Tag Archives: dating

The Melancholy Robot on the Metro

  The robot sat on the metro, speeding quickly to its destination. The train slowed, stopped, hissed. A couple got on, holding hands, and sat across from it.
The robot noticed how close they sat to each other compared to other passengers. They started to kiss as it watched. It tried to comprehend why humans kiss. The action served no useful function that it could see, yet the robot found itself yearning for its own partner to kiss.
It rotated its head to a window and looked at the reflection.
It had no lips.

Artwork by the wonderful and talented Kira Bang-Olsson. Check out her website or click on the artwork for her blog. To read the rest of The Melancholy Robot stories, click here.

As You Wish

Xander shifted his pillow a little so his head was more comfortable as he read when Zoey gasped at something on her laptop. He looked over at her.

“What’s up?”

“Peter Falk died. I loved him in Princess Bride.”

“Peter Falk died? Inconceivable.”

“Nice,” she said. “Seriously though, he was amazing in that movie.”

“He was also Columbo. And he was in Vibes with Jeff Goldblum and Cindi Lauper. But yeah, I’ll always remember him as the grandfather. I love that movie.”

“It’s a classic.”

“Hello, my name is Indigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

“Stop saying that!”

Xander dropped his book and stabbed her in the shoulder with an invisible sword.

“Promise me money! Promise me wealth!” he yelled as he jumped up and down on the bed pretending to stab her as she pretended to die.

He dropped down and flopped back onto his side of the bed.

“Remember when we had those ROUSs in the old apartment?” she asked.

“Rodents of unusual size? I don’t think they exist.” He paused to catch his breath a little. “And of course I remember those rats. Not as big as in the movie, but scary nonetheless.”

She read a bit of the bio and sighed.

He knew he had to cheer her up. “Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?”

She smiled. “If there are we’ll all be dead!”

“Stop that rhyming now, I mean it!”

“Anybody want a peanut?”

“I love that part when Peter Falk says something about television being called books in his day. Classic. And when he skips the final kiss? Priceless.”

“I just loved his role. I didn’t grow up with a grandfather…but when I was a kid I liked to pretend mine was just like him.”

He looked over at her and smiled. “Love you, Zo.” Then he started tickling her until she couldn’t breathe.

Once she could speak again she playfully frowned at him. “Okay, okay, you’re bothering me. Go to bed. I’ll likely kill you in the morning.”

He kissed her goodnight. “As you wish.”

Nooooo!

“Nooooo!” he screamed, at the top of his lungs, towards the heavens.

“Stop being so dramatic,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

Optimism

If you enjoyed this, it’s available, along with many other similar works, on my Etsy. Wrags Ink. is also coming out with a paperback book collecting my work, so stay tuned for more information on that!

The Ghost Train

The dilapidated railroad station, aged after years of disuse, loomed above them like a ghost as they trudged up the hill.

“I always come up here when I want to be alone. You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

She smiled, a little out of breath from the steep path.

The rusted rails disappeared into surrounding woods as she looked left, then right.

“The tracks are unused now, right?”

“Are you nervous?” he said with a smile. “They’re retired. Look at them.” He kicked a bit of rusted metal off the top. “I doubt they’d be safe run a train over them.”

She took his hand. “Thanks for bringing me here. I know this place means a lot to you. Do you ever go inside?”

“There’s a broken window around back, but it’s pretty dirty in there.”

A sound, far off in the distance, made her look to the right. “What was that?”

“I don’t know, but I hear it all the time.”

“It sounded like-“

“Go on…”

“No, never mind.”

He bent down and put his hand on the track. “Feel it.”

She did as she was told and felt the slight vibration. “What is that?”

“You were going to say it sounded like a train was coming, right?”

She nodded, a little unwillingly.

“I hear it all the time. And after I hear it, I can always feel the tracks vibrating the tiniest bit.”

She quickly removed her hand from the rusted metal. She wiped the brown dust off her hands onto her jeans as he stood back up. She stood as well and watched the tracks coming from the woods to the right, waiting.

“It won’t come,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What won’t?”

“The train.”

She took his hand, and squeezed it tight from fear when they heard the sound again, this time closer. It sounded like the echoes of the horn of a train, but not the actual sound itself. She continued to watch, waiting.

Photograph taken by Nessa Skotnitsky of Ethereal Fine Art and Photography.

My Second Book, Coming Soon!

 

Coming soon! Wrags Ink., a new publisher in the Philadelphia area, is putting out a collection of my typography on vintage photographs! You’ve seen some of them before here and possibly on my Etsy, but this collection has about fifty images and more than half of them have never been seen before! So get ready, readers! My work is also being featured in a few magazines coming out this summer, and I’ll be sure to let you know about that as it comes up!

Also, once the book is out the prices will probably be going up a bit on my Etsy, so if you want any, better get them soon!

Thanks for reading!


Fulfilled Dreams

“When you find all of your dreams fulfilled, it’s time to think up more dreams.”

She looked up at him. “Huh? What’s that from?”

“Me, I guess,” he said with a large, goofy smile. “My dreams are all fulfilled.”

“Really. How so?”

“I have this house I made into a home. My first book is published. And then there’s you. I love going to work most of the time. I am not starving to death, I have my health, you know. My dreams are fulfilled.”

“And?”

“And it’s time for new dreams. Time to start reaching higher.”

“Like…another book?”

“And maybe another girlfriend.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

She threw the copy of ReadyMade she was reading at him but he ducked. “See? Everything’s coming up me right now. You couldn’t even hit me with -”

Another magazine hit him square in the face.

“Nice.”

She smiled. “Gotcha! Don’t be so cocky!”

“Hey, can I help it if I’m happy?”

“I’m glad I’m on that list,” she said, getting up and walking over to the couch.

“That doesn’t mean I want to cuddle.”

“Tough. I came over here to cuddle, and cuddle I will.”

“Fine,” he said in his pretend-frustrated voice. He put his arm around her and pulled her in.

“What’s this you’re working on?” she asked, picking up the notebook he had been writing in.

“Ideas. For my next book.”

“Nice.”

“Like I said, new dreams. Not like my first book is doing well. Even the publisher said it wasn’t selling much. Maybe I can use this to get an agent. Or maybe this is the start of something bigger. It just takes the right person to read it, someone like Chuck Klosterman to tweet it, and next thing I know, it starts selling like crazy.”

“Or?”

“Or nothing. I got a book published. It was one of my dreams. I’m happy. It feels good.”

She dropped the notebook onto the floor and it landed on her crumpled magazine she’d used as a weapon just moments ago.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she said after resting her chin on his shoulder.

He smiled. “See? I’m getting everything I want.”

She got up and threw the magazine at his face again.

Vantage Point

Terese stood looking up at the perfect blue sky and fluffy clouds before she gathered the nerve to go to the edge and look down on everyone. The building wasn’t that high, and while she could appreciate an amazing view of the city, her fear of heights tended to take over. But she wanted to, so she forced herself, inch by inch, her high heels scraping the cement with each half-step, toward the wall that overlooked the courtyard below.

Ole had been difficult all day; as a matter of fact, he hadn’t been fun to travel with at all. His constant complaints were annoying, his mood swings obnoxious, and his hatred of people in general was exhausting. She practically had to drag him onto the metro and to the different sights. If she left it up to him they would stay in the hotel most of this trip, and he wouldn’t even be trying to have sex with her. He was more likely to watch television.

Terese shook her hands a bit, then her head, her black hair flinging until she stopped and it was frazzled, a strand or two sticking to her lipstick. She wanted to forget the frustration of her relationship and think about the view, attempt to check out Oslo with a positive mind instead of one focused on her problems. She boldly stepped to the edge and looked below to see people milling around. She sighed and enjoyed a pleasant moment, her first one on the trip thus far. She felt the stress wash away as she listened to the water lapping against the man-made walls, noticed two lovers sitting by the water having a moment, and was instantly refreshed.

Until she noticed Ole.

There he was, angrily brushing his jacket off as if the metro got it dirty. Her moment of happiness fell apart and her shoulders began to ache the tiniest bit. He then started brushing off a cement wall, preparing it for his royal ass. He’s the royal ass she thought to herself, then giggled a little. She tried to enjoy the view of the waterfront but her eyes kept resting back on Ole, who checked his watch a dozen times in the few moments she was up there.

She walked across to another view, one where she would not see her annoying lover. The sun was beginning to set and cast a shadow across the area, shadowing her in darkness for a brief moment. If Ole looked up he would have noticed her silhouette from below, but he just sat on the wall wondering how long she would be up there.

She looked around at the walkway where she stood and realized she was alone. She returned to a vantage point near the edge, one where she could see Ole again. Her hand slipped out of her pocket and shaped itself into a gun. She pointed it in his general direction, pretended to look through the sights, aimed and fired.

Photographs by the talented Kristin Brænne, whose work can be seen HERE.

In the Middle of Nowhere

The car was broken down, and while Jennie and I were sulking, Doris and Roy were sitting on a log chuckling to themselves, having a little picnic with the brown bag of goodies Doris had bought at the five and dime. She ate half the apple and then handed it over to Roy.

“I have another one if you want,” she said to me, and I just shook my head. I couldn’t understand how they were so calm. Roy’s car was busted and we hadn’t seen a car in the whole two hours since it broke down.

“Aren’t you guys worried we’re stuck here?” Jennie asked her.

“Nope,” Doris said with confidence. “Someone will come along soon, I’m sure.”

“That’s my girl!” Roy responded. “Always the optimist! Isn’t it beautiful here? I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the city.”

I can’t believe I just heard Roy actually say that. In the fifteen years I’d known him he’d never been this relaxed. Or this happy.

“What will we do come nightfall?”

Doris smiled as she rooted through the bag to the bottom and pulled out a few pieces of penny candy and offered them around. Jennie took one and listening to her unwrap it was wearing on my nerves. “We could sleep in the car! Roy, you have blankets in the trunk, right? The ones we keep for emergency picnics?” He nodded as he pulled a toy pipe out of his pocket and started pouring bubbles into it. “Wait, you bought it?” she asked him.

“Yup.” At that he put it to his mouth and bubbles started to explode out of the plastic piece of junk.

“But it won’t come to that,” Doris added. “Someone will come.”

I couldn’t take this much longer. What would we do, huddle up in the car under a tiny blanket, shared by each couple? Doris and Roy were bananas if they thought I would get a good night of sleep in that jalopy that couldn’t even handle a simple drive to Cape May. Doris and Roy started whispering and giggling to each other in that loving way. The way they always do it.

Jennie came over and sat next to me. It wasn’t long before she started whispering to me, copying off of them.

“Aren’t they so cute?”

“Sure, sure. They’re cute, and they don’t seem to mind we might die out here.”

“Oh come on. Why don’t we whisper like that anymore?”

“Anymore?”

“Yes! We were just like them when we met.”

I thought back and had to agree, we probably were. But not as annoying. Just to shut her up and reached up and held the back of her hair a bit, pulling her in for a kiss. She smiled. I rose.

“Should I start foraging? Maybe there’s an apple tree or something nearby.”

Doris looked in my direction. “Everything will be fine, Raymond. You’ll see.”

At that I heard the backfire of a truck in the distance, and a tow truck came into view around the bend. Doris stood up and brushed some dirt and leaves off the back of her skirt and smiled at me.

18 Miles of Books

He approached her.

“Look, we have the same book.”

She looked at the book in his hand and nodded. “Is this the part where we realize we have all these things in common and then fall in love, like we’re in some romantic comedy?”

His smile flickered but he regained his composure.

“I know you saw me with it and picked it up.”

She frowned. “I did not.”

“Mhmm. Next you’re going to tell me Eggers is your favorite author and you’ve read all his books and love him. And it will be a lie.”

“I HAVE read all of his books. This is a gift for a friend.”

“Mine too.”

She wrinkled her nose at him and then cracked a smile. “Of all the bookstores in all the world, you had to walk into mine. And bug me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, this is your bookstore? You must be wealthy. I’ve heard there are over sixteen miles of books here.”

“Eighteen. But who’s counting?”

He laughed and she cracked a smile.

“You’re kind of a wise ass, aren’t you?”

She fidgeted with her book and scraped the ground with the tip of her left Puma. “Maybe a little.”

“I like that.”

She reached into her bag to look for something.

“Oh I didn’t ask for your number yet.”

“That’s fine,” she said as she pulled out a copy of an old Jacques Cousteau book. “I wasn’t offering. I am planning on going to the park to read my book.”

His eyebrows raised again and his face gained a look of surprise. “You won’t believe this but –“ he reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a different but just as worn Cousteau book.

Now she looked surprised but tried to hide it by picking up a random vintage book from a nearby shelf.

“Ever read this one?”

“Nope. Is it good?”

“Quite.”

“Maybe you could read it to me in bed tonight.”

An older woman who was clearly eavesdropping from across the aisle dropped her book and shuffled away, mumbling to herself.

“Why sir, how forward of you!” she said with a giggle.

His smile started to grow as well. “Well…I was just…er…” he started cracking up and her face broke out into laughter as well. She fell to the floor, shaking with giggles as he collected himself and offered her a hand.

“Had enough of this little game?” she asked him as she accepted his hand and stood.

“Sure. You laughed first though,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

“No way! It was totally you!”

She looked into his eyes and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Let’s go home.”