Marcus Lopes's Blog, page 34
June 22, 2018
Against His Will: Immersion
Jonas, his gaze fixed on his phone, took a step forward when the line moved. He couldn’t shake the heaviness in his head, as if he’d been up all night drinking. He hadn’t. It was something worse than that. He had the dream again, waking up to soaked bedsheets, and his chest and back covered in sweat. By the time he cooled off and changed the bed, he was wide awake. That was at two thirty. Then he couldn’t get back to sleep. He drifted off at some point, and the next thing he heard was his ala...
June 17, 2018
Little Black Book
I have a little black book. Since 1 July 2015, I’ve used it to track my workouts and weight. I can see the progress I’m making to improve my strength and endurance, and to (more recently) lose weight. Until yesterday, when I ran 21k, the last time I ran more than 15k was on 11 May. Shortly after that date, my hip started to bother me and I, involuntarily, reduced my running to heal. Taking the time to rest doesn’t come naturally to me. I like to be on the go, doing whatever I can to move my w...
June 15, 2018
Against His Will
It began. In a moment. Without warning. Seated at the corner table at 217 Elgin Street, the café where he wrote before work each morning. Amid the grinding of coffee beans, the clinking of cutlery, the conversations colliding in the air … when no one was looking.
The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made Jonas Martin look up from his black hardcover notebook. Before him sat a man with smooth olive skin, close-cropped brown hair speckled with grey and eyes that burned with purpose. T...
June 7, 2018
The Visit: The Complete Story
Trevor, seated on the living room sofa reading, looked up from his book when the doorbell sounded. His wide camel-brown eyes sidled the clock on the mantelpiece. Twelve minutes past eleven on Saturday morning and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He kept reading until he heard the thunder of feet barreling down the staircase and shifted his focus to the front hall.
“Oh, how marvellous,” the nasal voice said. “You’re home.”
Trevor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Oh, dear Lord … not today,...
Picking Up the Pieces
I’ve been fighting a cold for the past week. It’s persistent. It doesn’t want to go away. The cough. The runny and congested nose. The pounding head. Waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat. Yuck, yuck, yuck. I try to soldier on — acting like I’m healthy and invincible. I zip about like the Road Runner. Not this time. This cold has me beat and has brought my entire world to a halt. Now I’m picking up the pieces.
This time around, I decided to let myself rest. It’s the most awkwa...
June 1, 2018
Façade
“Who are you?” Ryan asked with an edge.
“I’m Toby,” the olive-skinned man said, holding out his hand.
Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. “And how did you say you knew Mitch?”
“He was…” Toby clasped his hands behind his back. “We were friends.”
“He never mentioned you.” Ryan, drawing in a deep breath, tried to tamp down the frustration rumbling in his contralto voice.
“No, he wouldn’t,” Toby said quickly. “That would have complicated things.”
Ryan bristled. “It would have complicated what?”...
May 24, 2018
Never Be the Same Again
This was it. The moment he’d been preparing for his entire life. The end of introspection and self-flagellation. Yet it felt … surreal. He still didn’t believe it was happening, despite the evidence around him. The boxes stacked around the room. The walls stripped bare, dotted with holes where the IKEA print of New York taxi cabs, and framed photos of Toni Morrison and his other celebrity friends used to hang.
He remembered every moment that had played out here. He remembered the laughter. He...
May 23, 2018
What I Love About Life
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m still hoping to go. That’s because 2018 started out (for me) at such a low point. I was doubting everything — who I thought I was, my talent as a writer, my worth. Maybe it was some sort of midlife crisis … I don’t know. But slowly, day by day, things got better. Now, I can’t stop thinking about what I love about life.
What I love about life is that each morning, by my own thoughts, I can decide if I’m going to b...
May 17, 2018
Broken
“I don’t know why I came,” Ian said, glancing at his watch. “It’s been a goddamn waste of time.”
“Will you mind your language,” Karen said through gritted teeth. “You’re in church, not on Third Street turning a trick.”
Ian’s eyes went wide. “That was uncalled for. I haven’t turned a trick in years. And for the record, we’re in the refectory.”
Karen’s mouth dropped open.
“God, you’re gullible.” Ian rolled his eyes.
“You know…” Karen pursed her lips, but that couldn’t stifle her groan. She lock...
May 10, 2018
Don’t Be the Same Fool Twice
Dean opened the door and staggered backwards. “What … are you … doing here?”
“May I come in?” Kevin asked and, when there was no response, ran his hand over his mouth. “Dean, I —”
“Go away, Kevin.” Dean went to close the door, but there was resistance. His gaze landed on Kevin’s large white hand holding the door open. He raised his head slowly until their eyes locked, his heart pounding. Don’t be the same fool twice.
“Please, Dean…” Kevin’s voice dropped low, like a petty thief who’d finally...
