Friday 21 March 2008

James

In the weeks after I ran that kid over I was a bit of a mess.
Friends came round sometimes to see how I was coping, but from the smell and the state of the place they could tell that I wasn’t coping well.
“Are you eating?”, “Have you been out much?” Everyone sounded like my mother during those weeks.
James, his name was. The little boy.
I saw his photo a few times in the newspaper. He had green eyes, he had brown hair that seemed to curl up at the ends and he was smiling. Maybe he smiled a lot, maybe it was just for his mother when she took the picture?
When I used to look at the photo of him I would imagine being in the room too, looking around the edges of the frame, seeing if his family were there too. Was this an occasion? His birthday, perhaps?
Sometimes I would have to slap myself hard to stop looking at his damned dimples.
On the night that it happened I hadn’t had anything to drink. Nobody would believe me afterwards but, honestly, I was dry.
At the inquest I looked over at his poor mother. I swear she sobbed the whole way through. Poor thing. Poor both of them - James and her.
I cried too. I still do. But who cares about me? Penitence is useless when you have a three foot coffin on your conscience.
So now, here I am, living on the second floor and spending all day gazing out of the window at the cars going by in the street below.
I’m still able to drive. All a horrible accident, so the judge said. Could have happened to anyone.
But that judge never saw a small boy with curls in his hair disappear under the bonnet of the car he was driving.
I can’t go out now. I can’t get in that car. James is with me and he’ll always be here.
That little boy, always smiling and laughing. James, with the brown hair and the green eyes. Always smiling.
James.

53 comments:

Anonymous said...

wow

Anonymous said...

um ... wow wow... :(

Unknown said...

i cant create sad stories. but then, maybe, i did not have to create.

Anonymous said...

like your stories, I tell mine with photo images
http://aspenimage.blogspot.com

VpM said...

great James!

Anonymous said...

a bit sad. but i like the story. :)

TheDukeOfDank said...

you suck--retard

Ger Victor said...

Wow! Your stories are like those of contemporary novels... Dramatic... keep it up! : )

Svetlana said...

made me sad. hit ur target there.

Bad Angel said...

sad...god bless james

Bad Angel said...

sad...god bless james

Pivoine said...

That's a sad story indeed.
I would like to help people who have lived such a sad story by telling them : learn the EFT procedure. EFT means "Emotional freedom techniques" and you can learn it for free in the website : http://www.emofree.com
This can be helpful for lots of things, tell all your friends about it.

Anonymous said...

I have been through this in real life.
The child didn't die - thank god.
He ran out from in front of a parked car directly in front of my car.
If I hadn't been doing well under the speed limit it would have been another story.

I'm still a very nervous driver and it happened two years ago.

Carolyn said...

Congrats on being a Blog of note!

Anonymous said...

Haunting.

Rob Windstrel Watson said...

Well done!

jyotsana said...

very sad and i felt it was true and then i read the head and felt relieved. why dont u write in print? u succeed in making people read the entire stuff.

Unknown said...

A beautiful little story. I really liked the way you stimulated the feeling of sorrow. Congratulations; one of the things which define the artist from the normal person is the former's ability to stimulate the latter's feelings and you can do that pretty well.

Anonymous said...

You made me cry a little.

James said...

That's really...Wow. Very moving.

Afrocentric said...

Great story J. really made u look at the perpertrator's side of the issue too.

Jannah said...

Paul,

James.

James is the 19 year old me who died the day I discovered boys.

Jackie said...

Great story. A little sad, but of course, that's what makes a great writer! Glad I found this blog!

Joan J said...

I have to admit that the phrase "that kid" in your first sentence brought negative connotations towards the child for me. I wonder if "the kid" or "the child" might work better? THAT kid is the bully up the street or the one who disrupts class -- "Oh, he's THAT kid..." "The child" softens the sentence and gives your reader instant sympathy for the child, only to keep reading and understand that the driver deserves sympathy as well. Just my two cents :)

Maggie said...

you are an amazing writer.

Anonymous said...

Much praise for your writing. I am loving the still and excited for having just found your blog today. Looking forward to all your posts and I'll be checking back very regularly. Keep up the great work.

Angelmother said...

Heart-wrenching. Especially for those who have children. I'm relieved this is fiction.

You are very talented!

DayDreamBeliever said...

Good story...Keep it up!

k said...

That's a great story with a nice conclusion. Thanks for sharing!

8 said...

Nice work.

Anonymous said...

That's a great story. You are talented. I felt sad after reading. Keep up the good work.

Irene Grumman said...

Your story draws the reader in to identify with the speaker. The other characters are iconic, appropriate as the speaker is still in shock. Your use of sense experience conveys emotion without having to spell it out.

This story could be the beginning of a longer story or a novel. It sets the reader up for some compelling event to force the speaker into action. In the distance, a crisis in which he/she has to choose life - or not. Noir.

I read some of your earlier stories and left comments.

You referred in your comment to Conan and The Matrix. Last night I watched Quest For Fire on www.HULU.com. Fascinating.

Anonymous said...

Great story!

Anonymous said...

That... that left me breathless. I didn't want to read it but I kept going. That is just... thats how reading is meant to be. I write too but...
Nothing, nothing like that.
I'll chack out your blog as often as I can, its amazing. I'm not going to say anything like well done, because this isn't something you can say that too. It is much, much deeper.
That Girl
http://thegospelofthatgirl.blogspot.com

svengali2 said...

You are on the professional level, if you worked with a good editor, that could help you get published.
Some of the stories are better than others, but it's not unusual. May be you could write even better without the time constrain, why do you set your pace like this, art is not a mass production.
Sincerely,
J.
http://notfromcincinnati.blogspot.com/

Nikki said...

All i can say is that you express your feelings well in terms of writing.. although its a bit sad but still you wrote it in a good and sensible manner.. good job!

Randomness said...

Nicely done. But rather short.

Tigress said...

What a sad story that was,, Yet I really hope it was not a true one,, It was truly nice,short and highly descriptive..

SP said...

s:)

Anonymous said...

that's so sad. =[

I like it alot.

You are very talented. Keep up the good work I look forawrd to coming back.

Anonymous said...

great story!

Anonymous said...

Paul,

I am a writer also.
I definitely will check out
your stories.

This approach to writing is a realy great idea!

Carrie

Anonymous said...

This short story captures the pain ... but would be more powerful if it continued on to healing and the power of forgiveness ... being forgiven by the family, by God and also forgiving ourselves. If there was no healing and no forgiveness, the only out would be yet another tragedy.

TAB Photographic said...

Honestly, I read it and want to direct the play, the 10 minute short. Could hit home in so many ways! Continue to write, to create and to dream...

Anonymous said...

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Anonymous said...

nice....wery sad....but the story isn't right. But its immpossibpe that a judge would let someone off like that. And you would have had a drug and liquor test. Its good but not realistic.

Malice Blackheart said...

Wow, man. I love how raw this story is. The wasting away of a man who has done something he can never take back. A good man. Now a broken man. Destroyed by a combination of his own love and guilt. Try as he might, he can never justify it. And the broken bits of it can never be put back together.

Anonymous said...

From a young upcoming freelance writer to you- you are amazing. This story portrays emotion perfectly. I adore your stories and I will surely keep coming back for more.
Congratulations on being a Blog of Note!

Anonymous said...

sad...:(
so sad:(
i'm a writer aswell, i have tons of stories on my computer.
some are sad like this one:(

ur a good writer
-gothicangelofdarkness

AriStar said...

I almost cryed reading this. It was very moving and I had to read the whole thing. You should take up writing...

Aleta said...

Most comments have said it all, I'll just add to it and say, Quite amazing. I liked how the main character wanted to be inside of the picture, to be a part of it, given the child is now with him, through death.

g said...

Impressive

Its Time to Live said...

you had a question about my photography and equipment - email me at aspenimage@yahoo.com