Exercise. One thing you desired; emotions, feelings, thoughts.
Start Fiction:
We didn't have much of anything growing up, but mom and dad made every effort to get us what they could come Christmas time. Sure they worked a lot and to me and my siblings, that's just the way it was.
Living in a trailer park, driving extra used vehicles, wearing second hand clothes from cousins, eating creative meals, we knew there wasn't much to go around, no matter how much our parents worked.
However, it wasn't as though we didn't ask for things or dream about toys in the latest Sears catalogue, we were kids! For me, it was always something related to Star Wars; something that never came as a surprise. And while I was always on the hunt for the latest toys, I knew what my options were due to their dollar value.
One Christmas I dreamt big, over my "budget". They had come out with the Millenium Falcon several months before and it grabbed my attention, pulled at my imagination like none of the other Star Wars figures, play sets or ships had done before.
It was huge, could fit at least a dozen figures, had hidden compartments, landing gear and the chess board on which R2-D2 beats Chewbacca. Having so much other Star Wars stuff, this would become the "mother ship" of my collection. But it was expensive at the time and we already lived in a cramped, crowded trailer. It was not looking good for me to get, and while it ate at me, generated dreams about playing with it, I was torn to even ask for it.
Thanksgiving came and to our surprise, our aunt and uncle had arranged for an early visit from Santa at their house. This was it, I thought. Who else would understand my plight better than Santa? I was a good kid, never in any real trouble and was only asking for one thing: The Mellenium Falcon.
I hadn't believed in Santa for a couple of years at that point, but I was willing to take a leap of faith. My turn came around and I sat on Santa's lap and told him what I wanted. He had never heard of it, couldn't even pronounce the name! I was mortified, crushed. My one window of hope was dashed in seconds. However, no hope was coming from the imaginary fat guy; he was dead to me.
I looked to my parents, my aunts and uncles and they all laughed. They asked each other what I was taking about; no one was really sure. Santa patted me on the back and I slouched away and went in to the toy room. I just wanted to be alone.
I tried not to think about what had happened that night, but I was only nine years old. I lost sleep trying to figure out how not only did none of the adults know what I was talking about, but Santa didn't know? That's his freaking job! Maybe there was a reason not to believe in Santa.
By mid-December, I was doing better. I was sleeping better and began to enjoy the Star Wars toys I had more, thinking up new missions and adventures. I hadn't forgotten about the Millenium Falcon, but I was trying hard not to take everything I had for granted, a lesson taught hard and often by my parents.
Come Christmas morning I had lost my potential disappointment, looked forward to any and all new Star Wars toys and was able to fully capture the spirit of the season. I mean, shit, it's Christmas!
Upon rushing in to the living room, I stopped cold. There under the tree, with Monte written on the box, was the Millenium Falcon.
My parents had pulled a fast one on me, but I didn't care. I had, and still have, the Millenium Falcon.
End Fiction.
Unreliable 1st person exercise.
Start Fiction:
I sat down and set my soda on the table. "Here's the story, Jonna. I was there, and can tell you, there was no way Herb could have slapped Allison."
Jonna looked at me and I could tell she wasn't going to believe a word out of my mouth. She leaned back, crossing her arms. I think she was fighting to tell me to go fuck myself, but I had Herb's back.
"First of all, he's a big pussy and if he were to get in to a fight he'd curl up in the fetal position," I told her. "I've seen it happen." Jonna rolled her eyes, her foot began to tap.
"Second, he wasn't even there! Herb was at the movies with Gina."
"What?" she said.
"Yes, I said it, Herb was steppin' out on Allison." I took a drink to let it soak in; Jonna was speechless. Ha, I got her right where I want her. I decided to keep pushing her. "Did Allison know that? Maybe, and maybe that is why she made up this story about being slapped by Herb."
It was all too easy. She was eating it up. There is nothing like coming between two girlfriends, messing with their minds, just because you can, and sometimes it was necessary.
Was it true about Gina? Sure, why not. He was there, she was there. Was he stepping out? Truth is in the eye of the beholder, and I'm the holder!
"You are so full of shit," Jonna said. "He wouldn't do that."
"So he'd slap a bitch but not step out?" I said. "Seems to me of you did one, the other is not out of the question." I laughed at her, she was now totally confused. "So if he wouldn't step out, what makes you so sure he'd slap her?"
Jonna rubbed her eyes and shook her head. She stood up and let out a grunting sigh. She was frustrated; objective achieved.
I stood up and put my hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you to your thoughts," I said and walked off, sipping my drink chuckling to myself.
It's all too easy some days, all too easy.
End Fiction.
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