Say what?

The mouth moves, but I hear nothing. It reminds me of a joke my brother enjoyed when we were kids. He would mouth words and mimic screaming in my direction as I listened to music with headphones. I would slowly lower the volume - all the while trying to hear - until it was off. The game would finally end with him laughing and waving me away as I returned to the music. Somehow, it seemed funny in the moment. My eyes scan the waiting area in search of any source of noise - any sound to return me to the familiar. The clock tickets, nothing. The arrival of flight 170 from Newark is announced (and displayed), nothing. A child runs past, crying, and there is nothing. Panic attacks my body as I wipe the sweat from my brow. Their eyes meet my eyes. The strange look on my face causes some to do a double-take. I slowly back peddle and trip over my bag. A man approaches to offer help, but I wave him away. My hand rests on my knee while preparing to rise. The weight of the bag fights my arm as it is lifted. My body turns as I search for nearest restroom. The world goes black as I make my way to the doorway. A reassuring face waits as my eyes open. My head slowly rises as I collect my thoughts. I am lying on the back of a cart - the cart that hit me as she tells me. The seductive brown eyes are mesmerizing. I hang on every word before it finally hits me, I can hear, but then she tells me I had been out for quite some time. Was it a dream?

Possible essay topics

Compare and contrast the moment Biff learned the truth about his father in Death of a Salesman with the moment you found out the same about your own father. Also, discuss the moment when your son will finally learn about you.
Affairs play a key role in both Death of a Salesman and Passing. Compare and contrast the role of affairs in each story and their impact on the murder/suicide in each. Discuss the role of affairs in your own life, and predict how it will end.
In Death of a Salesman, brothers Happy and Biff are complete opposites with one begging for his father's attention and the other crumbling under its weight. Compare their relationship with that between you and your own brother.
In The Grapes of Wrath Ma Joad assumes the head of the family role when the father fails. Compare this to your own mother's family leadership and its effects on your maturation.
Physical work and the ability to handle mechanical problems (think auto repairs) are key concepts of being a man in The Grapes of Wrath. Compare this with your own upbringing.

Stained

"What are you saying?" Her eyes glared as she awaited a response.
"You know what I am saying." My energy was gone, I just wanted to lie down and be rid of it all.
"I want to hear you say it." A tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and concentrating on holding back others.
"I don't want to say any more."
"Isn't that nice. You always want to control everything!" My body slammed against the door as she pushed me. I awaited more punishment.
"You have nothing else to say?" She stood firmly entrenched with arms folded and a determined look on her face. This was the woman I had fallen for so many years ago.
My mind drifted back to that night in the office, when she had strolled past my desk. Her scent hung in the air as I watched the little body walk away. She had turned and flashed that brilliant smile in my direction just before disappering. The smile was mesmerizing. It was cupid's arrow firmly planted in my heart. I thought of nothing else the rest of that day and week. I worked up the courage to speak to her. Her voice was music to my ears.
"Well, isn't this great, you're going to stand their with that dumb look on your face?" She didn't bother with brushing the tears away - they flowed freely.
"I'm afraid to say anything." I lowered my head and stared at the floor. I instantly recognized the small brown stain on the carpet. I smiled while remembering the spilled food the previous Christmas.
"Oh, now this is funny? You know, everything in life is not funny!" The tears dried as anger erupted.
"No, no, it isn't like that, I was remembering the stain." I pointed at the famliar spot on the floor while talking.
She looked down and a faint smile formed.
"I love you." The emotions choked me as I talked.
"It isn't enough."

Abyss

You lean forward, head in hands, staring at the floor. The mind can't comprehend what it doesn't understand. The door is locked and the lights are off. How can others understand that which you can't explain? You think of doctors, but there is nothing physically wrong. The world was at your fingertips only yesterday, but the storm clouds moved in slowly - always slowly. There were hints of what lay ahead - the irritability and indecisiveness. You brushed off the warnings - as always thinking you had it under control. There is nobody easier to deceive than yourself. The chair rocks as you lean back and collect yourself. Tears seem possible, even appropriate, but nothing comes. The darkness is soothing, but your eyes have adjusted. It is on the desk just out of your reach. You stare at it while quickly reviewing the plan in your head. Your body lurches forward as you reach for it, but you stop - your hand hovering within inches of it. Suddenly, images flash in your mind and you slowly shake your head. Your body relaxes and falls back in the chair. You watch the ceiling as the chair rocks back and forth. You berate your lack of courage. The doorknob slowly turns accompanied by knock on the door.

Insulted

"This is outrageous." He walks with head down.
"What do you mean?" I respond.
"What do I mean? What DO I MEAN? I mean she is fucking nuts!" He waves his hands like a third base coach waving the runner home.
"Well, I don't know, did something happen?"
"Are you blind?" He raises his head and looks in my eyes.
"Listen, just tell me what the hell you're talking about." My patience is nearing its end.
"Did you hear what she said to me?" He stands with arms folded awaiting my response.
"I'm not sure, but from the tone of your voice, I probably didn't HEAR what you did."
"She looked me straight in the eyes and said 'God, you are a mess' after I told that story about my brother and the body."
"Oh, okay, oh really? I didn't hear anything." I search my brain for any clue of the conversation he describes.
"Yeah, she has her fucking nerve, she should look in the goddamn mirror herself!"
"Oh, well, she was probably just fucking with you. You know how she is, so calm down."
"No, no she wasn't. I hate to be judged!" He is visibly angry.
"What's the big deal what she thinks? Fuck her." I await a response as he looks away, and it finally hits me. His body language reveals everything. I can't believe it.
"Oh, o-okay." I shake my head as his eyes avoid my gaze.

Don't mention it

My eyes strain to avoid looking directly at the yellow liquid. Her eyes avoid mine as guilt and shame covers her face. Small talk continues as I think about it, and she wonders if I saw it. A brochure is repositioned to shield the cup, but it is too late - I know what it is. The translucent white cups are everywhere at sporting events. Some people stack their empty cups to showcase their consumption. I am embarrassed, embarrassed for her, I want to leave, to have never been there. The conversation floats around everything but the obvious. An uneasy silence descends upon us as I back away. We promise to call each other and exchange good-byes. She turns and walks away as I stand and watch. I want to say that I won't tell, but then she'd know I know even though she suspects and I know she suspects. Disappointment and anger race through my veins, I want her to stop, I want it gone, it is too much to handle.