Short, Short Story
1
The circle erupted with a cloud of smoke, everyone leaned back in a hearty laugh. Five were standing and two were sitting. He was sitting on the bench with a bag at his feet accompanied by his steady of a year, on and off. She and he were the first outside, but where he goes the party is soon to follow. The two couldn’t be more comfortable, it was as if they were hosting the party. Walking around, she poured drinks, and he popped bottles, she packed cartons, and he kept the hookah lit. It was his scene and she was just having fun. Her scene consisted of farm animals, hay, and small children: she was a farm girl, and he partied. Somehow they worked, don’t ask me how because to this day, I still can’t place it. Anyway, just by watching them, how they moved around each other, how they moved with each other, they worked, and I’ve never seen either of them more natural.
He flicked the cigarette lit in his right hand, and with her left she took it from him. Paying no notice, he got up and walked to the cooler.
“‘Ey y’all! Who’s good for another round? I know none of you are driving, guys get in here, ladies?” he called to the circle. He tossed a few bottles to the other guys, and walked three over.
He reached into his pocket and pulled his bottle opener.
The beer tops hit the floor with a small noise. The group cheered triumphantly and raised their glasses. The porch door opened and closed quietly. Nobody payed much attention to the floaters, kids who went from one group to another. Bottle in one hand he looked for his cigarette. Had it been a valiant effort he would have seen his girlfriend holding it before him. Instead, he reached into his pocket for his pack and lit another. Cigarette hanging from his mouth like a greaser, bottle in hand like a frat boy, he lit the hookah again taking a few solid puffs. He inhaled deeply, his head fell back and he looked to the sky letting out a handful of smoke rings. The group cheered once more. The person had made their way into the circle, the hose was going around clockwise and the newcomer directly faced him. Several people later, when he had finally finished showing off, the stranger walked up and with a determined swing hit him in the face. It seemed their intentions were to break the front of his nose. In reality, the strangers fist made contact with the right side of his nose and just below his eye.
The group erupted, but not in laughter this time. Chaos broke out with screaming. I went after his girlfriend, whom I have known to be a little violent in the past, and pulled her out from temptation of an all out brawl. He went after the stranger, quietly. The rest just got off on all the excitement. Some kids came from inside the house and tried to provoke others.
I don’t know where he and the stranger went, but when he reemerged, his eye had bruised and his nose swollen. He walked past us, and into the house. Seconds later he came back with a bag of ice on his face. He took his seat, and continued as if nothing ever happened.
He flicked the cigarette lit in his right hand, and with her left she took it from him. Paying no notice, he got up and walked to the cooler.
“‘Ey y’all! Who’s good for another round? I know none of you are driving, guys get in here, ladies?” he called to the circle. He tossed a few bottles to the other guys, and walked three over.
He reached into his pocket and pulled his bottle opener.
The beer tops hit the floor with a small noise. The group cheered triumphantly and raised their glasses. The porch door opened and closed quietly. Nobody payed much attention to the floaters, kids who went from one group to another. Bottle in one hand he looked for his cigarette. Had it been a valiant effort he would have seen his girlfriend holding it before him. Instead, he reached into his pocket for his pack and lit another. Cigarette hanging from his mouth like a greaser, bottle in hand like a frat boy, he lit the hookah again taking a few solid puffs. He inhaled deeply, his head fell back and he looked to the sky letting out a handful of smoke rings. The group cheered once more. The person had made their way into the circle, the hose was going around clockwise and the newcomer directly faced him. Several people later, when he had finally finished showing off, the stranger walked up and with a determined swing hit him in the face. It seemed their intentions were to break the front of his nose. In reality, the strangers fist made contact with the right side of his nose and just below his eye.
The group erupted, but not in laughter this time. Chaos broke out with screaming. I went after his girlfriend, whom I have known to be a little violent in the past, and pulled her out from temptation of an all out brawl. He went after the stranger, quietly. The rest just got off on all the excitement. Some kids came from inside the house and tried to provoke others.
I don’t know where he and the stranger went, but when he reemerged, his eye had bruised and his nose swollen. He walked past us, and into the house. Seconds later he came back with a bag of ice on his face. He took his seat, and continued as if nothing ever happened.