Sudden fiction
Well, here's an experiment. I'm going to write a short story and post it without any editing or rewriting. It will just be what it is. The technical term for it is "sudden fiction," I believe. And, let me provide a little history for this story...
Almost two years ago, I started participating in discussions on an internet bulletin board for IBS sufferers. At some point, I found a part of the board called the Meeting Place. It was where participants came to discuss non-IBS related issues, current events, politics, family news, and the like. I participated primarily in the political discussions and came to know a woman on the Meeting Place, known as the MP, whose screen name was Luilu. Over the months Luilu and I tried to fight the good fight against the rabid, right-wing, neo-conservative, bible thumping ...
At some point, Luilu created her own discussion board, The Watercooler, and invited me to participate -- which I've done. Then, Luilu left the MP. When I started this blog, I decided it was time for me also to leave the MP -- it takes an enormous amount of time and energy to fight the good fight against those rabid right-wingers. I decided it was time to forsake that fight and focus my energies on my creative writing ... which explains this blog.
As I made the change, I let Luilu know about this blog and asked her to provide comments on my efforts here. She asked in return that I acknowledge "Luilu" in one of my stories. I offered to write a story with "Luilu" in it. So, here's my effort at fulfilling that promise...
Two more comments before I get to the story. First, it's sudden fiction, to the extent I'm able to write sudden fiction. I've never been able to write something without first having a good idea in my mind what I want to write. I don't think I could ever just sit down and start writing a story. So, is it really "sudden"? Not really, I've spent the last three days thinking about where I want this incredibly short story to go.
Second, before any of you want to psychoanalyze the point of this story and what it really means about me, don't. This is simply the idea I came up with for a story with a character named "Luilu."
...
MY FIRST TRUE LOVE
I fell in love for the first time in the second grade. Well, actually, it wasn't really the first time. As all little boys do, I fell in love for the first time when I was four. But that doesn't count because the girl I fell in love with then was my mom.
No, the first time I fell in love with somebody I wasn't related to, was in the second grade. Her name was Luilu. Luilu LaBeau. Looking back now, I wonder if her parents hated her. Luilu LaBeau? What were they thinking? But, in the second grade, you don't think about that. Names don't become objects for scorn until the third grade.
Besides, when I got to know Luilu, it really didn't matter what her name was. Never mind that my name is Larry Lawrence. How could I criticize somebody else's parents for their choice in names?
Unlike today where kids sit in groups of five or six and rotate groups throughout the year, back in those days, kids sat in rows in alphabetical order for the entire year. The first day of the year, I sat down in a desk behind Luilu ... LaBeau, Lawrence, Miller. I spent the year there, falling in love with Luilu.
Luilu had blonde curls that cascaded down her back. Those curls mesmerized me. I'd try to follow one of her tresses from the top of her head to the bottom, following the twists and turns. Inevitably, I'd get lost somewhere along the way.
She had rosy cheeks, long eyelashes, and a smile that could have melted all the ice in our freezer. Daily, at some point when the teacher was distracted, Luilu would turn, bat her eyes, and smile at me, mischievously. Just as quickly, she would turn back and look at the teacher.
Luilu and I spent the year becoming friends as only second grade kids can. I would chase her on the playground. She would ignore me when she was playing hopscotch with her friends. At lunch, we would sit at separate tables. Me with the boys. Luilu with the girls. Every once in awhile, we'd look at each other and then look away. Sometimes, I'd stick my tongue out at her.
One day, just before Thanksgiving, the ice broke in our relationship. I was sad about something. I don't know why. All I remember is that I ended up sitting in the middle of the grass field with my jacket draped over my head, hoping that nobody would notice and that I would disappear. As I sat there, Luilu approached me.
"Hey, Larry, what's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," I replied.
"What's wrong, Larry?" she asked again, sitting down a few feet from me.
"Nothing," I said. "I just want to be left alone."
"Hey," she said, "did you know you can eat grass?"
"Huh?" I said, taking my jacket off my head.
"Yeah, my brother showed me. You just pull these long pieces of grass out and you can chew on the ends."
"Won't it make you sick?" I asked.
"Nah. My brother's been doing it for years and he's never got sick from it," replied Luilu.
Luilu pulled a stalk of grass from the ground and handed it to me, while she pulled another stalk for herself. She put the end in her mouth and started chewing on it. I looked at the stalk of grass in my hand, looked back at Luilu, and decided to follow her lead. I put the grass in my mouth and sucked and chewed on the end. It wasn't bad. Suddenly, sitting there, talking to Luilu with a stalk of grass hanging out of my mouth, I felt for the first time, that I was cool. And, Luilu had showed me the way.
Luilu and I continued playing cat and mouse with each other. One day, we'd be fast friends. The next, we'd barely talk.
Towards the end of second grade, Luilu sealed her place in my seven-year-old heart forever. On one of those days when we were friends, we were sitting out in the field, chewing on grass.
"Hey," said Luilu, "I want to show you something."
"OK."
Luilu lifted the edge of her shirt and reached her hand up under her shirt. I couldn't tell what she was doing. And, then all of a sudden, she started flapping her arm and making the most delicious farting sounds with her arm. I was amazed. I was stunned. How did she do that?
"How'd you learn to do that?" I asked.
"My brother taught me."
"How do you do it?"
"You just put your hand in your armpit and start flapping."
So, I tried it. At first, it didn't work. But, eventually the little squishing noises I started with started sounding like wonderful, incredible armpit farts. And, I owed it all to Luilu LaBeau.
The last day of the school year rolled around. At the end of the day, Luilu and I were walking out of the class, when she leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. "See you next year, Larry," she said as she ran off.
The next year rolled around and Luilu wasn't there. She had moved. I never knew where and I never heard from her again.
***********************
As I finish writing this story, I realize what it's about. One of the things that is most distressing to me as I watch my kids go through life is the realization that so many of the kids who play such an integral part in their lives right now, won't be around a year from now, or two years from now, or ten years from now. I think of the people that I've known throughout my life that were vital to my success as a human being at various points, who have now disappeared from my life, and it makes me sad. I look at my kids and realize that they will experience the same thing. My oldest son's best friend from kindergarten through the second grade was a girl named Jamie. But between second and third grade, she moved. Not far, but far enough that they aren't in the same school anymore. While we still keep in touch the family, Reese and Jamie see each other only once or twice a year, instead of daily. I know that at some point the "once or twice a year" will eventually be reduced to not at all. It's disheartening that these people who play such a vital part at various stages of our lives disappear. There are so many people that I knew as a child and as a young adult that I wish now that I still knew. Where are they? What are they doing? I wish that I knew what's happening now with the girl who was the real "Luilu" for me in the second grade.
Almost two years ago, I started participating in discussions on an internet bulletin board for IBS sufferers. At some point, I found a part of the board called the Meeting Place. It was where participants came to discuss non-IBS related issues, current events, politics, family news, and the like. I participated primarily in the political discussions and came to know a woman on the Meeting Place, known as the MP, whose screen name was Luilu. Over the months Luilu and I tried to fight the good fight against the rabid, right-wing, neo-conservative, bible thumping ...
At some point, Luilu created her own discussion board, The Watercooler, and invited me to participate -- which I've done. Then, Luilu left the MP. When I started this blog, I decided it was time for me also to leave the MP -- it takes an enormous amount of time and energy to fight the good fight against those rabid right-wingers. I decided it was time to forsake that fight and focus my energies on my creative writing ... which explains this blog.
As I made the change, I let Luilu know about this blog and asked her to provide comments on my efforts here. She asked in return that I acknowledge "Luilu" in one of my stories. I offered to write a story with "Luilu" in it. So, here's my effort at fulfilling that promise...
Two more comments before I get to the story. First, it's sudden fiction, to the extent I'm able to write sudden fiction. I've never been able to write something without first having a good idea in my mind what I want to write. I don't think I could ever just sit down and start writing a story. So, is it really "sudden"? Not really, I've spent the last three days thinking about where I want this incredibly short story to go.
Second, before any of you want to psychoanalyze the point of this story and what it really means about me, don't. This is simply the idea I came up with for a story with a character named "Luilu."
...
MY FIRST TRUE LOVE
I fell in love for the first time in the second grade. Well, actually, it wasn't really the first time. As all little boys do, I fell in love for the first time when I was four. But that doesn't count because the girl I fell in love with then was my mom.
No, the first time I fell in love with somebody I wasn't related to, was in the second grade. Her name was Luilu. Luilu LaBeau. Looking back now, I wonder if her parents hated her. Luilu LaBeau? What were they thinking? But, in the second grade, you don't think about that. Names don't become objects for scorn until the third grade.
Besides, when I got to know Luilu, it really didn't matter what her name was. Never mind that my name is Larry Lawrence. How could I criticize somebody else's parents for their choice in names?
Unlike today where kids sit in groups of five or six and rotate groups throughout the year, back in those days, kids sat in rows in alphabetical order for the entire year. The first day of the year, I sat down in a desk behind Luilu ... LaBeau, Lawrence, Miller. I spent the year there, falling in love with Luilu.
Luilu had blonde curls that cascaded down her back. Those curls mesmerized me. I'd try to follow one of her tresses from the top of her head to the bottom, following the twists and turns. Inevitably, I'd get lost somewhere along the way.
She had rosy cheeks, long eyelashes, and a smile that could have melted all the ice in our freezer. Daily, at some point when the teacher was distracted, Luilu would turn, bat her eyes, and smile at me, mischievously. Just as quickly, she would turn back and look at the teacher.
Luilu and I spent the year becoming friends as only second grade kids can. I would chase her on the playground. She would ignore me when she was playing hopscotch with her friends. At lunch, we would sit at separate tables. Me with the boys. Luilu with the girls. Every once in awhile, we'd look at each other and then look away. Sometimes, I'd stick my tongue out at her.
One day, just before Thanksgiving, the ice broke in our relationship. I was sad about something. I don't know why. All I remember is that I ended up sitting in the middle of the grass field with my jacket draped over my head, hoping that nobody would notice and that I would disappear. As I sat there, Luilu approached me.
"Hey, Larry, what's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," I replied.
"What's wrong, Larry?" she asked again, sitting down a few feet from me.
"Nothing," I said. "I just want to be left alone."
"Hey," she said, "did you know you can eat grass?"
"Huh?" I said, taking my jacket off my head.
"Yeah, my brother showed me. You just pull these long pieces of grass out and you can chew on the ends."
"Won't it make you sick?" I asked.
"Nah. My brother's been doing it for years and he's never got sick from it," replied Luilu.
Luilu pulled a stalk of grass from the ground and handed it to me, while she pulled another stalk for herself. She put the end in her mouth and started chewing on it. I looked at the stalk of grass in my hand, looked back at Luilu, and decided to follow her lead. I put the grass in my mouth and sucked and chewed on the end. It wasn't bad. Suddenly, sitting there, talking to Luilu with a stalk of grass hanging out of my mouth, I felt for the first time, that I was cool. And, Luilu had showed me the way.
Luilu and I continued playing cat and mouse with each other. One day, we'd be fast friends. The next, we'd barely talk.
Towards the end of second grade, Luilu sealed her place in my seven-year-old heart forever. On one of those days when we were friends, we were sitting out in the field, chewing on grass.
"Hey," said Luilu, "I want to show you something."
"OK."
Luilu lifted the edge of her shirt and reached her hand up under her shirt. I couldn't tell what she was doing. And, then all of a sudden, she started flapping her arm and making the most delicious farting sounds with her arm. I was amazed. I was stunned. How did she do that?
"How'd you learn to do that?" I asked.
"My brother taught me."
"How do you do it?"
"You just put your hand in your armpit and start flapping."
So, I tried it. At first, it didn't work. But, eventually the little squishing noises I started with started sounding like wonderful, incredible armpit farts. And, I owed it all to Luilu LaBeau.
The last day of the school year rolled around. At the end of the day, Luilu and I were walking out of the class, when she leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. "See you next year, Larry," she said as she ran off.
The next year rolled around and Luilu wasn't there. She had moved. I never knew where and I never heard from her again.
***********************
As I finish writing this story, I realize what it's about. One of the things that is most distressing to me as I watch my kids go through life is the realization that so many of the kids who play such an integral part in their lives right now, won't be around a year from now, or two years from now, or ten years from now. I think of the people that I've known throughout my life that were vital to my success as a human being at various points, who have now disappeared from my life, and it makes me sad. I look at my kids and realize that they will experience the same thing. My oldest son's best friend from kindergarten through the second grade was a girl named Jamie. But between second and third grade, she moved. Not far, but far enough that they aren't in the same school anymore. While we still keep in touch the family, Reese and Jamie see each other only once or twice a year, instead of daily. I know that at some point the "once or twice a year" will eventually be reduced to not at all. It's disheartening that these people who play such a vital part at various stages of our lives disappear. There are so many people that I knew as a child and as a young adult that I wish now that I still knew. Where are they? What are they doing? I wish that I knew what's happening now with the girl who was the real "Luilu" for me in the second grade.
posted by Sparky at 8:16 PM
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