joaquin piece tuesday

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joaquin piece tuesday

Post by Oso the great on Mon May 08, 2017 4:30 pm

Reflections in the Glass

Parker had been walking for hours: his feet sloshing through the snow that covered the ground, by now his feet were soaked. The wind blew down the street and rippled Parker’s jacket chilling him to the bone. He wasn’t prepared to be in this weather wearing a red t-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a thin black hoodie, and a pair of cheap black converse. He shouldn’t have been outside dressed like this. But then again Parker hadn’t planned on walking this far. When he had left the house in the morning it had been warm and sunny. But weather was unpredictable and in Alaska it was even worse. Having lived in Kenai, Alaska his entire life, Parker should have known to at least pack layers. Parker wasn’t blaming this on his stupid mistake though he was blaming it on the stupid bus. This type of weather always happened, if it hadn’t been for the bus breaking down Parker could have gotten off right outside his house. But instead he was walking through the cold wet Alaskan streets. The worst end to the worst day ever.
By the time Parker made it to his front door it had begun to snow. He shuffled around to find his key, and quickly jammed it into the lock. The door swung shut behind him with a satisfying click. He stood there shivering; cold in the entrance hall of the house. Parker glanced at the clock. It was built like an old-fashioned grandfather clock except everything was made out of metal from the chimes to the hands even the glass was a thin layer of metal. This was one of his fathers many inventions. The hands of the clock shown clearly telling him it was 5:40. Well, he hadn’t taken forever to get home. Which ruined his plan of getting lost and skipping the rest of the school year. But at least he had some time to clean up before his dad got home. He dropped his backpack on the floor of his room. Stripped off his wet clothes and threw them in the washer. And then he hopped into the shower. He spent twenty minutes washing the marker and paint from his skin. Then he spent another ten alternating between cutting and combing gunk out his hair. While also cursing when it hurt. Once he was clean from head to toe he pulled on a pair of plaid pajama jeans and a gray sweatshirt.
“You had a bad day, takin’ it down, sing a sad song, just to turn it around” He sang as he bandaged the scrapes and bruises that adorned his arms and legs. “You had a bad daaaaaay, you had a bad, OW GOD DAMN THAT HURTS LIKE A #@$%&”



Parker’s dad opened the door right as the clock struck 7:00 pm. Parker switched off the TV and rose adjusting his clothes so that none of his injuries could be seen. Mr. Reed wasn’t a very intimidating man at first glance with olive skin and black hair; warm brown eyes outlined by the heavy black frames of his glasses, which were currently hanging sideways off his nose. He was quiet muscular being; an inventor/mechanic, but the ruffled linen suits Mr. Reed always wore hid that. He carried an old-fashioned satchel bag and a stack of disorderly papers. Both of which he promptly plopped onto the foyer table. He stood up straight and gave his son a discerning look.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence he sighed satisfactorily gave his son a smug smile and exclaimed, “New hair cut?”
Parker’s hand flew up to his hair faster than a fly moves through a centimeter of air. “Oh no” parker thought how could he have forgotten to gel up his hair so it looked normal.
He turned towards his dad and stuttered. “Dad I ... Well you see ... The thing is”
His dad however was now gathering his papers back up. When he looked back up at Parker it was with a look of understanding.
“I’ll give you some time to think about what to tell me,” his dad said “in the mean time I will be down stairs working on the machine, okay.”
“Okay”
Parker descended the steps towards the basement. He stepped lightly even though there was nothing to fear. However last time he had hopped down the stairs, a screwdriver nearly punctured his skull. In his peripheral vision Parker saw himself reflected from the various mirrors along the stairs. Once he reached the floor he shifted his weight onto his toes, and began to weave his way towards the center of the room careful not to step on any wires or cords. “The Machine” as his dad called it was utterly astounding. The first time parker saw it; it had only been one metal plate with a whole bunch of wires connected to it now it was roughly the size of a stove. It was easily four feet tall and five feet wide and it went back at least three feet. But the most astounding thing about it was that it was entirely covered in mirrors from the sides to the converter box even the switch was covered in mirrors. The machine was “beautiful” it gleamed, and shined, as if a thousand tiny suns were reflecting off a thousand tiny moons and its light had been compacted into this invention.
“Well hey there” his dad said but Parker was busy gawking at the magnificence of the machine.
“Earth to Parker”
“Wha sorry yes”
“Do you have something to tell me?” His father asked
“Well me and some of the guys at school were messing around and we cut my hair,” Parker lied “I didn’t think it was to bad though.”
“Are you sure there is nothing else you want to tell me.”
“Positive,” parker answered a little bit to quickly “Today wasn’t exceptionally bad. Nothing really happened.” They both knew he was lying but what would his father have said if he knew the truth. If he knew that the other boys had marked his face with war paint and teased him about his native descent, that one of the girls in his class had cracked raw eggs over his head, Or that the principles son had pushed him down the staircase right in front of a teacher who had done nothing to stop it. If his father knew how bad things really were for Parker he wouldn’t be able to stand it Parker wouldn’t allow his father to take any more pain even if it caused Parker more.
Parkers’ dad gave him a sad look “Parker,” his father said, “I hope you know how amazing you are. You are the best invention I have ever had a part in making.”
“Thanks” Parker said trying not to sound to insulted that he was just compared to a machine.
“You know I think the machine works.”
Parker looked up, his fathers face was full of excitement and curiosity. This was huge; Parkers dad had been working on this for years. If he had really gotten a breakthrough this could be monumental.
“So what does it do then?” Parker asked
“Well” his father said “if I’m correct it should be able to show us alternate dimensions. Uhh wait right here let me go get a camera.”
After his father had run up the stairs Parker approached the machine At the center of the machine was a large full body mirror. He looked into the mirror at the person staring back at him. For once he realized why his dad was so concerned. Parker looked bad. He managed to look pale as if he were sick, which is pretty hard to do when you are as dark as Parker is. His eyes were red from the cold air. His nose and cheeks still flushed and burning. And his hair, his once beautiful long brown hair was cut jagged and short as if someone tried to give him a haircut with safety scissors. Which Parker thought was a pretty accurate description.
“ well at least I still got my eyes.” Parker said. He chuckled sadly at his own joke. Parker turned to walk towards the stairs, but as soon as he lifted up his foot he heard the mechanical click clank of a foot petal. He turned and looked where his foot had been, and sure enough there was a small foot powered button on the floor. There was a rush of energy through the room. The machine sparked, and then the lights went out. Parkers eyes began to dilate. The room was completely dark. Parker called out and his own voice seemed to echo through oblivion. Suddenly the machine began to hum and glow. The large mirror in the center began to illuminate.
In the mirror Parker could see himself. Except it wasn’t him. In the mirror his skin was fair, his eyes green, and his hair was a brownish red. The parker in the mirror wasn’t wearing a shirt so his muscles were clearly visible as were his tattoos. Parker had neither muscles nor tattoos Parker looked on in awed wonder, and the mirror Parker looked back with just as much wonder. They both stepped towards the mirror as if one of them truly was just a reflection. Parker tilted his head from side to side, as did the mirror Parker. For a second Parker thought the mirror was just manipulating his image, so he smiled at himself. This time though his mirror image did not return the smile instead he turned his head side ways. When he looked back at Parker his face seemed as terrified as Parker felt. This was real!
“What are you,” Parker asked.
He reached his hand towards the surface of the mirror. The parker on the other side Pulled back and his wings ruffled as if they too were scared.
“Wait wings” parker thought, “oh no this can’t be happening.”
He pinched himself saying, “I’m still in the nurses office. That’s all that it.” But nothing happened he was still there and so was the man in the mirror. He looked for a switch but there seemed to be nothing there. At the moment all that existed was the mirror and the two Parkers. Again Parker moved towards the mirror He raised his hands and touched the mirror, which was strangely warm. The mirror parker hesitantly placed his hand on the other side of the mirror. There was a sudden tug in Parkers arm, and everything was consumed in a bright light.
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Oso the great

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