Themes: Death, Absurdity of Life, Anxiousness, Alienation

Existential Stories 2016-17

Characters: Soldier (Absurdity/Death/Alienation), Bartender(Responsibility), Struggling Writer (Passion) (all unnamed)

Plot outline: Soldier enters bar, can’t decide what to drink/eat, talks to bartender about rumors of war brutality (soldier likely to die), writer joins in and talks about hope and purpose (soldier has none), soldier focuses on people in bar: some playing a new game, looking at social media, etc., soldier points out pointlessness in himself becoming passionate about things because of impending death

The Soldier in the Bar-Dan Hawbaker

As the sun began to set into the horizon, a soldier entered the bar. The soldier sat down at the counter as the bartender cleaned glasses at the counter. The bartender finished his cleaning and approached the soldier.

“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked.

“I’m not sure,” the man said while looking over the selection of drinks.

“Well, we have plenty of options for you to pick from.”

“I’m not really sure what I want.”

“Got a lot on your mind?” the bartender asked.

“I’m being deployed tomorrow,” the soldier said. Both of them were silent for a moment.

“Oh.” Another moment of silence ensued.

“It’s just . . . I’ve heard so many rumors and stories about being on the front lines. Some people have told me that only half of the guys deployed make it out alive. How can I be calm when I’m told things like that?”

“Take it easy, kid. I get how yafeelin’. That’s just how the world is. Everyone’s got something that’s troublin’ them. We all got problems.” For a second, both of them sat awkwardly. “So why join the service? Or were you selected?”

“I joined. I wasn’t sure what else to do with my future,” the soldier said in a melancholy voice.

“That’s okay. Lot’s of people aren’t sure either. You just have to find something to lead your way. Find a purpose.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“I know. My interest was in business, and now I run my own bar. The point is that you have to do what you want to do.” The bartender started taking orders from customers.

The soldier say by himself for a few moments, but then another young man walked up to the stool next to him. “He’s right, you know.”

“Excuse me?” the soldier asked.

“The bartender’s got it figured out. He knew what he want and he went for it.”

“Were you listening to our conversation?”

“I was just a few seats over,” the man answered. “Anyways, I’m kind of on the same path he was taking. I’m pursuing what I love.”

“What’s that?”

“Writing. Creating interesting stories are my passion. Nothing else brings me as much joy as putting pen to paper and making people smile.”

“Oh, have I read anything of yours?” the soldier asked.

“Well . . . no. I’m still working on my books, but they are coming along. It’ll be great. I’ll be the most well known writer in the world!” The writer was grinning, but the soldier still appeared distraught.

“When did you start writing?”

“Throughout school, we did a lot of writing, and I found it interesting. I didn’t think of it much until a few years ago.” The writer stopped and looked down at the floor.

“What happened?” the soldier asked. Two men sat in silence for a while.

“My mother died of cancer.” There was more silence between the two. “She developed pancreatic cancer a few months beforehand, but no one noticed any symptoms until it was too late.” There was a pause. “But that’s another reason I write. To distract me from the pain, the cold reality.”

“Maybe I should take up an interest to distract me from my problems,” the soldier mumbled.

“Lots of people do. How can you be sad about something when you don’t think about it?” The soldier looked around the bar for a moment. There were plenty of people going out tonight. The bar was lined with customers willing to purchase beer and top-shelf drinks. Others were talking with their colleagues and getting acquainted with strangers. A few people were huddled together, playing a newly-released game. Everyone was content living in the now and not thinking about the future ahead of them. What was the point of developing hobbies of his own? The end of his world could potentially happen within the next week. Playing games or drinking wouldn’t solve that. Why would people do this to themselves? Was it to create a false sense of security to hide from the truth?

“We’ll see what happens.” The soldier got up and walked away from the counter. He glanced back at the people in the bar as he headed for the door. The drinkers, the gamers, the conversationalists. He thought to himself about how pointless it all was. It wasn’t worth the distraction. No matter how much the future scared him, he had to face it.

Shapeless Mountains – Emma Meeker

The frigid mountain air bit at my bare skin as I reluctantly rolled out of my sleeping bag, back into the harsh reality of today's adventure. Dreaming sounded nice. Warm toes, steady breaths, easy hearts. It was all clear in the warm concealments of the round canvas.

Today was the day.

We had been planning this trip for the last month, down to the smallest detail. Work was taken care of, the dogs were fed, all that was left was to put our skills to the test. It was a steep ascent, up Peak-a Peak, bearable without ropes and harnesses, complementary to our skill level.

The sun was just rising out of the east. Blue sky and no breeze, it was a perfect morning to ascend the pass. Locals told us it was about a three hour vertical climb to the summit; our goal was to do it in two.

Zach checked his day pack for the seventh time. Granola bars, water bottle, first aid kit and camera.

“Why did you bring so many granola bars”

“Why do you care, you’re not the one carrying them”

Most of the morning was spent bickering. Wasting time. Both of us were reluctant to actually begin the steep trek up the mountain.

Our plan was to start towards the right side of the pass, along the small creek. It was steep, very steep. At last, we started on our way. The past month of planning finally mixing with our present accomplishments.

The journey began.

One step at a time my mind carefully navigated my feet up the large boulders. Stepping from rock to rock, terrified of taking a wrong step and being flown, backwards, down the mountain; I took caution.

The sun’s rays began to beat down heavily on our naked necks. Our sensitive cells were soon covered in a in a thin layer of sweat. We were exhausted. Stopping once again for a water break we realized, opening our Nalgenes, that we were running out of altitudes treasured liquid.

Exhausted. We had reached our two hour mark. I looked at Zach. We were just over half way.

“We’re not going to make it”

I leaned up against a large overhanging shaft; much taller than me. Taking a deep breath i glanced around at the surrounding mountains. They appeared shapeless, almost as if they weren't there at all, a desired victory. Made up of several shapes taunting us as our backs were stiff and breathing coarse.

Looking down towards our base camp i remembered the warm sleeping bag i left this morning; the energy i had as i thought of the journey ahead.

I shivered in distaste.

Stuck With Acceptance- Emma Sauld

“Do you want to go hunt or should we wait a few more days?” Marty asked Roofus. Roofus just sat there with his head tilted slightly to the left. Living in the natural world in Alaska meant hunting before winter. It is necessary to stock up on meat to have protein for the winter months.

Marty knew he needed to get enough meat to last himself and Roofus a few months. Every year They would both go out a few days or even weeks before the winter season and hunt. They would hunt caribou, moose, and any other animals that would provide a good amount of meat.

“Maybe we should try waiting until the first snowfall. That way we can track animals using the snow.” Again, Roofus just sat there. Although this time he tilted his head to the right. In past years they would go hunting before winter. This time, Marty decided to try waiting. “Well, it’s settled. We shall wait.”

The rest of the day consisted of collecting firewood. They cut down fourteen trees, all ranging in size. They would continue by cutting the trees into logs and the logs into quarters, sometimes halves if the logs were smaller. When the wood was cut, they would put it in a neat pile under a sheltered area.

A few days later the first snowfall occurred. This snowfall, however, was larger than expected. It was a blizzard. Trying to open his door, Marty became frustrated. “Why...won’t...it...BUDGE?!” The door was a push door and there was too much snow for it to move. It would not even move a fraction of an inch. Marty looked for a different way outside. He looked around the room and saw Roofus half asleep on the bed.

The window, he thought, I can get out through the window. And so he did. At this point Roofus was awake. He perched himself up onto the windowsill and watched as Marty climbed out into the fast, flying, and freezing snow. He watched as Marty grabbed a few quarters of wood and food. As Marty climbed back inside, Roofus got down and backed up, letting him enter the house. Marty shut the window and as he did Roofus spoke. “That’s right buddy,” Marty said as he kneeled in front of Roofus. “We are going to have to wait this one out.” Roofus snuck his nose under Marty’s hand, which had been resting on his knee. “It should subside soon,” and he began to pet Roofus.

The house, located at the base of Mount Hesperus, was surrounded by rolling hills and dense forests. The house was isolated.

For days the blizzard continued. The snow grew higher and higher. One night Marty woke to Roofus pacing and growling in the middle of the room. He could also hear a rumbling coming from outside. He suspected a bear or some other predator. He approached and put his hands on the door but then remembered it was useless. The door wouldn’t move, so he went to the window. He peered out into the night. Expecting to see snow flying fiercely or the calm starry night sky, but he saw neither. All he saw was black. A very cold black. He moved his head closer to the glass and put his hand on his forehead to focus his vision. Marty soon realized, he was looking at snow.

There had been an avalanche in the night. The rumbling was not an animal but snow. It was snow covering their house and burying them. “Well…” Marty’s mind was empty. He made his way back to his bed slowly. He patted the covers and Roofus jumped up and curled up at his feet. Marty tried to think. How could they keep warm now? A fire could not be built. If they built one, it would devour the oxygen they had and the smoke would have nowhere to go but to live with them.

The next day Marty clearly saw the snow covering the window. The room was dark except for the little bit of sunlight that seeped through the thick layers of snow. It was at this point Marty knew it was going to be a short winter and there was nothing he could do.

Several days passed and supplies were becoming scarce. There was only enough food to last them each two days, if rationed properly.

Should I? No! I can’t. But he’s food...Are you insane?! He is your best friend! Marty, starving, started to debate with himself on whether he should sacrifice Roofus for his own survival needs. He looked into Roofus’ eyes. Those shiny black yet promising eyes staring back at him. Roofus scratched his ear for a minute. “You will be safe. I promise.” Marty bent down, hugged and pet Roofus. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” A single tear fell. “Not as long as I am alive.”

Five days passed and both Marty and Roofus were freezing and starving. The food had run out and body heat was no longer enough. With food and heat gone, they both just laid in bed together. Shivering, Marty held Roofus in his arms. “It will be okay.” Marty remained calm. He seemed more worried about Roofus than himself. “Tomorrow is a new day. Go day by day and you will survive. Stay strong.” Marty had never been so cold.

Since there was no longer sunlight seeping through the thick layers of snow, he assumed the sun had left and the moon had arrived. He lit a single candle next to his bed. The flame, blue burned very low providing little light. Marty crawled under his blankets which did not provided heat. With the movement caused by Marty, Roofus stirred but remained in his best friend’s arms.

Freezing in his bed, Marty put a hand on Roofus’ head. Roofus put a paw on Marty’s chest. “Goodnight,” Marty said as he blew out the candle. The candle went out and it became black. A very cold black.

In Town

Bridget Motiff

The fire crackled in the wood stove as Walden gathered more logs and stacked them near the stove. He got up to start preparing dinner for both himself and his four legged friend, Cricket. As he was making their food he noticed he was running low on a few items and thought about how he’d have to make a run into town soon. He hated going into town. It always took a full day just to run errands plus he saw more and more about what was happening to the world around him.

He decided he would have to go into town tomorrow because the day after that he was planning on going out in the forest and hauling logs in that he could split and then add to his stack of wood for the stove. He couldn’t go the day after that either because there were vegetables that needed to be picked and canned.

Walden cleaned up from dinner and did his nightly chores. He packed a lunch for his trip tomorrow with the leftovers he had. He also filled up two bottles of water and packed everything he would need into his backpack because he knew he would be too tired in the morning and was likely to forget something important if he waited. He set his pack by the door, threw a couple more logs on the fire, and made sure Cricket was in for the night.

Walden crawled into bed and Cricket took her place on the floor next to him. As Walden was drifting off to sleep he could hear the sound of a pack of coyotes howling to each other, owls in the distance calling back and forth and frogs croaking near the stream . It comforted him in his hazy state because that meant he was on the right track for his goal, to sustain the forest ecosystem around him.

The rooster crowed early in the morning and that was Walden’s signal to get up. He rose, got dressed and went outside to feed the chickens and goats. Cricket was always right by his side the whole time. They came back inside and Walden gave Cricket her breakfast and fried himself some eggs. As he ate he thought out the route he would take into town. It was approximately 30 miles so on his bike it usually took him around 2 hours to get there. He wanted to leave soon, before the sun rose too high and the temperature became too warm.

He gathered up his backpack and water and then came his least favorite part, tying Cricket up so she wouldn’t follow him. It was too far for her but he knew if he left her lose she would follow him until she could no longer walk. As he started off Cricket gave two sharp barks, as if she was saying “Come back.”

The end of the summer season was a beautiful time and Walden actually enjoyed this part of the trip. He got to see the extent of his beautiful forest. He saw squirrels, a porcupine, many little songbirds and even a few deer.

The halfway mark for his journey to town was when the lush forest turned into grassy hills and fields. Here there were farms and more people living here scattered throughout the hills. Only 10 more miles to go.

As he pedaled into town he remembered why he hated coming here. Everything had a gray and dirty tinge to it and there was the smell of cars and the paper mill that the town happened to be home to. He always tried to avoid that part of town.

The first item on his list was to get groceries. Although he tried to be mostly self-sustaining in his forest home, there were just some things that he couldn’t make himself and also things he needed to preserve food. After gathering everything from the grocery he made his way to the hardware store. After much debating about the proper things to get, he loaded the few supplies he needed into the basket on the back of his bike.