One Time Bet
“Fuck!” Marcus screamed at the TV.
“What’s wrong?” His girlfriend, Bethany, asked.
“The one time I make a bet, my team loses?”
“It’s a sign.”
“Of what?”
“That your money is better spent elsewhere.”
“Right…”
He handed her his wallet and smiled, never realizing he had been staring at a blank screen the whole time.
One of my neighbors is a major sports fan, the kind of person that screams, kicks, and breaks stuff if things don’t go his way in a match. I’ve heard him lots of times since I moved to this place and, tonight, he did it again. No doubt inspired by that, I ended up writing this one just now, and yes, late update, because I was busy with other things.
Anyway, sports are fun, but playing with perception is even more.
No Tricks
Zack finished drinking the latte and confronted his brother Charles.
“Why so glum?”
“I woke up in the park naked yesterday.”
“Sleepwalking?”
“Hypnotic suggestions.”
“Did you upset Angela?”
“No. She just likes to show who’s boss.”
“Thank God she doesn’t play tricks on me.”
“Right…” Charles laughed at the lipstick stains on his brother’s cup.
A friend of mine was in town today and we had lunch. It was a quick thing as I only have one hour anyway but we still talked a bit. It was nice. I don’t drink coffee, unlike her. I also don’t wear lipstick, unlike her. There was a small pinkish imprint on the cup when she laid it down and I guess seeing that put the gears in motion inside my head. I tried associating that image with several ideas I had. This was one that resonated the most.
How is this Art?
Sam was confused.
“How is this art? It’s just a bunch of water ripples projected on a screen!”
“The ripples represent change. Each one is different depending on the person watching them.” Marissa, the artist, replied.
“That’s bullshit, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a ruse to hypnotize potential patrons.”
“Ah…”
He bought a dozen pieces that night.
An improvised piece written just now. I’m guilty of enjoying the water ripple imagery a bit too much and thought it would be fun to do something with it. Art is subjective, of course. Sometimes, I see pieces I don’t truly get, but I admire the creativity behind them, nonetheless. While in the piece above, the idea of art is just a ruse for some hypnotic shenanigans, don’t be mistaken. I love art. I’m an artist myself so how could I not? I also love women for they’re works of art, too. How about you?
One Hundred and One
Karl knocked on Alan’s door at 1 am.
“Can I crash here tonight, please? Helen and I had a huge fight.”
“About what?”
“I said I can’t be hypnotized. She said she did it one hundred times already.”
“One hundred and one.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Come in.”
“Thanks.”
Karl followed his girlfriend to the bedroom.
Another shift in perception piece? Yeah, it’s a recurring theme because it’s a favorite of mine when it comes to these and other writings in general. The thing is when I started writing it, I had no idea what it would become, and then it just clicked. I could have written one hundred and fourteen to match the day of the year but I like the sound of 101 better.