Thanks for the Memories

Ella sat in her car wondering what to do next. She really had no where to go, no one to see, nothing to do. She picked up her keys and put them in the ignition. She slammed the gas pedal and speeded down the highway. Her car needed cleaning, so did her clothes. In fact her whole life needed cleaning. She glanced around her car taking note of each object representing each of the painful memories that shaped her life. Then her eyes landed on it. It. The thing that had sent her life spiraling downward. The feeder. Oh how she hated it. Then without warning the memories came flooding back.

It was four years ago. She yanked the feeder from its hanger and sped off in her nice bmw. She glanced at her rearview window and saw a single tear in hr grandfather's eye. She drove faster. When she got to her house there was a messag. Her grandfather had died. Commited suicide. She thought it was no real loss he was going to die soon anyway. Then her parents came home.

No, she won't o down that lane. She parked the car in front of a denny's and lit a cigarette. She was alone except for another guy. He was dressed oddly, even for Hollywood. He sauntered over asking for a light. She gave him one and hoped he would then leave. Instead the guy introduced himself. He said his name was Shaw or something like that. Ella looked at him and told him her name. Shaw didn't respond. When she was done with her cigarette she hopped back into her car. Shaw followed and sat in the passenger seat. "I know something's wrong" he said, "And I am here to help."

Isn't Jackson Puuurty?

Thought I'd try and throw you guys off a bit...Now someone has to create a new character! Bwahahahahaaha!!!! I challenge to try and incorporate Mr. Jackson Pollis (the actually not that attractive but still really awesome drummer of the indie band Frankpollis-- obviously he doesn't have to be Jackson, but I thought it'd fun since he's really...uh...unique looking) into your post! Oh, and go listen to their stuff in MySpace, it's actually pretty good, unlike a lot of MySpace bands... Sorry this is sooo long, but I misses you guys and this induces random bouts of rambling...

Ella

Ella looked up at the bird feeder, her brown eyes sharp. It was empty, bereft of both fowl and theiving squirrel. In many ways, it was like Ella. In it's time it was once a thriving little cafe for birds, but now it was naught bu t a desolate blight on the porch. Much like Ella had once been happy, but now only seemed to be burden upon her family.

"Ah, the feeder," wheezed her grandfather from behind. "I remember you used to love that thing when you were a little girl." Ella was startled. Wasn't Grandpa supposed to be back home? He never came to this house anymore not since...

"You know, when you grandmother died the birds stopped coming. It was a sad day. You stayed out here for hours into the night, waiting for the birds to come back."

Ella narrowed her eyes, refusing to let the old man soften her with his words.

"Yeah, well it's a piece of junk now." She pushed it, watching it swing.

Her grandfather sighed, hobbling back into the house. He'd been different since that friend of his had died. Ella wondered why. Grandpa had through so many phases it was hard to count. Before grandma died he was always happy, if a bit strict. When Ella turned eleven, Grandma passed and her grandfather became cold and callous. Now, after the death of what Ella guessed must've been a dear friend, Granpa was suddenly spouting off cryptic sayings and such.

It pissed her off. A lot.

Ella stole one last angry glance at the bird feeder before ripping down and running to her car. She threw it in, not caring it the seed got everywhere.

Even today, Ella could never say why she stole the feeder. But she likes to think it was the beginning of something better.

{The old man thing had me baffled and I didn't know how I was going to continue the story...So, I pulled a Ficlet and added another character! If it's too long, let me know!}

The Feeders

Confusion

He sat on the beach, thinking of the time he spent thinking of his "Best friend." He had often mixed up the fact that his friend was naught but a toy, a bauble to remind him of his past, the one thing that had always been with him. In his mind's eye, he could see himself sitting on a train to nowhere, alone in his problems and desperation. He sat there, weeping his heart out for himself, to involved with himself to notice the world passing by, so immersed with himself to know that there was someone out there for him, who could help him with his struggles. He sat on the beach, crying for himself and his lost "friend." That was when, after realizing this, he decided that he had had enough, he would set out to find the one for him, the companion he truly needed.

Ten Days Later

The day after the funeral, the old man went to the only place he knew... the only place he could feel safe. He went to the sea. The sea shore... the beach, if you will. But if you live anywhere near where I live, it's not the kind of beach you're used to. Not the crowded, full of tourists, have-to-pay-to-get-in beaches. It's more like a small, hidden bank; with ice-cold water and rocky sand. There were trees all around, with flowers that only bloomed for one week out of the year. And in all of Mother Nature's irony, she had chosen this week.

He supposed it must have been beautiful. When he was younger, happier, he would come down here almost every day at dusk. He would take photos, or just sit and watch the sea. He was just out of college, and so eager to go out into the world. Now he was older, and less happy. He had less energy, he was less eager now. He shyed away from the world, now that he had seen what it could do. Once he had experienced it. All the sadness, the death, the hopelessness.

He came here with his friend once, the one that had died, when they were younger. He looked down, away from the sea when he remembered that. And a tear slid down his cheek. Because even old men can cry.

The fine line

He had a big day ahead of him. The shareholders meeting was one of the biggest of the year. And this year he was heading it. This was a huge difference from ten years ago. Ten years ago, he was a lowly factory worker who couldn't keep a house. Now he was the plant's General Manager. If the meting goes well he could be the company's vice president. As he did some last minute primping in the hallway mirror he saw a speck of green in the next room. He walked into the living room and saw his worst nightmare. His best friend, his one link to sanity was lying ont the floor dead. He collapsed sobbing. He had been on the floor for more than an hour when he got a phone call. It was the company's president, he yelled into the reciever saying that he was fired and to never show his face at the factory again. He didn't care, life was meaningless without his best friend

Picture #2

Shutter Button Speak

If there was anything that this man could love, it was this one duck. This one duck that sat on his counter. It never left him, like so many other things had. It was his reminder that he wasn't hated by the world. The animal was almost his security blanket.

No, he wasn't crazy for believing an object could bring comfort. Because every morning he would look into it's eyes and remember that time when everything was not screwed up. When he had something going for him.

Today, he went downstairs and when he looked at it, he remembered when all he knew was his camera. When he had won the duck at that photography contest. It was last place, but something nonetheless. He smiled, and went to the basement and grabbed his old Nikon. It was here when he thought he could make the shutter button speak.