Campbell River, British Columbia
We welcome a column in the form of poems and stories written by students of Timberline Secondary School.
These students are from Justus Havelaar's writing class, and have many of their works published on their own website.
With their permission we have posted just a sample here with a link to their site if you wish to read more of the class's work.

The Wink
By Josh Gable


The wink had been a seductive one. It was like a theatre curtain lowering and then rising again. Then she walked out of the store. I nearly dropped Good Fellas on my foot; I was in shock; I was in love; five
minutes before, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen had walked into the video store. She was with some friends and they were looking around for a movie. Me and Marshall had been standing, at the counter attempting to inform an abrasive twelve year old that he owed us 10 bucks in late charges for a Playstation game when I noticed her. She was in the comedy section, just looking around. Her friends were in drama or horror or something. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she ran over to her friends.

"Guys," she said, " we have to rent this movie." A girl in a blue coat took the box. Brain Candy? she read.
My heart skipped a beat, this beautiful sensuous young woman was going to rent Brain Candy, a movie which definitely made my top twenty and possibly my top ten favorite movies of all time. What made it even more special was that it signified a certain sense of humor. After all Brain Candy isn't a film of universal appeal.

"I don't know. Summer?" her friend said, " I kind of want to see a drama." The perfect vision that was Summer then slowly made her way into the drama section. "Here," she said. "How about Welcome to the Dollhouse or The Elephant Man?" Dear God I almost fainted dead away. The friend looked at the box of Welcome to the Dollhouse. "Isn't this a comedy?" she asked. "Well, sort of," Summer said. "It's kind of a little bit of both." "Oh," she said, "well it looks better than the other two."

 My God, they were heading towards the counter, Marshall's counter...Shit…no...she thought Marshall was hot. Of course; why not? They always do, not that he was a bad guy but he didn't know shit about movies. The only good stuff he liked was Jackie Chan and even then only First Strike and Rush Hour. For the love of God, he didn't even like Sean Connery as James Bond. You can't go to the counter of a man who thinks Timothy Dalton is a better James Bond than Sean Connery. So, in a act of desperation, I tripped him. He was somewhat upset but I didn't care, I ran over to help him and quickly explained the situation to him. He gave me a look like," I'll get you later" and went over to my counter.

"How may I help you ladies?" I asked. My god, what a stupid thing to say."How may I help you ladies?" How old was I, forty? Besides, why ask that stupid question? Of course I knew what they wanted.

"We'd like to rent this movie," she said, smiling.

"Sure," I said. " Oh, this is an awesome movie. I've seen it like.." Don't say 'four times' you'll look like a dork... "Twice, really good." Now why the hell wouldn't I just say,"Oh I've seen it twice. It was so good?" But no, King Dumbass doesn't do things that way.

"Oh, this is only my second time seeing it," she said."just love it."

"I think it's the quirkiness," I answer back. Quirky? What the hell was I thinking? Who says 'quirky' anymore?

"Exactly," she says, "It's so weird, like what decade is it supposed to be in?"

"I have no idea," I say smiling."Here you go"

 I put the movie in a bag. Just as I'm walking over to the counter on the other side of the shop-lifting sensors, Marshall gets me back. I trip. The movie bounces out of my hands and goes right between the sensors. The store erupts in sirens and a cold, computer like voice repeats, " Stop! Remove the merchandise from your person." In one somewhat fluid Chow Yun Fat motion I vault over the counter and remove the film, handing it to Summer. She takes it from me and smiles. "nice," She says, and winks, leaving the store and probably my life forever.

That is, until Friday, when she has to return the movie.

Storm
By Jen Bennett

It rained last night.
My mom went out.
The doorbell rang,
it was you,
soaking wet,
I let you in,
lent you a towel.
You played for a while,
I sat and watched,
followed your hands
and heard you sing,
looked into your eyes
and wished.
You looked into my eyes
and I wondered.
The headlights flashed
through the window
and you ran out
into the storm.
I hung the towel on the rack
and smiled.

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