Small Writing Exercise

The children were laughing and hollering, running amongst the clean, fresh jungle gyms and the swing-sets. The sun was in full tilt, blasting his beams on the passersbys, and in the distance is one lone cat, rolling about on the hill under a shady oak tree, its’ branches splayed out and spindly with Spanish moss strewn about. The cat continued rolling in a circular motion with a certain spastic and erratic manner, albeit charming; the only thing visible was the small belt of grey across his stomach with a small round buckle at the apex.

Marvin Gaye, darting up the hill in a blue cardigan sweater and khakis, laughs as he pulls the cat up, scruffing its’ neck and slowly running his palm along the top of his forehead. Einstein in the distance is throwing a Frisbee towards the children.

Vega, the small cat, purred and cooed in Marvin’s arms, his tail slapping about.

Marvin slowly lowers himself against the tree, still petting Vega, as he hums to himself softly.

The tree slowly comes to life with its eyes emerging from the large branches, hanging down like limp socks. Dollar bills and fresh wild blueberries burst out of its’ eyes as the tree screams and screams. Marvin, Einstein and all of the small children grab handfuls of the blueberries and smear the soft berries across their face; Marvin smears blueberries all over Vega’s shiny pelt. The sun laughs a coarse laugh and giggles, rolling about in the sky, coughing up long viscous strands of phlegm all over the trees.



I slowly stir from my sleep, still handcuffed to the local gas station toilet, coughing. My forehead, nose and cheek bones are caked with dried blood. One lone hand slides under the toilet stall with fingers wriggling. I spit a 10-dollar bill into the hand and my handcuffs fall to the ground.