Personal Narrative: Fixing The Air Conditioning

I’m late. The Starbucks line was long and the coffee stain is still splattered on my black skirt. I check my calendar, September 11. The city’s smog is killing me. If it wasn’t for this meeting, I’d be at my allergist getting new medication to deal with it. I take another sip of my coffee. The heat and the splash of mint I had them add, helps open up my sinuses.

“Mom, come on!” I yell while I’m already rushing to the car. Soon enough, she comes out the garage and sits in front of me in the driver’s seat. I listen excitedly as her keys jingle and feel so much relief as the air vents come on, putting me out of my misery in the the dry, 95 degree heat. The radio plays in the background while I look out the window at the scenery I see everyday on my way to school.

I feel my heart boom in my ears screaming at me to go home and never come back, but I can’t because the Oakwood door is already staring at me in my face. I wonder how many times I’ll shut my mouth just so I don’t have to be told to shut it. I feel the air conditioning on my skin as I sit in my seat to unload my belongings. After putting my things on my desk, I heard a loud thump and saw scattered paper all over the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that, maybe you shouldn’t always be in everyone’s way,” hissed Mister to Cool for School, “or maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

I suffered a case of mild hypothermia awhile back, and while it's something my roommate teases me about now, it wasn't funny at the time.

Soon enough, Adam is back to work at the town's business factory. While he is at work I realize I can’t just sit around waiting for him to get home and start remodeling, that I should help do something. I walk through the house and pick the one thing the was bothering me most.

As Anita finished straightening out her dress, she felt him gently grab her arm. "Anita, do you have to go?" He asked, . "I'll be ready to go again in a few minutes." His breathing was heavy, the recent rigorous activity had him panting. Anita turned to look at him as he fell back on the bed,. The tiny room is almost pitch black, with an illumination of sunlight coming in through a tiny slit in the drab, 10-year-old curtains covering the single window in the room. With her back still turned to him she relied, "You know I can't stay, Ron." She sighed, feeling ashamed as she contemplated her destination once she left. "I know. You just taste so sweet." Ron was the easiest of Anita's "clients" to deal with. Generally, her other clients are quick to do what they want to do with her, then discard her as quickly as they could, as if that would help to ease their own guilty conscience

I was starting to worry, it is getting dark out.” She told me kissing my forehead. “Now come help me with dinner.’ Taking my hand and dragging me away, but not before I could see the smugness of my brother’s face. I sent him a glare before making it into the kitchen. The rest of the night went on, and rather like other nights when we’ve been together. We sat down, ate, and talked. Nothing particularly special about the rest of that night, excepting George’s visit. Still though, this was one of the few occasions we could actually all come together. At least one that was enjoyable. The next morning was one I was genuinely looking forward to. But when I woke up hearing Mum calling me. So I had gotten dressed, in a skirt this time, in an effort to silence her. I left my room expecting to see my mother making breakfast. But instead seeing two officers of sorts, waiting at the open door. With my mother and father standing in front of

When the room started to bleed around the edges and the air began to taste overwhelmingly stale, our gracious host turned to my companion and I, and adopting a formality that was indicative of a more serious intent, said “I think you two better head out.” Up until that moment, we had been content, as well as confident, in our position as contracted performers at this boy’s circus. After all, we had been invited in as strangers, while everyone else there came along consistently with the afternoon post. However, it seemed we proved a bit too strange, as the sidelong stares had steadily increasing as the evening wore on and our glasses drained. In the space between him and the rest of the room, we reached a mutual understanding, and my small party collected what we could of our belongings without complaint. It was clear Emma and I were no longer welcome, though the gay celebration was far from winding down. This shame brought

I am awoken by the high-pitched ringing in my ears and the wailing sirens that are progressively growing louder . My drowsy eyes slowly shift towards the shattered car window on my right and I notice that the once shiny, black hood of my Jeep is now tattered and completely demolished like a dog’s old chew toy. A body pulls me out of the car and drags me towards the sidewalk - my clothes scraping and my shoes scuffing against the rough asphalt of the road. Silently laying on the cold concrete, I become aware of a slight hissing so tilt my head to the right, and to my surprise, I discover a tarnished radiator swinging from the hood of the car. Bumping against a tree every few seconds, the hissing of the radiator comes to a gradual stop, leaving

Drea, seated across from Joan at the Cup and Sword Tavern, grinned at her friend. Drea was thrilled to learn of Joan’s pregnancy and grateful for her friendship. It had been a lonely few years, raising Wallace without a father, but Drea’s new relationships with Alis, Carina, and Joan had drawn her out of isolation. This was the first time in years Drea had gone out for an evening meal with a friend, though she experienced a dull pang of guilt for leaving Wallace with the neighbor.

He wanted to know why was Wes talking to Marie while she was sick. I thought of my answer for a long time and finally said Marie has some information for your dad to hear. He thought the BIA handled their problems but I told him that Wes was just helping her. I walked away not far from David to a tree. I told David that I liked the wind. It was true. The wind reminded me of North Dakota. My dad use to curse the wind and say it was carrying the topsoil and giving it to South Dakota. I always loved the wind though. I loved the way it felt. David told me it makes good fishing because it riffles the water so the fish won't be able to see you. I told him the wind had a different smell here. In North Dakota the wind always smelled like dirt. Even

Megan opened the door, flipped on the lights and smirked at the aftermath left in the wake of a mid-week romp with Faith. They hadn’t exactly trashed the place but they hadn’t bothered picking up behind themselves either. Making it through the door before shucking off their clothes and devouring each other like sex-starved maniacs had been a challenge, especially after the multitude of suggestive gestures and innuendos they had volleyed back and forth while having dinner. As a result, the condo needed a little TLC before the start of another eventful weekend.

He hadn’t been home two hours when he started feeling anxious. He paced, back and forth in his bedroom, fidgeting with the gauntlets he hadn’t bothered to remove yet. He knew he’d never be able to sleep in this state, and working on his reading and writing skills didn’t seem to be much of an option either. Slowly, he worked through his options in his head. He could get drunk, or go for a walk, or work on fixing some of the more uncomfortable issues with the mansion… he hated all of those ideas. He wanted to talk to someone, just for a little while. Just to remind himself that he isn’t completely alone.

Control of this is important. My brain is no longer fried. CiCi’s is full of people, but not overly crowded. There is a long buffet of food from our childhood that awaits. “The place looks different, it looks used and worn down, kind’ve like an old town arcade” “I love it” she’s so easy, her face is glowing as we get our food, and set down “I’ve got work tomorrow 5-close” “well, are you going to come over when you get off” she asks questions she already knows the answer too. “of course, I want to rent the Nice guys”, “we should go back to that pizza? Bar in the Arts distract soon, maybe before summer is over?” “ I know! It was a blast, well I had fun. How’d that see-through top work out for ya? ha-ha “. I chuckle sarcastically. Strangely, it was very cold that summer night “it was very cold!” “yeah it was kind of chilly” “Chilly?! it wasn’t just ‘kind’ve’ chilly! Tyler” “I think it was a good time” “yeah” as she nods in agreement landing in for a kiss. “smooch” My kid is standing in the booth she’s 23 months and almost 2ft tall. She makes a big mess constantly grabbing my shirt every 2 minutes with her greasy hands, but what can you do? I grab the same napkin I’ve been using the whole time to keep wiping her hands, “We rub our hands together like this. wash wash, wash wash wash. Okay all done, High five” her little hand smacks mine. It’s beautiful. Maybe you can create somebody special enough to unlock the formula to make change. Life is not about territory or wage slavery; humans are capable of so much more. Perception is reality; controlling how somebody perceives reality, is to control their mind. We play a video game with her on my lap. She’s antsy. She gets up, game over. She looks at the gumballs, “a look is all she gets”, the time is now 8:15 the night is coming to an end, Ash works at 6:00 the next morning which calls for a 4 A.M. wake up. It starts to sprinkle on our

Everything seemed unusual. It was a gloomy, cold morning. The car’s windshields full of frost, steam from my mouth appeared as I walked to my car. My heater was on full blast as I shivered trying to take a sip of my hot chocolate. I was on my way to Archibald’s Family Dentistry- not for the usual cleaning or dental treatment, but to complete more hours towards my internship. As I sped walk towards the entrance trying not to slip I tell myself “I hope today is a good day”. I walk in, greet everyone, and set by lunch bag down. As I approach the break room I see Marcella, an employee, sitting down with a frown. I ask what is wrong, and she mentions her uncle had just died from liver cirrhosis. Giving her my greatest