Close Encounters

I was minding my own business, sipping a Gin and Tonic. I don't go to bars for company. I go there to get drunk. And if I did want company, I certainly wouldn't go looking for it in a place that was anything like this shit hole. That's why I picked it. Figured the only reason anyone would come here is to get drunk. But I was wrong. I knew it the minute she walked in and sat down next to me...
She looked me over real good. I looked her over real good. She ordered a drink and asked, "Looking for some company?"

"No," I answered.

"Are you gay?"

The bots chattered amiably. Jack sipped his coffee and watched the news crawl. 18 dead in Iraq, 23 in Israel and 14 in Saudi Arabia in what appeared to be coordinated attacks. The Vatican bestows sainthood on filmmaker Mel Gibson… Saint Martin Riggs, Jack mused. The locale for the 25th season of "Survivor" was still a closely guarded secret… Jack knew all about that. The rumor on the Internet that it was going to be on Manhattan had of course been a hoax. Manhattan was still uninhabitable and would be for years to come…

I wanted to see what it felt like for myself. The icy cold finger of death pressed against my own forehead, steady and with just enough pressure to assure the one on the receiving end that I was in complete control. Just like I always do it. They're not people; they're just... jobs. It's what I do.

     Bill Wilson's car broke down on a lonely stretch of Rt. 96A on the east side of Seneca Lake. He was driving to a summer cottage that he and a couple of friends had rented together for the week. Bill was the only one of the bunch that had to work that day and had gotten a late evening start. He had never hitch hiked before, but as he heard a car approach behind him, he looked back and could see a police cruiser pass under a street light in the distance. Thinking that if the police couldn't provide a safe ride, no one could, he broke his own rule and stuck out his thumb...

     I had to do something. You make a few mistakes or get kicked to the curb and you'll see just how low you'll go to make a living. I can think of worse things to do. So what. Now I'm a door to door salesman. Sooner or later I had to get lucky. Trouble is, the kind of luck I ran into wasn't exactly what I had planned on...

"We are in your office.", Rodney managed to say.

David glanced wildly around him. Outside in the parking lot a car alarm began to beep.

"David", Rodney said, "You're choking me."With a horrified yelp David released Rodney. Rodney straightened his clothes, coughed a few times and sat down. David slowly sat down too. After a moment he said. "I'm so terribly sorry Rodney…I really don't know what to say…"

"Don't be too hard on yourself .", Rodney said. "Focusing in and out like that can give one a rather nasty start."

She looked like someone you could trust. The innocent expression on her face, the fragile appearance her size presented. A very attractive, and perhaps available woman in a small, convenient package. I realize that may sound a bit sexist, but I think of it more as being blunt and to the point. It saves time in the long run. Besides, men are sexist pig dogs, and I am a man.I noticed she had a cigarette hanging from her lips and couldn't seem to find her lighter in the huge purse she carried. I stepped away from the bar and approached her table to offer a light.

He snatched his hand back, bringing the attached dog head with it. He stared in agony and disbelief as the dog's jaws clamped down even harder, it's nose wrinkled back in a snarling, sustained growl and eyes glaring at him. The steering wheel jerked in an involuntary reaction to the attack. He started slamming the dog head into the dashboard, trying to dislodge it. As he did, the puppy tails he had stuffed in it's mouth when he had killed it came to life.

Jeff's friend Jake was instructed to direct traffic at the scene of the fire, even though it was so late that little or no traffic was passing the burning Bedford house. As he had little to do, he had a chance to look around Sally's yard a bit. There were many emergency vehicles parked in disarray in the yard and driveway. Most of the surrounding landscape was lit by the orange yellow glow of the fire.The house was so far gone, that they were basically just letting it burn. There was no hope of saving it.

This is one of the few stories I have written that has more than one part. I'm not sure how many parts it will end up being, probably just two, maybe three at the most. Each 'chapter' will be posted a day or so apart, depending on if I have other content to put between or not. Hope you like it!

The Hal

PS: I changed the title Firday night. It used to be "Uninvited", now called "Danny Boy."
"Hi dad."

"Hey Jeff, how's it going?"

This story has two endings. I couldn't decide which I liked better, so I wrote it both ways. I'll post the story with the alternate ending in a few days! Read on... The express elevator stopped with a shuddering jerk between the tenth and eleventh floors. The two passengers both grabbed the hand rails in confusion, wondering why it stopped at all. They had both pushed the first floor button when they had gotten on.

I wanted to thank Parteepants for posting his story. The writers challenge I brought up at Lit.org was something that we have done in our writers group down at the local library. He also brought to my attention the fact that I never posted my submission for the challenge here at Waving Alien! So above is Parteepants submission, and here is the one I wrote!

Thanks all!
The Hal

PS: Here's links to both of our stories at Lit.org. Readers actually comment there!

     "He's dead."

    I looked at the detective and said, "Yes, the missing head kind of gives it away doesn't it?"    The body was dressed in a business suit and sat at the desk as if it were placed there in a pose, it's hands folded neatly in front of him. There was no sign of a struggle, and most peculiar, no blood. This was either going to be one for the record books, or the work of a very clever and sick individual.

Warning! Strong adult language!

    I died. I know I did because to the best of my knowledge, humans have not quite gotten the knack of breathing under water yet. And that's where my car ended up after I lost control on the wet, slippery bridge and crashed through the guard rail, plunging thirty feet into the raging, rain swollen river. If the seat belt hadn't jammed, I might have gotten out.