Below This Song, Part IV


Leo swayed as he moved along the sidewalk. The streets were now bare. Only a few street lamps gleamed in the sky. He stopped and leaned against the side of a building, trying to catch his breath. “Okay…I think I’m done…” A sense of relief started to come over him, a sense of tension dissipating like steam.

“There you are.” A hand fell onto Leo’s shoulder, and a cold wave cascaded over him. “You know, you shouldn’t run off like that. Come on. Let’s go back to the creepy, dark alleyway. Come on. Don’t make this any harder than it needs–”

“Excuse me. Just what do you two think you’re doing?” The police officer approached the two men.

Charles answered with a smile. “Why, hello offi–”

“IDs. Come on.”

Charles stared at the policeman for a moment then sighed. He pulled out his wallet and handed him his ID card.

“You two realize it’s past curfew, correct?” The officer said, his eyes scanning the ID.

“Yes. Of course. It’s just that, this man here, he is in a lot of debt. And I’m working on behalf of the debtor to intimidate him.”

The officer stared up at Charles who simply smiled back. The officer then handed him back the ID. “Well, sorry to interrupt. Carry on.”

“Thank you sir.”

The police officer hopped back on his bicycle and rode off.

“Man, I’m getting a little tired of all these interruptions, aren’t you?”

Leo didn’t answer.

“You know what? I’m a little tired today. I think I’m going to head back home. But you get the idea, right? You owe Zepo Industries a lot of money and–”


“Yes, Leo. Zepo. Now–very rude, Leo–as I was saying–”

“I don’t owe them any more. I’ve paid off their loan.”

Charles shot him a look. “Leo…just pay them the money.”

“But I paid-off their loan the other week. No, I owe Birdhouse Inc. still…”

“Really?” Leo scratched his chin. “Huh. Well, I’m going to have to tell my boss that. How come you didn’t say anything sooner?”

Leo’s eyes drifted down to his feet. It felt like he was going to topple over onto the cement.

“Well, our company has a contract with Birdhouse so I imagine I’ll be seeing you again shortly. Anyway, goodnight Leo. Get some rest. I hear it’s good for you.”

Leo nodded and Charles walked away. Leo became the lone shadow underneath the streetlamps.

I’m not sure whether or not to continue with this series. I just started it on a whim. Meh. This part was written with a 12-minute and 15-second time limit.

Below This Song, Part III

Fighting Back…

“I…” But Leo coughed as he squirmed on the ground. 

“I’m sorry, what was that? You know, it’s awfully rude to mumble.”

Leo slowly started to get back up, but his legs shook. “I think I liked it better back in the park…”

“What? You don’t like getting slammed around in a dirty, dank alleyway?”

“Just a bit cliche is all.”

“I see.” And with that another fist, this time to Leo’s face. He stumbled backward, landing on top of some garbage bags.

“Hey!” A voice called out. Charles turned. It was a homeless man chewing the soggy remains of some cardboard. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles said. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he pointed in Leo’s direction. “That’s my home!”

“Oh!” Charles said. “Well, my friend is sorry about that, aren’t you, Leo?” But Leo just responded with a limply wave. “We’ve been trying to work on his manners. Say, why don’t you, um, get the fuck out of here? At least until we’re done. Alright? Shouldn’t be too long.”

The homeless man stared up at Charles who was a largy, bulky gentleman. The homeless man spat on Charles’ shoe. Charles’s eyes twisted down slowly, watched as the white saliva crawled across his shoe, and dissolved underneath the weight of rain. 

“Ok.” Charles said with a glare. “Stay here. I will get to you once I–” He turned, but Leo was gone. 

Another great, fun-filled installment. This time I gave myself the completely arbitrary time limit of 7 minutes and 38 seconds of nonstop writing.

Below This Song, Part II


“Hey! Watch it!”

“Sorry! Excuse me!” Leo struggled through the herds of people, unfazed by the gunshots ringing behind. His heart rattled, blood pulsed his wrists. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this for.

Suddenly, Leo jumped into the street. Didn’t know why he did this. Lights flashed in his eyes. He leapt, landing face-first onto the asphalt, the car flying past his. Leo scrambled back up and stumbled to the other side.

The chase went on for quite a while. Leo weaved through crowds, sprinting across streets. Eventually, he got tired. As he stumbled through the park and collapsed onto a bench. “God…I’m done…I’m done…I don’t care if he kills me…” He turned over on his back. The rain slicing at his face.

Soon, a figure stood over him. “Hello Leo, how are you today?”

Leo was still trying to catch his breath.

“Tired? Imagine how I feel. Running after goons like you all day. Tell me: why do y’all have to run, every time?”

“I don’t know,” Leo said. “I guess it’s just in our nature.”

“Heh. Wish I could believe that. But we both know that’s not true. Say, want to get out of the rain?”

“Does it matter? We’re already wet.”

“Fine…” Moments later, he felt a fist slam against his stomach. Leo tumbled over in the alleyway.

“It would be great if, for once, you fought back.”

Below This Song, Part I

Stone’s Throw

Leo ran across the street, rain cutting his eyes. But, as he got to the other side, he slipped and let out a pathetic yelp.

“Hey!” He looked up and saw a homeless man standing over him, chewing on some cardboard. “Watch where you going. And don’t cry. Makes you look like an Irkling.” Leo swiftly pulled himself, looked behind him at the dark alleyway where he emerged. Maybe he had lost him.


Nope. Leo ducked and pushed past the homeless man, rushed through the throngs of people on the concrete, shoving past bodies. “Hey! That’s not nice!”

“Sorry!” Leo needed some place to hide. Some place to escape. His eyes darted back and something cold slithered across his chest. He saw the pale face, staring like stone, piercing through the crowds of people, towards him.

Oh boy. What is this? Another dumb series? Perhaps, if I decide to continue. What’s it going to be about? Well, I have no clue. Maybe it will turn into some terrible neo-noir, or a sci-fi adventure, or another lousy attempt at comedy. We will just have to see. And, like always, I gave myself a time limit writing this. 3 minutes and 47 seconds, for no good reason. Maybe next time I will give myself more time. We’ll see.