Fiction

Petticoats upon petticoats are lifted over me and settled on my delicate hips. It’s a surprise that I don’t snap like a twig from the weight of them.

I feel like I was particularly mature when I went by the name of Adrian Cole. Of course I would since it was the name on my fake ID.

“Come with me a moment.” he said. With worn down palms facing the sapphire sky, he offered me an escape. I was pinned between the rough brick wall of the brothel I worked at and the man who was my once lover.

Every spring, I visited my girlfriend until the year I met Ignatius Zachary. My girlfriend lived down in Mexico for a certain charity job, she never really told me about it.

A real lady, that’s what I would call her. She was called many other things, most of which were degrading. A real lady she was rarely called, I was really the only one to do it, but to her it was water off a duck’s back.

To the others I seem crazy. I don’t have much, barely scraping by in this soul sucking place our damned souls call home, but what leftovers I have, I give to the crows.

Most people would call me an imaginary friend, but I don’t like that term. I’d like to just be called “friend.” When Jerry was four, his dad left him and his mom. A month later he created me --I guess to deal with it all.

Taller than the rest

Sorry, for the late draft, I've been traveling the last week or so, and things have just been hetic. 
AT CURTAIN RISE
SCENE 1

this is the most recent draft of the pilot script to the series i've been working on. it's been through a lot of evolutions, i posted a show bible a while back (find that here for background information).

We wait like teenagers for our owners’ car to leave the driveway. All day has been spent reading the notes back in my head, turning the humans’ nonsense words into lyrics of my song, catching their absent-minded humming in my cracks.