Third person narration of a man at a bus stop who has recently learned that his son has died, violently

The ground holds nothing. It's just dirt. The grass and dead bits of branch; nothing either. Roots of a tree look like veins in the skin of earth, they're empty too. Pale green spots, dry and flaking like sclerosis on its trunk, look like camouflage. The noise of cars are dying groans, roaring, rumbling engines. The bus is here, the man is going home.

Sensational story told as though it were no more extraordinary that someone picking up a stone on the side of the road.

- Passengers welcome aboard US Airways flight 1549. It’s our pleasure to have you aboard today and we hope you’ll have a pleasant flight.
I turned on the runway, waited 4 minutes for Continental plane to budge, then started accelerating.
Plane reached take-off speed, I pulled on the yoke and lifted the plane. Always my favorite part.
We ascend; 6000 ft., 7000. I see a bird hit my window. I lift the plane higher. Bad noises, like electric shaver and wood chipper. Lost both engines.
- Yeah this is uh Cactus 1539, hit birds, lost thrust in both engines. We’re turning back towards LaGuardia.
- Ok, yeah you need to head back to LaGuardia, turn left heading of uh, 2-2-0.
- 2-2-0.
- Cactus 1539, if we can get it for you, you wanna try to land on runway 1-3
- Unable. I think we may end up in the Hudson.
- Alright Cactus 1539, there’s gonna be less traffic to runway 3-1.
- Unable
I tuned him out, no use in talking.
I turned left and headed for the river. Lot of people screaming behind me. I align myself above the Hudson, it is full of water, but the principle is identical – land evenly.
I land like I always have; even.

“Incident worth Forgetting”

As a boy I was constantly worried about germs. I washed my hands many times a day and never liked to touch door handles of any kind, or desks, or even other students. I could not eat lunch with people who spoke strongly as I would have terrible visions of their saliva falling into my food making it totally contaminated and inedible. In addition the person from whom the saliva came made a great deal of difference to me. If it was the saliva of someone that I didn’t care for, then the food would still be contaminated by their touch or spit, if it was someone that I liked very much than I would not mind their saliva at all and perhaps even take some pride in swallowing it, but if it was someone that I disliked their bodies and all things associated with it would be utterly repulsive, and my disgust would drive me to a feverish sort of panic.
At this age, I was 6 or 7 years old, each student had to participate in a music class for which we all played the recorder – a simple wind instrument. On a very warm day I stood on line in front of my least favorite person in all of Willard Elementary School, Keith. We all stood, tooting on our recorders, waiting on line to enter the music room where we were all used to playing. I remember turning around, and seeing Keith playing his recorder and then convulsing suddenly. He unleashed what I believed was a viscous spray or the most vile glop, diseased and highly infectious. I was so disgusted that I could not realistically interpret what had happened. I believed that he had in fact blown his nose - very successfully - onto my face. He had in fact sneezed; in either case I was terribly disturbed and took many hours to recover. This is surely a memory which deserves forgetting.

'Subverting Stereotypes'

Stereotypes:
1. Pretty, superficial, smiley, self-absorbed, ‘preppy’, female. Usually portrayed as Blonde and associates herself with people of identical qualities.
a) Subvert by making her a very fine artist of the renaissance style.
2. Uptight, ‘evil’, highly religious schoolteacher. Usually portrayed with her hair in a bun, glasses, and a harsh voice.
a) Subvert by making her a lesbian.
3. Jock.
a) Subvert by making him an animal rights activist.
4. Sensitive, lugubrious poet.
a) Make him very playful – unserious – and un-self-absorbed.
5. Stupid, evil polititian. Usually portrayed as a pawn to other political masterminds, usually has a very thick southern accent.
a) Subvert by making him a member of the Whig party.

'Hometown Incident'

From the top of a hill can be seen a long and winding road, reaching out like a great arm through the center of a village, its many fingers a collection of smaller roads lined with restaurants, banks, a library, and at its palm a large town square. I lived at the shoulder of this village – though it was hardly bald - the town is covered with trees, like a very fine sweater, protecting it. Now you’ll understand from where its name comes; Ridgewood.
On an evening on a finger, near the library, I sat with a girl. Both of us, quite young, I being sixteen and her only seventeen, talked on the small front lawn of a banquet hall. “You know, it’s weird,” I said, “I don’t know Paul very well at all, I wonder why he invited my to his birthday party.” The girl, Gabrielle, smiled tenderly, “I got you invited to this party so that I could see you.”
“That is weird,” I said. Very little time passed before she and I were lying on that lawn, necking. After a few minutes she started asking, “Do you like me, do you like me?” I must confess I was rather devoid of emotion at that moment, but just guilty enough to mutter “getting there,” which soon became “a bit,” and then, “yeah”. And at the last, I really did.

'Want' Scene

The bad news:
Thelma Dudley has just received a letter from her lover – Minna – telling her that she will be unable to break away from her responsibilities in Sweden and cannot take a flight – as was planned – out to see her. Thelma sits at her piano and sulks, not touching a single key. Suddenly her press agent walks in with a horde of photographers.

“Selma Darling, 3 pictures and we’ll be out, you know how it is, come here ma belle, allez venez!” Said Maurice Petro.
Thelma sits quietly and still at her piano, her back turned towards the door which is spewing out photographers and reporters.
Maurice shoos them out and walks over to Thelma. “Thelma, ma belle, Que’est ce qui se passe? Do you want some water?”
“Water? What I should want…is for you to die today you lousy lilliputians! All of you, get out, get out! I’m not your dog anymore, when you say ‘come’ I will snarl and bark at you!” Selma runs into the farther room clutching at her hair and beating her temples.
Maurice approaches the door and hears Tchaikovsky’s 4th blaring. “Thelma, open the door. Please, Thelma.”
Thelma searches frantically for glasses and pill jars. “Thelma!” Maurice shouts and runs to the others in the apartment, “I don’t know what’s happened but I am sure Thelma is not well and we must break down her door quickly, allez!”
Thelma is stuffing pills into her mouth and washing them down with gulps of whisky while clutching a letter opener.
Maurice and the others manage to bust through the lock on the door and rush over to Thelma who is already prepared, hunched like some untamed creature of the forest, the letter opener poised for attack.
Maurice and the two other men with him flank Thelma and wrestle her knife away. “Thelma” Maurice says while holding her down, “What has happened to you? Who did this to you?”
“You!” She exclaims and collapses in a heap of tears.

Thelma Dudley 'Character Revealing Action'

“All hail Thelma, La donna brillante!” Said Maurice Petro. The cheer of Thelma’s guests surged around her like a great wave as glasses were raised with such enthusiasm as to rain down upon her table a shower of Chardonnay. Thelma smiled. “And much cuter than that other Donna!” She replied, “Maurice, I want a cake, can you get me a cake? with a big glittery hat please, I’d like to feel like a princess on my birthday. Waiter, bring me a big cake and a hat and some dancing girls!” “Anything for you ma belle,” Maurice replied.
“Thelma, what about opus 111, do you plan on re-recording it now that those new micro-,” “Shut up, Elize. Maurice, when is Minna arriving? I thought she was to arrive here by 7 and it is now 8. Did you send over that dufus driver again, he’s probably stopped somewhere to use the bathroom and forgot how to flush?” “Ah, yes, ma belle, I must have forgot to tell you; Minna called us a few hours ago it seems that she will be unable to make it tonight, but you have all your other friends here and I’m sure we can have just as much fun without her. Besides, look at that Daniel over there doesn’t he look just ravishing tonight? And I heard he might be interested in keeping you company all night, would you like me to arrange for you a special room for you? Themla?”
Thelma looked down through her glass of Chardonnay and listened for a moment to the throng of guests gathered around her, Suddenly, she gets up and begins to walk away. One of her guests calls to her as she is taking her first steps from the table, “Oh Thelma, while you’re up why don’t you tell the parton to put on ‘Marche Des Jolies Femmes’ so we can all dance?”
“’Joli Femmes’ you fucking tart why don’t you ask him yourself and stop painting your face like ‘Une joli pute qui marche la rue’.” and with that Thelma snatched up her coat and walked towards the door of the resturaunt hunched like the lone ringer of some church bell.