Friday, January 31, 2014

2 minutes. Go!

Hey, writer-type folks. Every Friday we do a fun free write. No reason. Just ending the week in style.

Basically, you can write whatever you want in the comments section. You have two minutes. Have fun. The more people who play, the more fun it is. Play as many times as you like (doesn't have to be today, even). So, tell a friend. If you have one. If not, tell your enemies. Then send 'em here to read your 'two' and encourage them to play. 


I wasn't ready for this. I didn't have time to flex my brain. It died like Houdini. A braggart's punch on an unprepared cerebellum. That's the way it is sometimes. Sometimes you keister the key and the restraints come off and you emerge from the cage to 'oooooh', 'ahhhhh'. Sometimes you get sucker punched and die in the middle of nowhere.


That's where my brain is. The middle of nowhere. It got lost during sleep...I lost my compass. I think I will have to go fishing. That's the only solution. That's not quite true. But it's a good solution, and I'll take it. 

14 comments:

  1. STOP IT!! Will you just stop it! Can't you see that your damned perfection is driving me away? Can't you see how much of a lie the 'nice guy' sham is? You're a fraud and don't know it. You're afraid of who you are. You want to believe the 'nice guy' shit. But I can't love a 'nice guy'. I know you better than you know yourself. You can fool others with that nice guy shit. Me - it just drives me away. If I can;'t make you see that I can only love a real guy, not a perfect one, then I have failed - we have failed. Shit I hate failing. And I don't want to die. Look in the god-damned mirror. Pleeeeeaase!!!!!

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    1. That was awesome! Thanks for playing, Yvonne.

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  2. He’s in the political outhouse now. My guess is, soon enough there’ll be a long line of his sycophants outside the plywood door, pounding to get in. The outhouse is a tiny cubicle where flies buzz in a dark circle around his head, an ersatz halo, a tarnished crown for the big man on the gubernatorial campus who showed both admirers and detractors a three-dimensional human bar graph of a meteoric rise and crashing fall.

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    1. Wow. I dig it. The momentum is undeniable. Well in, Sal.

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  3. The prison of her own creation is crumbling around her. In pieces, dribbling down the spider-webbed walls, dust clumping up in corners. Even the mice have dust in their whiskers; even the spiders sneeze. It is a prison of her own creation and it’s falling atop her, crushing her, panel by panel, drywall warped and peeling, mold growing in the carpet. The prison was a castle but even the best castles crumble with time, with disuse, with abuse, with the rivers running through them, with the sharp words rattling the parapets. Sound the alarms, to the guard towers, the prison is a heap of rubble and all she can do is sit among it and watch it bounce as more rains down.

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  4. "It's down at the wharf." Lauren was insistent. Her frown was adorable. "The thing in the water."
    "Then we'll go there." I wanted to see it, after all.
    "You'll see it."
    We were fast. Wharf rats ourselves, really. Running between the gullshit-stained pilings and docks, laughing in that serious way we always had. That was also kinda sad.
    Lauren needed this and I wanted her to. Show me, I mean.
    But we looked everywhere. All over. These were the years long after the winds blew garbage like dirty snow through the rusty alleyways and gantries. These were the quiet days following.
    But we never saw Lauren's creature. Sure didn't mean it never existed. Just never saw it is all.

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  5. Two atoms of hydrogen bond with one atom of oxygen. Together, their mass is too much to resist gravity. Falling. Clouds above, earth below.

    Splat!

    Soak into dirt. Absorbed by plant. Eaten by cow. Eaten by man.

    Two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen become not water, but part of man.

    Non-linear. Cyclical. Never ending.

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    1. Well put and something that never ceases to amaze me. Thanks my friend.

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  6. She stood there frozen with fear, eyes darting at those who stood around here oblivious to the danger they were all in. Her heart beat faster as she knew at any moment he would come through that door and it would all be over. In her mind she screamed, "Can't you feel it coming! You are all in danger! Get out of here!" but her voice remained silent as her breathing increased. Her hands started to shake as she finally couldnt' take it any more. She had to get out, she had to leave. without saying a word she bolted for the door of the bank and ran to her car. once she was in the safety of her car she started to calm down. "Damn it! why can't I get over this? Its supposed to get better." she said as tears streamed down her face as she struck the dash with her fists. Her husband reached over touching her trembling shoulder, "It's alright, you did better this time than before. You will get it." Gently he rubbed her back hoping to help calm her down. "Next time."

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    1. Man, this one hits close to home. Well played.

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  7. dust motes in sunlight
    float lazily around me
    while mocking my pain

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    1. Those damn dust motes ... my girls love em though. ;)

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