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And the Bitch is gone....an exercise in writing.

cloudy said:
It is, but it's hell to try to write something when your monitor keeps blinking on and off like some sort of strobe light gone ballistic. :mad:

*sigh*

Maybe it'll settle down later on.....but I doubt it.
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Did you kick it and curse? Thats the extent of my tech advice.:cool:
 
ABSTRUSE said:
I give you ABSolution.:rose:
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It's like the one little piece of freedom I'm able to have is to get online, and now that's fucked up, damn it.

I need to take it to the shop, I suppose....I'm certainly not going to try to get the money from tight-ass for a new one, he'd take way too much joy in telling me "no" Plus, it's a flat screen, and I don't want one of the other kind anymore - I've gotten spoiled.
 
cloudy said:
It's like the one little piece of freedom I'm able to have is to get online, and now that's fucked up, damn it.

I need to take it to the shop, I suppose....I'm certainly not going to try to get the money from tight-ass for a new one, he'd take way too much joy in telling me "no" Plus, it's a flat screen, and I don't want one of the other kind anymore - I've gotten spoiled.
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Fight for your freedom. I doubt he'd give you the $$$, bastard. Sell his organs on Ebay.
 
ABSTRUSE said:
Fight for your freedom. I doubt he'd give you the $$$, bastard. Sell his organs on Ebay.
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Good lord, don't tempt me, woman.

Hell, no one would want them - they're sure to be pickled by now, after who the hell knows how many years of drinking a twelve pack of beer every night. :rolleyes:

And he complains about me spending anything more than absolutely necessary.
 
cloudy said:
Good lord, don't tempt me, woman.

Hell, no one would want them - they're sure to be pickled by now, after who the hell knows how many years of drinking a twelve pack of beer every night. :rolleyes:

And he complains about me spending anything more than absolutely necessary.
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I think your next writing exercise will be on how you would methodically torture someone.:D
 
Striding contentedly along the quiet, tree lined road, I saw the signpost as I approached the crossroads; it was wooden, barely; obviously old, weather-beaten, that grey nondescript colour that wood takes on when it’s lost all semblance of sappy youth, and instead is more like a dried out skeleton, with its four shaky, broken fingers pointing in opposite directions.

I stopped to look up at the fingers, and was surprised to see lettering, clear and bold as the day it had been painted. As I looked, I read the strangest directions I’ve ever seen on a signpost.

North will take you through a snowy forest
South will take you to the ocean.
East will take you to a busy city street.
West will take you to a deserted village

To say I was surprised, was putting it mildly. I was in the middle of English Countryside, sunshine, blue skies, birds singing in the trees, I could hear them……..at which point I suddenly realised, I couldn’t. I turned slowly on my heel, looking back down the road, the way I had come, east, and was shocked to find that the quiet country road I had walked was no longer there. I was on the side of a busy main road with a car approaching me. I watched its speedy approach, mesmerised, my eyes following it as it came level with me, and as I turned to my left to watch it go past, it approached the sign post…………………………and disappeared !!!! Literally, as if it had simply driven through an invisible gate which had closed behind it.

I stood rooted to the spot in complete stunned shock, trying to make sense of the last few minutes.

I rubbed my eyes. The sign post was still there.

I looked back along the road, from where the car had driven, and it had returned to the country road I had walked.

Moving closer to the sign post, my legs moving automatically, I looked up at the arms, and slowly, deliberately read the directions again. Not really knowing what I was doing, I looked to the road now to my right, the north. I took a few steps along this road, which looked no different to the one I had just walked, but within a few steps, with no warning, suddenly found myself, ankle deep in snow, a strong, freezing wind blowing in my face. Once again, rooted to the spot, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I turned my head to look behind me and there still stood the gnarled, wizened sign post, bathed in a ray of sunlight sneaking between the thick trees surrounding the crossing. Drifting towards me, carried on the strong cold wind, I heard the eerie howl of a wolf, sending shivers down my spine. Quickly I turned and stepped back to the signpost.

Once more, as I turned to look behind me, the road had returned to its original form.

I was beginning to think I had fallen asleep at the side of the road, a sun-induced stupor, and was experiencing a wierd dream, until I felt the cold on my face and as I looked down, saw the remnants of snow still on my trousers and walking boots.

Taking a deep breath, I looked to the West road, and with some trepidation in my step……..
 
matriarch said:
Striding contentedly along the quiet, tree lined road, I saw the signpost as I approached the crossroads; it was wooden, barely; obviously old, weather-beaten, that grey nondescript colour that wood takes on when it’s lost all semblance of sappy youth, and instead is more like a dried out skeleton, with its four shaky, broken fingers pointing in opposite directions......<snip>
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You_Rock_Emoticon.gif



[brief hijack] look what I found!
2047.gif
[/brief hijack]
 
ABSTRUSE said:
Thank you Mat.......I'm very happy, love your perception:rose:
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I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Not sure where its heading.......I have an idea, but will think about it.

:rose:
 
NORTH

It was cold, colder than he had ever felt before and he pulled his jacket closer around the precious package. He wasn’t about to lose it after going through this icy hell to get it in the first place. Feeling it against his chest, secure and safe made him feel better.
The windswept snow now obscured the path he had taken before and the sleet hit his face like hundreds of tiny little needles stinging his cheeks and making him squint as he plodded along.
Each step made his muscles cry out in pain soon he would be warm and safe as he made out the faint glow of light ahead. Snow was pushing down into his boots and he could imagine his feet white and wrinkled with wetness. They started to sting with cold. It was only a few more yards until he would be warm again but it looked like it was miles away.
Pushing further through the knee deep snow his only thought was getting the package to it’s destination, it had to get there soon.
The wind was howling around his ears or was it the sound of wolves approaching, waiting for him to slip and fall before they made their move. His heart started to pump faster and his lungs ached from the bitter cold air, but he pressed onward. Suddenly he slipped going down on one knee, his right hand reaching out to break his fall was now without a glove. The swift winds pushed the snow over the spot where his hand had once been instantly burying the glove in a snowy tomb. Silently he cursed, he had special ordered the pair of Italian kid leather gloves as a birthday present to himself, a small luxury but now what good was one without the other? Pushing himself upright again he continued.
The distant light was now closer; he could make out the shape of the doorway now.
“Come on you can do it.” He told himself. “Almost there. No giving up now.”
His right hand reached out for the door handle while his other hand pressed against his chest making sure the package was still there. With stiff cold fingers he managed to grab the metal door handle, it burned with cold as he worked the latch and pulled himself inside.
He was greeted by a blast of heat as he pressed his back against the door that was being held open by the furious winds. Snow blew in across the tile floor in tiny swirls and then melted quickly in the warmth from the heated floor.
He shook the snow from his body and stamped his numb feet to release the snow that caked the bottom of his boots. As his eyes adjusted to the light of the room, he could see her standing there, her eyes filled with nervous anticipation as she wrung her hands. She watched as he pulled down his snow packed zipper and reached into his jacket.
In a silent exchange he set the package on the table before her and took off his jacket shaking the last bit of moisture to the already wet floor.
She licked her lips as she tore away at the brown paper that concealed the treasure she had waited so patiently for and prying the lid off the container she reached inside and pulled out the wrinkled green pickle.

“That was the last jar of Polish dills they had, the guy in the deli thought I was nuts to be out in this weather for a jar of pickles. Next time be pregnant during the summer please.” He said brusquely as he rubbed his hands through his wet hair.

She wrinkled her nose up at him as she crunched into the second one, sweeping the jar up in her hands and walked back into the living room to her comfy couch and fleece throw.
“Next time get horny in the spring.” She quipped back over her shoulder.



Okay, I've taken all the roads now. Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them........and I hope the rest of you will follow suit.
Abs.:rose:
 
ABSTRUSE said:
NORTH

Okay, I've taken all the roads now. Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them........and I hope the rest of you will follow suit.
Abs.:rose:
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lol. Love it. :)
 
I tried and I tried and i tried... But I need a better vocabulary and my fucking muse back to give justice to the ocean. :(


But an awesome thread it is. Kudos, J.
 
Liar said:
I tried and I tried and i tried... But I need a better vocabulary and my fucking muse back to give justice to the ocean. :(


But an awesome thread it is. Kudos, J.
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A poem, perhaps?
 
Liar said:
yeah, well... But I want to write prose again.
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I know that feeling. November/December it seemed like poetry was all I could produce. The poetry muse still grabs me more often than the prose muse. :rolleyes:
 
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