Ordinary People

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Adam Harland

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DEFINITELY NOT the story of a suicidal teenager who is drowning in angst over the death of his brother! Not teenagers or anyone else with overly dramatic childhoods! This is the everyday drama of ordinary people in ordinary situations. So invite yourselves, your families, the neighbors and anyone else who fits the above and can write a decent paragraph, and let's all meet in Anytown U.S.A..

All the typical rules apply. Fill in your bio as you go along. An image would be helpful. Keep it sane and Play safe.
 
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Grandpa Charles Kordon set the coffee pot on the edge of the sink. Always the first to rise, he had his morning routine down to a precise and quiet ritual. He filled the chamber with exactly three tablespoons of dark roast and added water from the faucet. He placed the lid on the pot, plugged it in, and listened for the first few reassuring gurgles of soon-to-be boiling water. Taking his place at the table and unfolding the paper, he perused the headlines.

The percolator slowed to a stop as the last few drops of superheated water seeped through the grounds. Charles carefully folded the paper,leaving the page with the article he was reading facing up on the table. He slid his chair out, went to the cupboard and removed his favorite mug. It was the one with the corny old saying about fishing and being retired on it. He rinsed it out with hot water and filled it with the black brew. Taking his first sip, he peered over the mug and through the kitchen window. The light in the kitchen of the house across the way flickered on.
 
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Alise bound into the Kitchen area with the light hearted stride and energetic smile any seventeen year old would be proud to have. " Morning Pops," she chimed throwing him a side grin, without ever actually looking at him. Standing over the counter she poured her own cup of coffee savoring it's fresh smell. Her mug, unlike his, had several chips and scratches on his porcelain surface. The cup she so fondly used had accompanied her for many long years as she and her parents moved from home to slightly bigger home until finally they were able to live closer to grandpa Charles. "Ever an early riser I see." her comment really didn't have any bearing on whether he woke up early but rather if she slept in late. Lazy morning teen as she was, today she had special plans.

She took a few slow steps to lean on the island across from him, being careful not to spill her coffee. A sip or two later, her muscles relaxed once the cup was safely on the counter. Alise once again turned to smile at him, this time meeting his bright eyes. After a moment of silence, she realized she must have interrupted his quiet thoughts. "...What are you thinking about?" she asked voice quite a bit lower than before.
 
"Hmmm?...I'm sorry, darling. My mind was a million miles away." Charles took another sip from his mug and placed it on the counter. He pursed his lips and sighed. For all his years of experience he remained frustrated about his current situation. How could it be fair that Lucille Klinsky could deny him the pleasure of her company. How could someone who looked and acted so kind be so hard-hearted. He scoured his memory again, trying to discern any slight hurt or pain he might have caused her, and again, he came up empty. Telling himself that he should enjoy the company he has instead of that he wish he had, he put his thoughts about the lady across the way, the widow Klinsky, out of his mind. He sat back down at the table. "So, Alise," He smiled fondly, "what wonderful plans do you have this beautiful day?"
 
A slight frown pulled at Alise's lips as she gauged his pondering. Something must have upset him. Strange, it seemed to her, that a man with so many years would still have something troubling him. It was her naive assumption that life would've been pretty much figured out at his age. It bothered her a bit. "Gosh sakes alive Alise, to even assume that some people don't have bad days." she scolded to herself as she and her coffee followed him to the table. Still, it always lightened her mood when he spoke words of fondness. "Darling," Alise mused taking a good swallow "It'll be a strange day when I don't get to hear that from his lips.." She peered down at her mug pleading with herself never to think such a thought again.

His voice drew her attention so that she finally had to quit playing with the taste in her mouth to answer him. " I'm glad you asked." her bright smile returned, along with her excitement. "Leah and I are going to watch the sunrise down at the park." a quick glance outside confirmed that it was still, in fact, dark out "Other than that, I'm not really sure what this weekend holds." She shrugged then proceeded to lean against wall. "What about you?" the sound of the crunching newspaper drew her attention. With a fleeting thought she wondered what the rest of the world was up too.
 
"Me? I think I'll do some yardwork, once the dew burns off. That border along the back looks like it could use some work." Charles straightened the paper, smoothing the creases. "Say, if you're going to watch the sunrise, you best get going. The sun comes up mighty quick this time of year." Charles smiled, thinking back to the time he spent there with his first wife. The long walks, holding hands, just sitting at the edge of the playground watching their children grow up before their eyes. It gave him a warm feeling knowing that a new generation was enjoying the park the way he did in his day.
 
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