Tag Archives: fiction

Puzzle Pieces

I should have known that I would be hearing from people I went to high school with after Mike Mitchell died.

“Is this Teddy?”

“I go by Theo now.”

“I’m sorry, Theo. I don’t know if you remember me but this is Melanie Dobosh. We went to-”

“Franklin High together.”

“Yes, exactly.”

I never imagined that Melanie Dobosh would call me. I never imagined that she would call me ever. And now I’m on the phone with her. I thought I stopped caring about her but as soon as she said her name, I got tingles in the back of my neck and butterflies in my stomach.

“How … how are you?”

“I’m sure you heard Mike died?”

“I did. I’m sorry. Were you still together?”

“No. We broke up shortly after we graduated.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. And if we stayed together I would be a widow now.”

“Well, congrats on that.” Congrats on that? Teddy, you’re a fucking moron!

“Could you grab coffee or something this afternoon?”

“Yes! I mean, that would be great. I take my lunch at 1.”

“Great! Want to meet at Magic Beans?”

“I’ll see you there.”

“Great!”

“Great!”

“OK, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Great.”

That didn’t go too bad. You said great too many times like a fucking retard but she asked you to coffee. Why does she want to have coffee with me? It has to have something to do with Mike. But what?


I left for lunch early. I didn’t want Melanie to be waiting on me. It’s so weird, I’ve waited my whole life to have a date with her and I can’t bear to make her wait a few minutes. Maybe because I’m no prize. And that’s not what this is about. She wants something.

Shit! She’s here already. And she looks great. She probably smells great too. I probably smell like death.

“Theo!” She didn’t call me Teddy. She looks like she wants to hug me. She is indeed hugging me. And she does smell good. “It’s so great to see you. You look great. How are you?”

“Great!” Shit. Stop saying great you fucking moron. “How are you?”

“I’d be lying if I said great. I just moved back in with my parents. And I need to find a job. Something with health insurance. But enough about me. How are you, besides being great?”

That’s what she wants, she heard we’re hiring. “We actually have a position opening, Mrs. Morris is retiring. And we do offer health insurance.”

“Oh my God! Really? Wow, I didn’t realize she was still alive. What is she like 90 now?”

“93.”

“Think she’s old enough to retire?” She laughs with me at her own joke.

“She did once already but she got bored and came back. They fired the girl they hired to replace her so she could have her job back.”

“So there is no job security?”

“Oh no, she’s losing her shit now so they won’t be hiring her back.”

“Did you wanna get a drink?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“They have other stuff.”

“I’m fine.”

‘You still haven’t told me anything about you?”

“There’s nothing really to say. Eat, work, sleep, repeat.”

“Are you married?’

“Nope.”

“Got a girlfriend?”

“Nope. What about you?”

“Never been married and never had a girlfriend.”

“I figured you married with kids by now.”

“Funny you mention kids. That’s why I asked you here. I need your help with that.”

“You want to have my kids?” That’s not what she said, Teddy!

“No. Shit! I hope I’m not freaking you out?”

“No. I just don’t understand.”

“I want to have Mike’s kid.”

“Mike is dead.”

“Which is why we need to hurry. I read that his sperm is only good for like 36 hours.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“That’s because you just asked me to help you steal a dead guy’s sperm.”

“Mike and I should have been together and I ruined it. He broke up with me because I had an abortion. His abortion. This is my window to make it up to him.”

“This is crazy. You’re crazy and I’m crazy for thinking I ever had a chance with you.” I have to get the fuck out of here. Where’s the fucking door?

“Theo!” She chases me outside to my car. To the hearse I drove here. “Wait! I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“What difference does it make?”

She pulls on the handle on the back of the car but it doesn’t open. “Unlock this.”

I hit the button on my keys and the doors unlocks. She swings the door open and throws me in. She pulls the door closed and climbs on top of me. She unzips my pants and pulls out my dick and it’s already hard.

“Wow” She strokes it. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“I want you to kiss me.” Her lips touch mine and I freeze. I’m making out with Melanie Dobosh! I’m making out with Melanie Dobosh in my hearse. Two fantasies combined.

Her tongue tries to force its way into my mouth but I’m still frozen. “I thought you wanted this? I thought you wanted me?” She pulls my hair and when I gasp she slips her tongue into my mouth.

My body slowly melts and soon my tongue is playing with hers.

“You’re a good kisser.”

“Don’t talk.” That was rude. “Sorry, I just think I won’t last as long if you talk.”

“OK. But do you want to be on top or me?”

“Me … No you… No me. I mean, you. Yeah, you.” She rips her panties off and crawls onto my lap and I’m already about to blow.

She guides me inside her. Her hips move nice and slow because she can probably sense I’m about to lose it. I need to think of things I hate. Cats … Cilantro … Guys playing guitars at social gatherings … Old widows … Erect dead penises … Mike’s erect dead penis.

She’s riding me harder. You’re doing good, Teddy.

“Why won’t you look at me?” She grabs my face and stares into my eyes. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

Wow, she can really fake an orgasm.

I feel hot moisture on the tip of my dick. What the fuck? “Did I …”

“No, that was me. Pull out for a second.” I obey and her juices rush out of her.

Holy shit! … Holy shit! I just made Melanie Dobosh cum. Holy shit!

“Put it back in and keep looking at me.” I do as I’m told and she bites her lip as I lift my ass off the floor and thrust harder inside her.

It doesn’t take long until I feel it. A second or two of euphoria. And I collapse on the floor.

I don’t know how long I’m lying there panting like a fat fuck who ran a block before I realize she is lying on my chest, moving up and down with each attempt to catch my breath.

My hand makes its way to a curl in her hair. She is real. This is really happening. It did happen. And I just came inside her. “I’m sorry I didn’t um …”

“Pull out?”

“Yeah.”

“I came on you, it was only fair.”

She fucked you so now you have to do it. It’s too quiet. Just tell her that you’ll do it. You can’t do it! Can you?

“Do you know how he died?” She’s looking right into my eyes. I can’t help but laugh.

She sniffs. Fuck, she’s crying.

“I guess you have to laugh since you deal with death on a daily basis?”

“That and he died from a heart attack during, you know, after taking a performance enhancing substance.”

“Shut up!” She cracks a smile and we both laugh uncontrollably.

When we stop laughing she looks into my eyes and says, “I hope you don’t think I slept with you to get what I want.”

“No-“

“I did it because I wanted to. ‘Cause you’re the first person I felt a connection with in a long time. I don’t even know why … To be completely honest, I didn’t even know who you were until you walked into the coffee shop. And I’m pretty sure my parents threw away my yearbook. But I recognized you as soon as you walked in. I think it’s your eyes I remember.”

“I did stare at you a lot during high school.” And if she didn’t think you were creepy, she does now.

“Maybe that’s it. But that doesn’t explain why I feel connected to you and not to my own parents.”

“We all grieve differently.” I want to touch her but don’t want it to feel forced.

“Do you feel connected to me?”

“As soon as you said who you were on the phone, all these teenage emotions erupted inside me.”

“And I haven’t been fucked like that since … Well, since ever.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?”

“You made me squirt. That usually only happens during my me time.”

I look at my watch to hopefully hide my bushing face. Fuck! “I really need to get back to work.”

“I’m sorry.” She reaches for the door handle.

I stuff myself back into my pants and pull my zipper up before we crawl out the door and back into the world.

“Can I ask you one more thing before you go?” God this girl loves making eye contact.

“I don’t see any harm in that.”

“Do you want kids?”

“I do … I mean, I did … I kinda gave up on the whole happily ever after.”

“I was prepared to do this alone. Like the whole thing but then that fucking phony Penny Palamino told me that you worked at the funeral home. And now that we’re reacquainted, I’m seriously rethinking the whole thing.”

“Really?”  I changed her mind.

“I thought that you could just help me get the sperm and maybe I’d toss you some cash but now I’m thinking it could be that and more. That I don’t have to do this alone. Like the whole thing … Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I guess I did.”

I don’t know what to say or how long this awkward silence is really lasting. Five hours ago I was boring me who was prepared to die alone and now my first boner inducing crush just asked me to become her sperm smuggling husband.

“I’m sorry, it’s too much again, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Is that a yes?”

Just say yes. Just fucking do it! “I don’t know.” You stupid son of a bitch! “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you just made me come harder than I’ve ever come before. I know that you have feelings for me. I know that you’ve made me feel like I’m not alone in this world.”

“What if I don’t get you the sperm?”

“I’ll be disappointed.”

“But?”

“But that doesn’t change that we have chemistry. That this morning I thought that my soul mate died … That I felt like a puzzle piece … One with a hole in it. And I thought that no one would ever fit into that hole. That maybe I was just a boring one piece puzzle. And then I remembered that baby that tried to fit into that hole but I wouldn’t let it. So I thought I could try and do it again. Me and a baby didn’t fit together then but maybe we will now …  And now I feel like maybe I have two holes in me and you fit in the other one. Maybe we’re a three piece puzzle … Or four or five.”

I hug her and I feel truly connected. It doesn’t feel forced like the hugs and touches I have to give people at work. We breathe in sync. We are crying together but only on the inside. No tears leak from our eyes. We found each other.

She eventually lets me go. “I know I’m asking a lot.” She stares into my eyes again. “Just think about it.” She leans in and kisses me and it feels so good that I decide that I’m going to do it. I’ll jerk him off with my own hand if it makes her happy.


As I drive towards the funeral home my moral compass fades back. Can I really do this? Should I do this? No one ever has to know. I’ll know.


I get back to work and Mike is there waiting for me, with his dead erection taunting me. There’s no chance that she’ll even get pregnant if I do it. She could already be pregnant with my kid. She could have already fucked up her chances. Literally. I should just give her my sperm. That’s it! She already has my sperm inside her.

I unzip my pants. She’ll never know … But I’ll know.

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Saving Us by Robb Webb

(I wrote this either the 2nd semester of my sophomore year or my 1st semester my junior year of college. After just seeing the movie Looper I was reminded of it and some similarities the stories share. And being the writer I am I want to re-read it and edit it but if I did that I don’t know if I would ever feel it was ready to be shared so there are probably a ton of spelling and grammar errors. And I believe I had just studied minimalism which is why there is little description and short sentences. OK, enough prefacing.)

“It happened on the train, on my way home from a job interview gone wrong. He was sitting across from me. Looking out the window at first, but then He saw me. We made eye contact and I could see right through those eyes and into his head. He saw into my head too, he didn’t want to admit it though. He figured He just imagined it. Thought of it as a good story idea and planned on going on his way, writing what He thought was fiction, but was really reality. I knew that I could change everything if I followed him, so I did.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“I wasn’t fully convinced until I saw where He lived; saw his parents, his car, his dog even. They were all mine, down to the smallest detail. I knew. I knew my life was going to change as soon as I interacted with him. As soon as I could get him to trust me, but how? How could I do that? I knew exactly how He would react. He would panic and report me to the cops, calling me a pervert and a crazy, ruining both our lives forever. I knew that I would have to come up with a plan. I knew how He thought, so I began to brainstorm.”

 

I’ve got it! I’ll wait for him at the train station every day, get on the same train, sit next to him and wait for the day when He talks to me. I know that He’s quiet, but once I fit into his everyday routine and we become acquaintances He will trust me. He’ll think I’m crazy when I tell him, but once given the proof He’ll have to believe.

So now I’m waiting. Sitting on the bench at the train station. There He is. So I’m up now rushing, squeezing into the train right before the doors close. He sits. I sit. Next to him. Not making eye contact. He remembers me. And we ride all the way to his stop. We get off. I walk in front. I walk down his street. Past his house. I never look back. I know He sees me and I know my plan is working.

 

“Weeks went bye. We both rode the train and we always sat next to each other, but never was a word spoken. Until that day.”

 

He drops a schoolbook, a book I remember reading. I pick it up off the train floor and give it back. He thanks me and I ask if it’s any good. I know it sucks.

“It sucks!” His words echo through my head.

“I thought the same when I had to read it. I never finished because I thought it was so bad. I had to write a paper on it too, but I just bullshited it and got an A.”

“Yeah I was thinking about doing that.”

“You should. You’ll probably end up writing a good paper anyway, and even if you don’t it’s not going to influence your life in some major way.” I hesitate. “This conversation will probably have a greater effect than that paper will.”

 

“And it’s true. That conversation made us everyday acquaintances. We would sit next to each other, talk about life, walk together until we reached his house, until the opportunity came up to get something to eat.”

 

We go to a small café. We order the same turkey club sandwich. Both with no tomatoes. I take a cigarette out and place it behind my ear. I start the conversation. “I need to tell you something. Something important.”

“Do I really want to know this?”

He thinks I’m hitting on him. “If I were you I would.”

“So what is it?”

“That’s just it. I am you.” Shit that was way to fast. He’s going to try and run.

“Listen I really should get going.”

“No don’t!” I scream and grab his wrist as He begins to rise from the table.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

We hate it when other people touch us. Just gives us this uncomfortable feeling. “Let me show you!”

He fights to free his wrist from my grasp, while I use my left hand to remove the cigarette I placed behind my ear. I place it in my mouth, light it, inhale the poison and exhale the smoke. I roll up the sleeve on my right arm and turn my wrist face up. I touch the cigarette to his pale young skin.

“What the fuck are you doing!” He screams and tries harder to free himself.

“Shhh. Just watch.”

As his white skin turns fire red, mine turns a scar colored pink. Smoke rises from both out wrists. I release his arm and put the cigarette out on the table.

He sits back in his chair, eyes wide, holding his wrist with his left hand. The waitress comes over gives us a strange look and places our sandwiches in front of us. We both take a sip of our cokes then a bite of our sandwiches. We don’t talk. Just stare into each other’s eyes as we eat. Dealing with the realization that we are each other.

 

“If only I could go back to that first day on the train. Go back and look the other way. Then I wouldn’t be here. In a mental institution. Writing with a dull royal blue Crayola crayon. Knowing that I’m not crazy. That He was too naïve. That I was too naïve.”

 

We see each other every day now. And I map out my life. What went wrong. What went right. What we always wanted to do. What I didn’t have time for, and regret not doing.

He skydives. He bungee jumps. And I remember, remember the sensations.

 

“I have to get out of here. I have to stop him.”

“Who?”

“Myself.”

“But you’re right here.”

“And He’s out there.”

 

“Out!” yells the umpire. And He wins the bet. The bet on the Yankees game that I told him to place. It’s only 100 bucks, but that’s a fortune to him.

 

“That was when He realized the power that we had. That we could get anything that we wanted. When He thought He was God.”

 

“Do you realize what we can do?” He asks me. “We can make millions. We can rule the world.”

 

“It didn’t sound like a bad idea, so I found my old journal. Found the date when I missed the 300 million dollar jackpot in the lottery by one number. I told him the numbers and He played them on the same date that I played them, when I was 18.”

 

“I won! Just like you said I would.” He says as we watch the drawing on the television.

“We won.” I remind him.

 

“But He was right. He did win. He had the ticket. He cashed it in. And He moved without telling me.”

 

I show up at that little café as planned. He isn’t here. He isn’t coming. I know him. I am him. Where would he go? Where did I want to go when I was 18?

 

“New York. And He was there. And of course I found him. Living in a mansion that overlooked Central Park. And I watched him. Watched the dumbass put a fingerprint identification lock on the door. Hello! We have the same fucking fingerprints!”

 

I wait until He is asleep before I enter. I think about killing him, but realize I would be killing myself. Instead I decide to wake him and threaten to kill him if He doesn’t give me my half. He calls my bluff and attacks me. He’s quicker then I am. Pins me down. Punches me in my face. Fumbles around with his left hand. Grabs a needle out of his nightstand. Punctures my scar with it.

 

“I was taken away by the cops. I told them the truth. They thought I was crazy. Put me in here.”

“And thirty years later you’re still here.”

“Because I never changed my story.”

 

I know if I stay here, He’ll forget about me. Until He realizes. Realizes that we are the same person. That He will end up like me. So I decide to wait. Wait here thirty years, until He’ll try to find Us.

 

“So will you release me?”

“I can’t”

“Why? Why can’t you?”

“Because what you’re saying is crazy.”

“But it’s true and you know it! If I were crazy I wouldn’t have realized that I could have been released from here years ago, by lying to everyone and saying that I didn’t believe in this story. So please let me go.”

“And what do I tell my boss?”

“That at the age of 78 all the medication and shock therapy finally worked. That I’m cured.”

The Doctor laughs and tells me that he enjoyed my story. That he still thinks I’m crazy. But he agrees to release me. Because I’m going to be dying soon and deserve one last chance at freedom.

I go to the train station, with a knife in my jacket pocket. I sleep there. Because I have nowhere else to go. Because I know He’ll show up. To make sure He finds Us.

He shows up two hours early. Two hours before Us is supposed to take the train. And He waits on the bench like I did. He sees me, but I don’t let him see my eyes. My eyes would give me away. He’d see right through me.

Us gets here right on schedule. Right before the train is about to close its doors. He gets up to follow Us. I follow him. Us gets on the train. I stab him. The doors close in front of his face. He turns and falls to the ground. I look into his empty eyes. At the blood on my hands. At the blood flowing from my chest. At Us making his way towards the seat. The seat where it all began. And I breathe. I breathe my last breath and I know that I’m alive.