As our process of packing for our move has intensified I'm afraid my only writing has been history term papers. Sad really. I have lots of ideas to draw from right now.
Oh well, hopefully I will have a spare moment soon to write some more.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Writing
I'm having a hard time finding the time necessary to give my writing the proper time it needs to be developed to its best. Right now everything that has been posted is basically a rough draft. Sad really. I've been doing most of my writing in the short amount of time that I have before my writing class and even during the class.
The Old Theatre
The old theatre was empty. It had been that way for decades. The collection of natural filth covered its past splendour; its luster now muted. For generations it had been the heart of the community but they both died together.
Sitting in the aisle the old man cried, recording his last etching of his childhood memories. His mind filled the seats, the stage and the screen. He saw his Grandfather, still alive, taking tickets and at once lying still in his casket. Then he saw his Father scolding him again for hanging from the balcony; the day his Father handed the keys of the theatre over to him; his Father's casket sitting next to his Grandfather's. His aging children grew before his eyes until they too were old. They did not want the keys to the theatre and he was too old. The old theatre was empty and tomorrow it would disappear.
Sitting in the aisle the old man cried, recording his last etching of his childhood memories. His mind filled the seats, the stage and the screen. He saw his Grandfather, still alive, taking tickets and at once lying still in his casket. Then he saw his Father scolding him again for hanging from the balcony; the day his Father handed the keys of the theatre over to him; his Father's casket sitting next to his Grandfather's. His aging children grew before his eyes until they too were old. They did not want the keys to the theatre and he was too old. The old theatre was empty and tomorrow it would disappear.
Black Ice
Why can't they hear me? The voices surround me and get louder and louder. I yell back but they do not hear me.
The lights go out.
What is happening?
Then the voices are gone. I reach out for someone; something. I hear someone yelling, but it's quiet. It sounds like it's coming from beside me. Someone yelling but quiet.
Dim lights come on and the yelling grows louder. More voices join in. I yell back. Again no one hears me. The lights brighten, spotlight bright. Again the voices get louder. Some talking; most yelling. My ears hurt. Then a dark figure faces me and the lights go out.
Again silence.
The lights go out.
What is happening?
Then the voices are gone. I reach out for someone; something. I hear someone yelling, but it's quiet. It sounds like it's coming from beside me. Someone yelling but quiet.
Dim lights come on and the yelling grows louder. More voices join in. I yell back. Again no one hears me. The lights brighten, spotlight bright. Again the voices get louder. Some talking; most yelling. My ears hurt. Then a dark figure faces me and the lights go out.
Again silence.
Story about something without saying what that something is.
I looked at my watch, 5 P.M. Quitting time. It was cold outside, thank goodness for car's heated seats. Any warmth right now would be comforting. My home was dark when I arrived. I turned on the lights and T.V. My home was alive now amd with dinner in the microwave I would reach the highlight of my day: reheated Salisbury Steak and a rerun of The Office. A new episode always made my day better but not today, looks like season two all over again.
Why is Dwight so crazy?
I checked my watch again; 10 P.M. Bed time. My bed was cold, a small pleasure, I slept better when it was. Tomorrow would be the same. Every day was always the same. Maybe tomorrow I'll have meatloaf.
Why is Dwight so crazy?
I checked my watch again; 10 P.M. Bed time. My bed was cold, a small pleasure, I slept better when it was. Tomorrow would be the same. Every day was always the same. Maybe tomorrow I'll have meatloaf.
Awakening
My phone began chirping at 9 A.M; horrid electric noise. I struggle to find it amidst my semi-conscious stupor and hit dismiss. Fifteen minutes later it chirps again. Then again after fifteen more minutes. My wife grumbles:
"Would you just get up already and let me sleep?!"
But I want more sleep too.
I roll out of bed, carefully stepping around the floorboard heater , fan, open dresser drawers and my wife's luggage left on the floor from her recent trip to her parents'. As I dress I hear the baby cry. Good morning life.
"Would you just get up already and let me sleep?!"
But I want more sleep too.
I roll out of bed, carefully stepping around the floorboard heater , fan, open dresser drawers and my wife's luggage left on the floor from her recent trip to her parents'. As I dress I hear the baby cry. Good morning life.
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