Here's a short I did with the always lovely, Leslie Gauthier. Check her out! http://lesliebot.blogspot.com/ Her art if fantastic. Hopefully we'll do more stuff together. I had a lot of fun writing this and it's crazy seeing her bringing my story to life. Surreal, almost.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Posted by David Scheidt at 9:56 PM
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Let me tell you about me and my girl. We'd sleep, a lot. Most people would be bothered by that, 'wasting the day away' they'd call it. Most days are the same though, so I guess you could say we probably didn't miss much. Nowadays I sleep by myself, and in between that I do whatever I can to keep my mind occupied. It doesn't take much. I've lived with her a good part of my life, but it's not really much of a connection anymore. It started off great like it always does, then people change and fires burn out. It happens, that's life.
She's never met my family, and I resent her for that. I think she would understand me a lot more if she would see where I came from. She's very needy, and I think that is part of the reason why we fell so hard for each other at first. To tell you the truth I loved the attention, I always need it. I'd do ridiculous things just to get her to notice me, just to make her know I'm there. I'd act like an idiot. I always hated feeling invisible.
Years passed and we grew apart. We became more distant, and sour towards each other as each day ended. To tell you the truth, I blamed her for it. I blamed her for what happened to us.
One night, I was having dinner by myself (a can of tuna) because she decided to go out without telling me anything. Minutes turned into hours, and I began to worry. I stayed up all night, pacing back and forth waiting for her return. Eventually, I checked the clock and after 3am, I heard the door creak open. She came barreling in the doorway, swaying back and forth in a drunken waltz. I hesitated a bit, a calm before the storm then I approached her. At first she didn't notice me, then glanced over and saw me standing there.
“Come here” she said, then made a strange noise. She gestured towards me, and I walked over a bit until we were looking at each other. I didn't say much, and out of nowhere she ran her hands over the top of my head. I shook my head a bit, not wanting her to do that again. It was annoying. She did it again, then I got angry. I got angry and lost my temper and lashed out. I bit her hand and scratched it, and panicked and ran away. We both fell asleep on the floor. Let me tell you, it's not easy being a cat.
Posted by David Scheidt at 8:44 PM
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Posted by David Scheidt at 4:48 PM
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
“Summers almost gone, ya know.” he told me. “Gee, thanks for reminding me.”
“How do you feel?” I thought about it for a second. “Good, not great,” I said it like I felt it. We sat outside on the front porch. What I wanted to tell him, was that it never really felt like summer was ever here. Sure the weather was hot, and the city was full of sundresses and freeze-pops but that feeling was never there for me. I pulled out a smoke from my front pocket and fired it up. Across the street pranced two young, cute girls. Long legs and their heads and shoulders draped in yellow and brown hair. I took a drag off the cherry-lit cigarette. “Those things will kill you, ya know.” he pointed at the tip of my cigarette. I took in another deep drag and said “THOSE things will kill you” as I pointed across the street at the passing girls. He smirked a bit and we both laughed until the moon and sun switched places.
Posted by David Scheidt at 9:36 PM
Monday, August 23, 2010
"You're the kind of girl I write stories about" I told her. She sat across from me on the bus. Her eyes greenish blue like the earth. She carefully arched one eyebrow and smirked a bit. "Like me, huh?" her eyelashes fluttered.
I cleared my throat but never broke my glance. "You must say that to all the girls you meet.." she said as her eyes scanned the outside windows of the moving bus.
"Only the pretty ones." I looked over to her again. She smiled. She wore a blue sun dress that hugged her chest and hips. It blossomed down to her knees like a tulip. "So..what sort of story do I belong in?." she asked.
Our glances met again
"Hmmm” she sounded. She ran her hands threw her oak brown hair. Twisted it with her fingers. Something straight out of one of my pages.
“Let me tell you all about it..” I told her.
Posted by David Scheidt at 7:58 PM
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The wind carried a nice breeze of warm air across the courtyard. I remember it was the first day in awhile that I didn't need a jacket. People of all types walked up and down the streets, the pavement dense with the sound of sneakers sneaking and high heels clicking. Brown leaves crashed landed onto the ground and were swept up instantly by the wind. The sun warmed my face.
I sat at the bench, with bad posture and my hair blowing in the wind. I sipped on a bottle of cheap iced tea and glanced around at a set of trees that sat anchored in the ground in front of me. They sat bare and scrawny, but tall as their arms reached out to the sky, leafless and asleep.
The branches bounced up and down with the wind that carried them. Not paying much attention, I fiddled with my phone a bit. Towards the back, walked a group of workers (from the way they were dressed I assumed landscapers). Some donned in faded blue jeans, some in dirty khakis. Each wore a bright red shirt with matching company logos.
They carried various, gardening tools with them. Saws and sheers and pruners and scythes. I glanced over and made eye contact with one of them. The worker gave me a strange look back and I looked away, awkwardly.
I lost myself for a second and closed my eyes as I heard the clanking of one of the metal pruning tools. Then instantly I was shook by an abnormal piercing shriek, followed by the unmistakable, blood-curdling screech of a man. The sound painted the air with agony.
My head shot up and I saw the worker being flailed around in the air, his body gripped by the branches of the bare brown tree. The man screamed and another shriek followed as he was thrown and shaken and juggled in the air. His limbs flipped and flopped like a rag doll.
I tried to move but my limbs turned to ice. Couldn't run,couldn't yell, I could barely think. More screams filled the air as the other workers ran panicked, some toward the tree and the smart ones ran away from it.
Some of the workers screamed and yelled, carrying their tools and swung them drunkenly. One of the shorter workers, mustached and face full of rage bran-dashed a set of stainless steel sheers.
More metal clanked, and then came a snap. His neck twisted completely around as the slender branches of the tree tapped on his neck playfully. The only sound made after his neck snapping was the sound of the sheers falling onto the paved concrete.
In a blur, the ground was covered with neatly landscaped stones and lime green grass, splashed with blotches of crimson. I stood there, my knees wobbly and feet sinking into the sidewalk.
A gust of wind grabbed a hold of the notebook in my hand and 7 or 8 pieces of paper went dancing into the air.
The thumping in my chest blocked out all the sound around me, that was until I heard that shriek again.
Posted by David Scheidt at 10:27 PM