Motion Sickness (standard:drama, 2594 words)
Author: Giovanni	Added: Apr 13 2001	Views/Reads: 3849/2247	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
In a small town a little girl who wants nothing more than to play as a child does is forced to master the piano. her father who is too busy slaving away his life at work, afraid of his wife doesn't pay enough attention to his virtuoso daughter, till it is

The one way sign visible from across Creed Avenue, had become hardly
recognizable, even to the most reliable eye. A speckled green paint 
distorted the E so much that it seemed to read ON WAY - but where that 
was seemed to bode an unsettling thought for those possessing the most 
chipper natures. The biased traffic light on the next corner flickered 
so quickly between colors that pedestrians mistrusted it, carefully 
observing its eyes changing color from red to green, without a switch 
to yellow. It was not just the sign or the traffic light that portrayed 
Camden to be sickly; the surrounding region appeared to have a plague 
which was gnawing at its fabric: the population. This illness was not 
age or gender biased however, as Little Linda sought a daily escape out 
of her town, into a world of toys. 

Linda was slightly past six and loved to play with toys, but was
absolutely mad about becoming one, resembling a china doll facially and 
spiritually, with little button eyes, very light pinkish cheeks and a 
smattering of freckles just on her lower chin. While most kids used 
their dolls to mimic Big People, Linda found solace in a domain where 
toys were aware of themselves as being toys, playing in a world of 
anti-reality. Why would she want to play with dolls that struggled to 
make dry pot roasts for dinner guests, wept watery tears and fell 
victim to mortgage payments, even if she did not know the consequences 
and the meanings of these big people issues? She knew enough to 
recognize the bland and insipid facial contours of her dad when he sat 
down to eat dinner, alone in his room. She rarely visited him while he 
was eating. A first rate, first grade outcast Linda wanted no part of 
the Big People world, wanting instead to preserve the hearts of her 
stuffed toys, by shielding them from that blemish of adulthood that 
could forever leave an irreversible blemish on them, though she did not 
realize this yet. Linda believed that Big People like her mommy and 
daddy had grimaces glued to their faces and that moans and groans were 
part of the grown up language. 

Linda went everywhere with her trusty straggly haired doll Miles, who
spoke eight languages, soon to acquire a ninth, as Linda had been 
teaching him Urdu, which her only friend from school spoke fluently 
having recently moved from Deli. While muttering under her breath 
dropping her daughter off to school Linda's mother insisted that her 
daughter stop teaching her doll Hindu. Both Linda and her mother were 
unaware of the underlying political underpinnings that classified the 
near identical tongues apart, Hindi and Urdu [not Hindu which was the 
religion]. 

Despite Linda's belief that Big People spent all their time stating the
laws of Big People, do this do that and because I said so, both her 
parents spent their time looking back toward youth for guidance and 
support. Her mother, Janette, just had a facelift for her milestone 
fortieth. Leland, her father, approaching his thirty-eighth birthday 
was forced to give up one of his few pleasures in life, scarfing down 
baby back ribs and mashed potatoes with gravy at Ponderosa's. He licked 
his chops at the mere thought of bacon bits and shredded cheddar cheese 
on his gravy soaked potatoes. He had a spare tire for a gut and an 
ulcer inside it. To make matters worse his wife constantly stuck Men's 
health articles from People's Digest on his desk. With the few 
pleasures in his life he might as well have been a cutting out the ribs 
from his chest than from his dinner. He rolled up a recent article into 
a ball that she'd cut out and took a hook shot into his wastebasket. 
His exceedingly high stack of papers on his desk, smelled like a bunch 
of flapjacks to Leland, making him dizzily hungry. It looked like a 
large deck of cards from a far to Linda, which did not go over well 
with her mother, stressing that it was a grave matter, her father's 
lack of will power and Janette also admonished her daughter for having 
too vivid an imagination. 

The next morning, the day, Leland was about to give a monster
presentation he swallowed his Imodium, washing it down with ginger ale, 
before getting up from the table. 

"Daddy, are you going to take me to school today", Linda asked. 

"Sorry Pumpkin. Gotta run." 

"But you haven't taken me in weeks." 

"Tomorrow, look we'll talk later OK Pumpkin," he said walking out the


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