View to a Guy through Fingers Forming a Heart

Doug's Story
How could he have forgotten me? It was the most important drink of my life and he acts like he didn't even pour it. Who is this man? This man without a name? I have to know. I'll follow him everywhere. I'll know his heart. Know who he knows. Know his name and age and language. Someday, when I find a camera, I'll take pictures just...like...this.


Mushroom's Story
It was a slow day at the park for Bob. He was sitting on that park bench, crushing people's heads between his fingers, but it didn't seem to have the usual thrill after awhile. From another bench came Gina, who came up to Bob and said, "I know what you're doing, and you're on MY turf."
Bob feigned confusion. "Who are you, and what do you think I am doing?"
Gina leaned into his face and said, "I am Gina, and this is MY park to crush heads in!"
Bob said, "I'm Bob, and I've been coming here for months, so it's my park. So you crush heads too?"
Gina sneered, "Don't make me have to crush YOUR head, again. It's MY park."
Just then Bob caught sight of a young man who was dozing off on another bench and he said, "Okay, Gina, there's only one way we can settle this. See that kid? Let's see who can crush his head the most."
She looked over and raised her hands, "He's MINE!" In one heart-shaped motion both thumb-and-forefinger forceps gripped the kid's head.
"Not so fast," he replied and secured the kid's head between his right thumb and forefinger, and began crushing.
They both sweated and groaned, crushing and crushing until they both were breaking a sweat, and the boy nonchalently rose and walked off.
Winded, Gina sat down next to Bob and said, "Damn, you're quite the adversary."
Bob caught his breath and said, "I've never met a woman like you, Gina... would you like to go to that cafe around the corner? We can take turns crushing heads."
Gina smiled and said, "I get the first one."

[Cultural reference: The Kids In The Hall's "Head Crusher" character.]


Still Life's Story
It was the beginning stages when infatuation was sweet. When her heart drummed wildly at the thought of seeing him, whenever the phone rang or she pictured his smile.
It was at least six months before love broke down, before she lost interest and Saturday nights were just another night at the movies with a small popcorn. It was before his jokes fell flat and the sound of the laugh brought irritation.
Right now it was the beginning stages when infatuation was sweet and when she looked at him all she saw was love.


Viruswitch's Story
I tried to love him again and again. I looked at him from the front, from behind and from the side. But in vain. Maybe if I draw the right spell around his form, I will hypnotize myself...


Joe King's Story
With a squeal, she bounced up behind me, stretched out her arms, and pressed her fingers together into a crude heart. She was giggling, my balding head tingling. "You know you love him!" she hissed into my left ear, breaking the heart and falling back, laughing. I jerked around and shushed her, but she was too far gone. Her eyes were glossy and her cheeks all tomato. My aluminum lawnchair creaked, chilled from the brisk morning, and I took another swig of Bud. Play it cool. Play it macho. He's your damn brother-in-law. Other men, other men. Many other men. He's your in-law.

He turned, looking over my head, snorting and shaking his head as he dried off the bottle with a flap of his jacket. "What's their problem?" he asked, cracking open a bottle bare-handed. I cleared my throat and shifted again, willing my cheeks not to redden.


My Story
Caledonia was one of those girls who made strong demands on her lovers. They had to look nerdy when they pointed those two staring eyes at her. Her body always made eyes stare. She liked their heads to be decorated with a baseball cap, and the back of the neck shaven just the day before, so she could run her fingertips against the prickly fuzz that sprouted there. They must have a timid disposition, for it was her habit to sneak up on them and pounce, usually while their thoughts wandered - she loved the startled reaction. They must be all thumbs and thin-lipped because, honestly, what girl could resist the feel of thumbs all over her? Or thin lips exploring her? The moment she spotted a specimen, the perfection of all her desires, she knew. She held her fingers in the shape of a heart and peered through at him, her way of symbolically declaring him fair game. But it wouldn't last long. After the first few hours the sterility of perfection always began to bore her.