jigsaw92301

Running North

jigsaw92301 — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 04:05:11 GMT

I was heading north through Boston tonight. The city was lit up like a spectacular spaceship waiting to take off. Going north, when the city looks it’s best, you disappear down into the tunnel
The tunnel. I love that tunnel. Lit up like a summer day all the time.
The Big Dig.
I was happy the roof didn’t collapse. I think of it every time I go through. That’s what I like about it. All it could take is a bunch of tractor trailers on the street above to perhaps deliver a hearty blow that triggers a fall.

Imagine driving through there and tractor-trailers start falling from the ceiling. Cars would be slamming into things at 50..60..70 miles per hour.

People fly around that slick turn. People love that turn. They blow around it and merge perfectly every time with two other lanes.
Like giant metal monsters hurtling and barreling forward towards the night sky.
A beautiful ballet of cars. A ballet of speed and timing.
Human intuition, reaction and precision. Math.
Traffic.

Norman Willis

jigsaw92301 — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 05:59:12 GMT

01.18.2010 - First Draft
01.22.2010
02.01.2010
02.02.2010
02.03.2010
02.04.2010
02.24.2010

Norman Willis
By Timothy Pearson

Chapter One
Monday
December 1st, 1980
Paris, Maine

At that moment, it could possibly have been the darkest room in the world. To the left of the door the funeral director stood looking at his pocket watch. He snapped it shut and watched the five grieving family members look down in complete silence. Although the weather has been unusually warm this year, another burial started in three hours. The funeral director that, within the next ten minutes, he needs to make sure these sobbing customers are en-route to the cemetery to bury the poor bastard before the ground freezes.

The casket bearing the deceased had a metallic shimmer to it. The man inside was the distinguished Simon McGrath. After three heart attacks, this wealthy sixty-two year old finally found himself minutes away from his last car ride. Simon’s body had countless miles on it. Not only did he claim that he had been in every country in the world, he also had photographs to prove it. And not just borders and villages, he was photographed in the capital of every nation. The thought of a “final resting” place for him didn’t settle well with his son, Jacob McGrath.

After Jake’s mother died, his father took off for three decades. Jake married at 34 and had a son and two daughters. Simon would send his son money, pictures, and things for the kids. These events were few and far between, until last week. Last week he finally came home.

Jake was never angry with his father, he was just happy that he stayed in touch and enjoyed life. When Jake’s mother died, he worried about Simon when news of her fate had reached him. Simon was an invisible man, but his heart was warm and felt by all who survived him.
His entire family stood there, devastated. Looking down on the casket, which was closed. The only five family members began to turn away. Putting on their gloves, they nodded at the funeral director and left. Not a moment later, the director unlocked the wheels on the stand. Four pallbearers approached at the same time, and placed one hand on the casket. With a one-handed push, they wheeled it out the double-sided doors.

As the door closed, the director saw the hearse outside. The backdoors were open, the men stood around in black coats, and the exhaust lingered as it pumped out into the chilly air (it was 39 degrees for the first time this year). He grabbed a hat and followed the pallbearers. This should be a quick service. So quick, he didn’t notice that he had left the door unlocked. As he zipped up his coat he stopped. Turning and looking at the door, he saw the open latch. “It’s fine”, he thought. And off he went to the cemetery.

Simon McGrath was colder than the air outside. The living remnants of the man were the four direct family members in the car behind him. His son, Jake, and his three grandchildren were all that were left. The two girls were twins at the age of thirteen. Jenna and Jaime were problems in school. When Jenna wasn’t cheating on tests and stealing the Bunsen burners, she was throwing the basketball games for the opposite team. She had rates. Twenty dollars a game and one hundred dollars for any event on field day.

Jaime was less of a problem. Although she looked exactly like her sister, Jaime ran a very successful toothpaste business. A few years ago, she made toothpaste as a science fair project. It was easy, cheap, and tasted like strawberries. She made so much for her project (by accident), that when spring came, she sold toothpaste at the bake sale. It sold out in twenty minutes. The PTA has helped her pawn it since. The word around the campfire is that she grossed almost $4,200 last year alone. And she was only thirteen. She was thirteen and also bearing over 32 detentions for her foul language in the classroom. At least she had nice teeth.

Jake’s boy was 11. After spending 2 years worth of allowance (or $653.62) on a remote control model airplane, he crashed it into a marsh off of the east side of Jermick Swamp. He never recovered the plane. He spent the next 2 years drawing pictures of airplanes. The planes turned into rockets, which turned into discs, which turned into abstract images of fantastic places. Jermick Swamp became an unfortunate site for the boy.

The boy’s name is Norman Willis McGrath.
And this is his story.

Here I Am

jigsaw92301 — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 17:56:16 GMT

I bet not many people have thought about what goes on in a single day. A major event for you, is common place to many others. For example, Farah Fawcett died today. So did Dennis Bailey of Albany, William Peterson of North Hampton, and Ahmed Farijah of Delhi. All of whom I have never met, and all have never met each other. But today, the 25th, was the day their ticket was punched. Today, like any other, called on a certain group to form an audience that will forever be connected with this date. I could be one of them. The day is far from over.

It wasn't a surprise to me that when I had all four of my wisdom teeth pulled out 2 days ago, that the attitude of the doctor was one of routine.
"How often do you do this" I asked.
"Well, I've had four already today. And two after you." he said.
"I see, and how long does this take?"
He held up my xray and muttered, "About a half an hour."
It was about this time his two assistants came in. I couldn't decide which one was better looking, so I kept glancing back and forth at both of them. I failed to get either one of the names.

The tall one said,"You have a ride driving you home, right? You'll be pretty sedated."
I looked at her and said, "Well I was hoping you would give me a lift."
A small chuckle came from behind her face mask.
After a moment or two, she stuck a needle into my arm.
"This is getting more kinky by the minute!" I exclaimed. Another chuckle. I was nervous, and being a comic jackass was my defense mechanism. I asked if it was too late to change my mind. The doctor said "no", the cute nurse said "yes".
"This is an interesting line of work you got yourself into, ma'am. Be honest, you just like sticking people with needles." She didn't say anything.

"Ok," the doctor said, "In about 20 seconds we'll be getting started."
"Well, when can I smoke a butt and drink a beer again?" I asked. No answer.
I continued with what I knew would be my last words, "You know, I will be waking up swinging."
The doctor, motioned to the nurse, "Well, swing in that direction. I'll be over here".
And that was it. I was out. I wanted the last word, and the doctor had it.

A moment later I awaken in another room with the violent, yet pretty nurse. And, dammit, I noticed my girlfriend sitting next to me. She even manages to ruin a half-assed, drug induced flirtation session.
"Do you know where you are?" she asked.
I shook my head "no".
"You don't remember me walking you in here?"
I shook my head "no".
"Would you like some water?"
I shook my head "yes". I don't remember getting or drinking any water. The next thing I know, Im standing in the hallway, looking into the room where they took out my teeth. My girlfriend some how managed to get my wallet, and was giving them the co-pay.
I stood there, practicaly in the room, watching this girl going under exactly how I did. Not more than 45 minutes ago I was there, wide awake, with all my teeth.

Now, I'm walking out, with giant tampons in my mouth and no clue whats going on. I slept. I slept for the next 14 hours. And threw up. And bled. It was the worst thing that has ever happened to me (medically).
But it happens everyday. It's as common as finding a penny in the road, or getting a parking ticket, or wishing you got the name of a pretty nurse.
But this, happens only once. Wisdom teeth never come back. All I have left is a bottle of pills, cotton pads, some minor bleeding, and the memory. I remember the day it was my turn. I will never forget it, and I wasn't even there. I will remember her, and the needle, and how I felt when I woke up safely. In the room with the pretty nurse and sitting next to my angel-eyed girlfriend. How lucky am I, to awaken to a life I have always had... but never examined. How lucky.

"Death" by tim pearson

jigsaw92301 — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 06:52:10 GMT

Life beyond 100.
Life beyond passion.
Life beyond the stars.

Life beyond hostility,
Life beyond love.

Life smeared across the dashboard
Life dripping from a broken windshield
Life hangs in mid-air for a brief moment, then
Life lands over the guardrail and into a tree.
Life ending.... tragically.

Life starting slowly.
Life sustained by a mother.
Life spreads life's wings - and
Life roams the world.

Life flowing like a river
Life twisting like an endlessly wound slinky.
Life portrayed on a canvas
Life flickering - like a movie reel that has ended.

A life always hangs in the balance
A life can be as lonely as death
A life spent asleep
A life that is airbourne
A life aquatic
A life less ordinary
A life left half finished
A life given only once - and cannot be matched.
A life spent trying to live
What life knows all kinds of life?
Life beyond 100.

"Life" by tim pearson

jigsaw92301 — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 06:33:22 GMT

Death before 100.
Death comes in one color & one size fits all.
Death laughs hysterically.
Death has a throne.

Death spent in the gorund
Death spins like a delicate pinwheel as
Death washes our faces clean.
Death around every corner.
Death consistantly watching.

Death laying on the beach.
Death standing in the street.
Death without a jacket makes
Death love disease.

Death in many cities
Death will never sleep - and
Death will never blink.

Death is for dinner
Death grows in the yard
Death knows more about life than
Death knows about itself.
Death is a privledge, while
Death's game is rigged.

Death by cancer
Death by the sword
Death by life.
Death plays hardball - especially a
Death before 100.

"Nine Minute Lock" by tim pearson

jigsaw92301 — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 06:27:33 GMT

Nine Minute Lock

Each minute has sixty seconds.
Sixty moments to figure out
How best to prepare
For the next minute.

Combinations are endless.
Even with the chain we all wear-
Sixty seconds to unlock the next.
Sixty seconds.

Within each minute, eternity's code is buried.