Disclaimer- I own nothing.
In Alphabet City, New York, on the corner of Avenue B and 11th street, there sits a vacant lot, a dumpster, and a small and rather run down apartment building. It is this building which we care about. If anyone were to care to look up through the rain to the fourth floor window, they would see a young man staring dismally at the street below. It is at this juncture, with this man, where I leave you. Follow him, and his companions, as they know things that the world would do well to know, too. Things about friendship, hope, and above all, love.
Lightning
Mark looked out his window, feeling slightly sorry for himself. Roger was out with April; Benny with Allison, and Maureen, well, goodness only knows what she was up to. With a sigh, Mark shifted positions on the windowsill. Then with a fantastic flash of lightning and an enormous boom of thunder, and the power went out. Not that it makes much of a difference. Mark thought sullenly. I'm still frozen, and that lamp didn't give much light, anyway. He sat, watching a few more flashes of lightning, and thought about how spectacular they looked against the inky black sky. He looked lovingly at his old, hand crank camera, but decided that film was not properly going to capture the wonder of a storm, so he instead dug through his closet, until he came across his old photography camera. He set out in no more that a sweater, denims, and a scarf, determined to catch a flash of lightning in a photo.
Twenty-two minutes later, when he sat shivering on a bench in Central Park, Mark was beginning to have his doubts about his photo expedition. This is stupid, I'm going to get mugged, this is stupid, I'm going to get mugged… Just then he heard an a crash of thunder that made him feel as if he were right inside of the storm cloud, and he lifted his camera in hopes of taking his picture of lightning. He heard the satisfying click of his camera, but before he could attempt to get another shot, he heard earsplitting thunder, saw a brilliant flash of light, and then total darkness.
Approximately five minutes after when Mark went unconscious, a tall, broad shouldered man with warm brown skin happened upon him. He had just been walking, trying to clear his head after a long day. Looking at the filmmaker with concern, he slung him over his shoulder, walked to the nearest pay phone, and dialed for an ambulance.
"Hello, nine-one-one operator. How can I assist you?"
"I found this unconscious guy in Central Park, and he needs an ambulance. I'm currently on the East side of the Park."
"Thank you, an ambulance will be with you shortly."
The operator lady hung up and Collins sat down next to the phone booth, propping the unconscious Mark up beside him. After a while it occurred to him to search this guy for any identity, phone number, or loose change. After a few minutes Collins came across a squashed gum wrapper and an engraving found on the bottom of the camera that was hanging around the man's neck. If found please call (281)744-3989. Collins was still waiting for the ambulance, and decided that he would have time for a quick conversation with anyone else who might live at the man's address. Unfortunatley, after two rings he got the answering machine.
Hello, you've reached Benny, Roger, Mark, and Maureen! We're either out of the house or we don't want to talk to you, but either way, leave a message. We might call you back.
"Hi. I found a guy unconscious in the park, and this number was on the bottom of his camera. He's about five-two, light weight, blond hair, wearing a striped—"
"Hey, you found Mark!" A man's voice answered.
"Which would make you Roger or Benny?"
"Roger. You said Mark's knocked out, who mugged him? Cause if it's you I'm going over there to personally kill you." Roger sounded dead serious.
"Whoa man, take it easy. Your friend doesn't appear to be mugged. I've called for an ambulance and it'll be here soon, so meet me at the hospital." They both promptly hung up.
Benny, Roger, and Maureen were all worried sick when they heard about Mark. Roger handled it by being irritable and cursing a lot, Maureen by putting on her complete and utter drama queen act, and Benny by taking charge of the situation. He went into their emergency money stash, pulled out enough for a taxi, and managed to get all three to the hospital in one piece. When they reached the waiting room, they found it crowded, but stragely quiet, as if the room itself was holding it's breath in anticipation. Maureen wanted to find the rescuer of Mark, and felt that the calm was creepy so she stood on the nearest chair and announced to everyone:
"We're looking for …." She bent down and whispered into Roger's ear to ask if the man gave his name on the phone, but Roger was as clueless as she. "Well, we don't know his name, but we're looking for our friend's rescuer." She finished triumphantly. Collins waved to the group from the back corner.
"Hey, I'm Collins." He said with a smile.
"You got a first name?" asked Roger, only slightly rudely.
"Yes, Tom." At this Maureen erupted into a fit of giggles.
"You mean your name is Tom Collins, as in the drink?" Benny shoved her in the shoulder. The rest were all introduced, and despite the predicted outcome Maureen and Collins hit it off, sharing the same screw-ball sense of humor. They chatted for a while, until a nurse called them back. Even Collins, who did not really know Mark, was anxious to see if he was okay. They found him propped up in a hospital bed, looking perfectly amiable. Roger, who was not one for small talk, sat down on the foot of his bed and asked what happened.
"The doctor said I was struck by lightning." This granted a gasp from Maureen. "But on a more important note, where's my camera?!" Roger punched him playfully in the shoulder, but obliged. Once Mark had, upon careful inspection, decided that it was alright, did he inquire about Collins. The story was explained, much to Mark's interest.
"I really should be going; I've got a thesis to write." Collins said with a yawn.
"You're in grad school?" Roger asked disapprovingly.
"Yep, I'm going to become a philosophy professor and convert all of my students to anarchists on the way." Mark and Roger shared a look that said: This guy is pretty damn cool.
"Do you need a place to live?" Maureen asked, always one for spontaneity. Still, despite being random, Maureen loved this guy, and wanted another roommate.
"Well dorm rooms are getting pretty old." He thought aloud. "Especially when you're sharing one with your ex, so I accept. I'll get my stuff, and be in by Thursday."
A week later, once out of the hospital, Mark got his developed film. He located the photo that he was looking for and pulled it out with bated breath. The sky was deep black, the lightning stretching out across the sky in a dazzling jagged line, illuminating some indigo clouds. The perfect photograph.
A/N: This is the first in a long collection of short stories. This was inspired partly be a photo that I saw in science class, but it wasn't completely like the one in my story. So what did you think of the story? I'm not too good at interpreting brain waves, so push the purple button!!