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 |  For the Rising Stars Program |
Welcome to the Rising Stars Blog! This blog will be different than my other blog "Soul's Windows"  in that it's dedicated to a singular topic: My Rising Stars Pursuits :) |
| I wasn’t trying to get fired. I mean, sure, being an online pirate isn’t a great example for the kiddos, but who had to know? It all started when I met Blackbeard. I know how that sounds, but I’m dead serious. Blackbeard came back from the dead just to ruin my life. Let me start from the beginning… So, I run a pretty tight gig pirating and selling movies online for half price, which earns me about minimum wage, surprisingly, and so to up my cash influx I also operate as a mall attendant in the food court, and during the winter, I’m a mall santa. Really fun stuff, but I digress. So here’s how it happened: It was winter, so I had just peeled off the red coat and fake beard, and was about to head home. When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a dude in my car, giving me fear. (Ok, I was still in character, you’ll have to excuse me.) Now, here’s the odd part. This dude looked old. I mean, really, really old. His clothes were all leather, long jacket and a scabbard holding what appeared to be a cutlass. My first thought was Huh. Nice cosplay. My next thought was Ahh! Pirate man in my car! I’m gonna die. So I did the only thing anyone in my position would do. I got in the car, locked the door, and waited for what he had to say. “Well, laddy.” “Well indeed.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wanted to make a good impression. “Do ye know why I’m here?” “Nope. Killer outfit, by the way. Where’d you get it?” “On the high seas, laddy. I reckon you know a bit about the tempest of the sea?” “No, actually.” “Well, aren't ye a pirate?” “Not that kind of pirate! Who are you anyway?” “The name be Blackbeard, matey.” “No way. You mean the Blackbeard? Of olden times? Famous pirate Blackbeard?” “Aye. But now I must be going, ye aren’t who I’m lookin’ for.” And with that he disappeared, never to be seen again. (By me at least) So please reconsider my termination, It’s not my fault that I confessed. Thanks! Dan |
| “Give me your phone.” “No. Nope, absolutely not. Never in a thousand years.” She looked at me, skepticism written all over her face. “Look. I need to call my brother. Can I please just use your phone?” “Hmm. Well, you do have to call your brother somehow...better find another way.” I groan, sliding down the wall before hitting the ground. I’ve got to get to my brother. I’ve got to let him know what happened. “Why exactly do you need to call him anyway?” “It’s not your business!” I shout, before immediately feeling guilty. I need her help if I want to tell my brother anything. “I’m sorry. Really. But I just can’t talk about it.” She slides down beside me, resting her hand on my knee. “You can tell me.” I sigh, leaning back and closing my eyes. “It’s a long story. You don’t want to hear it, I promise.” “Try me. We’ve got time.” I push myself up, starting to pace. My footsteps echo weirdly loud on the tiled linoleum. She’s still on the floor, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers. “Caleb? What happened?” Her words hit me like a slap in the face. She knows my name. How? “How do you know my name?” I ask abruptly. “Who are you?” “What’d you mean?” “I mean what I said. How. Do. You. Know. Me.” I say dragging each syllable out. “I don’t.” “You do. You called me Caleb.” “Did I?” She comes to stand beside me, eyebrows raised. “Sorry.” “Answer the question.” “Answer mine first.” “Fine. I need to call my brother because I’m concerned about him. He wasn’t doing well when I last checked in on him. Nothing really happened, I just needed to call him to check in. Happy?” “Alrighty then.” She tosses her phone over to me, the calling app already waiting for number input. “Can you answer my question now?” “Yeah.” “And?” “I already gave you my phone. Isn’t that answer enough?” |
| Poems Birds sing overhead Deer prance on the grass below Spring finally sprung Wails of sirens Echo across Manhattan Racing against the clock Emergency workers rushing Memorial services and Enduring tragedy and Memories of that terrible day Bringing flowers and prayers Ending up here, 20 years later Remembering 9/11 Kids life's constant joy smiling, bouncing, giggling, hopping into a game of tag, children |
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