Gemini

This is the first part of a short story.

      

 

Gemini April 24th 2007

 

Three A.M.: Man gets off the phone with a desperate mistress in need of satisfaction; I am his cab driver. He is well dressed, the business type that spends most of the day in front of a computer screen. He looks up, kindly asking if I can let him out, I glance back at him through the rare view mirror as I slowly reached the corner of Hoover Street.
        His face becomes flustered and bright red, he is anxious to get home to the coquette who lies lusting in his bed. He smiles at me paying his fair cheap with no tip, stepping out of the car and into the rain.
I watched as he made his way down Hoover using his briefcase as an umbrella, I watched as he race through his white picket fence entering his beautiful upscale home and As I watched I felt her slowly creeping up beside me. I saw the signs and she was there to insure that the signs where meant for me; gently caressing my neck, placing her lips against my ear and with a soft whisper, she told me “Time to be free.”
     I parked the car in an nearby ally and Stepped into the rain. It was so warm, calm, welcoming and yet, as each rain drop beats  against my flesh I felt a small sense of sadness, the kinda sadness one feels when morning for a lost soul.

Embracing the rain I walk to the end of the car and popped the hood of my trunk then paused, taking in the moment to gaze at the elegance which lied before me; my black leather gloves, my hat, my tie; always red for the occasion and most important my identity; a Porcelain pale mask cracked down to the ridges. Looking down at the rain puddles I could see my reflection rippling in the water as I secured my identity on to my face; I am beautiful again, I am alive and I am at peace.

    But, there is no peace not anymore, Just the superficial peace found in churches, tie dye shirts and interracial love.

It’s not real piece; not real piece like attractive women walking home two o'clock in the morning without having to look over both shoulders, the hard working individual who is judged on self, not skin tone or the young kids who can play in parks without meeting life’s end by a stray bullet. That doesn't exist, not while the ugly can still fester, so I digress to express my beauty...

Author's Note

For charter purposes this story contain intentional misspelled/miss used words and improper grammar.

Reviews

[Paul Glanville]

Liked the tale, although I'm not sure I really understand it.
A major impediment is your use of homonyms, for example:
rare view instead of rear view (mirror), or fair vs. fare (cheap fare), or piece vs. peace...
Only spotted one questionable bit of punctuation:
"But, there is no peace not anymore, Just the..."
...is wrong, but could be passably punctuated a couple of ways...

[DemiG]

Thank you for the feed back. This story is a series of jornal entries so When it comes to the grammar and spelling such as fair vs fare, it was intentionally written that way to due to the charters lack education. This was to be explain this later on however, small changes can be made here to better understand it. Again thank you for the feed back.