwise. Saw her Facebook status a few days ago saying that her daughter keeps her up. Maybe she’s putting her back to sleep before you can even hear it. 
Gallo: She likes to write things like that for the attention. 
The bus takes a turn on 39rd street to get onto 3rd avenue. At least this avenue has some colorful graffiti to light up the place. 
Wally: What an attractive quality. 
Gallo: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you don’t like her. 
Wally: If there’s any reason for you to want the power to sleep whenever, it’s so you don’t need to listen to her talk. 
Gallo: Of course you would say that. Heard she used to give you wedgies until you were eight. 
Wally: Yeah, she wasn’t the best older sister. 
Gallo’s shiny dress shoes take a step into grey muddy water as he makes his exit off the bus onto the dim streets of this grim town. Wally follows him off, hands in the pockets of his perfectly ironed dress pants while he stretches back his long neck to breath some air into his tight collar with tie. Both of their suits are blue, with Gallo’s arguably being the more maroon of the two. They both gesture a thank you to the bus driver while the bus driver pays no attention to them and puts full attention into picking out the last seaweed chunk out of his molar. No sight of a lunchbox anywhere. 
Wally: But seriously, even if you’re having insomnia and shit, how can you tell me you’d pick sleep over being able to teleport. Do you realize how much you can do with that? 
Gallo: Seems dangerous. What if you teleport and get stuck inside a wall? Wouldn’t that just kill you? 
Wally: You obviously would learn to be good at avoiding that situation. 
Wally: You ever watch X-Men? Nightcrawler seems to do fine. 
Gallo: That motherfucker also looks ugly as shit. Definitely not worth it. 
Wally: Point taken. 
Gallo and Wally stand underneath the stop sign as they wait for the one across the street to turn to the green walking man. The numbers next to the red palm count down as two cars zoom by as fast as the speed limit will allow them to. One of them is a run-down Mercedes. The other one didn’t seem to have a brand. Both of them are headed out of town. 
Wally: But what about super strength? Everyone wants that. 
Gallo: All the superheroes with super strength are way too jacked-looking. To the point that it looks uncomfortable. I’m fine with being my scrawny self. Takes up less space on the bed so I can sleep better. 
Wally: You and your sleep. Fine. How about if you were Superman? All his powers are yours. 
The stop sign turns green and the two begin to stride their way across, one stepping on all of the white lines, the other intentionally dodging them. The second they hit the sidewalk, they take a left and walk toward Dickinson Park, named after the town’s old major Gregory Dickinson, who, funnily enough, died parking his car three months ago. 
Gallo: That guy is an idiot. His powers get to his head way too much, and is oblivious to all hell. How the hell do you lose to Batman? He literally has no powers. 
Wally: I mean, he’s smart enough to protect all of metropolis consistently. 
Gallo: Barely. The place is always getting destroyed and wrecked, and because of him, they constantly have villains attacking. I would never want to have that on my conscience.
They get to Dickinson Park, entering by walking through the horribly painted black arc, where the angel carvings look more like obese babies due to erosion. Walking straight through the park, the birds all flock away to avoid being stepped on by Wally’s pointed black dress shoes. The squirrels run toward them, stop at a distant, and run back into their lopsided asymmetrical willow tree homes. 
Wally: Okay, fine. How about the Flash? Literally so fast you can time travel and go to parallel universes. That’s definitely the one I would go with. Read and finish books in a blink of an eye, travel the world in an instant, seems awesome to all hell. 
Gallo: Well your name is Wally, I guess. 
Wally: Haha, very funny. 
As they exit the poor excuse for a park, they can see a well-maintained lawn in the distance. They look both ways before crossing the sidewalk, and make their way onto the grassy field. 
Gallo: I know, I’m hilarious. But nah, I’m scared of what I would become with THAT much power. 
The two well-dressed men find their way into the building of the well-maintained lawn. They stumble their way into the living room of the location. They see a family sitting in on the sofa, almost as if they are about to do a photoshoot for their Christmas cards. The family is in shock to see strangers in their living quarters. The father gets up and yells, “Who are you guys and what are you guys doing in our house?!” 
The father instantly shuts up and the family begins practically picture still as two guns are pointed at them. The daughter is the first to have a drop of sweat roll down her face, most likely because she has the longest hair out of the whole family. The mom’s eyes begin to tear up, solely out of pure fear that she has never felt before in her life. The father’s eyes read of a man who is unsure if he can protect his family. 
Wally: What do you mean you’d be scared? 
Gallo: Well just look at Barry. He constantly screws things up because of his super speed. As Uncle Ben has said time and time again, with great power comes great responsibility. Barry never is responsible with that power. Fucks up the timeline every second he gets. 
Wally: Well then don’t be as naïve as Barry. 
In frantic panic, the husband asks, “Why didn’t the alarm sound?” 
Gallo throws the alarm wires onto the ground, all dismantled into parts. Seeing this, the wife begins to uncontrollably panic as well and dashes her way towards the telephone. But right when she manages to grab the Motorola, Wally fires his pistol and nails a bullet right through the back of her palm as well as the 4-key. Reaching new levels of fear, the child yells out in tears, “Mom!” The mother looks up at her daughter, as if she wants to say that it will be okay, but the words can’t reach her lips due to excruciating pain and also because she doesn’t want to lie to her daughter. The daughter keeps crying and shouting out sounds of distress. 
Wally turns the gun and aims the hole to make a direct line to the daughter’s forehead. 
The wife screams out, “No please stop!”, only to cause herself to scream out in pain more as the movement from a futile attempt to prevent her daughter from being shot makes her palm bleed out even faster. 
Gallo: That’s the issue. I don’t think anyone could handle that kind of responsibility. With that level of power, you could be a god in literally a millisecond. Time doesn’t apply to you. You could take a million years to create a plan to take over the world, but to everyone else it’s simply only a second. Change the past to make it whatever you want it to be, and every time you mess up you can just do it again. That kind of power, how can you not expect it to get to your head. 
Wally: I guess that makes sense. Okay, how about being a friendly neighborhood Spiderman? 
Gallo: His name is Spiderman. Do you really think that’s cool? 
Wally: Of course he’s cool. He gets to swing around the city, react to everything perfectly. What’s not to love? 
Gallo: Well I hate spiders. Would hate myself if I was called SPIDER-man. 
Wally: You are one hard man to break. 
Gallo opens his leather bag and pulls out some rope. He points the gun at all three of the family members and orders them to organize themselves in a fashion in which the rope can be used to tie up their hands efficiently. As Gallo ties each of their hands up, Wally continues to point his piece at each one of them in 5 second increments, almost like clockwork. 
Gallo: I’m telling you, I don’t need any crazy superpowers. I just need a power that can fix the problems I have in life. And honestly, right now, my main problem is going to bed. 
The husband looks up at the two in suits, and in a sudden ball of fury, he screams out “You will pay for this!”. Perhaps pointless empty threats are the only thing a father has left to attempt to protect his family when you take away all of his confidence and dignity. The two standing men in the room look at the father with soulless stares, then look back at each other and continue their conversation. 
Wally: Hmm. Alright, you’ve convinced me. I guess, for you, being sleepman is your best option. 
Gallo: Okay, but definitely wouldn’t go with sleepman. 
Wally: Are you kidding me? There is no way in hell people wouldn’t call you sleepman. 
Gallo: Well no one would know about me. It’s not like I’m going around the world saving people’s lives by taking a snooze on the spot. 
The husband now feeling even more furious being ignored, he yells, “WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT FROM US?” Gallo and Wally pause their conversation to turn their heads and look at the desperate excuse of a man. They then once again turn back to continue on discussing. 
Wally: Urgh, I guess you’re right. So what would you call yourself? 
Gallo: Gallo. Duh. 
Wally: Haha, I get it, you’re hilarious. You sure you aren’t comedian-man? 
Gallo: Pretty sure that’s already a superpower many people have. 
Wally: Haha, very true. Some better heroes than others. I’d take Louie CK over the Jeff Dunham asshole anyday. 
Gallo: Without a doubt. 
Gallo places a radio in front of the emotional family. The radio begins to buzz while the family stares down in fear of what is going to happen next. The wife begins to cry even louder out of pain and immense fear. The husband begins to repeat blanket statements such as ‘it’ll be okay’ and ‘everything is going to be fine’ to his family, as if he is trying to convince himself. The kid is in permanent shock, as if he has seen a ghost, or worse. 
Wally: So besides your own name, what would you call yourself? 
Gallo: Okay, hmm. How about Drowzie? 
Gallo and Wally begin to search around the living room. Long mural paintings cover the top portion of their wooden framed cabinets next to their marble drawers. The arm rests on their multiple sofas all match each other, but the pillows all show a different unique style through their stitching and color coordination. The carvings on the stonework around the rim of the walls show influence from both Greek mythology and Italian architecture. 
Wally: Like the Pokémon? 
Gallo: Is that a Pokémon? 
Gallo and Wally move on to searching the kitchen. Square tiles might be overdone, but the use of various tile sizes help make the tiling on the floor interesting enough to not feel bland. Both washing machines are made by the same company, but they both seem to have different options when it comes to special buttons. The dining room table is big enough to fit a dozen more family members than the amount in the living room, however it doesn’t seem practical because it feels like it would be hard to pass food around. Though the aprons hanging by the fine china cabinet hints that they might have a cook in the house so one can imagine that each person would get their own meal. 
Wally: Yes, of course it’s a Pokémon. It’s part of the original group, too. How the hell don’t you know that? 
Gallo: Never was big on Pokémon. Never really understood the concept. Like why would you trap your friends in balls? 
Gallo and Wally move on to the bedroom. Well, one of them. Every blanket on the king-sized bed seems to be silk, although it’s hard to tell since there could be more layers of blankets underneath the four puffy ones on top. The flat screen television across the bed is big enough to be confused for a window, not only because of size as well, for the television is also imbedded into the wall. The television is not the only thing in the wall since the drawers double as a wall design for the wall adjacent to the bed. 
Wally: You are one tough person to talk to, you know that? 
Gallo: Your sister says that a lot. 
After searching through every room in the house, Gallo and Wally make their way back into the living room where the husband has a smirk on his face. Right as Wally and Gallo make eye-contact with the family, a cop siren is heard outside of the house near the lawn. 
Suddenly with all of his confidence back, the husband says, “You guys are screwed now! I set off our voice-activated emergency call system when you were gone! You’re gonna pay for what you’ve done here!” Gallo and Wally turn to the man who looks like he’s won it all. A ring is heard in the front entrance of the house and a cop’s voice can be faintly heard from the living room asking if anyone is home. Right as the front door begins to make a creaking opening sound, the sound of an explosion overrides it. The sound of the cop’s voice is heard again, but this time around, in agonizing pain. The sound of the cop’s cries for help begin to dwindle as you hear the sounds of lingering fire crackle over it. Gallo and Wally watch the husband’s face go from confident to blank once more, as he realizes what has happened. 
Gallo and Wally give the husband one last stare, and begin to dump everything they gathered from all the rooms they inspected onto the floor right in front of the three tied-up civilians. The items they have collected all have one thing in common: extremely flammable. They empty out all of the liquor bottles and pour them all over the living room and on top of the family members. Right when the family members thought they could not cry and scream anymore, the last of their tears and words come prying out of their faces, knowing full well what happens next. 
Gallo and Wally both take out their respective zippo lighters. One is of the Joker and another is of Deadpool. The radio suddenly has a voice speak out of it. It says, “Flame on.” The Joker lighter makes a more metal sound when it gets the flame going, but the Deadpool one’s flame goes higher. 
Gallo and Wally walk out of the house through the back, avoiding the mess of a suburban barbeque in the front. They cross the street and watch the house slowly but surely ignite and burn down to the ground. 
Wally: So why Drowzie? If not because of Pokémon. 
Gallo: I don’t know. Has a solid ring to it. And if any person would be able to fall asleep, they’re probably feeling pretty drowsy. 
Wally: Fair enough. 
Gallo: Alright, let’s head out. I got to get home to see Laura and Diana. 
Wally: And your dog. 
Gallo: Yeah, and that damn dog. 
Wally: You know you could try and use sleeping meds. I think I saw some in the bathroom if you want to go back in and check. 
Gallo: I guess I’ll give sleep meds a try. But too lazy to go back in, I’ll just grab some from the Duane Reade few blocks down. 
Wally: Alright, let’s go then.