Take a Straight and Stronger Course (To the Corner of your Life) (642 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kL (View user info) at 2006-05-04 01:01:20 EDT
It was a deliciously sunny day in the summer of 1995, and I sat content on a chair in my dining room. My dog lay prone in the corner, absorbing the light which held every floating fleck of his golden mane in its beam. Everything was idyllic. My father and I began to play a game of chess. Although the set was cheap, and made for checkers as well, it seemed great to me. Even at that young age I appreciated the perfect equality that a chessboard possessed: A master is still a master whether playing with priceless ivory or discounted Fisher-Price.
Anyways, I had mastered the movement of each piece, and was excited to play; completely confident that my dad's experience would be nothing compared to my raw and intuitive genius. I chose to be white and led of quickly. My dad would take such a long time for each move, it was painful. God, I wanted to get that Queen out, she could move in all directions! Oblivious to my opponent's carefully executed moves, I hastily put my Pawns in their places and made way for my Big Gun, my Behemoth, to get free.
At this point, when victory seemed to be imminent, my mom walked in. She beamed at the sight of her son playing chess with his father, and plopped down beside me a photo. It was framed in brown paper, and read at the bottom "YMCA T-Ball - 1995" Taking a brief respite from the game, I scanned the photo. I eventually found the image of myself, sulkily lurking in the bottom right corner. I wore a grotesque face; red, chapped lips locked together, while my hands whitely clenched between my knees. In addition to other horrors, it was obvious that I had been in need of a bathroom during the photo, and had hidden my desire with no success.
At my father's bidding, I made an absent-minded move with my Bishop and then went back to staring at the photo. All the other kids seemed to beam with limitless possibilities and happy childhoods, while I merely looked to possess the surliness of scrooge. I was baffled. I was a golden boy, wasn't I?
Suddenly, I was in check. With a look of smug satisfaction mixed with paternal playfulness, my father had pronged my King and Queen with his Knight. How could this be? My only option seemed to be to move the King out of harm's way... but then my Queen would be lost. I dejectedly slid the King one space sideways. I was sad that I hadn't seen it all coming. I knew that it was possible. I had watched "Finding Bobby Fischer" earlier that summer. He could see it all coming, so why couldn't I?
I needed to clear my head with a drink. Thankfully, there was a coloured fruit drink right in front of me on the table. But as I lifted the strawberry Kool-Aid cup to my lips, I became painfully aware of just how large the cup was. I was forced to use two hands to drink. And I knew that it was making my lips and tongue awfully red.
The game continued. It felt pointless as all the lines of attack which were so clear to me before had become foggy; because of the loss of my Queen, I guess. For some reason, I was biting back tears. I knew that the tears were stupid, and would only be construed as the sign of a poor loser and a weak child, but I couldn't help it. My lips pursed involuntarily, and I knew that I utterly was the dumb-looking boy from the photo.
My dad seemed a bit ruffled, but I guess chose to ignore me as my tears hadn't burst yet. But, as my face grew more and more forlorn, he ventured, "Cale, is something wrong." I had no good answer to this, and broke into tears.
He reached over to rescue me with a loving, yet wholly ignorant hug, the kind of which parents are notorious for. I usually would have accepted this, and at the slightest feel of ridiculous chest hair and laughable baldness, laughed at this attempt to console me. Today though, I took off running through the sliding doors of the dining room towards the stairs leading to my bedroom.
I made a sharp turn in my main hallway and in mid sprint, stubbed my toe viciously on a hardcover corner of Goethe's Faust. I kicked it viciously, but it hardly moved, and then I continued, pounding up the stairs.
I reached my room and slammed the door behind me. I turned off the lights but the effect was ruined by the open windows. Still wet from the tears, I pulled down my cheerful Ikea blinds and tethered them down. I threw myself into my bed covers and let my heart pound in the silence of my black room. After several moments, I turned over to gaze at my ceiling.
Covered by scores of stick-on stars, my ceiling was a sight to behold in the darkness. I had almost completely calmed down when, to the right of my ceiling fan, a star looked misshapen. It was drooping off the wall, losing its youthful stick. Something, somewhere inside me was affected by this. Once again my heart rate quickened. I realized that the star that once was perfect was now flawed. And this finally made me bury myself in my pillow with despair. Although I didn't know why then, I cried myself to sleep with a perfect conviction of deficiency.
User Reviews
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-08 18:44:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Fuck yes, lukewarm is exactly what I thought when I re-read it too.
But at least it semi-possesses a beginning, middle, and end. That makes it better than 90 percent of the shit that I've written.
Submitted by hot_pocket (user info) at 2007-01-07 13:03:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
this was rather lukewarm
good tho not as involved as i was hoping itd get to be
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2007-01-07 12:42:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Here, have another.
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2007-01-07 12:41:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-12-21 06:34:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
re-reading this, the movie is called "Searching for Bobby Fischer"
I'm 8<
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-05-06 23:45:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hmm, I handed it in for a school project. The objective was to look back on a childhood event from an older perspective. I think it'll be fine for that, even if it isn't up to GODSAUCE UBERSITE STANDARDS.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-05-06 03:44:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
look, if you stuck with some imagery from any other YES songs I'd have liked it better.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-05-06 03:22:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Forgot the cowbell.
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2006-05-05 19:13:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
kinda reminds me of Salinger, prepubescent focus
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2006-05-05 19:11:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
needs more cowbell.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-05-05 18:51:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Rate my post, GOD.
Submitted by GREEEN (user info) at 2006-05-05 02:51:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
liked it.
Submitted by BrownEyedGirrl (user info) at 2006-05-04 15:33:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
skipped to the end...
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-05-04 14:40:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this.
A lot.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-05-04 10:50:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah pretty much the responses that I expected: Lukewarm.
Thanks for reading.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-05-04 10:33:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Ok.
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2006-05-04 05:13:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow, cool
this part was funny
"I... stubbed my toe viciously on a hardcover corner of Goethe's Faust. I kicked it viciously, but it hardly moved"
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-05-04 04:09:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
make the white queen run so fast she hasnt got the time to make you a wife.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2006-05-04 03:53:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Not a lot of people are up tonight.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-04 01:21:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Wildman (user info) at 2006-05-04 01:16:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Needs more Norman Rockwell.