This is a perpetual story that I will be writing live. Would love your input. You can help me write it!
Cold, tired, and hungry, she entered the freezing drizzle. “Damn it’s cold,” she thought, as the rain quickly chilled her to the bone. She couldn’t remember when the last time was that she had a good hot meal. She needed a hand, a compassionate soul to come along. Still, Tweety had to avoid patrols that would mean certain death.
On the streets for so long, she was beginning to forget what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, long enough for her ribs to begin to show. She was a part of a big happy family, or so she thought: three brothers and two sisters, Tweety was the “runt” of the crew, petite and maybe a tad bit odd looking. Still, that was no reason for neglect, or flat out abandonment. Anyway, she was on her own now. It was up to her to survive.
Forging on through the damp night, she had been there too long already, exhausted all food supplies, and no help was going to find her in this desolate place. She ventured down the sidewalk, praying that no uniforms attempting to earn their stripes would spot her. In the distance were lights: signs of human inhabitants. Hope long since diminished, they offered the slight possibility of salvation.
Slowly approaching, the scent of home cooking filled the air, only making her stomach growl in complaint. Even a scrap would do, the leftovers from some gluttonous plate. Crossing the paved entrance, her feet soaked from puddles along the way, Tweety headed for the rear of this strip in search of an open rear entrance. The smell of smoked barbecue could not be mistaken, as plumes exited the roof.
Around the corner, in luck, she spotted the propped open screen door: the place for workers to take a quick drag while performing garbage detail. Glancing through the soiled screen, nobody in sight, Tweety quietly nudged through the entrance into the narrow corridor. Hearing voices, she quickly vanished into the shadows.
Just ten feet within her reach, she spotted that which she had longed so much for: slabs of freshly grilled ribs, chops, and chicken. There was no way she could simply beg for a hand out, she’d be thrown out before savoring a single bite, the door slamming shut behind her. Tweety would have to pick her moment, steal what she could, hopefully not dropping it while scurrying away with her treasure.
She carefully eyed her target, a full rack of baby back ribs, swimming in sauce, waiting for the opportunity. There was only one thing standing in her way, a very large, scruffy looking, pot-bellied man with a shiny meat cleaver in his hands.
“Sam,” a voice broke the silence, “I need a rack with beans and slaw on the side.”
“Alright,” he groaned with a loud thwack! the blade severing the bones. Grabbing a plate from the top of the stack, the man slid the ribs onboard, slopping a large helping of coleslaw and baked beans. A piece of garlic toast on top, Tweety’s mouth began to water. Wiping a trail of sauce from his lips with his shirt sleeve, plate in hand, he headed towards the front.
It was now or never, maybe Tweety’s only chance. In a bolt, with all the speed she could muster, she came out of the shadows, feet kicking the pail next to the table. In one quick swoop she was on the table, ribs dangling from her mouth.
“Hey!, What the hell!, I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!”
With pounding footsteps on her heals, Tweety didn’t need to look back to realize the danger. She could envision that cleaver in the large man’s hands coming down, cutting her in two. With a Bang! against the screen, she was out the door, running for her life. She didn’t slow down until she hit the end of the alley, and then only because she was totally spent.
Rounding the corner, she heard a very faint voice, not a threatening one. It had a kind but weak tone to it. “Nice move,” came the sound.
“What?” Tweety replied, dropping her catch, turning her head to catch a glimpse.
“Good going I said. I’ve been scoping out that place for days but couldn’t figure out how to pull it off”
Tweety carefully approached the shadows to investigate. There she was, curled into a ball, nothing but skin and bones, barely the strength to move. “Who are you?” Tweety inquired.
“My name is Chichi Rodriguez. I don’t suppose you could spare just a scrap? I haven’t eaten since I can remember.”
Hesitating to reply, Tweety knew too well what it was like to be hungry. She could also use a friend in this lonely world. Having plenty to go around, She tore the slab in half and plopped down beside Chichi. Starving, both of them scarfed down the feast in silence, occasionally looking up between swallows. Little did they know that this small act of kindness would create a lifelong bond. This would begin their destiny of adventure together.
Well, I’ve officially written the introductory chapter and will continue this story as an ongoing project.
I would love to have your input. Send me your comments and you can help me write it. Where would you like this tale to go?