Tuesday, October 20, 2009

10.

"Hey dude," Kenneth said, snapping his fingers in front of George's face. "Still with us?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just really stoned," George replied still daydreaming.

"Where were you just now George? Thinking about being at a rave? The way you're dressed tonight, looks like you'd fit right in?" Melanie joked sarcastically laughing at George's bright orange pants and pastel green baby tee shirt.

"Oh, nails girlfriend, I know you didn't just dis on the threads," George snapped putting a hand on his hip and throwing his head back with attitude. " Don't be hating just because I'm a man that knows how to dress, mmkay. And what about him?" George shifted his weight and turned towards Kenneth. " What snooty comment does little miss-thinks-she's-Joan-Rivers have to say about this stylish man over here? Always wearing the same khaki cargo pants and white t-shirt, look like the brother stepped out of a J Crew catalog, and you know anyone who shops there has taste."

"Hey, hey, hey, have you ever tried cargo pants?" Kenneth asked defensively. "They're hella comfortable and that's why I buy them all the time; ain't got nothing to do with taste, comforts the way to go." That was the standard line Kenneth gave when people commented on his khaki cargo pants and white t-shirt uniform, but in reality Kenneth didn't have a lot of clothes and although he really did find the cargo's comfortable, maybe they were comfortable because they weren't two sizes to small and actually fit.

"Boy, shoot, you might as well roll up in here with sweats if you wanna be comfortable and go for that I-just-got-out-of-bed-and-I'm-way-too-cool-to-look-decent look."

"Now boys, be nice," Melanie interjected reaching up to put her arm around her six foot six friend. "George you know I love you and your adore your style. And yours too Kenneth." Melanie wrapped the other arm around easily around Kenneth, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Kenneth, needing to change the subject offered, "Well, George, if you ever wanna check it out, I know this place called Seventeen's that used to throw a lot of parties. I haven't been there in awhile, but I'm sure it's still bumbin."

Kenneth started going to parties because he loved the music and he needed an outlet to forget about the hardships of his life. There was something about walking into a dark, smoky room with loud music that struck a chord in Kenneth down to the depths of his soul. He felt the bass reverberating throughout his entire body to the point where the beat consumed him and he was finally able to let go and when he did something so liberating happened to Kenneth that he was hooked. He let the music in and started moving effortlessly, the mixing of beats and rhythms made his feet criss and then cross and then pop, faster and faster and faster until he was moving with the crowd to form one liquid motion. Hebobbed his head down and bounced his head up towards the ceiling and he felt a connection that he had only dreamed of so he kept going back for more. But soon, the scene changed and the Kenneth changed with it because the music wasn't enough anymore, it became about those little pills, it was unreal, the thrills they yield, until they kill a million brain cells.

2 comments:

Jill said...

I like your writing style a lot. I haven't written short stories since college, I need to start again! Where to you get ideas from?

shansPLC said...

Thanks Jill! This actually is a story I wrote in college, but most of the other stuff on here is based on my life with a fictional twist to make it more juicy! Thanks for reading!

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