Another Short Story =]

Hi everybody! Hope this lovely June day finds you all well =]

I did it! I actually wrote some Avaria today! It was, like, 300 words, but I'm proud that I actually did it XD I should be done with the 4th or 5th edit-through of this book in another couple thousand words, and shall be posting frequent snippets for you to tear apart :D

Today I went to a graduation party for meh cousin. 'Twas a very interesting party and I had fun =] I sat with my sister and wrote in my secret writing book for a good while, and I actually came up with something good enough to get its own Word document.

This is a muse--very random, with no real inspiration behind it besides the obvious. It's pretty choppy and....
 unedited, so sorry if it's a hard read =P

Hopefully I'll be able to get up some Avaria for you to chew on in the next couple of days!

Have a great Sunday!

Elisabeth~

Jimmy Tercotta Turned Seven Today

There were balloons on his mailbox in the morning and the mailman asked what occasion necessitated such large, green balloons.

“Jimmy turns seven today,” Mother said. “His favorite color is green.”

Nothing came in the mail for him, but Mother said that everyone loved him even if they forgot to send him presents. Mother swept the kitchen and fed their dog, Shiloh. Then she pulled out fat, round rolls of green streamers.

“Now, we mustn’t tape the wall, now,” she said. “That might peel the paint.”

After she had hung his last streamer, she set the table for the birthday dinner. “We’re having pizza,” she told him. “I ordered cheese and one mushroom pizza for Daddy. That’s his favorite, you know.”

When the table was ready, Mother put on a movie—Bambi. It was a perfect birthday film—exciting with only a few mushy parts. Mother cried.

Daddy came home at five o’clock—just a little bit early. He carried two boxes of steaming pizza. “The pizza man said to say happy birthday to Jimmy,” he said as he set the boxes down and kissed Mother on the cheek.

They ate the delicious, drippy pizza and laughed a lot. Mother talked about Bambi and cried some more. They took the ice cream cake out of the freezer and Mother stuck seven green and blue candles into its flat white surface. Mother and Daddy sang “Happy Birthday to You” and they all blew out the candles together and gave hugs and even hugged Shiloh. Daddy put on the very end of Bambi while Mother cleaned up the dishes and gave Shiloh a pizza crust and a kiss.

            “It’s time,” said Daddy. They put on the warmest coats and went out through the melting February snow to the car. It was a short ride and almost dark when they arrived. Daddy suggested that they wait until tomorrow, but Mother said no. They walked across the empty parking lot and under the arching gate towards their Special Birthday Place. Mother pulled out a package from under her coat and smiled. “It’s a special present,” she explained. “To open for Jimmy’s birthday.” Daddy nodded. They held hands.

            They found the Special Birthday Place under a leaning elm tree. Mother knelt down and put Jimmy’s present on a small white rock in the ground.

            “Here you are, Jimmy,” she said. “Happy Birthday.”

            “We love you, son,” Daddy said.

            Mother carefully pulled the paper away from Jimmy’s present. It was a little green dump truck with black wheels. She didn’t take it out of its box, but set it back down and brushed snow off the little white rock.

            “I wish I could hold you,” Mother said. “My baby boy.”

            Daddy kissed his fingertips and placed them on the face of the white rock. They brushed the surface and sunk into deep, achingly deep lines in the stone.

James “Jimmy” Tercotta

January-February 11^th, 2004

Mother hugged Daddy. They left holding hands, just as it was beginning to snow.

The next day, the caretaker’s son found Jimmy’s little dump truck and was allowed to take it home, because his father said that the Tercottas only visited the grave once a year and that the presents were never missed.

And besides Mother and Daddy and Shiloh and the elm tree, no one knew that Jimmy Tercotta turned seven that day, nor that his tiny body—no larger than a tear of melting snow—was not in his small coffin, but had long ago been wrapped in a special black plastic bag and laid to rest and to be forgotten with every passing birthday.

[Super Secret Text Not To Be Read Until the Story has been Devoured: This is about abortion. Well, one that happened a while ago, I suppose. I thought about taking out the very ending part--Let me know what you think! Also, it would be VERY helpful if you could tell me if you KNEW the ending before it actually ended. I'm trying to work on not completely killing a short story with foreshadowing XD]