Here’s part 2!

JOEY
    Joey’s running through pristine halls that smell like chemicals, plastic and misery.  He reaches the elevator and slaps his thumb onto the down arrow.  As he waits, he holds the bill up and inspects it.  It’s a typical beat up bill, green, tiny speckles of color here and there if you’re looking close enough, a tear on the top left corner.  It’s not often that Joey gets to hold something like this, though, and he’s ecstatic.  As far as Joey’s concerned Marissa has handed him a treasure.  He has enough money to get anything he could ever want.  His mind goes to cakes, toy robots and trains.  He rubs the bill between his thumb and forefinger like he’s seen on TV.  It feels rougher than he expected.
    The elevator doors chime open and Joey jumps.  It takes him a moment to process that he was waiting for that very thing to happen before he steps inside.  It’s just him and a man in black pants and a sweater vest.
    “Hey little guy,” the man says.  “Who’s worried and looking for you right now?”
    Joey avoids making eye contact, looking at his light-up shoes.  “My dad’s downstairs.”
    “I see, well let me get that for you,” the man says.  He reaches forward without moving and pushes the big round 1, making it glow orange.
    “Thank you.”  There’s silence for a while, as the elevator descends.  Joey crumples the bill into a fist and puts both hands behind his back, watching the man in the sweater vest in the corner of his eye.
    “What’s that you’re hiding?” the man asks.
    Joey’s grip tightens.  “Nothing.”
    “Come now, I’m not going to take it, just curious.”
    Joey brings his hands out in front of him, but his fists stay clamped shut.
    “Don’t worry.”
    Joey nods.  “It’s money from Mom-mom,” he says.  The bill sits on his palms, compacted into a quarter sized ball of green.
    “Oh my,” the man says.  He smiles and grabs the crumpled ball out of Joey’s hands, which makes Joey jump after it.
    “That’s mine!”
    “Relax,” the man  says.  He holds the bill up to the light in the elevator and points to an image that appears on its surface.  “Take a gander at that, your bill’s got a ghost.  What do you think?”
    Joey puts his hand up to grab the bill without responding.
    “Fine fine.”  The man hands Joey the bill as the elevator comes to a halt and the doors chime open once again.  “Looks like out trip together is done little guy.”  Joey runs out the door without a word, seeing his father in the main lobby.
    “Daddy look what Mom-mom gave me.” Joey holds the Adam out to his dad.
    “Well would you look at that,” Neil says.  “How’s it feel to be rich?”
    “There’s a ghost in it, the man showed me.”
    “What man?”
    “In the elevator,” Joey says.  He holds it up to the light like the man did, and the image appears.  “See?  It’s got a ghost in it.”
    “I’ll be.  Leave it to Mom-mom Marissa to give you haunted money,” Neil says.  You want me to take it to a priest?”
    “What?”
    “Never mind,” Neil says.  “Come on, let’s take a walk until Mommy’s ready.”
    “Okay.”
    “Here, I’ll hold your money for you.” 
    “I want to hold it!” Joey whines.  He shoves it into his pocket quickly so that it is peeking out of the top.
    “Alright alright,” Neil says.  “Forget I offered.  You want to find a toy store to spend that baby in?”
    Joey’s eyes light up.  “Please!”
    “No problem, kiddo,” Neil says.  He rests his palm on Joey’s hair as they walk through the revolving doors in the main lobby and out into the busy city streets.  Cars are moving quickly on the roads, but with little room for error.  Horns blare almost constantly, people are shouting, and Joey and Neil are constantly bumping into other pedestrians.
    “Hold my hand Joey,” Neil says.  Joey grabs his hand and they walk close together through the crowds of people. 
    “Watch it!” Neil shouts.  “You almost knocked my kid over, what the hell were you thinking?”
    “My bad, man.”
    “Get out of here,” Neil says.  “You alright Joey?”
    “I’m fine.”
    “Your coat’s unzipped,” Neil says.  He stops and squats down in front of Joey, grabbing the zipper of his puffy blue coat and pulling it up to his chin.
    “But dad I’m not cold!”
    “Well that’s too bad,” Neil says.  “I don’t want you getting sick.”
    “But dad,” Joey starts, but a Toys R Us not too far ahead steals his attention.  He points and looks up to his father.
    “Let’s go get you a toy, moneybags.”
    Joey laughs and nods, shoving his hand into his pocket to find his treasure, grasping frantically at empty space.

Transactions is a short story I wrote recently that is already broken up into parts, so I figured it would be good to post.  I’ll submit it in the parts as it is broken up naturally.  Here’s the first!

MARISSA
    Marissa seems like as good a starting point as any.  She’s the kind of elderly woman that you would expect: a tiny little thing, with round glasses that sit on the ridge of her nose near the tip so that she has to tilt her head upwards when she reads.  She has three children, two girls and a boy, and give grandchildren, all boys.  More importantly, she has a bill in the purse that sits in her lap.  Let’s say her oldest daughter Rita is visiting her, as she has been every Wednesday.
    “How are you feeling?” Rita asks.
    “Funny.  Are they keeping you comfortable here?”
    Marissa nods.  “They are.  How’s the family been?”
    “Fine.  Joey likes school, don’t you bud?” Rita ruffles her son’s hair, who is standing next to her.
    “Very good,” Marissa says.  “What about Neil?”
    “Yeah, he’s fine,” Rita says.  “Refused to see you like this, though.  Insisted on waiting downstairs until we’re ready to leave.  Reminds him of his mom, I think.”
    “Tell him I understand.  I’m glad that I could see you again, though.  Seeing you brings back so many memories.  They become an important part of you, memories, at my age.”  She smiles then at Joey.  “You too, Joey.”
    “Hug your Mom-mom,” Rita says, pushing him forward gently.
    “Okay,” he says.  He has to stretch on the tips of his toes when he goes to hug Marissa, who coos at him while they embrace.  He smells his grandmother’s familiar rosy perfume.
    “You’re a good boy, Joey,” she says.  “Make sure you keep taking care of Mommy, alright?”
    He nods.
    “Good, good,” she says.  “Good.  Here,” she rummages through her purse and pulls out the bill and hands it to Joey.
    “Ma, he doesn’t need—
    “Hush Rita, let me give my grandson a small gift.”  She holds out the bill to Joey.  “Don’t spend it all in one place,” she says, smiling.
    “Thanks Mom-mom,” Joey says.
    “Why don’t you go downstairs to Daddy, Joey?” Rita says, her voice straining.  “I’ll be down in a little while.”
    “Okay.”  Before leaving, Joey stretches up to hug Marissa again and she kisses him on the cheek.
    “Love you,” she says.
    “You too Mom-mom.”  Then Joey dashes out of the room, money in one hand, holding his pants up with the other.
    “Oh! No running please,” a nurse says as Joey goes by.

A painful ring tears me
from dreams of you, in which—
    We spun, we twirled, you followed me—
amongst the wondrous melodies
of love and pure tranquility.
    The images fade, as most dreams do,
soul awakened, eyes kept closed,
and withered away turns a night spent with you
           Far too good to be true,
                             far too good to be true.

This is a poem that I wrote about half a year ago.  I thought it was a good way to start.  I mainly write short stories, and I’m not really sure how to go about posting those.  I was thinking of doing it in parts.  Anyway, hope you enjoy this!

Hello there, name’s Ryan.  I’m starting this blog in hopes of promoting, as the title suggests, dialogue and writing.  By dialogue I simply mean conversation; I would love to have an opportunity to have an open dialogue here, whether I initiate it with you or the other way around.  As far as writing goes, I am an aspiring writer and I plan to share my writing with you, as well as any other interesting writing I can find.  While those are my main purposes, you will also probably find photos, videos, and other mediums of expression here because, after all, a conversation should always be multi-dimensional.  Why not explore other interesting mediums?  I hope this works out, I’m pretty excited to start!