A Short Story

I've debated with myself for quite a while on whether or not to post this story.  I have been working hard recently on writing short stories. Truly, short stories. This was one of them, so for that reason I wanted to post it. But for the simple fact that it deals with a highly controversial issue, I didn't want to post it and risk finding myself in a heated debate. At last I have decided to go ahead. After all, I don't really draw any conclusions, I leave that up to the reader. So please if you don't agree with my point, or even if you do, keep in mind this blog is for writing, not debating. I would appreciate help with my story but I'm not looking to begin a dispute.



Dolice swung a leg out the door of his silver Toyota pickup, his right hand still groping around in the back of the cab. His ring finger grazed a piece of cold metal and his large hand quickly closed over it. He lifted the pistol into his lap and checked the chamber. Good, it was full. He didn't have much more time.

Both feet touched the ground as he sprang lightly out into the alley.  This was a typical little access, full of pot holes, crumpled garbage cans and shattered glass. Glancing over his shoulder, Dolice moved away leaving his door wide open. He'd want it that way for a quick escape.

His hands shook as he strode up the rusted fire escape stairs two or three steps at a time. It wasn't that he wanted to do this. He simply had no choice, there could be no surviving witnesses.  He gripped the gun more tightly, there was no time for even a sip to steady himself.

A dented metal door hesitantly lumbered open when he kicked it, letting barely enough light in to penetrate the cave-like darkness. Inside there were three forms, bound and gagged. He could barely make them out.

The clerk, the old man who had been in the alley the day it all happened, and the pawn shop owner. It wouldn't do to try holding them hostage. No, especially not here where he could be surrounded in minutes.

He raised the gun and lined up his sights on the first bundle. he could see the young man's terrified eyes above the gagged mouth. Somehow though, he was so tied he didn't really seem human. Dolice relaxed a little, this would be easier than he had thought. He pulled the trigger. One.

He shifted a little and pointed the short barrel and the next lump of rope. Two. And then again. There, that was three. Turning he fled from the smoke filled room. That part was done and over. Now to move on to the next piece of business. He clattered down the stairs.

                                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr.Kordakov opened the door of his black sports car and swung a leg out. The crisp morning wind picked up stray pieces of his greying hair  and tossed them back and forth. His brown eyes glanced at the sign above his clinic.

"Headiesville Family Planning Services" On the door he could barely make out the paper he knew said, "We offer abortions." and another small white sticker on the one window which announced that he had a legal business permit.

He ducked back in his car and snatched his spotless lab coat. Just another day of work.



Alright, if you don't mind me asking, what was your conclusion? 
Did you see any connection between the two stories or were they totally unrelated scribbles I glued together? 
Do you have any ideas for a title?

Honestly I am not sure what to think of this story myself. It simply popped into my head one day while I was studying and I couldn't get it out. So I set aside my books, which I was not enjoying anyway, and wrote it down.

A Typical Dream...

Going back and rereading this story, I remember why I've never posted it. Oh well... Basically one day I felt like writing something new but had no clue as to what, so I just sat down and wrote. Haha, it's pretty bad...

I'm starving. It's boiling hot out as the sun beats down on me and my companion. I'm not sure exactly who he is, but I think he's good. Here to help me at least. He's wearing one of those Eskimo fur coats for some reason, and he has a beard about as long as my legs. And he's short. Shorter than me. And I'm shorter than
short, which makes him, well, extremely short. I wish I had brought a coat because I seem under-dressed in my froggy tank-top and pink pajama shorts. There is someone else smoldering in this heat with us now. She's wearing a coat too. An orange one. Now I know I am the odd one out.

The sand dissipates under our feet, and we enter some sort of hotel, or maybe it's a museum – I'm not sure. I just wish I was home. Why am I here anyways? And I desperately need a bathroom. I'd ask the bearded man but I really don't know him. He smells funny too. A familiar smell, but I can't place it.

“Where are we?” I ask as he leads me through giant set of double doors. They snore on their creaky hinges like they've been sleeping for ages, but I know they haven't. There are tons of people swarming in here. Their chatter reminds me of a beehive my brother showed me once. He had stuck a stick in it and told me to stand still.

“Where are we?” I dare to raise my voice above the buzz again. The midget man doesn't answer. He just barrels right through the crowd, expecting me to follow. I don't know where the woman went. Maybe to the bathroom. Man, I need that place more than ever now. I glance back toward the double doors, but they are shut now. If I had the guts I'd ask the man, but I don't trust him, not one bit. Besides, he probably wouldn't answer me anyway. My eyes search for him in the sea of people, but I've lost him. You would think it would be easy to spot him in that coat, but everyone here is wearing coats. I am practically naked in my pajamas. At least nobody was staring – yet. As if on cue, a lady turns around and gasps.

She elbows a pudgy man next to her. “Do you see that girl? What's up with mothers teaching their children to go around without coats these days?”

“Did your Momma teach you to wear hairy coats in the dead heat of summer?” I ask her in my head.

“Yes,” Her voice pops into my mind. “Did yours not? Who is your mother?”

“She's at home,” I say and run for a tiny green door on my left. I have to find a bathroom.