The Russians

BrockaMusic, Short Stories, TravelsLeave a Comment

The four of them are in a dark room. The only light streams in through a large window from the streetlights outside. One of the four, a seventeen-year-old girl, stands on a chair placed in the middle of the room wearing only a large sarong wrapped around her body with her hair in a bun. She sings a cappella to her tiny audience of three, two Russian guys from Moscow and a Russian girl by way of Vancouver, Canada.   They have all found themselves in this dorm hall, in Prague, during the summer school session. The singing American girl and the Canadian met in the train station in Munich, and decided to travel to Prague together. When they stepped out … Read More

BrockaThe Russians

Sleepovers II

BrockaShort Stories, TravelsLeave a Comment

Paris, 1998  By the time they left the club, the metros had shut down for the evening and a soft rain had begun to fall. The decided to hop into a taxi passing down Rue de Rivoli.  He had been watching her dance inside La Scala with a group of her friends for quite some time. It wasn’t until she elevated herself onto a tall stage block to dance that she noticed him seated in a booth along the perimeter, though. They maintained eye contact until she finally came down. They went straight for one another. There were coy introductions and the false modesty. The minor language barrier didn’t deter them. They alternated between being on the dance floor and kissing in … Read More

BrockaSleepovers II

Come & Go

BrockaArt, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

You hear yourself say it, but you probably haven’t associated it with physics. ‘When one door closes, another door or window opens.’ Here, a vacuum is created, and matter goes to fill an empty space. Everything depends on physics. Regarding our personal lives, people come and people go. Trite and true. One can only hope, the next iteration is better than the last.   The grandmother of a Chinese woman I know says, ‘whether in joy or in pain, learning to see it come and watch it leave, with the same steadiness of heart is the key to peace of mind.’  I told my friend, ‘This is another version of Stoicism.’   Things evolve through time, yet stay the same.  These two aforementioned thoughts have been on … Read More

BrockaCome & Go

Lives of Others

BrockaFashion, Music, Poems, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

I hear the beat and it brings me back to you. We are dancing together in the living room. In our own little world -spinning each other, then pushing apart to individually croon into our imaginary microphones. We are putting on a show in the living room. Attendees are half engaged in muted conversation and half giving us attention. We sing alto and soprano off of one another and when we bellow out the moving, crescendo parts of the song, all attention fully focuses on us. Always. We concentrate the room. We are performers. Many of these people have little in common, but we brought them together.  ‘Oh Lacey, why are you afraid? Look how you get up in front … Read More

BrockaLives of Others

Sleepovers

BrockaMusic, Poems, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

Her house is the house. Anyone can show up; anyone can stay. And that’s the draw. But more have shown up this time than ever before and it’s a bit overwhelming. Elbow to elbow, full of body heat. Loud. So loud. Between the energy of the crowd and the bouncing music, the house can appear as if it’s pulsing. She runs through the rooms making sure people are keeping their shit contained. How the hell does she always wake up to a clean house after these parties? They respect! They are not allowed if they don’t. She scolds with the quick. The house is small and she runs a tight ship. She cracks the whip, ‘Empty your ashtrays! Throw your beer cans … Read More

BrockaSleepovers