April Chavez
Bio
Stories (8/0)
Stolen
“Sally, hukim, Sally,” his fingers glided over the top of her spiraled notebook like Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1983 piano performance at the Barbican Centre, it was placid, momentarily merciful. She immediately ceased from writing the last of her dexterous doodles that so finely covered the bottom end of her notebook page and gazed into his easy blue eyes, they were sweet, gentle, in her mind they were somehow affectionate. The moment lasted several seconds, astray in his delicate, masculine approach, her eyes lost along the widened edges of the pupils that so easily mimicked her own, “oh, sorry, yes?” “What size jacket will you be needing? You did not mark it on the new student orientation list. ”She took her paper back from his large bush-covered hands, and placed an x along the short line next to small, “will that be all?” His tall bolder like frame turned and walked away without a word. She replaced the cap over her highlighter and tucked her notebook beneath her arm, “you guys have ten minutes, we will be resuming in room 207.”
By April Chavez2 years ago in Fiction
Stollen
“Ahhwooh,” this is the last time she thought as she blew the last bit of smoke from Bebe’s pineapple-wrapped doobi. The ring of fire pressed into the center of the charcoal gey astray just below the controls of her 2015 sound system. She traced the arch of her brows with her index fingers, ensuring they were sleek and in tip-top shape. Strawberry chapstick met each corner of her mouth, gliding from the top of her lip down and around the bottom of her juicy piece of perfection. She smiled as she winked in the vanity of her visor. Three pumps of blueberry scented bath and body works, spearmint peppermint chew, and cracked windows removed any lasting smell that Mary Jane may have left behind. She closed the car door behind herself, adjusted the collar of her burgundy pantsuit, grabbed her notebook from the pit of her arm, and proceeded to the big H. It was lit like a light tower, white glowing lights plastered across the two-story building, either directing traffic or calling its subjects into formation. Harleys, School of Nursing.
By April Chavez2 years ago in Fiction
Stolen
Stolen Twenty-seven is just too old to be a student, “wait, what, is he talking to me, or do I have it all wrong,” she thought? He twiddled the back of his hair as he continued to release his persistent side grin. Her heart pounded and she halted, “what.” Confused, perplexed, and in disbelief, the complete opposite of what she had come to know. Teachers didn't do that, school was a safe place, a place for peace, a place for learning, a place where all walks of life joined together in the pursuit of profound enlightenment. “Am I Trippin, or did he just rub up against me?”
By April Chavez2 years ago in Fiction
Danny
Danny He has one eye a mouth and a zipper for a nose, I named him Danny, though he wasn't always Danny. When I first met him he was a plain old brown bookbag, what I didn't know, was Danny could speak, breathe, laugh, giggle even. He scared the holy bejesus out of me the first night he called my name, “Laura,” he whispered, at first I thought I was hearing stuff, downright hallucinating when two legs protruded from the sowl of his pack. He stood straight up, reached out his hand, and waited for me to shake it. “I am Danny he said,” “I’m a magic bag and I can take you many places. All I ask in return is that you never set me on the floor.” He didn't tell me why and I didn't care to ask.
By April Chavez2 years ago in Criminal
Rouf
Rouf I’m not doing it, I’m not getting up, I’m staying right here I tell myself as his dark marble eyes pierce through my shaggy bangs and charcoal sleep-deprived eyelids. “Rouf!” “Fuck you!” I yell. “Errer,” yeah I bet he wasn't expecting that, I say it again, “fuck you,” this time with more zeal, more authority in my tone. I’m in charge here and I won't be walked on by some golden, curly hair bag. Then he does it, he leans his head down, places both paws on top of the other, and sniffles through the carpet. Now I’m the bad guy and Sammy is the victim once again. I ease out of bed, carefully place a pillow where my exhausted body should be, I slowly cover it with our Goose Down Feather Comforter, I shimmy my boy shorts just below my navel, I’m ready.
By April Chavez2 years ago in Confessions
Danny
Danny He has one eye a mouth and a zipper for a nose, I named him Danny, though he wasn't always Danny. When I first met him he was a plain old brown bookbag, what I didn't know, was Danny could speak, breathe, laugh, giggle even. He scared the holy bejesus out of me the first night he called my name, “Laura,” he whispered, at first I thought I was hearing stuff, downright hallucinating when two legs protruded from the sowl of his pack. He stood straight up, reached out his hand, and waited for me to shake it. “I am Danny he said,” “I’m a magic bag and I can take you many places. All I ask in return is that you never set me on the floor.” He didn't tell me why and I didn't care to ask.
By April Chavez2 years ago in Criminal
Matthew
Matthew Ch.1
By April Chavez2 years ago in Criminal
Two-Piece of Courage
Two Piece of courage It was Saturday, she was fierce, eager, multitastic, energetic, but most of all, she was ready. Though she didn't start that way, it took her thirty minutes and a pair of scissors to disclose her handmade makeshift shaw. White polyester to be exact, queen-sized, and sexy, wrapping around her body like high-end mink. Practically impossible, but that is exactly what makes this story interesting, hot girl summer, the biggest beach party since Trent house in 1986. Was it her fault that on the biggest day of summer she just so happened to be a victim of theft, gone, eighty-sixth, nowhere to be found. Her beach bag disappeared like hot cakes on Sunday.
By April Chavez2 years ago in Fiction