Snapshots
These are a bundle of short stories. Mostly they're your favorite characters doing regular human things, just like you. Basically I see something we do every day muse over how natural it is. I like the idea of characters we like doing normal things. Some are funny, some are somewhat meaningful. I hope you enjoy.
Rated: T, just in case
Feliks sat at the bus stop, sheltered from the rain pelting the city. He stared at the almost grey city, smelling the sweet rain and listening to the rustle of the city.
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Arthur offered his elbow to the young lady. She had been sitting, staring demurely at him from across the field, silently and hoping someone would come and pay her a dance. The sky was thick with stars and the clearing was thick with music. Arthur had become processed by the sudden desire to befriend everyone there, or perhaps that was the mead thinking. She now glanced at his freckled elbow and shook her head, her eye drifting to the brunette young woman laughing with a similar looking man whom Arthur assumed was her brother. He grinned and winked, going off to get this red headed girl her partner.
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Alfred pushed his glasses up his nose and glanced at himself in the small mirror. His cheeks were peppered with innocent pimple-pricks and his mouth was heavy with new, green braces. The music boomed from his stereo, the wind rustling the calendar, JULY 1996. He heard his mother call him sharply and he sighed, chores.
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The sun shone sharply through his window, casting a white glow over Alfred's bare chest, covered with a small forest of curled yellow hairs. He frowned at his reflection. His belly seemed a bit pudgy today. Perhaps he should have stayed away from that fudge. Pinching at his very small amount of flab, he twisted, glancing at the rest of him.
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Arthur leaned over and pulled his sock off. Humming, he pulled the trash can form besides the toilet, where he was sitting with the cover down. He pulled out the nail clippers from his robe pocket and started snipping.
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Wang Yao leaned over the counter, brushing his teeth vigorously with mint toothpaste. He liked to smell fresh. Once finished he tugged a brush through his hair, then tying it back into a high pony tail. He thought about cutting his hair, running his fingers through it. He decided against it.
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Matthew leaned into the mirror, close enough so his nose brushed against the surface. He stared at that one zit, right there on the side of his nose. He huffed in frustration and went to popping it.
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Erika leaned back. The hairdresser smiled warmly at her and collected the sunshine-blonde hair in her hand. She turned on the faucet and started washing her hair. Erika smiled at the pleasure of having skilled fingers rub her scalp and the warm water run over it, like silk.
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Clapping his hands together, Alfred stared hungrily at the array of bacon and eggs, the smell filling his lungs along with the background perfume of pine trees he'd grown used to. His house, perched safely in the nook of the Rockies was a perfect spot, he thought, for living life.
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Peter laughed, trailing his kite behind him. It soared like a magnificent hawk, blocking out the sun briefly, the clear blue sky clashing violently with the kite's red material. Peter grinned, squinting through the sunlight at his guardians and raising his hand to wave hello, I'm doing awesome! Then he stepped on one of his shoe laces and tripped. He skidded on the sidewalk, landing in the grass. His knee stung, but he didn't cry.
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Francis sipped coffee at a small café in Paris, watching the autumn leaves eddy down in small loops to the ground.
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The group sat rolling laughter. The crickets chirped and the sun was beginning to set. The friends, Elizaveta, Arthur, Alfred, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Francis all sat around the porch table, which was laden with various snacks. Someone had cracked a joke which lead to another, and ultimately lead to tears of laughter dripping down their cheeks.
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Elizaveta hopped around the room. She tugged at the skinny jeans which had slipped up her calves easily enough but had come to an abrupt stop at her thighs. Sighing angrily she started to pull them off, only to realize they had gotten stuck.
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Gilbert picked up his phone, waiting impatiently for it to load with funny cat pictures, as he sat on the toilet.
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Kiku strummed on the guitar, singing English karaoke poorly in the small room, his eyes closed and passion ringing outwards from his chest. Despite missing every note, he was still enjoying himself thoroughly.
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Alfred yawned, blinking awake and glancing at the clock. At first it did not register, even as he pulled on his boxers and socks. Then, as he finally sipped his coffee, he realized he was late. He ran out the door, forgetting to put his pants on for work.
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Ludwig walked his German shepherd through the snow-filled streets of the small German town, snuggled into his striped scarf. He waved at various passer-bys and laughed when a little child giggled in delight at his dog, asking greedily to pet him. Ludwig obliged and watched the dog yap happily and like the child's rosy face.
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Alfred bent over his Geometry test. His brain seemed to have stopped completely and he nearly cried with the effort of remembering the theorems. He glanced at his brother, Matthew, who was already turning in the exam. Alfred closed his eyes and imagined the big, red D on his paper. He gulped and guessed. He had a 1/4th chance anyway.
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Elizaveta sat on the subway, rocking slightly with the swaying of the vessel. She dug through her purse, which was a big red, leather bag and appeared to have no end to the bewildered man sitting beside her. As far as he could see, she had everything in there. He saw three chapsticks, a make-up purse, a package of tissues, a small hair brush, her phone, two sets of keys, and many other things he would never even have guessed would be in anyone's "mobile belongings". He missed his stop.
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Ivan tapped his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. He hated traffic.
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Katrina sunk into the bath, closing her eyes and allowing her skin to be immersed in the silky texture of the soap-water. She smiled to herself, finally a day to herself.
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Natalia sat at her window, watching the grey snow fall lazily to the earth. Her silver hair poured over the colorless nightgown and her face bore no expression. She blinked slowly, a sign that she was real and not an oil painting.
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Alfred rocked the air-guitar, his stereo system blaring. He sang loudly, rejoicing that his parents weren't home and he could jam to Rock n' roll in his orange life preserver in peace.
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Matthew took his afternoon walk down the street. The sun was beating down on him and he decided that perhaps today wasn't the best for his fragile skin. At least, that's what his doctor had said. He passed a small stand and paused. It was a table covered with a white table cloth, with messy childish handwriting saying "LEMONADE, 5cents" He glanced at the big sister and her small brother and grinned. He placed a nickel on the table and took the paper cup.
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Matthew tried contacts once. His eyes burned for an hour afterwards and tears slipped down his cheeks. He had to call his brother to take him home, unable to look the kind lady in the face anymore afterwards.
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Alfred had a little hobby. He would sit on his porch and strum his guitar. He didn't sing, he let the neighbor's little girl, with a hair full of braids and a voice full of soul do that.
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Antonio skidded to a stop at the corner. He hunched forward, taking deep breaths, clutching his knees. One of his ear buds was dangling at his chest, having dislodged from his ear during the morning run.
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Lovino pedaled frantically, breaths coming in short gasps. The chilly wind snapped against him. He didn't know where he was going, but he went and went and went.
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The rain pelted down. The windows wept and Arthur's hair stuck to his face. He was frowning and on his knees, trying to edge the little duckling in his hands into the shelter inside the cardboard box.
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Peter patted his sand castle down, smiling at the creation. The ocean's water kissed his toes with each passing, calm wave. He covered his eyes with a small, sandy hand and stared towards the vast, sparkling blue waters before him.
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Toris screamed. His stomach plummeted and he shut his eyes. The roller coaster dipped again and he felt as though his heart was in his head. Then, finally, it slowed. He stepped out dizzily, slapping a hand to his mouth, preparing to vomit. Feliks was laughing hysterically and trying to comfort Toris. Toris was not comforted, but smiled regardless.
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Matthew's sneakers squeaked against the gymnasium's floor. He noticed that a piece of toilet paper was stuck to one tall girl's shoe. He went up to tell her. Her face flushed red and suddenly he heard the "BOI-YOING" of a dodge ball. His face hurt and his glasses were a foot away.
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The shower head hissed, spitting out water at an alarmingly slow rate. Gilbert was already too tall for the space and cramped slightly. The apartment in whole was too small, he thought, as he washed his bony frame. He needed money.
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The tree rustled, disregarding the breezeless wind. Beneath it, the sun spotted Feliciano's sleeping face, his book pressed to his chest, and a small smile on his lips.
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Alfred was on his knees, hands pressed together. He begged his printer to work and print out that essay, due in two hours.
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Vash crouched at his door, rubbing the cloth over the brass handle vigorously. He had read about how bras handles disinfect themselves, but he was having none of this rubbish. He grunted, as if telling the door knob that it had proved itself worthy by sparkling.
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Roderich poised his fingers above the piano. The memory of first learning suddenly swooped into his mind. He recalled the small, nervous, awkward boy trying to reach the keys. He recalled the gentle teacher and his gentle ways guide Roderich to success.
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The humid air seemed like molasses as the rain poured down. Elizaveta stood by Emma, both shivering with their dresses sticking to the swimsuits beneath them. The vacation to the tropics didn't turn out quite as they had planned, with long days sun bathing and swimming, but the two women best friends were laughing loudly. The other vacationers joined in, chuckling at their bad luck.
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Erika sat on a white chair in her garden, her yellow sundress fluttering in the breeze. She examined the lily in her hands, wondering who the secret admirer was.
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Kiku itched restlessly at his thighs and buttocks, watching Alfred shrewdly. Alfred returned it with an apologetic glances. Their camping trip had turned sour when Kiku decided to do his business in the Poison Ivy bush.
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Arthur moaned in pain, his back felt as though it were on fire. Sharp pangs shot through it. He had forgotten to re-apply sunscreen after a long, hot day at the beach. Elizaveta, the only one who had thought of bringing Aloe, was gently rubbing it over his back and sighing in disappointment at him.
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Matthew started his test sniffing once or twice. When he reached the mathematics section, he had started sniffing at intervals of a few per second. He then sneezed loudly, startling the class. One girl began hiccupping. Another was staring at him with a very thankful smile. Matthew wondered what it meant.
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Arthur's eyes watered and he sputtered, begging for milk and sticking out his tongue. He would never, ever do the Ghost Pepper dare again.
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Erika tugged the brush through Natalya's hair. Natalya gripped the edge of the seat, fingering her thin house dress. Erika smiled and started to braid Natalya's hair, humming as she did so. Natalya relaxed.
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Berwald drank his coffee black in the morning. He watched the sun start to burst through the horizon, so that night drained into day and the cool chill of a new day brushed past him.
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Tino hummed happily, snuggled in his couch and bundled in blankets. He watched the fire crackle and paint the room orange. Outside, the snow was covering the ground thickly and the sky dark, the northern lights flickering then and again in their brilliant array of colors.
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Matthias trekked the mountains, smelling the lilacs and snowberries and enjoying the cool kisses of snow as he moved upwards.
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The trees, laced with sunlight, cast a cool shadow over the picnic table. It babbled with life. The picnic table was long and spotted with age. The children played by the lake, splashing each other and laughing shrilly. Others were setting the table, throwing a cloth over it, getting the ice boxes, setting the plates, and one was lighting the grill. It was a sort of summer day in which your wish for its ceaseless existence is granted. Of course, one cannot linger there until nightfall and beyond, but it will remain a warm memory in the mind even on the coldest and darkest nights.