C.

C.

 

“Tonight was good,” she said as she ran a finger through her hair.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I was scared about performing some of the songs,

but I thought the entire chorus sounded really good.”

The two highschool students walked down the semi-silent hallway

together.

Slowly,

they rounded the bend to walk in the hall behind the auditorium,

the boy trying to remember the lines he’d rehearsed.

They stopped and stared at each other in silence,

both waiting for the other to speak. He

suddenly started humming a short tune and smiled when he finished.

“Tunelessly humming,” he said with a smirk on his face and a smirk in his voice.

“Tunelessly humming…” she replied.

Another portion of silence overtook them until she said,

“Well, I have to find my parents among the crowd"they’re driving me home.”

“Oh, okay,” he replied as his notes wavered.

He opened his arms for a hug and she did the same;

their bodies intersected without tension interceding, their

arms draping round each other like how

the cloak of night latches onto the landscape with the color of sanguine.

They retracted their heads from one another’s shoulders;

 

he looked into her eyes,

 

her green-grey irises ringed in ovals of black eyeliner.

 

He kissed her.

 

He waited another moment then kissed her again and she soon retracted. She then said,

 

“I uh…I’m late for a lobotomy.”

 

“Wait, what?” he replied, confused like a dog sitting on a whale.

 

“I’m late for a lobotomy.”

“Oh…can I pick you up from that?”

“I’ll uh…be unconscious.”

“Well, I could kiss you and make you conscious.”

“Your presence will be enough of a wake-up call.”

“…so that means I can pick you up?”

“Um…I’m not sure…”

“But if I don’t wake you up, you’ll be unconscious for the rest of your life.”

“That may be an option worth considering.”

“What?”

“Um…oh, look at the time! I’m having an aneurism…”

“Then I should take you to the emergency room!”

 

“But…that means you’ll have to drive through a wormhole and defeat the…uh…the immortal Morgan Freeman!”

 

“Why are--”

“I have to go…” she said, cutting his statement short. She opened the door to the auditorium, walked off the stage and through the rows. The boy still stood where he was and finished his statement:

 

“Why are you so nervous?’

Reviews

[Jeremia]

I feel kinda like the boy left with unfinished sentences. Your writing captures a lot without actually saying it, creating an imagery that the reader has to kinda put together. I like it.

[Carolyn Falls]

Excellent work in progress. This is a story that needs to be finished. Keep writing. Tell the story. The end product will be worth it.

[Call_Me_Miss_Imperfect]

I really liked it and wanted to keep scrolling down the screen:) Great job!

[DearSweetAgony]

I agree with Coyote Poetry, this 'poem' seems more like an unfinished screen play or a small part in a short story than a poem. Although this poem seems a tad bit confusing to the reader, I think that maybe there is some kind of reason for the way of this write. Like perhaps "C." stands for confusion and confusion is sort of attached to Lobotomy (well, to me it is) and through this write you are trying to explain.....something? I don't know, all I know is that this is a very interesting write indeed! I can say that for sure! Great write, it really had me thinking!

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good story in the poem. To me felt more like a story that needed more chapters. I like the conversation and you left me with a open ending. I hope to read more. A excellent poem.
Coyote