"you don't have to let go..." she heard through the pounding in her ears. "you can control it!"
"I can't... it's too much for me to handle!" she screamed from several feet above.
Ending it all now would solve several problems. She could destroy the next hundred square miles with ease. Flying higher she scoped the area. Several towns would perish if she unleashed this terror. Clenched fists blazed with an internal fire she called upon in times of need. Slowly her knees pulled into her chest and she raised her arms to cross them before her face. All she had to do was conjure up the energy.
The tears wouldn't stop, even though her eyes were closed. She could feel the wet drips roll down her cheeks until the fire kissed them away. Each flame flickered up in response to her anxiety. They fed on her anger and fear which could fuel them far longer than oxogen.
She opened her eyes and saw him below. He was crying too, but not out of fear, out of compassion. He didn't want to see her hurting, he didn't want the flames to wipe away her tears. That was his job. He held his hands out to her and she could feel his love. Not only in his eyes, she felt his very soul reaching out to her own.
Lowering her hands, legs and body temperature, the flames receded. She wasn't ready to meet him just yet - this was a defeat in her eyes. She looked at him one last time and shot into the sky leaving a trail of energy behind her like a shooting star...
(sorry - several different storylines all mixed into one. still trying to figure out my own style. and don't be worries about the subject.... there are lots of scenes i've been meaning to write about and some of them are dark and scary, others silly and light)
^_^
Monday, August 02, 2010
Sunday, August 01, 2010
freewrite (thanks to sorcerer's apprentice)
she stepped up out of the mouth of the subway. a gust of wind splashed her face with a few raindrops of the finishing storm. it was a refreshing chill after being in the stifling heat underground.
her pace was slower than normal due to a growing headache. each footstep pounded her skull so she padded lightly on the cracked sidewalk. at least the rain was helping cool off her head.
she reached the street corner and her book bag started to vibrate. it was either a text or a voicemail, she thought, until it kept going. a smile slipped across her face as she tried to guess the caller and as she pulled the phone out of her bag the smile faded.
i really don't want to write about that - it's an unhappy subject and while my mind requires me to write about it i refuse to :(
not tonight.
her pace was slower than normal due to a growing headache. each footstep pounded her skull so she padded lightly on the cracked sidewalk. at least the rain was helping cool off her head.
she reached the street corner and her book bag started to vibrate. it was either a text or a voicemail, she thought, until it kept going. a smile slipped across her face as she tried to guess the caller and as she pulled the phone out of her bag the smile faded.
i really don't want to write about that - it's an unhappy subject and while my mind requires me to write about it i refuse to :(
not tonight.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
freewrite
i have energy and i need to write now when i have a chance. it's amazing how the city can take on so many faces when your mood changes. i've seen at least 10 different types of beautiful - the kind that makes you cry, the kind you see from crying, a greener kind when i'm happy, blues when i'm sad... wah don't like where that sentence was going.
maybe i should try dr. wicked's lab. nah, i'm doing okay writing so far, just nothing with substance. i'll figure something out.
it always came back to the red door. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened that day.
wow... i was about to write a part 2 to this but i feel like i can't write better than i did then.... scratch that. Here goes nothing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...my feet stumbled forward and i was standing beyond the gate. with my next breath, my hand was caressing the painted wood. and as i exhaled, the door closed behind me.
it was dark inside. my eyes were still used to the brightness of the morning but my nose led the way. i followed the faint smell of bacon and cinnamon toast and headed down a hall of some kind. It was long and narrow and i held my hands out for additional guidance. no furniture or paintings were here, but there was a small molding about half way up. if i knew more about architecture, i could describe it better. ornate gargoyles bit at my fingers about every five steps. by the time i made it to the end of the hall, my eyes could see what was around me.
the hall i just went down was a service entrance. it was wide, but meant only for transporting goods. arrows just beyond the red door were painted on the wall, directing where each item should go: to the right, food and pantry items, to the left, furniture and linens and up the stairs - clothing. there were sconces above me, but you'd need a ladder to get to them. flameless candles stood atop each metal platform and offered light when used. no electricity was present in this part of the house.
finding all i could, i turned to continue down the hall, then came across a heavy velvet curtain. Just as i reached out to pull it aside a knocking sound came from the wall. i froze in horror, thinking for the first time i've invaded someone's house. what if i was found? how could i explain my trespassing? Maybe if i could just get a little farther into the house. the smell of bacon was much stronger on this side of the hallway, perhaps the kitchen was near?
i pulled the curtain aside and was greeted by an empty home library. Bookshelves lined every wall and even framed an old TV set in it's wooden box. dainty furniture was placed just right for conversation, but didn't look all that comfortable to sit in. A victrola sat in one corner with it's matching records on the bookshelf just behind it. a door to her left was closed and dark from beneath but a door straight ahead was wide open, sunlight pouring in. this room had no windows, as if to protect the books from sun exposure. she'd love to return and see what books were on each shelf, maybe on her way out.
(some how i suddenly turned to the third person... i think i might end up doing that for the story, since it seems to come naturally. but i'll return to telling my story again - sorry about that :D)
As i got to the middle of the room i heard another sound from behind the bookshelf. it was similar to a rat trying to escape quickly from a predator since the movements were quick and sporadic. i froze each time i heard the noise until it seemed to stop. i went on to the next room.
this looked like a bedroom as it had several antique dressers but the bed was missing. i took a look at each to see the cracking paint and remembered a time when i was invited to the CEO's house as part of the new employee hiring welcome. his house included several dated pieces, which i thought was silly to have since they were all cracked and looked broken. this type of furniture seemed to fit in this place though. it didn't look as if someone placed it here - but as if it just belonged. a whispering call asked me to touch it, to see if it was real and my fingers obliged. the cracked paint didn't crumble under my hand but seemed to welcome my touch. "love me" it called out, "we've been incredibly lonely."
i pulled back a bit, as my heart felt a twinge of pain. everything here was a bit sad. something or someone was missing and this place wasn't complete until that thing was found. i moved onto another piece that was set into the wall. Only the drawers and doors stood out from the wallpaper. i pulled on one drawer but nothing happened. maybe it was stuck so i pulled a little harder. After a third pull, i gave up on that drawer. I tried another just beneath it and that one took the entire draw panel right off. now i've destroyed someone's property. what should i do now, i thought.
worry didn't have enough time to set in. As i tried to put the drawer face back, i noticed that behind the face panel i removed was a richly colored wood panel. . i knocked and the panel was solid wood. there was no way a real drawer could fit in there. so i followed the wall to see where the door might lead. it was a wall that jutted out just beyond the bathroom. it sectioned off the room for what looked like function of a dresser, but only the face was implemented. As i went around to the back of the wall, i could see a shoddy cover-up of a door to what must have been a building structure some years ago. (i'll really have to work this one out to get what's in my head on paper)
following that wall and the bad cover up, i heard a rustling, just like the knocking earlier. I looked over to find a staircase that was sectioned off by baby safety gates. paper was moving around on it's own and when i moved in closer, i found a small grey monkey trying to get up to see me. this grey monkey was familiar as i knew it's owner. but to think i'd be in his house.... i held my breath and listened to the heavy footsteps making their way down the stairs...
maybe i should try dr. wicked's lab. nah, i'm doing okay writing so far, just nothing with substance. i'll figure something out.
it always came back to the red door. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened that day.
wow... i was about to write a part 2 to this but i feel like i can't write better than i did then.... scratch that. Here goes nothing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...my feet stumbled forward and i was standing beyond the gate. with my next breath, my hand was caressing the painted wood. and as i exhaled, the door closed behind me.
it was dark inside. my eyes were still used to the brightness of the morning but my nose led the way. i followed the faint smell of bacon and cinnamon toast and headed down a hall of some kind. It was long and narrow and i held my hands out for additional guidance. no furniture or paintings were here, but there was a small molding about half way up. if i knew more about architecture, i could describe it better. ornate gargoyles bit at my fingers about every five steps. by the time i made it to the end of the hall, my eyes could see what was around me.
the hall i just went down was a service entrance. it was wide, but meant only for transporting goods. arrows just beyond the red door were painted on the wall, directing where each item should go: to the right, food and pantry items, to the left, furniture and linens and up the stairs - clothing. there were sconces above me, but you'd need a ladder to get to them. flameless candles stood atop each metal platform and offered light when used. no electricity was present in this part of the house.
finding all i could, i turned to continue down the hall, then came across a heavy velvet curtain. Just as i reached out to pull it aside a knocking sound came from the wall. i froze in horror, thinking for the first time i've invaded someone's house. what if i was found? how could i explain my trespassing? Maybe if i could just get a little farther into the house. the smell of bacon was much stronger on this side of the hallway, perhaps the kitchen was near?
i pulled the curtain aside and was greeted by an empty home library. Bookshelves lined every wall and even framed an old TV set in it's wooden box. dainty furniture was placed just right for conversation, but didn't look all that comfortable to sit in. A victrola sat in one corner with it's matching records on the bookshelf just behind it. a door to her left was closed and dark from beneath but a door straight ahead was wide open, sunlight pouring in. this room had no windows, as if to protect the books from sun exposure. she'd love to return and see what books were on each shelf, maybe on her way out.
(some how i suddenly turned to the third person... i think i might end up doing that for the story, since it seems to come naturally. but i'll return to telling my story again - sorry about that :D)
As i got to the middle of the room i heard another sound from behind the bookshelf. it was similar to a rat trying to escape quickly from a predator since the movements were quick and sporadic. i froze each time i heard the noise until it seemed to stop. i went on to the next room.
this looked like a bedroom as it had several antique dressers but the bed was missing. i took a look at each to see the cracking paint and remembered a time when i was invited to the CEO's house as part of the new employee hiring welcome. his house included several dated pieces, which i thought was silly to have since they were all cracked and looked broken. this type of furniture seemed to fit in this place though. it didn't look as if someone placed it here - but as if it just belonged. a whispering call asked me to touch it, to see if it was real and my fingers obliged. the cracked paint didn't crumble under my hand but seemed to welcome my touch. "love me" it called out, "we've been incredibly lonely."
i pulled back a bit, as my heart felt a twinge of pain. everything here was a bit sad. something or someone was missing and this place wasn't complete until that thing was found. i moved onto another piece that was set into the wall. Only the drawers and doors stood out from the wallpaper. i pulled on one drawer but nothing happened. maybe it was stuck so i pulled a little harder. After a third pull, i gave up on that drawer. I tried another just beneath it and that one took the entire draw panel right off. now i've destroyed someone's property. what should i do now, i thought.
worry didn't have enough time to set in. As i tried to put the drawer face back, i noticed that behind the face panel i removed was a richly colored wood panel. . i knocked and the panel was solid wood. there was no way a real drawer could fit in there. so i followed the wall to see where the door might lead. it was a wall that jutted out just beyond the bathroom. it sectioned off the room for what looked like function of a dresser, but only the face was implemented. As i went around to the back of the wall, i could see a shoddy cover-up of a door to what must have been a building structure some years ago. (i'll really have to work this one out to get what's in my head on paper)
following that wall and the bad cover up, i heard a rustling, just like the knocking earlier. I looked over to find a staircase that was sectioned off by baby safety gates. paper was moving around on it's own and when i moved in closer, i found a small grey monkey trying to get up to see me. this grey monkey was familiar as i knew it's owner. but to think i'd be in his house.... i held my breath and listened to the heavy footsteps making their way down the stairs...
Friday, June 04, 2010
need to get out of my head....
she ran. she had to run away from it. the thing that clouded her mind, her every waking moment. had to get away. she closed her eyes and slowed to a stop. her hands rose to her face as her knees gave out. the tears came.
where was she? she couldn't open her eyes. the effort seemed too much. all energy she had was used to banish the thoughts that threatened to suffocate her. was she still standing? no, she could feel the cold wet concrete through the seat of her jeans.
it could have been hours or seconds that she sat there and fought off the images and assumptions. time was not recognized. there was one phrase, one feeling she was trying to protect.
"am i being treated fairly?" it sounded hollow if she said it aloud. keeping it in her head didn't give it enough importance. had the past really screwed up her point of perception? she wasn't sure if she was capable of enjoying something at face value any more.
a smile or kind gesture was used to prepare her for a truth that was not easy to tell. a caress was forced by an external stimulant. complements only meant something was wrong. was she wrong for thinking this way, no - this was what she did to mask her true feelings.
when she was little, she was honest and blunt, inconsiderate to how her words affected other people. it took her several painful lessons to see that some thoughts are better kept in her head. not everyone wants to know how you feel. sometimes people just like to have someone listen. she learned well and started to keep her thoughts to herself.
as she closed her thoughts up, she started to become self conscious. all the ideas started to fill her head and it became very crowded. she started to internalize the feelings she had toward others and didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. once and a while she opened up to tell someone an honest idea and she was laughed at. this made her close up even more.
people became objects to judge on sight so she knew how to protect herself. no one would ever be let inside. she would be safe so long as she kept a distance from all around her. she didn't need them anyway.
(wah... got hungry, got frosted flakes and lost the rhythm... maybe will finish later :P )
where was she? she couldn't open her eyes. the effort seemed too much. all energy she had was used to banish the thoughts that threatened to suffocate her. was she still standing? no, she could feel the cold wet concrete through the seat of her jeans.
it could have been hours or seconds that she sat there and fought off the images and assumptions. time was not recognized. there was one phrase, one feeling she was trying to protect.
"am i being treated fairly?" it sounded hollow if she said it aloud. keeping it in her head didn't give it enough importance. had the past really screwed up her point of perception? she wasn't sure if she was capable of enjoying something at face value any more.
a smile or kind gesture was used to prepare her for a truth that was not easy to tell. a caress was forced by an external stimulant. complements only meant something was wrong. was she wrong for thinking this way, no - this was what she did to mask her true feelings.
when she was little, she was honest and blunt, inconsiderate to how her words affected other people. it took her several painful lessons to see that some thoughts are better kept in her head. not everyone wants to know how you feel. sometimes people just like to have someone listen. she learned well and started to keep her thoughts to herself.
as she closed her thoughts up, she started to become self conscious. all the ideas started to fill her head and it became very crowded. she started to internalize the feelings she had toward others and didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. once and a while she opened up to tell someone an honest idea and she was laughed at. this made her close up even more.
people became objects to judge on sight so she knew how to protect herself. no one would ever be let inside. she would be safe so long as she kept a distance from all around her. she didn't need them anyway.
(wah... got hungry, got frosted flakes and lost the rhythm... maybe will finish later :P )
Monday, May 03, 2010
nyc writing (Harlem's Hollowed History)
inspired was i by a walk down 137th street.
castles past their prime stared down at me with curious eyes.
'would she see us, would she care' they cried to each other.
i touched the wet bricks that water wore away.
some would claim the pipes had leaked, but i knew this damage.
these buildings had seen better days, the grooves were from tears.
in a time long ago and sadly forgotten, this used to be a kingdom.
grand lords and ladies danced in each hall and celebrated life like none other.
oppression couldn't reach them here, or so they thought.
the tides rolled in and things changed for the worst.
living became a burden and the kingdom was slowly fading from sight.
each proud building was left to deteriorate like their spirit of celebration.
the wonder of how things were consumes me.
there is a hunger for knowledge of the past while trying to preserve it in the present.
just think of all that could have been offered if the celebration always continued
castles past their prime stared down at me with curious eyes.
'would she see us, would she care' they cried to each other.
i touched the wet bricks that water wore away.
some would claim the pipes had leaked, but i knew this damage.
these buildings had seen better days, the grooves were from tears.
in a time long ago and sadly forgotten, this used to be a kingdom.
grand lords and ladies danced in each hall and celebrated life like none other.
oppression couldn't reach them here, or so they thought.
the tides rolled in and things changed for the worst.
living became a burden and the kingdom was slowly fading from sight.
each proud building was left to deteriorate like their spirit of celebration.
the wonder of how things were consumes me.
there is a hunger for knowledge of the past while trying to preserve it in the present.
just think of all that could have been offered if the celebration always continued
Friday, April 30, 2010
midnight freewrite
i know i should be sleeping but i felt i should write. it's been so long since i've wirtten a story that i feel it's time to put something on paper. i could also be because i'm reading this good book called "a children's story" pleas eforgive me for for forgetting the writer - i'll look it up later and maybe comment on it.
so i was thiking about a story that welnt something like thiss.....
wah, this freewrite is not coming out how i want it. i have to exercise this muscle - it's terribly weak again and makes me want to cry. my wants and needs are so spread out it's hard to focus on just one thing. there's so much fear i'll miss out on something that i tend to do a little of everything insteadof a lot of one thing.
the stories are constant in my head. every face i pass has a story, every building, every crack in the sidewalk. my city calls out to me begging for it's story to be told. but not the one you see at barnes and noble. not the one you read about at the library. the very soul of my city calls out for the true story to be told.
i'm saddened because i feel i'm not up to the task. but she calls out to mek, every night i pass through her neighborhoods. I can see her - in the child that waved hello on the subway and smiled, he needs life on paper. a story must be written about every thing every living being.
my timeis plentiful and there are enough stories to write in a lifetime and more. only how to start. poems, short stories, not ever a novel - that would be too presumptuous. it must be in the style one experiences. fleeting moments and carefree passes through the hall. that is how i'd tell her story.
so i was thiking about a story that welnt something like thiss.....
wah, this freewrite is not coming out how i want it. i have to exercise this muscle - it's terribly weak again and makes me want to cry. my wants and needs are so spread out it's hard to focus on just one thing. there's so much fear i'll miss out on something that i tend to do a little of everything insteadof a lot of one thing.
the stories are constant in my head. every face i pass has a story, every building, every crack in the sidewalk. my city calls out to me begging for it's story to be told. but not the one you see at barnes and noble. not the one you read about at the library. the very soul of my city calls out for the true story to be told.
i'm saddened because i feel i'm not up to the task. but she calls out to mek, every night i pass through her neighborhoods. I can see her - in the child that waved hello on the subway and smiled, he needs life on paper. a story must be written about every thing every living being.
my timeis plentiful and there are enough stories to write in a lifetime and more. only how to start. poems, short stories, not ever a novel - that would be too presumptuous. it must be in the style one experiences. fleeting moments and carefree passes through the hall. that is how i'd tell her story.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
endless love is so cliché
He could see the faint glow of the moon's reflection just over the trees. The lake must be beautiful, he thought. Stars twinkled down to show him the way through the Pines and Firs as his steps quickened. This time he was away for too long.
It wasn't a far walk to the lake and he thought it best to leave Cassie behind. Her hooves would make too much noise along the path. Not that he needed to be quiet in these parts, but disturbing the silence didn't feel right. At his best, his boots whispered along the dirt path. She wouldn't mind, though. It was his way of telling her, "i'm coming...soon."
The last tree cleared and he dropped to his knees. There, on the lake, was the moon's reflection. While it's luminance lit up the area, it was not the source of the light shone over the trees. His hand trembled as he reached out to a figure in the water.
"Forgive my absence. It's been far too long since..."
"Hush, my love," her voice danced to his ears. "You're here now. Come to me."
He stood, eyes fixated on the light in the lake. One foot after another he was drawn to her. She called him and he obeyed. As he neared the lake's edge his eyes adjusted to the light. Little by little her form materialized. The outer curves of her shoulders were the first he noticed. Their width were matched by her round full hips. Next he could see the back of her head trailing with a braid that draped over one shoulder.
She turned to face him with puffy eyes and arms crossed. While her voice could hide any trouble she was having, her body could not.
"I had a terrible dream," she began. "You became sick and died. Nothing i did, nothing i tried could help you get better. There was nothing i..." her voice trailed off.
He moved in closer and listened.
"I couldn't help you. I couldn't save you. I was hurt that my time with you was so short," her arms grew heavy and fell to her sides. She dropped her head and continued "Nothing... all the love that i had wasn't enough to save you. i couldn't keep you with me."
His hand rose up to caress her cheek as a warm tear rolled down his fingers.
"I'm here now, we have this moment. Let's not waste this precious time we have together," he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
"My love for you i so deep i cannot love another if we should part. I want you to know, until your last breath that i have always loved you. I don't want you to feel that you were ever alone," she mumbled into his shoulder.
(grrr.... somehow this didn't turn out how i wanted it to.... perhaps i'll revisit. she was supposed to be the strong one professing her love - but maybe that's just too mushy :P)
It wasn't a far walk to the lake and he thought it best to leave Cassie behind. Her hooves would make too much noise along the path. Not that he needed to be quiet in these parts, but disturbing the silence didn't feel right. At his best, his boots whispered along the dirt path. She wouldn't mind, though. It was his way of telling her, "i'm coming...soon."
The last tree cleared and he dropped to his knees. There, on the lake, was the moon's reflection. While it's luminance lit up the area, it was not the source of the light shone over the trees. His hand trembled as he reached out to a figure in the water.
"Forgive my absence. It's been far too long since..."
"Hush, my love," her voice danced to his ears. "You're here now. Come to me."
He stood, eyes fixated on the light in the lake. One foot after another he was drawn to her. She called him and he obeyed. As he neared the lake's edge his eyes adjusted to the light. Little by little her form materialized. The outer curves of her shoulders were the first he noticed. Their width were matched by her round full hips. Next he could see the back of her head trailing with a braid that draped over one shoulder.
She turned to face him with puffy eyes and arms crossed. While her voice could hide any trouble she was having, her body could not.
"I had a terrible dream," she began. "You became sick and died. Nothing i did, nothing i tried could help you get better. There was nothing i..." her voice trailed off.
He moved in closer and listened.
"I couldn't help you. I couldn't save you. I was hurt that my time with you was so short," her arms grew heavy and fell to her sides. She dropped her head and continued "Nothing... all the love that i had wasn't enough to save you. i couldn't keep you with me."
His hand rose up to caress her cheek as a warm tear rolled down his fingers.
"I'm here now, we have this moment. Let's not waste this precious time we have together," he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
"My love for you i so deep i cannot love another if we should part. I want you to know, until your last breath that i have always loved you. I don't want you to feel that you were ever alone," she mumbled into his shoulder.
(grrr.... somehow this didn't turn out how i wanted it to.... perhaps i'll revisit. she was supposed to be the strong one professing her love - but maybe that's just too mushy :P)
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