It's flash Friday again. All writers and non writers are welcome to put their three minute free write in the comments section on this post. Tell a friend. The more the merrier. :)
You place the fingers on the right keys, and I don't mean Alicia. Shit's not even spelled the same, and the wife wouldn't like it. But this isn't about that. This is about nothing. I thought of some good writing advice last night. People ask for it sometimes and I never have anything simple to say. Now, I do. KEEP YOUR NAILS NICE. I spend a lot of time looking at my fingers. It helps if I have decent looking nails.
Which makes me realize something. I finally learned to type while looking at the screen. Sometimes I look at my fingers anyway. But that's something. I've improved myself. I used to watch my mom type and it would blow my mind.
I had a dream last night. That's kind of unusual for me. I don't remember much of it, but it was a howling, lonely thing. I didn't enjoy it. I wished for another night of blackness.
I went to the Farmer's Market yesterday and I felt happy. I felt good to be spending time with my neighbors. I was happy to buy fresh peaches, gently stroking the fuzz and squeezing them ever so softly. My time is almost up. This time. It is time to go back to the editing that my Friday will be made of. I'm not complaining though. It could be made of worse things.
I write, but do I? I haven’t written anything worthwhile in a while. I look at my fingers and see growth from underuse. No longer chewed to bits by the lines they spin. The demons peek their heads out from the hole in my neck and continue to build a wall, brick by brick. They stop me. I need them to burn.ReplyDelete
Anyone have any matches?
Typing 94 wpm doesn’t mean a thing when the words are dammed. I need a chisel, an axe, some C4 to blow this thing wide open. The rush of vowels and consonants will be constant and over flowing. So much, the nubs that were my fingers will burn and smoke from keyboard friction.
I just need a demon hunter or an exorcist. Exorcise me. EXORCISE ME!
First time I've ever wished I was a priest. ;) Awesome piece, love it.Delete
Thanks! It's been a while and this was just what I needed. I'm sure there is somewhere on the internet you can register to become a priest... just not the Vatican kind. :PDelete
It sounded like a good idea at the time, she thought, smirking. Because isn’t that how those horror stories always play out? Seemed like a good idea at the time…we never thought anything would go wrong…he was always such a quiet guy… The chocolate vodka had warmed her insides and washed away the rotten afternoon. But soon the room, filling with people in thick sweaters and loud voices, felt too small and constricted and she had to get out, into the night. Maybe take the host’s dog for a walk. That felt like a good excuse to leave a party, one that no one would get in her face about. And she’d always loved Wendell, the mellowest dog in the world. He looked like he needed to get out of the crush, too. She found his leash and he followed her into the yard. It was so dark, no moon, no stars. She could barely even find the road. It bent in a funny way, and for a moment she lost the pavement, couldn’t negotiate the curve, but Wendell herded her in the right direction. She stopped in the middle of the street and inhaled gulps of crisp air. Her head spun, just a little. That’s when she heard the rustling, saw the glow of eyes in the underbrush. The leash whipped her hand and the dog vanished into the night.ReplyDelete
Sometimes I just can't bring myself to turn the shower off. My fingers are wrinkled, the skin on my chest is bright red from the hot water which now is beginning to sting as it rains down on me. I turn round and round in the steamy shower stall letting warm water carry soapy suds down the length of my legs toward the ever hungry drain. I have so much to accomplish in one shower. Some would spread it out into distinct rituals. Shaving in front of the mirror; brushing your teeth. I have combined these rites into one glorious and blessed event : the shower. I bring everything I need for it : razor, shaving cream, tooth brush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, and conditioner. Getting through all the required elements in four minutes. Four minutes, leaving lots of time to linger under that warm water fall from heaven I call a shower. However long the hot water lasts, that's the only constraint once I've completed my check list. First teeth, then shave, then lather rinse and repeat till the four minute mark. The rest of the hot water is for my soul as my sins go down the ever hungry drain toward purgatory.ReplyDelete
Oh, that's lovely! I, too, am a shower worshipper.Delete
There's no place like home. Home is where my older sister's boyfriend bangs her so hard against the wall of her room that my picture of the Queen rattles and goes all crooked on the wall so I have to straighten it up again. Home is where the dog doesn't have to eat my homework because we are not allowed to have a dog (my dad says that will just be one more damn thing to look after) and because I am a straight A student despite my twelve year old twin brothers sniffing glue out behind the shed and playing their crazy music so loud the people in the house across the street complain but I don't even yell at them for it because it almost drowns my sister and her boyfriend out. Except for the Queen looking down on me, her gaze growing more and more crooked by the minute. Where is my mother? Where is my father? Well, sometimes they are home, too. Then everything goes quiet. Except their fighting. At least their room is far enough from mine so when they make up while we are cleaning up all the empties from their binges, the Queen doesn't move. Did I say my older sister is two years older than me? She's sixteen and she's supposed to be babysitting us. Well, that's about it for me. There's no place like home.ReplyDelete