Darwin

    Darwin O’Grady slammed the backdoor to his parent’s sea-green, 3-story house.
    “Darwin? Is that you?” His 63-year-old mother said, walking down the stairs into the kitchen, where Darwin was standing.
    “Yes, Mother! It is me!” He exclaimed with more excitement than a 30-year-old man should.
    “How did the interview go?” Irene asked her son.
    “Well…” Darwin’s face fell.
    Irene sighed. This had been the fifth interview this month, and all of the had ended… not-so-good.
    “Well, come sit down. I’ll pour you some tea.” Irene shuffled around the kitchen while Darwin sat in the chair, playing with his clip-on tie he had worn to the interview.
    Irene put the cup of tea in front of Darwin and sat down across from him, gazing at her son with mixed emotions. Pity, happiness, anger and there was also a hint of relief on her face.
    Darwin picked up his mug with two hands and gulped the tea before thumping up the stairs to his room.
    Irene sighed once again and gathered up the mugs.
   
    Up in his blue room, Darwin looked through the papers in his desk. He found a few letters that had been addressed to him, but threw them aside. He was looking for his sketchbook. It wasn’t on his desk, apparently.
    Darwin groaned and searched everywhere. He finally found his thick, heavy sketchbook under his bed in a corner by the wall.
    Sighing with content, Darwin settled himself on his bed with only his sketchbook, a pencil and his imagination.
    He closed his eyes, scribbled on the paper, and opened his eyes. Trying to figure out what the messy shape would become after he added details and erased a few things.
    After a few minutes of intense thinking, Darwin finally decided the shape looked like his best friend, Irving.
    He scribbled Irving’s usual basketball jersey, baggy shorts, thick glasses, and the basketball that was always under his arm.
    Darwin smiled when he saw how much his sketch looked like his friend.


    28 year old Irving Smith dribbled the basketball on the steps, making sure it didn’t land on his brand-new red Nikes.
    He was waiting his girlfriend, Amelia, to come pick him up. Irving didn’t have a car, so on their dates, Amelia always had to pick Irving up.