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Short Stories




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One Small Step At A Time
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TITLE (EDIT)
One Small Step At A Time
DESCRIPTION
A glass-half empty kind of guy named Allan makes a big triumph in a small tragedy.
[494 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Psychology
AUTHOR
T J Rintoull
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS!
-------------------------------------------------
T J Rintoull, born 1983, currently residing on the Gold Coast in Australia, grew up in a combination of city housing, winnebago travelling and bush shacks, before entering the worlds of music, art and literature. Told often that he should have attended university to better himself, instead he devotes his time to working dead end jobs in order to pay the bills, and his spare time to creating music and literature. He confesses that although he loves to paint he has no ability with a brush whatsoever.
Currently T J Rintoull resides with his fiance in a small flat, as he continues to attempt a measure of success with his band and his writing.
_________________________________________________
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS!
[May 2006]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (43)
A Better Friend (Poetry) Poem for solitude and loneliness. [94 words] [Motivational]
A Haiku (Poetry) A Haiku [8 words] [Mind]
A Name Will Come (Songs) The first of many song lyrics to be included here - this written for the world today, for things we've lost, faith in ourselves and many other things - this is the title song of my band. [218 words] [Spiritual]
A Simple Hope (Poetry) A short poem I wrote while at work. [57 words] [Motivational]
A Sudden Burst Of Sunshine (Short Stories) Arty awakens on a farm with amnesia and is forced over a single day to come to grips with his former life. [7,122 words] [Popular Fiction]
Bald (Poetry) A complaint against nature and pattern baldness. [132 words] [Nature]
Bathroom Memorial (Short Stories) A rare moment of reverse joy in the life of a depressive semi-suicidal. [744 words] [Mind]
Brothers And Sisters (Songs) I was told, "good people don't like you" This was the result. [128 words] [Relationships]
California Gothic (Poetry) This poem is simultaneously a blighted personal love poem and one big metaphor for an attack on modern society. [155 words] [Motivational]
Cliches Are Still Feelings (Poetry) The entire poem is one big cliche nowadays, or so I'm told. Is it still relevant? Is it thematic plagiarism? You be the judge. [90 words] [Romance]
Downtime (Poetry) Lyrics to a song, written for my band. [164 words] [Motivational]
Epistle To Faeries Past (Short Stories) A letter to a ghost of the past. [814 words] [Drama]
Fire Fright (Poetry) Read the poem please. [172 words] [Mind]
Goin Pro (Songs) Sarcasm, metaphor, this song is all of these things and more. Unless of course you're going pro... [63 words] [Erotic]
In Dreams (Poetry) Poem written at work, for nothing more than disillusioned ambition. [69 words] [Motivational]
Left (Poetry) It's not really a poem about breakups, although initially it would seems so. It's about more than that - interpersonal relationships falling apart, as well as a minor metaphor for the world at large. [152 words] [Relationships]
Moments To Remember (Short Stories) The first and last moments of true love... [683 words] [Romance]
New Year's Day (Poetry) This was written on the morning of the new year. [105 words] [Mind]
Out Of Ink, Out Of Time (Short Stories) Tongue-in cheek short story about office work and accidents of quantum physics. [627 words] [Literary Fiction]
Poem For Poet's Sake (Poetry) A poem about the poet - striking out westward in search of something new. [99 words] [Mind]
Poem - Reasons (Poetry) Lyrics for a song. [179 words] [Mind]
Poena Acer (Poetry) Short Lyric Poem. [27 words] [Mind]
Poena Aetas (Poetry) As always, sophomore description of heartache and pain, this time expressed as a tattoo. [83 words] [Mind]
Poena Affectus (Poetry) Small collection of lyrics and poems, (also lyric poems) - many of these are untitled. [1,142 words] [Mind]
Poena Convoco (Poetry) Another metaphoric, or perhaps not so metaphoric attack on the modern world - but as always I seem to constrict its purity with personal memories. [120 words] [Business]
Poena Defendo (Poetry) Poem written while attending a carnival/field day in the heart of country pig hunting territory; these words were inspired by some of the people and imagery at the functions I attended. [77 words] [Animal]
Poena Flumen (Poetry) Of Rivers and Flowers and Life And Love and Pain. [87 words] [Spiritual]
Poena Labo (Poetry) On friends liars and life. [91 words] [Relationships]
Poena Speculum (Poetry) For the wanderer and watcher. [52 words]
Poena Termes (Poetry) A tree falling. A teardrop landing. [21 words] [Nature]
Poena Texo (Poetry) Second Collection Of Short Poems On The General Subject Of Pain - dealing with inner and outer turmoil, conflict and heartache. Deep. [364 words]
Poeta Postulo (Poetry) The poet's question of his feminist muse. [226 words]
Shopping (Short Stories) She went shopping - he was left home alone... [501 words] [Relationships]
Sleep Insane (Poetry) Continuation of California Gothic, but from a different mind, view, philosophy and life. [83 words] [Mind]
The Evening Red (Poetry) Do you drink....wine? [46 words] [Health]
The Golden Man (Poetry) Originally I thought to make this a story - but I thought it better as a short poem. [96 words] [Spiritual]
The Great Procrastination (Poetry) Self explanatory, really. [121 words] [Mind]
The Office (Poetry) I couldn't work out if this was a micro-short or a prose poem. The way it's written it's a short story, but I think there's too much rhyme, and it's a bit too short. Anyway, here it is for your pleasu... [474 words] [Mind]
This Marble Reflection (Poetry) Surrealism - in prose. [118 words]
Toad (Poetry) Poem - about a toad. [50 words]
Upon Waking (Poetry) Upon waking, this short lyric poem came to me. [60 words] [Psychology]
Wamphyrri (Poetry) Romantic sense of the vampire. [177 words] [Horror]
You Said.... (Poetry) Short freeform poem descriptive of the deserted wounded lover. [59 words] [Drama]
One Small Step At A Time
T J Rintoull

ďYouíre young, youíre strong, and youíre alive. You can do it Allan.Ē

That voice again. Stinging me with nettles of hope, forcing the drudgery to shine back at me as if itís truer than my own precious perception. I waver a little, wondering if my resolve is really so fragile. Stiffly I muster my inner resolve and press forward.

ďGo for it Allan! Allan! Allan! Allan!Ē

I wish to God she would just shut up. Nothing makes me more nervous than that whining, nasal voice cheering me on. At least sheís not my wife. That would be the death of me for sure. I take another hesitant step forward. One foot in front of the other, one pace at a time.

I take a breather.

For a few glistening moments, there is silence. I scan my surrounds, drawing my line of vision as wide as possible. I see them there, languid, vanquished. Leering up from their cheap plastic chairs with cheaper aluminium legs. A perverted little half Ėsmile creeps up the side of my jaw, giving me that leer of quiet confidence seen only in presidents and paedophiles. The silence breaks, my footfalls echoing around me, lighting the way forward.

I realise as I make my way past the plastic chairs that I may have been too harsh at first glance. They are languid, itís true; and itís certain their will and fire were vanquished long ago. There is little here but the distorted memories of worlds long since burned out and faded away. Yet I feel momentarily compelled, unfamiliar the sudden urge to reach out and touch each and every one of them, just put my hands in their hands and smile.

This is not like me.

Iím not a people person, Iíll tell you that much. Never was, probably never will be. Itís not people that are the problem, and no, you guessed wrong, itís not really me either. Iím social enough; I know my courtesies, observe the social graces. Itís simply an unfortunate fact that conversation, for me, and for those stuck loathsomely in my conversation, is at best an awkward dance of tongues.

It reminds me of my sexual performance, every time it happens. Conversation that is.

Yet now is not the time to dwell on such things. Iíve passed them by, head held high, and Iíve only a few more steps to take. I take the short look over my shoulder, the little smile lingering, that nasal little witch grinning and waving in that infuriatingly likeable way that she always does. Thatís a connection Iíd rather not dwell on, not now, not ever.

One step closer.

Itís almost over, I take the last two strides with a cocky pride I never knew I possessed. My heel spins, and I am suddenly the centre of attention. I raise my head and lock eyes with her, the voice of reason, that disgusting filthy little voice so full of life and hope.

Then I say it.

ďHi. My name is AllanÖand Iím an alcoholic.Ē

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2009 T J Rintoull
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
July 2009
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1270
 

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