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53 pages

English

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Description

This is a collection of short fiction based upon the everyday life of individuals just like everyone else. These individuals' actions, interactions, their dialogue, and their daily proceedings are viewed through the lense of a bright and glowing hue.

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Publié par	Jonathan Colon
Date de parution	21 février 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780692845318
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Copyright Notice
This copyright notice is to state that Jonathan Colon is the sole creator of this work and the uncontestable copyright claimant. ©Jo nathan Colon.2016.All rights reserved.

The Champ And Other Short Stories
By Jonathan Colón

Table of Contents

Charles’ Three Day Weekend
The Champ
Nirvana Achieved
Farewells In Smiles
June 24 th
Burdens Of Mine
The Trident Movement
The Delicacy
Times Of A Couple
Cars Passing By

( Enter )

Charles’ Three Day Weekend

Prologue
This story is about a man who lived in cloudy weather, but felt the warmth of the sun behind it. Charles kept a journal; what proceeds contains excerpts from this journal.

It was the Thursday before the three day weekend where Charles worked. He soon got home. There, he sat down to rest from the day’s work. He proceeded to read the newspaper with coffee he had bought on the way home. Although Charles many times felt pained with mild torment; he, proceeded forward and never let it get the best of him. It was late summertime and the city where Charles lived in was bursting with activity. Charles didn’t have any children; therefore, he would adventurously look for things that would bring delight to his life alone. Amidst difficulty Charles never lamented, this is not to say such things were not heavy upon him. With almost bravado he would continue forward.
Charles wrote:
Dear journal,
You very well know that I am a hard worker who doesn’t complain. I have written this before. Things in spite of their glimmer seem bleak. Although, an extra day’s rest wouldn’t hurt.
It was now night and Charles fell asleep with a promising good feeling. It was about his three day weekend to come. It was now Friday morning. Charles had woken up peculiarly refreshed that morning.
Charles was later to write:
I felt like I could take on the world. The beauty of my surroundings could only be surpassed by the feeling that I was in a good place. I walked by, and even a fellow my age with what seemed to be his grandson gave me a slight wave. The temperature of the city seemed to perfectly compliment the notions I was having. A clear bustle of activity was somehow evident as I walked through the streets. I must say, there was even a visiting sense of love and wonder.
Charles had proceeded with his day. Charles could not hide a smile as he walked towards the coffee lounge.
Charles had written about his short time at the coffee lounge:
I sat there drinking on a dark cappuccino. I was at ease. Everything seemed melodious and the cappuccino was not so bad either. Whip cream on top are you kidding me? As I exited out the coffee place I was greeted by a crisp wind that had been traveling amongst the day’s warmth. It was a little revitalizing. It certainly made me fasten my pace to the local park where I had planned to sit down and bask in the serenity.
At the park Charles had the chance to reflect. In his time of reflection, he encountered th e seismic thought which was: t his lovely life beautified by the proceedings of those whom live it, has been being lived this whole time.
Charles had written about this:
These things were undeniable. As my heart kept beating so did the beauty; warm, and bursting of all things. I had come to discover a deep down feeling that we all cared for each other at least in a minimal form. Somehow, this was as evident as a cheering crowd for their sports team.
Charles continued with his day. It was now getting dark. The Friday night was vibrant with possibilities and bountiful opportunities. Charles had gone to a bar. The gentlemen next to him were in a rather festive mood. One of them had exclaimed to his friend, “The night is young!” He turned around to ask Charles, “Don’t you agree?” Charles responding, “Yes indeed.” Charles was slightly intoxicated. When he made his way outside the bar he had looked up to the dark sky and saw a small and very fast meteor shower. He soon made it to his car. Throughout his drive home he sang along to the music he had listened to as a youth. Charles sang away.
That night he wrote in his journal:
All throughout this day I walked with glee: with a determination to live; to enjoy things. It was the equivalent to a first kiss leaving one feeling the promising of more. It was almost a laughing matter. Yes, a cause for celebration.
After finishing writing in his journal he quickly felt both exhausted and triumphant. Lo and behold; the feeling of an even better day awaiting was there present, as Charles soon went to sleep.
It was now Saturday morning. Charles arose from his slumber wanting to take on the day. He felt the teasing feeling of romance. He felt like taking on the day; and being successful at doing so. The occurrences of the day remained as they slowly lingered away. Yet, for that moment it was substantially felt. Charles had given a rose to a woman from work. She accepted his courtship.
Charles wrote about her:
She is an educated, professional woman, held in high regard not just for her looks. It was in the afternoon we met together; where, I gave her the rose. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was blushingly smiling.

Epilogue
Charles continued to conquer the days to come. It was s omething he always wanted to have. It was why he continued to breathe, to be able to live, and not frown at everybody. It was somet hing he always wanted to have: a three day weekend.

The Champ
(Urban Literature)

Prologue
There are some, whom in the midst of adversity crumble. Yet, there are those that even in the midst of utter chaos triumph. This story is of a man named "Heavy". He is one of those people that never quit. Before a hab itat that only knows one rule: survival of the fittest; he triumphed. Heavy was a man very worthy of respect.

Chapter One
Henry was later to be called “Heavy”, his street name. He acquired his street name at the age of fifteen. One day in his first year of high school he had rode the school bus home, just like any other day. He was thinking of homework the whole way back to his neighborhood in the ghetto. The school bus had stopped at his stop. Many times he would think of how much pain it was to live in poverty, but he did not despise growing up in his neighborhood. Quite the contrary, he loved his neighborhood, the people in it, the sights, the sounds, those times when he was made smile. He liked smoking marijuana with his friends. They had been friends for a long time. It was this particular day; after school, that his friends asked him if he wanted to join one of the major gangs of the city. He had replied, “You know I’m down”. He was to get jumped in which consisted of several gang members punching and kicking the “newbie” for about thirty seconds.
It was in the evening after school that they all met up at the park. Henry was ready to fight back which was allowed. All three of his friends were there to jump him in along with two older gangsters whom were there to observe . The initiation had begun. Henry’s friends had all gone through the same process. He knew it would be him next. He swung back. He fought courageously; as if a heavyweight in a title fight . Thus, after the thirty seconds were through he was given the street name “Heavy”. In spite of being thrown to the ground in the fierce barrage of punches being kicked as he was on the floor, the thirty seconds were finally over and he was greeted approvingly by the older members, the gang itself, and his friends. He was now one of them : a 49 th Street H ustler. Him and his friends celebrated -later on that night- at his friend’s house with liquor. There was laughter, clinking of beer bottles and the talk of girls. It was if they were all finally on the same level. Drunk, he had walked back home now a 49 th Street Hustler.

Chapter Two
The 49 th Street Hustlers were notorious for being the baddest most paid gangsters throughout the city Heavy lived in. Throughout all the 49 th ’s history: they beat down, murdered, and robbed any person deemed weak to their eyes. It was the way of the ghetto it was the way of the 49 th to show no mercy. To them , they saw anybody outside the gang as prey. Yet those within the gang were held in high esteem. Drugs, their usage, and their being sold were iconic to the Hustlers. So was murder. It was around forty years ago that the 49 th Street Hustlers was formed. It was an agreement between three gangsters whom were friends that marked the beginning of the gang. One was a murderer, one was a drug addict, and the other was a man all about making money. They all agreed to utilize each others’ strengths for their benefit. This occurred on the corner of 49 th Street and Gibson ; at night, in the very city Heavy and his friends lived in. Throughout the years the Hustlers grew in numbers and became a force to be reckoned with.