Saturday, January 08, 2005

A Short Story

Again while taking a shower, I was perusing over some things, and I remembered an event from my childhood, which I thought might make a good short story. And so, dear readers, here it is! When I was about maybe 14 years old, and my brother was 11, we were visiting our relatives in Raton, NM. One evening, all of us boys, me, my brother, and our younger cousin John, who was about 8 at the time, were all preparing for bed in the living room, each in our own sleeping bags (we were semi-"camping-out"). We layed there discussing some of our favorite movies, with cousin John performing word by word some of the scenes from several of these movies, until it was time for lights out. As we lay there in the dark, the discussion began to slowly drift away. However, out of the silence, John began to blurt out some of his favorite scenes from "Rocky". We'd be drifting off into unconsciousness, and then, suddenly, "You'll never make it Rock! He'll knock you into next week!" would come out of the mouth of my 8 year old cousin, done in the voice of the curmudgeonly old coach from "Rocky". We'd all giggle uncontrollably over the ridiculousness of this, and then fall back toward drifiting off. John, in his perfect timing, would wait until he thought that we had fallen asleep, and then from out of nowhere would come up with, "Yo, Adrian, I love you Adrian!, Adrian!, whereupon me, my brother, and John would burst into laughter in the dark of the night. I'm sure we were told to shut up and go to sleep by the parents, which of course only heightened the tension between the next time, when John's disembodied voice would whisper out, "Rock, don't do it! He'll moidah yuh! Yuh can't win Rock, yuh can't win!" Now, we were dying from laughter, and trying to bottle it up all at once. Somehow, we all finally drifted off into sleep, tired from all of the laughter of young boys laughing at all of the preposterousness of an 8 year old, seemingly "little old man", quoting ceaslessly from a favorite movie in the dead of the night. To this very day, I laugh again when I think about that happy, absurd, evening.


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