Twista

Twista got his nick name from the way he walks. With each step he bends his knee and twists toward it at a severe angle. He is a mental ward escapee and as well as a cheery crack enthusiast. He is unemployed but maintains his habit through his constant and haphazard hustle. If ever you need a single ladies loafer, a 50 cent "Nutty Professor" VHS or a low dose of Percaset for instance, he's your go-to guy. Despite his predictions of the buyers market for these types of products tends to be unrealistic, he has an uncanny ability to sense individual needs. Recently, I was walking to the corner store at the intersection of Desire and St. Claude, when I spotted him on the Neutral Ground parallel to me. He was twisting this way and that across the strip of grass, spraying each tree with Windex as he went. "What you doin? Twista?" I asked. "Just cleanin' up around here, baby!" he responded with a smile. I smiled back before opening the heavy metal cage door to enter the corner store. I dug a few quarters out of my pocket and inserted them into the Ms.Pacman machine. After about an hour of practice I was totally ready for one final game. I really felt I had a shot at breaking the high score at this point so I dug my hands into my pockets once more. This time, much to my dismay, I couldn't even find a dime. I exited the store with my head down. Twista confronted me immediately, "don't look so blue, Baby" he said, before placing his palms on his ears and tilting his head left then right. A quarter fell from each ear into his palm, he smiled silently and held them out to me. I thanked him before hurrying back inside, and though I didn't get the high score I got pretty damn close. I don't know if he even knew that I'd been playing Ms. Pacman. It seemed more likely that he'd simply read the dissapointment on my face and somehow known that this was one of those problems that 50 cents could remedy.

Stevee

Stevee has always spent large portions of her time in another realm, accessible to her only through dreams. She speaks of her home, family and routine there just as she must speak to them about us and our world when she dreams. One morning, recently, she awoke in a frustrated mood and when I asked her what was wrong she told me that she was having trouble choosing a paint color for her other bedroom. Then she remembered something and told me excitedly that she had been taking piano lessons at her other home before running excitedly to our living room keyboard.  She played a simple melody with such ease and grace she was shocked herself. She had never played before.
Consistently independent, as  a kid when Stevee found herself craving ice cream she decided to take matters into her own hands. Rather than awake her mom from a lazy afternoon nap she grabbed a couple of monopoly dollars, hopped in her plastic car and began to scoot herself across the busy road in front of their St. Louis home. She almost made it to Dairy Queen before her panicked mother finally found her.

Sorry this is so late I have an art show next week and I am swamped preparing for it but you are all invited and I will bring flyers to class. Is that a good title for a story?

One time a friend of mine was in front of Hank's 24 hour corner store on St Claude drinking herself into a pre-party mardi gras haze and messing with whoever walked by. Most of the people who walked by were her friends and neighbors. They understood that she was simply celebrating in her own special way and they smiled and clinked their 40's against her's in toasting fashion. Unfortunately, two of the men who walked by were police officers. She made the mistake of misinterpreting their shiny blue uniforms for something funnier and complimented them on the authenticity of their costumes. Naturally, they were infuriated and threatened to arrest her for a whole laundry list of crimes. Public drunkenness, disorderly conduct, loitering etc. She began to panic at the thought of missing the Eris parade later that night. She had been involved in preparing a float for it and had a stash of Molly tucked away which she'd been saving specifically for the event. It would be too good to miss. Luckily, just before the fateful bracelets were cuffed to her wrists she remembered something of great importance. With a slight smile she reached her hand into her pocket. Of course the officers began to yell and protest but before they could mistake the gesture as a threat she removed her hand and presented them with a Monopoly Card. "Get Out of Jail Free" it read, and so, they let her go.