Short fiction
the t in turk stands for tragedy
the san francisco hymn
To accompany this poem, Anel has created an audio-visual reading of it
if you’re going to san francisco,
be sure to wear flowers in your hair
and carry a gun behind your back.
shot, one, two, three, another.
life in the tenderloin
is no different today than it will be next.
the sirens are our lullaby;
slEEp aleeert, the mOOnster outsiiide
mIIght get yOOu neeext.
“pretty girls smoke weed too,”
as our lungs fill with secondary data.
the wheelchairs carry the half-diseased,
the bulging eyes and half-bent spines
are crossing the street in a half-unnatural manner.
“abortion is killing a human”
“someone shut this WOMAN (bitch) up!”
as if the deaths happening
on the streets
in that moment
didn’t exist.
and still, the world carries on
reeking of piss and sinful humans.
“be rid of sin, the sin reigns over you,”
FREE BIBLE COURSE!
accompanied by the smell of hotdog and watermelon stands.
“the only man i love is jesus,”
the only city i love is…
the only city i hate is…
in the fake tales of san francisco
they say this is heaven,
they say this is where the forest meets the bridge meets the hills meets the people
but the angels are nowhere to be found
san francisco days, san francisco nights
they spit and cough on you
because the shame is obscured by you.
“damn, girl, you got that ass,”
says the man with pants on his thighs,
ass actually showing.
“you’re a fucking fat pig”
rings in my ears.
but how is it so
that i return with glowing soul
i must’ve been asked by the angels
in my soul contract
“find true love or true hate, and nothing in between”
i must’ve said yes, i know i would’ve
and now
i must’ve left my heart in san francisco
and finally,
“anything helps,” reads the lonely man’s sign in front of trader joe’s.
but is there anyone left to help you,
san francisco?
the fire alarm
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” blasts through the speakers.
“such an inconvenience,” mutters Brian as he gathers his most-vital belongings. passport, laptop, phone… he counts them aloud. stepping into the hallway, the deafening real-ness of the alarm hits him in a new wave. “oof,” he mouths under his breath.
meeting his classmates in the hallway in the middle of the night is always a museum of diversity; some people are still awake, studying away, others are on their 3rd dream of the night.
the mechanical thud of steps on stairs makes an accompanying beat to the rhythm of “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” still screeching from the fire alarm. it is doing its job exceptionally well.
the seconds feel like hours, time is slowing in a manner that warps reality, sarcastically flirting with the laws of physics.
making their way outside, they gather around the building for “shelter,” though no real danger seemed to be emitted from the fire alarm’s solo concert.
“typically, isn’t a fire department supposed to show up within 5 minutes of a reported alarm?” says Brian in his know-it-all manner.
a couple of “yeah”s spread across the small crowd. this isn’t the first day that the fire alarm made itself known; surprisingly, people become accustomed even to its presence in their daily life. some choose not to follow its extremely clear instructions.
at some point, even the alarm exhausted its ruling powers.
the commotion of the night quiets, and everything feels inappropriately the same as before.
“huh, i guess they just forgot about us.,” Brian shakes his head as others start heading inwards.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers bellow.
passport, laptop, phone…
“another day in a row, hey?” smiles Brian as he makes eye contact with one of his classmates; no response.
to make his miseries of the horrid nightly disturbance and the awkwardness of the unshared smile lighter, Brian decides to knock on his friend’s door as he passes by.
“are you going outside? i can’t believe you’re managing to sleep through this!”
“go awayyyy, Brian! it’s just another false alarm.” a voice says.
defeated, Brian continues his slow descent.
thud, thud down the staircase.
every step of progress made down the 8 floors downwards takes away yet another precious moment of potential deep sleep. from the first moments after Brian awoke, his eyelids still fluttering in confusion, reality was fuzzy, like how he saw the world without glasses – the kind of glasses that help you understand the events that are happening to you.
there is the same crowd of familiar – if not anxious-looking – faces gathered around the building.
“they mentioned that there must be something wrong with the alarm system,” he points out to his classmates.
he starts growing familiar with the faces of the other students, who also religiously follow the alarm’s rules.
the cool air of the night washes their worries away. when the fire department once again fails to appear at the seemingly forgotten building and the alarm exhausts itself to sleep, so do the fellow students.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers yell in everyone’s ears.
waking up yet another day from the horrendous sounds of the fire alarm in the middle of the night, Brian grows weary of his circumstances. passport, comp… bla bla bla.
on his journey outside, time slows in its usual fashion, but something is strangely unfamiliar: a tinge of a faint smell of smoke reaches his radius. Brian is confused by this development, as the fire alarms before never actually signaled a reliable danger.
“wait, do you guys smell it too?” thud, thud, thud.
“smell what?” someone responds.
“the smoke… it smells like smoke!”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” someone else says, “it’s just the faulty alarm system again.”
indeed, it was still the same “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” announcement. Brian isn’t convinced though. he intentionally intensifies his sense of smell to attune to his surroundings.
by the time they all make it outside, the confusion is still visible on Brian’s face, crinkling his forehead, scrunched in a thinking face.
in his academic career, he is described as a problem-solver: the one to know the answers or to figure them out as he goes. this time, he is stumped. this time, the only way to understand, he realizes, is to find out myself.
he goes inside the building – against his built-in rule-following nature – following the instinct of his nose.
the smell of smoke hits harder than anticipated. hands trembling, he made his way down the steps to the basement. first step, second step, third step…
the sudden surge of warmth meets him unexpectedly. it is before he reaches the seventh step that the realization kicks in: we are burning.
the laundry room is filled with smoke, traces of orange and yellow spark further down the hallway. he is as much confused as aghast to it happening; no signs before this could have prepared him for this danger.
he clatters up the stairs in a panic, screaming “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” in tandem with the alarm. in the rush of adrenaline and fear for his and all the others’ lives, he runs, almost tripping, out into the hallway and through the heavy door.
but to no avail. all others seem preoccupied with the normality of nightly walks and breezes of fresh air.
as he looks over at the crowd standing on the other side of the street, teary-eyed and with beads of sweat decorating his forehead, Brian finally hears the sirens of the long-missed fire department.
stepping out of the building, he looks back with eyes rolled into balls of fear: it is too late. it seems as though there is nothing to save.
he looks at the drowsy crowd of students approaching the building again, in total calmness and with no drop of change. it is then that he realizes that in the many nights the fire alarms occurred, he has only been seeing the same group of faces.
oh my fu–
Breaking News: Tragic Fire Claims All Lives in Unprecedented Blaze
In a devastating event, the city has experienced its most catastrophic fire since the artificial blaze of 1900, which was ignited to eradicate the bubonic plague. The 2023 inferno, whose cause remains undetermined, has left no survivors.
Authorities are grappling with the tragic aftermath. "Understanding the cause and lethal nature of such a fire in the 21st century is challenging," stated a spokesperson. Investigations are currently considering potential political attacks and examining the signal system designed to alert the local fire department.
According to regulations, fire trucks should respond within five minutes of an alarm. The reasons for the failure in this protocol and the delayed response remain unclear. "We are committed to uncovering the truth and will provide updates as new information becomes available," the spokesperson added.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers announced.
Brian awoke in a deep sweat, terrified and heaving.
not the fire alarm, again, the other students thought, not realizing anything was amiss.
thud, thud, thud, thud sounded from their shuffling down the stairs.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” continued its song.
author’s note: although “the fire of 2023” did not actually happen, the feeling of fear and dread is drawn from the author's personal experiences, dramatized for storytelling purposes. the fear of fire haunted the author since childhood and peaked in the eeriness and repeated nature of fire alarms at 3am.
day
morning shine
greetings, Karl!
onto your trail, the one you’re blazing
afternoon grime
lunch line, gather!
people, hiding in their blazers
evening crime
it’s dark, get home!
barely seen, but there are blades
“what day is it?”
the man bowed his head
in hesitation
the streets have that effect
his essence scrunched under
the weight of
his grief in plain view
setting the world around him ablaze
author’s note: i know there is a weird combination of fiction and non-fiction within these stories. it happened unintentionally, but at the same time, i feel like it makes sense? that's what SF felt like to me -- in a world full of "realness," it felt the most surreal
To accompany this poem, Anel has created an audio-visual reading of it
if you’re going to san francisco,
be sure to wear flowers in your hair
and carry a gun behind your back.
shot, one, two, three, another.
life in the tenderloin
is no different today than it will be next.
the sirens are our lullaby;
slEEp aleeert, the mOOnster outsiiide
mIIght get yOOu neeext.
“pretty girls smoke weed too,”
as our lungs fill with secondary data.
the wheelchairs carry the half-diseased,
the bulging eyes and half-bent spines
are crossing the street in a half-unnatural manner.
“abortion is killing a human”
“someone shut this WOMAN (bitch) up!”
as if the deaths happening
on the streets
in that moment
didn’t exist.
and still, the world carries on
reeking of piss and sinful humans.
“be rid of sin, the sin reigns over you,”
FREE BIBLE COURSE!
accompanied by the smell of hotdog and watermelon stands.
“the only man i love is jesus,”
the only city i love is…
the only city i hate is…
in the fake tales of san francisco
they say this is heaven,
they say this is where the forest meets the bridge meets the hills meets the people
but the angels are nowhere to be found
san francisco days, san francisco nights
they spit and cough on you
because the shame is obscured by you.
“damn, girl, you got that ass,”
says the man with pants on his thighs,
ass actually showing.
“you’re a fucking fat pig”
rings in my ears.
but how is it so
that i return with glowing soul
i must’ve been asked by the angels
in my soul contract
“find true love or true hate, and nothing in between”
i must’ve said yes, i know i would’ve
and now
i must’ve left my heart in san francisco
and finally,
“anything helps,” reads the lonely man’s sign in front of trader joe’s.
but is there anyone left to help you,
san francisco?
the fire alarm
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” blasts through the speakers.
“such an inconvenience,” mutters Brian as he gathers his most-vital belongings. passport, laptop, phone… he counts them aloud. stepping into the hallway, the deafening real-ness of the alarm hits him in a new wave. “oof,” he mouths under his breath.
meeting his classmates in the hallway in the middle of the night is always a museum of diversity; some people are still awake, studying away, others are on their 3rd dream of the night.
the mechanical thud of steps on stairs makes an accompanying beat to the rhythm of “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” still screeching from the fire alarm. it is doing its job exceptionally well.
the seconds feel like hours, time is slowing in a manner that warps reality, sarcastically flirting with the laws of physics.
making their way outside, they gather around the building for “shelter,” though no real danger seemed to be emitted from the fire alarm’s solo concert.
“typically, isn’t a fire department supposed to show up within 5 minutes of a reported alarm?” says Brian in his know-it-all manner.
a couple of “yeah”s spread across the small crowd. this isn’t the first day that the fire alarm made itself known; surprisingly, people become accustomed even to its presence in their daily life. some choose not to follow its extremely clear instructions.
at some point, even the alarm exhausted its ruling powers.
the commotion of the night quiets, and everything feels inappropriately the same as before.
“huh, i guess they just forgot about us.,” Brian shakes his head as others start heading inwards.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers bellow.
passport, laptop, phone…
“another day in a row, hey?” smiles Brian as he makes eye contact with one of his classmates; no response.
to make his miseries of the horrid nightly disturbance and the awkwardness of the unshared smile lighter, Brian decides to knock on his friend’s door as he passes by.
“are you going outside? i can’t believe you’re managing to sleep through this!”
“go awayyyy, Brian! it’s just another false alarm.” a voice says.
defeated, Brian continues his slow descent.
thud, thud down the staircase.
every step of progress made down the 8 floors downwards takes away yet another precious moment of potential deep sleep. from the first moments after Brian awoke, his eyelids still fluttering in confusion, reality was fuzzy, like how he saw the world without glasses – the kind of glasses that help you understand the events that are happening to you.
there is the same crowd of familiar – if not anxious-looking – faces gathered around the building.
“they mentioned that there must be something wrong with the alarm system,” he points out to his classmates.
he starts growing familiar with the faces of the other students, who also religiously follow the alarm’s rules.
the cool air of the night washes their worries away. when the fire department once again fails to appear at the seemingly forgotten building and the alarm exhausts itself to sleep, so do the fellow students.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers yell in everyone’s ears.
waking up yet another day from the horrendous sounds of the fire alarm in the middle of the night, Brian grows weary of his circumstances. passport, comp… bla bla bla.
on his journey outside, time slows in its usual fashion, but something is strangely unfamiliar: a tinge of a faint smell of smoke reaches his radius. Brian is confused by this development, as the fire alarms before never actually signaled a reliable danger.
“wait, do you guys smell it too?” thud, thud, thud.
“smell what?” someone responds.
“the smoke… it smells like smoke!”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” someone else says, “it’s just the faulty alarm system again.”
indeed, it was still the same “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” announcement. Brian isn’t convinced though. he intentionally intensifies his sense of smell to attune to his surroundings.
by the time they all make it outside, the confusion is still visible on Brian’s face, crinkling his forehead, scrunched in a thinking face.
in his academic career, he is described as a problem-solver: the one to know the answers or to figure them out as he goes. this time, he is stumped. this time, the only way to understand, he realizes, is to find out myself.
he goes inside the building – against his built-in rule-following nature – following the instinct of his nose.
the smell of smoke hits harder than anticipated. hands trembling, he made his way down the steps to the basement. first step, second step, third step…
the sudden surge of warmth meets him unexpectedly. it is before he reaches the seventh step that the realization kicks in: we are burning.
the laundry room is filled with smoke, traces of orange and yellow spark further down the hallway. he is as much confused as aghast to it happening; no signs before this could have prepared him for this danger.
he clatters up the stairs in a panic, screaming “FIRE. fire. FIRE,” in tandem with the alarm. in the rush of adrenaline and fear for his and all the others’ lives, he runs, almost tripping, out into the hallway and through the heavy door.
but to no avail. all others seem preoccupied with the normality of nightly walks and breezes of fresh air.
as he looks over at the crowd standing on the other side of the street, teary-eyed and with beads of sweat decorating his forehead, Brian finally hears the sirens of the long-missed fire department.
stepping out of the building, he looks back with eyes rolled into balls of fear: it is too late. it seems as though there is nothing to save.
he looks at the drowsy crowd of students approaching the building again, in total calmness and with no drop of change. it is then that he realizes that in the many nights the fire alarms occurred, he has only been seeing the same group of faces.
oh my fu–
Breaking News: Tragic Fire Claims All Lives in Unprecedented Blaze
In a devastating event, the city has experienced its most catastrophic fire since the artificial blaze of 1900, which was ignited to eradicate the bubonic plague. The 2023 inferno, whose cause remains undetermined, has left no survivors.
Authorities are grappling with the tragic aftermath. "Understanding the cause and lethal nature of such a fire in the 21st century is challenging," stated a spokesperson. Investigations are currently considering potential political attacks and examining the signal system designed to alert the local fire department.
According to regulations, fire trucks should respond within five minutes of an alarm. The reasons for the failure in this protocol and the delayed response remain unclear. "We are committed to uncovering the truth and will provide updates as new information becomes available," the spokesperson added.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” the speakers announced.
Brian awoke in a deep sweat, terrified and heaving.
not the fire alarm, again, the other students thought, not realizing anything was amiss.
thud, thud, thud, thud sounded from their shuffling down the stairs.
“FIRE. fire. FIRE,” continued its song.
author’s note: although “the fire of 2023” did not actually happen, the feeling of fear and dread is drawn from the author's personal experiences, dramatized for storytelling purposes. the fear of fire haunted the author since childhood and peaked in the eeriness and repeated nature of fire alarms at 3am.
day
morning shine
greetings, Karl!
onto your trail, the one you’re blazing
afternoon grime
lunch line, gather!
people, hiding in their blazers
evening crime
it’s dark, get home!
barely seen, but there are blades
“what day is it?”
the man bowed his head
in hesitation
the streets have that effect
his essence scrunched under
the weight of
his grief in plain view
setting the world around him ablaze
author’s note: i know there is a weird combination of fiction and non-fiction within these stories. it happened unintentionally, but at the same time, i feel like it makes sense? that's what SF felt like to me -- in a world full of "realness," it felt the most surreal