Welcome! I love to write, and I love sharing what I write with my readers. I vary my style as much as I can-posting events, creative non-fiction, prose and poetry and the occasional video. Enjoy!



Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Water Walk

By: Christine McFarlane
Water is an integral life source. It is sacred when you look at it from a First Nations perspective. It is a critical element to life. Every living being relies on water for life-insects, fish, birds, wildlife and plant life and we in return rely on them for our survival.
What will we do when our water supply is depleted, and too polluted for us to use? That is the question I put forth today in this post. Every day usage of water in many situations is being taken for granted and in doing so we are jeopardizing the future of our waters for future generations. If the disregard for the water supply continues, we can expect our water to become depleted and unfit for human consumption. This demands urgency for raising awareness for the conservation of this life source.
Aboriginal peoples in Ontario are aware of the growing rise of our polluted waters. We as aboriginal peoples are taught that the water is sacred and replenishes the very air we breathe. Everyday usage of water in many situations is being taken for granted, and the future of our waters will be depleted unless we do something together to help all our peoples around the world to be aware of its importance for the survival of future generations.
The Mother Earth Water Walk 2011 is currently taking place. It began at the beginning of this month and will end June 12, 2011 in Bad River Wisconsin. One participant of the Mother Earth Walk is  25-year-old Aamjiwnaang First Nation member and University of Toronto student Sylvia Plain. I admire this young lady for participating in such an important cause.
The walk isn’t easy, it is 11,525 miles or 18, 549 kilometer walk that has them walking for 12 hours a day and averaging 35 miles a day. Plain says “the hardest times we have had on the walk was when we walked alone for one day, 36 miles. The Elders told us we were meant to do it, but it was hard because we were used to having support. So even though we were dead tired, we had to double up to motivate each other.”
As a youth, Plain is setting an example for others as she relays “we are walking for the future. It is also to reach out to non native communities to have them think consciously about the water too. Protecting the water is about all of North America because we all live here and we all have the same responsibility.

For more information or to support the Mother Earth Water walk please see

Monday, April 25, 2011

What Writing Means To Me:

Writing is an integral part of my life, whether I am doing it creatively for myself or it is for the various First Nations news outlets that I write for. As a First Nations freelance writer, I have covered some very interesting events throughout my career and especially in the past year.
It is a very well known fact that mainstream media tends to sensationalize stories and portray First Nations people in a negative light. All you need to do to witness that is to pick up a copy of a mainstream paper such as the Toronto Sun, the Toronto Star or the National Post, or turn on a television news channel, where grim prospects seem to be the norm when they are reported on.  As a member of the media, and as a First Nations woman I find that I usually have to tread very carefully when I am at an event, because there is often a palpable mistrust when you see someone standing at your event, writing notes and gathering evidence of the event that is going on.
I take my role as a public writer very seriously because much like a researcher in the field of academia, I must be completely cognizant of the ethics that surround writing a story and how it is relayed to the public long after the event has finished. This involves being aware of protocols surrounding certain ceremonial events such as a pow wow, or the opening of an event that involves drumming.  There is nothing worse than taking a picture of an individual and then having it pointed out to you later that you should have waited until after the song was sung or the drumming had stopped. Thankfully, as I have come to understand my culture and its traditions, I rarely make those mistakes now, and when and if I do, I am quick to correct myself.
 Ethics are an integral component of writing, whether it is for the media or for academia. I would like to think that following the 7 Grandfather teachings- Wisdom, Love, Respect, Bravery, Honesty, Humility and Truth can help me to adhere to the ethics surrounding the events that I have often had to cover.
I view myself as holding a dual role when it comes to the area of writing and also being a visible First Nations woman writer in the Toronto community.  As a writer, my ‘tool’ of literacy is putting pen to paper and making sure that my words and what I produce from that make a difference instead of hurting my people.
I believe that in order for me to gain trust and keep the trust of my people, I must stick to my own personal mandate of contributing to the media in a positive light, and in doing this help to dispel those glaring stereotypes and assumptions that mainstream media put out there.
I cover many different events, but the ones that have resonated with me the most in the last year are the political events/rallies. There is something about standing within an event, witnessing strength and resiliency and feeling pride run through my bones, when I see community members, young and old gather and march together in support of a particular cause. It is this that makes me want to say, “I am proud to be First Nations, and I am part of these people.”
In November of 2010 I covered a Child Welfare Rally where community members and elected Chiefs from various communities gathered to voice their concerns over the issues of child welfare and the negative role that they feel the Children’s Aid societies have been playing in First Nations communities. I sat in the audience at the Arts and Letters Club in downtown Toronto to listen to an Ethics at Ryerson University Speaker Series where issues that were brought forth were about “Closing the Gap: Perspectives on Aboriginal Education” and “Indigenous Experience, Identity and Aspiration: The Importance of Belonging,” and lastly I sat in on the Indigenous Writer’s Gathering that was put on by our Writer-in Residence at First Nations House, Cherie Dimaline, and learned how each writer approaches their work in a manner that is conducive to them.
The issues presented at all these events, whether it is questioning identity in an urban setting, child welfare rights and self determination, treaty rights regarding education, or questioning what role literature plays in a First Nations individual are very prevalent for First Nations people. These issues bring First Nations people together, young and old, gives a voice to those who may not feel they can make their voices heard, and as a writer, a First Nations woman writer, I make the conscious effort to portray my people in a positive light, so that there is a continued hope amongst everyone for our future as a people and a nation.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Human rights complaint underlines lack of services on reserve

Human rights complaint underlines lack of services on reserve

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Legends and Stories Still Play An Important Role in Anishinabe Worldview

By: Christine McFarlane 
 Anishinaabe peoples are storytellers, and have been since the beginning of time.  It is through legends (aatisoohkan (an) or aatisoohkan (ak) and stories (tepachimowan) that they relate to the world around them. Though there has been a shift in attitudes and beliefs I believe that Anishinaabe legends and stories continue to play a relevant role in the Anishinaabe worldview and can apply to communities today.
“The actualities of Ojibwa life can only be fully comprehended by taking into account the ways in which their thinking, experience and behavior are affected by the conceptualization and interpretation of phenomena that are implicit in their traditional outlook upon the world.” (Hallowell 60) This is where I believe stories come in. Acculturation brought about many changes to First Nations peoples lives. Hanging onto stories/legends and myths despite having to adapt ecologically, linguistically, socially and culturally and their traditional manner in which they try to live is what has helped them to adapt to the world we live in today.
Story and myth mean many things to Anishinaabe peoples and it is through story as we have learned from lecturer Alex McKay that “children are taught in their earliest years” (16/11/2010) because it not only helps them to view their place in the world but it also teaches them life lessons. Lessons can be likened to a quest. I believe that stories are like quests, because when you are telling a story, or you are listening to someone tell you a story from an Anishinaabe perspective-you are often embarking on a journey with the storyteller and you find yourself questioning what the story means and the role it can play in your life.
Stories play an integral role in Anishinaabe worldview because it prepares a child to become a responsible and contributing member of society and it requires the development of an internalized understanding of the shared beliefs, values and goals that exist within the culture. Social behavior is managed through the individual’s responsibility for his or her own conduct. This is based on self-monitoring and having the ability to reflect.
As teaching and guiding tools, story and myth teach us lessons of morality, law and governance and relay how everything is interrelated in one way or another. It is also through story and myth that the Ojibwa people learn about creation, history and how they are supposed to go about living the good life- piimaatiswin.
An example of a story that teaches you about connection and responsibility would be the story of “Shiikawiihsh.”(The Witch) In this story, a woman goes out with her baby, and in the process of cutting firewood, she takes her attention away from her baby, and when she turns back, the baby is gone. When she goes back to her husband, her husband asks her “Why are you sad?” (Sugarhead 47) In response the woman tells him  “Indeed I suddenly lost our little baby while I was busy cutting logs for firewood there in the forest.” (Sugarhead 47) In response the husband is angry and sends her away.
When the woman is sent away, you get caught up in wondering if the woman will find her baby, and if she finds her baby, will the connection she had with her baby be lost because she disregarded her role as a mother by not protecting her baby. This story can play out in modern life because it makes you look within and question the role of connection and responsibility. As a woman, and as a mother, you would want to question the woman’s inability to stay aware of her surroundings and her inability to keep an eye on her own child.
  I have learned from lecturer, Alex McKay that though “stories are difficult they make you become involved because you question it,” (19/02/2010) and it is through questioning that you figure out “how you may fit into the story.”(19/02/2010) “Shiikawiihsh” has you asking “How can a woman turn her back on her own baby?” and “Who is the witch in modern life.” This story can be viewed from many perspectives depending on who is trying to learn from it. After thinking about this story at great length, it made me recall the role of naval connection-aatisookanan.
 Connection plays a huge role in everyone’s lives, whether you are a child, or an adult, and connection often starts with your mother. Those who have had the misfortune of growing up without a mother, whether it was through the advent of the residential school system, or being orphaned through the sixties and seventies scoop where First Nations children were taken away from their families and communities and adopted out, the loss of connection can often make you feel lost, and you often have to learn how to make your own connections, your own community.
Alex McKay suggested that “it is a woman’s nightmare to lose her child, and if you have given birth, you would know that feeling,” (08/03/2011) and I agree with this, however though I am not a mother, I am an aunt. The thought of possibly losing my niece would just devastate me, because we are very close. The closeness we have is something I would consider tantamount to her being the daughter I never really had. Also, I have from afar heard of the pain my own biological mother has gone through after child welfare officials took all four of her children away. I still deal with the loss of that particular connection to this day.
The role of the witch comes into question also. You ask yourself what does the witch do, her behavior comes into question because you wonder how could she take another woman’s child and try to pass her off as her own. Various classmates suggested that “Shiikawiihsh” symbolized or was representative of the children being taken away from their communities during the residential school era.
I see the witch as being what has often been discussed in class as a Windigo. Shiikawiish is a dishonest woman because she not only takes away someone else’s child but she tries to pass off her own breast milk as the baby’s mother’s milk, and gets upset when the baby does not take her milk and transforms him/her into a big youth, so that the mother cannot experience the feeling of closeness or bond with her child. Shiikawiish wastes a lot of effort and time and could have done kinder things instead of taking a child away from its mother, and causing her more pain by not letting her experience the joy of bonding and watching her child grow.
Alex McKay suggests that Shiikawiish can be seen as a universal story.  He relays that through the storyteller we are learning about “what it is like to have a village without a child,” (08/03/2011) and that “you can have a child or children that used to live in the community”(08/03/2011) and when they are gone, it can be likened to a mass kidnapping. You can also see Shiikawiish as telling others to watch out and be aware of your surroundings and connections. It is through “aatis,” your belly button,  that we are connected to our children and our children’s children that we are connected to our ancestors and their knowledge.
Another example of a story that can relate to our modern day world is “He Dreamed That the Sioux Were Coming.” Within this myth/legend the reader is introduced to the dream world and the possibilities of its power. The dream world plays a very significant and vital role within the Ojibwa worldview, because it is often through dream that individuals are introduced to the ‘other than human persons’ and a higher state in which they receive direction that they may not receive in their waking state.
Hallowell explains in “Religion, Moral Conduct and Personality,” “the most significant and vital contact between Ojibwa individuals and their other than human ‘grandfathers’ can occur only in one kind of context-the dream state,” (Hallowell 84) and it is this ‘direct contact with other than human persons that we become witness to how powerful the dream world can be for the Ojibwa people-specifically for this young boy and how he was able to protect his grandmother from danger.”
In “He Dreamed that the Sioux Were Coming,” a young boy receives a vision. It is through this vision and the metaphorical play of the young boy’s dreams that the reader becomes privy to the dangers that he perceives the danger his grandmother and him may face when the Sioux come looking for them. While reading the myth/legend there were many questions that I found myself asking. I asked myself if it were not for the vision that the boy encountered in his dream, would the boy have been around afterwards to tell the cautionary tale of danger?
A modern twist on this story, as Alex McKay suggested is “the boy is grinding an ax,” (01/02/2011) and that the storyteller is “telling a story about revenge, and the story may be from the view of his ancestors and what the future can learn from it.” (01/02/2011)
Within the context of this story, we are made aware through this boy’s dream that a place is being threatened. You can take this to be anything that you want it to be- a home, a town, a city, anywhere that you feel comfortable is being threatened in some way or another. I also believe that the grandmother is within the story because in Ojibwa worldview, she plays a revered position- not only as an Elder, but someone who carries a lot of knowledge.
Knowledge keepers in Ojibwa worldview are integral to the carrying on of stories, myths and legends, and I believe the grandmother is placed within the young boy’s dream because she is a respected member not only in his life but also in his community. It is through dreaming and story that we learn, even though we may not understand the origin of our dreams and why we are dreaming what we are.
In contemporary times, besides story/myth and legends that are carried on from our ancestors, there also been the introduction of Native play and performance. I believe that these are still conducive to the Anishinaabe people’s ability to carry on their stories, and make them fit into what is going on in today’s world. All we need to do is look at the performance of the youth in “Dog Ends” that was put on my Marie Gaudet of Red Pepper Spectacle Arts, Heritage Canada and Ciimaan.
Within “Dog Ends,” the teaching can be viewed as a revenge narrative or as Nanabush reminding the dogs about community, being aware of how their actions can affect others and telling them that the respect of others is integral. Though this performance had the teachings of respect within it, and was done in 2010 the significance of what it was trying to relay to the audience is still there, the settings had just changed.
In conclusion, Anishinaabe legends, stories and myth still play a relevant and vital role in Aboriginal communities of today. As Geraldine Manossa stated in her article  “The Beginning of Cree Performance Culture,” “The sharing of cultural knowledge through storytelling is something that occurred prior to contact and perseveres today and continues to shape the realm of Native Performance Culture,”(Manossa 124) and in quoting Favel Starr, Monassa states “Native artists need to continue to develop and maintain a “working practical knowledge of our language, songs, dances, stories and histories” (Manossa 124) because in doing so, “as artists we will continue, like Great-granny to be influenced by a great worldview, reflecting and representing on stage who we are as contemporary Native people.” (Manossa 124)

Works Cited:

Gaudet, Marie. “Dog Ends.” Red Pepper Spectacle Arts, Heritage Canada, and Ciimaan. 2010

Hallowell. A. Irving. “The Ojibwa of Beren Rivers Manitoba-Ethnography into History”.pg. 60-84

McKay. Alex. Native Language and Culture class. January/March 2011. Aboriginal Studies Department. University of Toronto.

Manossa. Geraldine. “The Beginning of Cree Performance Culture.” Aboriginal Drama and Theatre. Ed. Rob Appleford. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2005. Pg. 124

Quill. Norman. 1965. Ed. Charles Fiero. “The moons of winter and other stories.” Red Lake, ON: Northern Light Gospel Mission.

Sugarhead. Cecilia. “Ninoontaan/I Can Hear It: Ojibwe Stories from Lansdowne House.” Memoir 14. Algonquin and Iroquoian Linguistics. 1996

Monday, April 18, 2011

A Memory About Belize

Children in the Village of Hopkins, Belize  Central America

A Memory about Belize:

The cement is hard on my shoes, as I walk about Toronto. There are noises that surround me that make me miss the sand between my toes, the bright sun that shone down upon me, and the stillness of the air around me when I walked on the beach in the village of Hopkins in Belize, Central America.

It seems so long ago, yet it was only two months ago, when I embarked on this journey that took me to a place I yearn to go back to. I miss the village life, where everyone knew one another and there were nods and smiles as you walked the dirt roads throughout the village. By comparison, city life back in Canada is harsh. Noise surrounds you wherever you go. Traffic whizzes by, cars and buses honk their horns, people are lost in their own worlds, with all sorts of technology at their hands, and the friendliness is something you have to actively search for.

As I walk, I cannot help but wonder about days long ago, when our ancestors walked the earth and animals were free to roam around. There were no constraints like there are today. In the village of Hopkins, children ran and played, they had their own games made up; they weren’t fixated on the latest fashions, what was the latest video game or what was the next thing they could purchase. They relied on themselves, a simplicity that has long ago disappeared in our society of today. We have become a society that is obsessed with consuming as much as possible, and not caring what kind of affect it has on those around us.

I miss the impromptu drum session that we had with the Garifuna youth, where everyone gathered, and the children from around the village came and took it all in, while we all laughed, danced and attempted to drum also. I miss the sense of community that surrounded us while we stayed there and I miss my first swim in the ocean while a friend who knew I was scared to swim, stayed by my side and made sure I was okay, and I miss jumping the waves as they came crashing around us, and the laughter when I accidently swallowed sea water and said “I think I have had my quota of salt for the next month or so.”

The cement may be hard on my shoes, as I walk about this city, but there is a smile upon my face, because it’s the memories of Belize and the people I met who made it an opportunity I will never forget.

By: Christine McFarlane

Having a degree behind my name means a lot to me and though I know it does not define who I am, I know that when I hold my degree in my hand after crossing the floor at Convocation Hall, that my degree will represent the struggle, the tears and the triumphs it took to get me to where I am today.

Completing my undergraduate degree is not my first attempt at a post secondary education. Years ago, when I was seventeen years old, I enrolled in college to try and complete a Journalism-Print program but was unable to complete my diploma requirements due to health reasons. I believe that though I had problems beforehand dropping out just made me feel more lost because I did not understand who, what or where my role was in society. I floundered because it had always been drilled into me that education was the key to success. It was dropping out of a post secondary education and having to rely on social assistance that made me feel like I was failure and this made me embark on a path that could have seen me end up elsewhere-another statistic of someone falling through the cracks in our society.

My degree will define the hard work I put into getting it because there were so many times that I believed that I would not make it if it was not for the support I received from First Nations House of the University of Toronto, and the professors I met along the way. Though it is scary to finally be graduating, it is also exciting because I am the first in my biological family to obtain a University education and I know that many doors will open for me now that I have this degree behind me. It will allow me to do the things I have always wanted to do. It will help me find a job and it will give me more autonomy. I am hoping that it also allows me to show my teenage niece that if ‘you work hard enough in something you believe, you can achieve it,’ and lastly I hope that it will show others who have faced adversity and still struggle with where they might go in life, that they can succeed too.”
(though varied a bit, this piece will also be in the upcoming issue of FNH magazine)

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Power of Words:

Words Have More Power Than You Think:
By: Christine McFarlane

Words have power, and it’s the power behind them that I believe makes you want to fight to succeed, or to just give in. Luckily for me, words have played an integral part in my healing journey. Whether that was when I was writing them down in my stories and poems, or listening to them, by my friends and the people in my life I have considered to be mentors.

Words and what stands behind them are an integral part of our healing journeys. I say this because it was for many years that I believed the words of the people in my past who told me “you will go nowhere,” “you will never succeed,” over the people who repeatedly tried to tell me “you just have to believe” “we know that you’re a fighter,” and “you can do anything you set your mind to doing.” Many people who told me this varied from being my elementary school teachers, social workers from when I was in care, to doctors in the mental health system, who told me they could see I was destined for bigger and better things than what I was allowing myself to believe.

Interestingly enough, I had recently been thinking about the power of words and what words can do for you when I heard a professor at the University of Toronto, Dr. Jill Carter say “ we carry responsibility in our words,” and “when we speak we need to ask ourselves am I honoring my ancestors in the way that I am speaking?”

Words hold more power than I think a lot of us want to believe. I could have continued to carry the negative words from the people of my past, and let it deter me from my dreams of returning to post secondary education and getting my degree, or I could choose to let those words go and hang onto the words of the people in my present, who told me “you can do anything.”

In the end, I chose to believe the words of the people who are in my life now. Within words, from the people in my life now, I have learned to live, love, laugh and learn, and within words I learn to continue healing.

What is Knowledge?

        Knowledge is a set of beliefs, values and practices. It encompasses different meaning and things for different people, and it these clashes of definition that divides the Western construct of knowledge from the Indigenous construct.
I believe that in the Western construct, knowledge is based on hypothesis and solution. It is through scientific fact that something has to be proved. Whereas Indigenous knowledge involves the past, present and future and it involves traditional ecological knowledge that is defined as “a body of knowledge built up by a group of people through generations of living in close contact with nature,” and it is “both cumulative and dynamic building upon the experience of earlier generations and adapting to the new technological and socioeconomic changes of the present.”
  Indigenous Knowledge involves knowing your roots, where you come from and it innately tells Indigenous people how to live in a good way or what is called the good life-piimaatsiwin. It is through living the good life that we learn to respect what surrounds us, and this is where I believe the phrase “Kanoohke Weta Kaa Onciyan” (Remember Where You Come From) comes in.
When we remember where we come from, and what our roots are, I believe that is when we have truly come home.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

The Phone Call (a first attempt at fiction writing)

The Phone Call:
By: Christine McFarlane

I am in a deep sleep. In the distance I hear the sound of my cell phone ringing.
RING…RING…RING. I don’t want to get up to answer it. I just want to sleep. The
incessant ringing though makes me finally open my eyes, crawl out of my bed and
reach for my glasses.

As I am putting them on I look at the time. It is 3 a.m. I wonder who can be calling at
this gawd awful time. My heart starts to thump, fear registers in my foggy brain, as I
cross my room and pick up my phone. I flip it open, squinting to see if its a number I
recognize. Its not-but I figure I had better answer it anyways.

“Hello? Hello?” I say rather crossly.

A chirpy voice says“Hello, is this Christine McFarlane?”

“Yes, it is, why are you calling me at this dreadful hour?”

I am thinking to myself, this had better be a damn emergency! There is silence on
the other end of the phone for a few seconds and then the person says

“I’m sorry for calling at this hour, but I have some news to tell you and it couldn’t
wait until morning.”

My mind races as I wonder who the hell this could be! I’m inclined to hang up, but
then I think- what if there has been an accident? I take a deep breath and brace
myself for the worst. I am surprised though when I am told..

“Christine, I’m Cheryl, a representative with the Windsor Casino. I’m calling on
behalf of your sister Marjory. Your sister has just won Megabucks in the amount of
13 million dollars, and she wants you to be here when she picks up her monies.”

I start to laugh. “Yeah right,” I say rather curtly into the phone.
“This must be some type of joke!” I say.

“This isn’t a joke Christine,” She sounds annoyed because I’m not taking her
seriously.. I hear the exasperation in her tone of voice.

I’m impatient. Its 3am, and I could be sleeping. I growl...GRR and then say

“Listen, I want to speak to my sister right now !”

“I’m sorry” Cheryl says, “Your sister asked me to call for her.”

“We want to send a limo to pick you up, but we don’t know your address or where
you are.”

“Why?” I ask the lady “should I tell you where I live when you won’t put my sister on
the phone?”

The voice on the other end then says “To be honest with you, your sister can’t come
to the phone because she is with our people right now filling out some forms and
getting ready for her photo op.”

“The media is all over this win, because we haven’t had anyone win in quite
awhile,”she rushes to tell me, as though she innately knows that I am going to hang
up on her, if she doesn’t explain herself fast.

Mumbling under my breath, ‘oh for God sakes,’ I reluctantly say “ well what the hell
do you want from me?”

“We need your address Christine, that’s all. We want to send a limo to pick you up.
This will all be courtesy of Windsor Casino,”

“You’re sure I don’t have to pay for this?” I ask, while thinking about the twenty
dollars I have to my name in my bank account, and the shiny new credit card that
arrived in the mail the other day but I haven’t yet activated.

“No, you don’t, its on us,” Cheryl says

“Well, okay” I say.

Though all this sounds mysterious to me. something inside tells me not to hang up,
to cooperate with this lady on the other side of the line. I shake my head, hoping the
cobwebs will clear. I run my fingers through my hair and find myself telling the lady

“I live at 2 Mount Clair Road. Its in downtown Toronto.” and “I will come as long as I
get to talk to my sister as soon as she is done with your people”

Cheryl’s voice raises an octave, “ Okay Christine, we will be there shortly!

“There is a phone in the limo that you can use, but in the meantime feel free to call
whoever you want to let them know about your sister’s win!”

“Okay, talk to you later, Christine” Cheryl says.

I hear a click and then the dial tone on the other end. I hang up my own phone and
take a deep breath, cursing as I turn around because I almost fall over the fan that is
sitting in the middle of my floor.

“Damn I am tired,” I think to myself as I run my fingers through my hair. I can’t go
back to sleep now. The phone call has me wide-awake now and I start thinking
about all the things I have to do to get ready. Oh my god, Oh my god, I have to
shower, have a couple of coffees, have a cigarette, and figure out what the hell to

A million questions start surging through my brain. I wonder, how long will I be
away from my apartment, will I have to let my landlord know that something has
come up and I have to be away?

Grunting in frustration, I busy myself around my apartment. It seems like I have
been puttering around my apartment forever-I look at my watch, the digital
numbers that are glaring out at me say 6am. All of a sudden, there’s a loud knock
outside my door.

“Oh shit!” I say to myself, they’re here.

I am trying to be quiet so as not to wake the rest of the building, but it is no use-the
knocking at the side door gets louder, and in my rush to get to the door I trip on the
stairs, the lights come on, and I hear footsteps.

A loud voice yells “What the hell is going on, I’m trying to sleep!”

My heart thumps as I say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”.

I pick myself up off the floor and run to the door. BANG...the door slams behind me.
A great big black limo is waiting at the curb. It seems out of place, this fancy car.
You usually only see delivery trucks in my neighborhood because where I live is
surrounded by restaurants and seedy looking bars.

I hop into the waiting limo. The driver turns around and says
“I will drive as fast as I can. The phone is right there in front of you, you can call your
sister or whoever you want.”

As I sink into the soft leather of the backseat in the limo, and go to pick up the car
phone in front of me, I realize- in my rush to get out of my apartment building, I had
left behind my bag. I’m just about to tell the driver this when all of a sudden I hear


I shake my head and sit up. I realize that this was all a dream.

( my first attempt at fiction, its a work in progress)