writing

A Clue

Frank was sick. His nose was running, his throat hurt, and he felt generally lethargic. An early night would probably cure him of the worst of it, he thought. Just a cold.

It wasn’t until he got up in the morning and looked in the bathroom mirror that he realized there was something more serious going on. He wondered what kind of a doctor he’d need to see for the three toes growing out of his forehead. Perhaps a podiatrist.

Author’s note: Until October the 31st, I’m going to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. Feedback is welcome.

Tree

I shrug on my fall jacket and step outside the door only to remember why I dread the idea of going out today. My allergies hit my sinuses full force and I struggle to separate the wad of tissues I extract from my pocket to catch my sneeze.

I promised my best friend, Amanda, that I’d go with her to meet an uncle she never knew she had. Amanda has been on a kick lately, looking up her family tree. Her dad died when she was very young and he wasn’t close to his relatives. Since her mom passed away, she’s been giving her all to one last ditch attempt to connect with someone.

On the way over to pick her up, I think about what I’m going to say. How cheerful I’m going to pretend to be. Shit like this is something a person only does for a best friend.

Author’s note: Until October the 31st, I’m going to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. Feedback is welcome.

Shadow

How is a shadow any less real than that which casts it? Of course it’s real, I would have said six months ago. But it has no life of its own. Now I know different.

It was a warm evening last March. My girlfriend, Amanda, and I were sitting in her basement apartment trying to get a breeze to blow through. We gave up eventually and sat down to watch TV. She rolled a joint and we sparked it up. I thought I was that – that I was too stoned and I was seeing things, but she saw it too.

Our shadows, cast by the bluish light of the TV screen, got up and left without us. Life ever since has been like something out of a horror story.

Author’s note: From October 4th to the 31st, I’m going to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. Feedback is welcome.

Wings

I feel them as they approach, long before I see them. The dust from the road beneath the lone streetlight swirls around me. Will the angel that comes for me tonight be dark, or of the light?

I look up even though I know it’s useless. When I squint, a halo appears around the bulb above me, in all the colours of the rainbow.

Before long, I pick up the scent. Sulfur. The angel is dark.

He lands some distance away. Finally he steps into the ring of light on the pavement; he saunters toward me. His black wings folded loosely behind him, he wears all white, as though that will absolve him. We both know his clothes will soon be drenched in my blood.

“Hello,” he says with a smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I reply.

I hand him the sword and he studies it for a moment. “Your weapons are getting bigger,” he muses, speaking to me as he looks at the blade.

“The stakes are getting higher. I suppose your rival will be here tomorrow to clean up the mess.”

“You prefer it that way?”

“I think so.”

“He believes he’s mastered the art of protection.”

I nod. “Now he needs to work on his healing.”

“Let’s give him something to work on then.”

I’m aroused at his first slice down my cheek. Tonight will prove to be orgasmic. A little death, indeed.

Power outage

I’m riting this as fast as I can. I can hear him outside the door there’s a storm outside and i’ afraid the power will go out This is my last chance. I know he has a knife. I’m scared please come help me. I can’t .. the door. he’s rattleing the knob what can I do? my phoen won’t work if the power goes ou

dilemma

how to string together
the words to convey
how much i love you?

my goal
to linger like the fragrance a strawberry
you carry upon your breath all the day

my hope
to pervade your thoughts
much the same as
the ocean’s waves break relentlessly on the sand

my dilemma
to find a way to let you know
i exist

#SoCS – Panic

I wanted to go. I was ready to go, to cut the cord between me and my family. Scholarship in hand, I stood with my mom, dad, and baby sister in the cool autumn breeze at the bus station. It was going to be my first time away from them apart from the occasional sleep-over at my best friend, Sharon’s house. At least I had Sharon. She was already on the bus. She knew to give us some space to say good-bye.

I hugged them each in turn and pasted a happy smile on my face. Dad might have bought it, but my mom and sis weren’t fooled. I could tell by their own fake happy faces.

It wasn’t until the bus started moving that the panic began. What if I never saw them again? What if I wasn’t happy at college, if I hated my professors, my courses… my life? I started to cry, but then Sharon put her hand over mine on the glass.

“It’ll be okay,” she assured me. “Just like when we were having sleep-overs.”

She smiled a real smile and I relaxed. Only then did another thought occur to me.

“What if we’re not in the same dorm room? Or the same dorm even? How will I survive without you?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she whispered.

We both cried all the rest of the hundred miles to college.

socsbadge2016-17

This horribly bleak Stream of Consciousness Saturday post (which is totally unedited) was brought to you by the prompt here: https://lindaghill.com/2016/09/23/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2416/
and The Daily Post prompt here: Panic

Stylish

“What, in the hell, are you wearing?”

Ginny looked down at herself and back up to her BFF, Miffy. “I know. My mom made me put it on for picture day. She thinks it’s ‘stylish’. Can you believe it?”

“We HAVE to get you out of that… thing. What is it anyway? Overalls with a skirt? Your gym clothes would be better.”

“It’s a ‘pinafore.'”

“UGH!”

“I know! She did give me this to put on over it, if I really wanted to.”

“What is THAT?”

“A cardigan.”

“Oh. My. God. Ginny. You’ve got to go home and change.”

“I can’t. My mom will kill me?”

“How would she know?”

“I don’t know. But she will. I just know it.”

Hike

A two-hour hike had turned into a six-hour-long ordeal. George sat on a rock and thought about where it had gone wrong. Was it possible that the bump on the head from not ducking low enough under the fallen tree made him miss the signpost? The markers along the trail were bright red. Then again, now that he looked around, everything seemed black and white, like he’d stepped into an old television show.

“You have,” said a voice from behind him.

“Rod? Rod Serling?” George asked the stranger.

“No, I’m Rob. Rod was my brother.”

“So, I’m not in the Twilight Zone?”

“Technically, no. This is just the sunset zone. Rod will be along in a minute.”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Well, yeah. Technically.” Rob stepped closer and ran his hair over George’s scalp. “You really should have that looked at.”

“You’re telling me,” said George with a small laugh.

“Okay, gotta go. Say hi to Rod for me.” With that, Rob ran away down the trail that George had walked up.

To be continued

Flowers

“Why doesn’t she want a pot of flowers? They ‘cheer up the kitchen’ just as much as a long-stemmed rose that will die in a week.”

“Don’t ask me, man. Women are crazy. Hey, did you see that guy burn out at that intersection back there? So cool.”

“Pfft. Yeah. My wife doesn’t like it when I do that. Says it’s a waste of tires.”

“Haha. That’s women for you.”