Had an idea for a story on the way home from my grandma's house Christmas. Started working on a scene later that night and over the course of the next couple of days. Needs some work and the characters need names. Initial draft of a scene taking place sometime in the middle of the story. Characters will be referred to by letters until I come up with names. And yeah, I know it's not very good. This is a rough, rough draft.
The last remaining hours of daylight revealed a seemingly endless sea of corn. With the sun set, there was still corn. Miles of nothing but corn. Kansas, what a boring place. A couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live here.
The car maintained the speed it had been for the past few hours.
"I haven't seen any cars in awhile," C said.
"Yeah, it's pretty much nothing but corn everywhere," A said, his eyes not leaving the road.
It was the first time they had talked in what seemed like forever. The radio had been the only other sound. C was gazing out the window, not looking at anything particular.
"Pull over!" she said with sudden excitement, slapping his arm.
"What? What is it?" he asked, concerned, as he pulled to the side of the highway and began to slow down.
Before the car had come to a full stop, C flung the door open and dashed off into the corn field, giggling.
"Oh, what the hell?" A asked himself, getting out of the car.
Her voice called out from the dark corn field, "Over here, and hurry!"
A shook his head and followed the sounds of her giggling glee. While she was still ahead of him some distance, the joyous sounds suddenly stopped.
"C! Where'd you go?" he called out, walking deeper into the field. Even at six feet even, he felt short compared to these stalks. There was a rustling ahead of him a little ways. He paused and tried to listen for more.
Fat, short fingers came over his eyes. C's laughter gave it away. "Boo!"
A clawed at the fingers and turned around. She was wearing that devilish grin B used so often. Seeing it flooded A with nostalgia and a life he knew was left behind and past him. It must have showed on his face because that grin faded quickly from C's face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." He tried his best to give her a soothing smile. It didn't work.
With the same pouty face her sister used on him so much, she mumbled, "It's her, isn't it?" A was silent and she took it as confirmation. "Am I that terrible? Can you not see me for me? Will you always think of her when you see me? Is it really too much to ask you to forget about what happened between you too? Or at the very least, pretend you've forgot?" Exasperated and with tears in her eyes, she turned back towards the highway.
A knew this was it. If he didn't do something now, he'd spend the rest of his life regretting this moment. She had played her hand and now it was his turn. He grabbed her hand and tugged her close, stared deeply into those gray eyes and kissed her with a fervency that startled him. At first, she resisted, but she caved in to it. After what seemed like forever, he pulled her back, looked at the way the stars of the night sky reflected in her eyes and whispered those three little words. "I love you."
Time seemed to stand still. C was shocked, but that faded fast and a look of ecstasy sprang up across her face. "It's about time," she whispered in a barely audible voice.
They stood together for a few more minutes, seemingly forgetting that they were in a corn field in the middle of Nowheresville, Kansas.
"We better get going," A eventually muttered. "We've still got a ways to go before we make it to Wichita."
Hand in hand, they walked back. The rest of their drive that night was in total silence. After that initial blinding rush of emotions, A's head was flooded with thoughts. He looked over at her and noticed that she had her head leaning on the window, apparently asleep. What's going to happen next? How will B handle this? Could the two of them really make it work? Why did it feel so wrong to have these feelings for his ex's younger sister? A didn't have any answers for these questions that were running in his head. The only thing he knew for certain was that the next step wasn't going to be easy, no matter what it was.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Various lists of 25 things
With yesterday being my big 25, I've decided that it would be kind of a fun idea to make various lists of 25 favorite things in that particular category. And thus, my first list. Top 25 songs, according to Itunes
1. The Fall of Troy-I've got this symphony goin'
2. The Fall of Troy-F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X.
3. The Fall of Troy-McCaulay McCaulkin
4. Misery Signals-Anchor
5. The Fall of Troy-The Circus that has brought us back to...
6. Fair to Midland-Abigail
7. Mastodon-Oblivion
8. Mastodon-Divinations
9. Mastodon-Quintessence
10. Mastodon-Ghosts of Karelia
11. Mastodon-The Czar
12. Mastodon-Crack the Skye
13. Mastodon-The Last Baron
14. Animal Collective-Brother Sport
15. Lily Allen-Everyone's at it
16. Lily Allen-Back to the Start
17. Justice-D.A.N.C.E.
18. Foo Fighters-Everlong
19. Ratatat-Loud Pipes
20. Animal Collective-Summertime Clothers
21. Protest the Hero-Goddess Gagged
22. The Fall of Troy-F.C.P.S.I.T.S.G.E.P.G.E.P.G.E.P.
23. The Fall of Troy-Act One, Scene One
24. Every Time I Die-The New Black
25. The Fall of Troy-"You Got a Death Wish Johnny Truant?"
And, according to Last.fm, my top 25 artists since March of 2008
1. The Fall of Troy
2. Mastodon
3. Tegan and Sara
4. Tom Waits
5. Interpol
6. Slayer
7. Between the Buried and Me
8. Rush
9. Misery Signals
10. Animal Collective
11. Arcade Fire
12. Shiny Toy Guns
13. Incubus
14. Lily Allen
15. Metric
16. Every Time I Die
17. Meshuggah
18. Fair to Midland
19. Emery
20. Sigur Ros
21. Protest the Hero
22. Children of Bodom
23. Amon Amarth
24. Norma Jean
25. Blind Guardian
Top 25 books
1. Gravity's Rainbow
2. Ulysses
3. Lolita
4. Infinite Jest
5. The Picture of Dorian Gray
6. The Crying of Lot 49
7. Moby Dick
8. Middlemarch
9. The Sound and the Fury
10. V.
11. Crime and Punishment
12. Kafka on the Shore
13. Anna Karenina
14. The Lord of the Rings
15. The Idiot
16. The Count of Monte Cristo
17. No Country for Old Men
18. Fahrenheit 451
19. Revolutionary Road
20. Oil!
21. Dune
22. The Turn of the Screw
23. The Stand
24. Norwegian Wood
25. Vineland
More lists to come in the future!
1. The Fall of Troy-I've got this symphony goin'
2. The Fall of Troy-F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X.
3. The Fall of Troy-McCaulay McCaulkin
4. Misery Signals-Anchor
5. The Fall of Troy-The Circus that has brought us back to...
6. Fair to Midland-Abigail
7. Mastodon-Oblivion
8. Mastodon-Divinations
9. Mastodon-Quintessence
10. Mastodon-Ghosts of Karelia
11. Mastodon-The Czar
12. Mastodon-Crack the Skye
13. Mastodon-The Last Baron
14. Animal Collective-Brother Sport
15. Lily Allen-Everyone's at it
16. Lily Allen-Back to the Start
17. Justice-D.A.N.C.E.
18. Foo Fighters-Everlong
19. Ratatat-Loud Pipes
20. Animal Collective-Summertime Clothers
21. Protest the Hero-Goddess Gagged
22. The Fall of Troy-F.C.P.S.I.T.S.G.E.P.G.E.P.G.E.P.
23. The Fall of Troy-Act One, Scene One
24. Every Time I Die-The New Black
25. The Fall of Troy-"You Got a Death Wish Johnny Truant?"
And, according to Last.fm, my top 25 artists since March of 2008
1. The Fall of Troy
2. Mastodon
3. Tegan and Sara
4. Tom Waits
5. Interpol
6. Slayer
7. Between the Buried and Me
8. Rush
9. Misery Signals
10. Animal Collective
11. Arcade Fire
12. Shiny Toy Guns
13. Incubus
14. Lily Allen
15. Metric
16. Every Time I Die
17. Meshuggah
18. Fair to Midland
19. Emery
20. Sigur Ros
21. Protest the Hero
22. Children of Bodom
23. Amon Amarth
24. Norma Jean
25. Blind Guardian
Top 25 books
1. Gravity's Rainbow
2. Ulysses
3. Lolita
4. Infinite Jest
5. The Picture of Dorian Gray
6. The Crying of Lot 49
7. Moby Dick
8. Middlemarch
9. The Sound and the Fury
10. V.
11. Crime and Punishment
12. Kafka on the Shore
13. Anna Karenina
14. The Lord of the Rings
15. The Idiot
16. The Count of Monte Cristo
17. No Country for Old Men
18. Fahrenheit 451
19. Revolutionary Road
20. Oil!
21. Dune
22. The Turn of the Screw
23. The Stand
24. Norwegian Wood
25. Vineland
More lists to come in the future!
Monday, May 16, 2011
5/16 Poem
Bit of poetry I wrote just now. Rather rough draft and not quite sure what to do with it. Untitled at the moment. Comments and critiques are appreciated.
Hands shaking, hearts breaking,
Light dying, lips lying.
But hope lives still.
Drink, have your fill.
Live for the thrill,
Dance until night fails
Day brings happier trails.
Life always prevails.
Hands shaking, hearts breaking,
Light dying, lips lying.
But hope lives still.
Drink, have your fill.
Live for the thrill,
Dance until night fails
Day brings happier trails.
Life always prevails.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Bar project
Smoke from cigars and cigarettes hangs over the room, forming a thin curtain. Evening is creeping in, but the patrons don't seem to notice. A table in the back houses a group of five engrossed in a poker game; the only sounds from that direction of the bar the clink of poker chips and the occasional guffaw and sigh at the hands of fortune and its mistress. None of the other patrons pay them any mind. At the bar, there are several men mulling into glasses of various degrees of empty containing liquors ranging from vodka to scotch. Each is lost in his own misery. An old analog television is displaying a baseball game and a couple of fellows are intent upon the game. Local team is down by five runs and it's the top of the eighth, neither is expecting the team to pull off a victory here. An old jukebox stands in one of the corners, playing blues that fall on deaf ears. These people know the blues, they live it everyday. For most of them, this bar is like a second home, an escape from the mundane lives they live in offices, warehouses, and local diners. The bar has stood here for decades, tucked in between a barber shop and an abandoned building that once sold vacuums and their accessories. Of course, that store went out of business back in 76 and no one has bothered with it since then. One of the baseball fans groans and shakes his head. Another three and out, a wasted inning.
The door creaks open and a man comes in carrying a newspaper folded under one of his arms. No one even bothers to glance over at him as he makes his way over to a table away from everyone else. He quietly pulls the newspaper out and lights up a cigarette, taking his time savoring it as he scans through the paper. Minutes later, another man comes in, younger than the first by about ten years or so. The second man heads over to the bar and orders a cheap beer before joining the first.
"You're late," newspaper says, never taking his eyes from the paper
"Traffic," is young's answer. He's hesitant to look the older man in the eyes and so diverts his gaze to the beer before him. It's obvious that he's nervous about something, fidgeting his hands and casting looks around the room as if every other patron there is involved in some conspiracy against him. There's a screech from a chair as one of the baseball watchers gets up and leaves, disgusted by his teams performance.
"Smoke?" the older man asks, digging into his pockets for his box of cigarettes and yet still managing to not once look at the younger man.
"I don't smoke," the younger man says defensively.
"Of course you don't," the older man says with a chuckle. He lights up, and turns the page of his paper. There's a moment of silence between the two of them as he continues to read whatever has him entranced. The door opens again and admits two women still garbed in their waitress attire from the diner across the street. They chatter amongst themselves and settle down at a table away from the two men. Finally, the older man puts out his cigarette and speaks. "What happened last night?"
The younger man scratches his head and starts to stutter, sweat popping out on his forehead. "We got a rat," he finally manages to get out.
For the first time since the younger man joined him, the older one gives him a look. The way the younger man acted, it's clear he would have preferred not to have this attention on him. "No shit. You think you're some kind of smart guy, stating the obvious like that?"
"N-no boss. I ain't smart at all."
"Of course you aren't, you little schmuck. So they got Brady and Lee. How did you manage to avoid the pigs?"
Sweat was pouring more profusely. "I kinda, uh, got a phone call, on my cell phone." Silence, so he decided to continue. "It was Ellie, my sister. Our father had a heart attack last night. I went back to the car to talk to her and the next thing I know, the place is buzzing with pigs. They must've had some kinda tip or something."
"Family is important."
Relief showed instantly on the younger man's face. "Yeah, boss. He's okay, should be leaving the hospital in the morning."
"I'm glad to hear that O'Brian. Now where's my money?"
Horror replaced relief. "Our man wasn't there. He, he wasn't."
"You're telling me, you lost two hundred pounds of blow to the pigs, and you didn't get any fucking money." His voice was calm and his face showed no real emotion at all.
"It wasn't my fault!" O'Brian was scrambling for some sort of explanation, but he knew that nothing would appease this angered god.
"You know I don't like mistakes. And I don't like excuses either." Reaching into the same pocket as his cigarettes, the older man pulled out a small handgun.
"You ain't gonna shoot me here!" the younger man was frantic. "There's people here and you know I have a family! I'll do whatev-"
The bang of the gun didn't even cause the other patrons to stir. O'Brian's body slumped over, blood and brain matter oozing from the hole in his skull. Brushing pieces of the younger man off of him, the older man stood and went to the bartender. "Buy everyone a round on me," he said slapping a hundred dollar bill on the table. "I'll have someone come by to clean up later tonight." With a nod from the bartender, the older man left the bar.
The door creaks open and a man comes in carrying a newspaper folded under one of his arms. No one even bothers to glance over at him as he makes his way over to a table away from everyone else. He quietly pulls the newspaper out and lights up a cigarette, taking his time savoring it as he scans through the paper. Minutes later, another man comes in, younger than the first by about ten years or so. The second man heads over to the bar and orders a cheap beer before joining the first.
"You're late," newspaper says, never taking his eyes from the paper
"Traffic," is young's answer. He's hesitant to look the older man in the eyes and so diverts his gaze to the beer before him. It's obvious that he's nervous about something, fidgeting his hands and casting looks around the room as if every other patron there is involved in some conspiracy against him. There's a screech from a chair as one of the baseball watchers gets up and leaves, disgusted by his teams performance.
"Smoke?" the older man asks, digging into his pockets for his box of cigarettes and yet still managing to not once look at the younger man.
"I don't smoke," the younger man says defensively.
"Of course you don't," the older man says with a chuckle. He lights up, and turns the page of his paper. There's a moment of silence between the two of them as he continues to read whatever has him entranced. The door opens again and admits two women still garbed in their waitress attire from the diner across the street. They chatter amongst themselves and settle down at a table away from the two men. Finally, the older man puts out his cigarette and speaks. "What happened last night?"
The younger man scratches his head and starts to stutter, sweat popping out on his forehead. "We got a rat," he finally manages to get out.
For the first time since the younger man joined him, the older one gives him a look. The way the younger man acted, it's clear he would have preferred not to have this attention on him. "No shit. You think you're some kind of smart guy, stating the obvious like that?"
"N-no boss. I ain't smart at all."
"Of course you aren't, you little schmuck. So they got Brady and Lee. How did you manage to avoid the pigs?"
Sweat was pouring more profusely. "I kinda, uh, got a phone call, on my cell phone." Silence, so he decided to continue. "It was Ellie, my sister. Our father had a heart attack last night. I went back to the car to talk to her and the next thing I know, the place is buzzing with pigs. They must've had some kinda tip or something."
"Family is important."
Relief showed instantly on the younger man's face. "Yeah, boss. He's okay, should be leaving the hospital in the morning."
"I'm glad to hear that O'Brian. Now where's my money?"
Horror replaced relief. "Our man wasn't there. He, he wasn't."
"You're telling me, you lost two hundred pounds of blow to the pigs, and you didn't get any fucking money." His voice was calm and his face showed no real emotion at all.
"It wasn't my fault!" O'Brian was scrambling for some sort of explanation, but he knew that nothing would appease this angered god.
"You know I don't like mistakes. And I don't like excuses either." Reaching into the same pocket as his cigarettes, the older man pulled out a small handgun.
"You ain't gonna shoot me here!" the younger man was frantic. "There's people here and you know I have a family! I'll do whatev-"
The bang of the gun didn't even cause the other patrons to stir. O'Brian's body slumped over, blood and brain matter oozing from the hole in his skull. Brushing pieces of the younger man off of him, the older man stood and went to the bartender. "Buy everyone a round on me," he said slapping a hundred dollar bill on the table. "I'll have someone come by to clean up later tonight." With a nod from the bartender, the older man left the bar.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The landscape of Tulsa and its surrounding suburbs are encased in a white prison of snow. I'm not quite sure when I went from being excited for snow to dreading it. Probably around the time I started to drive around it. Thankfully, Tulsa's about as hormonal as a teenager when it comes to weather patterns so this shouldn't last too much longer. Things I also wished wouldn't last much longer? Construction. It's everywhere in this godforsaken city. Literally, you can't get from one end of the town to the other without running into half a dozen construction zones. The city's too poor to keep the streetlights on, but there are dozens of projects scattered across the city. Makes a lot of sense. Let's not forget that some of these have been going on for over a year and a half and don't look to be ending anytime soon. I've got a feeling Betty White will outlive some of these projects. On a slightly more positive note, there are a few good concerts coming up soon. Periphery, Fair to Midland and Interpol, all in April.
Well, I guess the reason I started this whole blog thing was to give me some practice and hopefully inspire me to take writing a little more seriously. I may not be James Joyce or Thomas Pynchon, but maybe someday I'll write a novel of some worth for someone to read. I've got so many ideas, it's hard to pick one and just go with it. Oh, you can expect whatever I write to be full of really weird stuff and to be somewhat depressing. Hopefully in a comic way of course. Not everyone has the dark sense of humor I do, so I'm sure some people won't get it. That's it for now, I'll come up with something more coherent next time.
Well, I guess the reason I started this whole blog thing was to give me some practice and hopefully inspire me to take writing a little more seriously. I may not be James Joyce or Thomas Pynchon, but maybe someday I'll write a novel of some worth for someone to read. I've got so many ideas, it's hard to pick one and just go with it. Oh, you can expect whatever I write to be full of really weird stuff and to be somewhat depressing. Hopefully in a comic way of course. Not everyone has the dark sense of humor I do, so I'm sure some people won't get it. That's it for now, I'll come up with something more coherent next time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)