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 Now online (1)belb ...and 402 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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well, not really. This is something I wrote. Yet again, it is raw, no editing, one stream of writing. This may take a few posts to add. "Is it possible for one to have an orgasm and then write a work of fiction, be they male or female?" Asked Gabriel one cold morning. He was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Sunday paper. "No, of course not silly." Answered a woman's voice. "Orgasms leave one in a state of peril and ecstasy, only roller-coasters or arms of lovers are fit for post-orgasm activity. And by this I mean, yes. Write after an orgasm for then you are open to emotions uncluttered by horny thoughts. Which is to say, no. Horny thoughts are emotions, to be fruitful and multiply is life. Life and sense do not combine, nor your coffee and paper though they may seem fitting after a morning quickie which I know your life is accustomed to." The voice had come from an add for Turkey Breasts in the paper. From a woman digging her fist into a pile of Turkey Breasts that lay scattered upon a kitchen table, white tiled walls with matching oven/stove/microwave combination and wild turkey pictures hung in the background. The voice had not surprised young Gabriel, whom had communicated with the exact same add the day before. What surprised Gabriel was that he was able to communicate with the day old paper because today is Monday and Monday is purgatory for the human-soul. "Ah, so it is you, again." Said Gabriel. "Well then, I have a rather serious question. My dream last night was bizarre to say the least and I don't know it's value, if any." "Go on then." Said the woman. "I shall do my duty." So young Gabriel recounted every rememberable bit of his dream. "It began on the road. I was traveling to California in my 1990 Ford Tempo. The sun, wind, and country roads passed me by. Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado - these are some of the states I passed through. You might imagine the sights I saw along the way. |
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Much farm land stretched under the big sky and Rocky Mountains ice-capped. Well then. I popped a tire along the way, somewhere in Colorado, and I had to call my dad to help me change it. Bizarre because I had a spare, changing kit, and the skills to change. Regardless, my father traveled from Minnesota upon a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with a Hells Ang'els patch on the back of his leather jacket. He told me that I was a jack off for needing his help and then his buddy, Sonny Barger, founder of the Hells Ang'els, raced down the road and my dad said he was off to chase pussy. I changed the tire no problem and got back on the road. The west coast approached me quickly and I only made two stops. One in Arizona for a bag of chips. The other in Maine for gas. I remember thinking it odd that I was in Maine when I knew I was heading to California, but I didn't let this oddity phase me and before I knew it my car was flying down a curvy mountainous road in Northern California, overlooking the ocean. I was to visit my uncle Ken Chavez in his home along the coast, which I found easily. It was a large house. White-pillars and a grande marble door entry. Inside two wooden staircases winded upwards to a porch that overlooked the ocean. The floor was a midnight black stone and the walls painted sheer white. The stairs were also white and creaked when you walked on them. All the windows in the house were covered in green drapes. When I arrived the house was empty so I helped myself to a glass of lemonade and waited for Ken Chavez to arrive. Before Ken arrived, his wife Jerry Chavez came home from her teaching job at a local university. I sort of just knew she had a teaching job at a university, you understand. Anyways, a strangely attractive lady with a thick Brooklyn accent, we discussed stocks and Magic Cards on the porch. Long dark curls covered a pale face and her eternal brown eyes crept down my soul and urged me to confess all my plans for world-domination. |
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Although, I wisely held my tongue. It was strange. She wore a bra and panties and inched closer to me with every word I spoke, until she was right on top of me quite literally fucking my brains out. 'Yes. Force of Nature. A very good card. 8/8 trample I believe. The only draw back is the 4 green mana upkeep, but this can easily be afforded. Especially if your playing an Elf deck.' I said as she stripped away my yellow jump suite and mounted rock-hard penis with wet drooping pussy lips that showed her age more then she would like to admit. After the nasty business I noticed that Ken Chavez was sitting on a recliner nearby. I felt abashed by my actions with his wife, but he seemed to care little, lost in his gaze over the deep-blue ocean surrounded by endless sky. 'Beautiful day out, isn't it Chris? My nephew, my dearest.' He said in a dull, monotonic voice. 'Aye, it tis that sir.' Replied I, pretending to be an ancient soldier taking orders from his commander. With this he glanced at me with his large blue eyes and the wind brushed through his grey thin hair. Excitement leapt to his face and he smirked. 'Excellent,' He said. And then he questioned me, as if changing the subject, 'So Chris, how is your mother doing?' 'Good. She's enjoying her time in Wisconsin, although I do believe she wants to move back to Minneapolis sometime soon. The solitude is nice for her but she is a lady of the city. Born to blunder in smog with friends in literary circles, as you know, and your wife shall in time given the right application of thought.' 'Aye! How these calculations trouble my thoughts out here on the edge of America. One can only suffer isolation for so long, lad. My wife and I have been fortunate to find many wonderful people out here.' He said as if he was reading directions for baking a pizza. |
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"Very good friends," he muttered... "Yes lad, very good friends. I want to show you, I want to tell, ooh! If only I could. Well, Tonight will be a very special Night. You will see how special. Daddy is having friends over tonight. Friends, good friends." Continuing the monotonic voice, accenting Very, Tonight, Night, Could, and Friends just a slight bit more then the others. Jerry, Ken, and I shared a bottle of wine on the porch and then the friends began to arrive. Most of these people did not have faces, I mean, I did not recognize anybody. I just felt the presence of people. Do you understand?" "Yes," replied the lady in the add, "keep going." "Okay. Well, the beautiful day turned into a rather foul and stormy night and everyone was gathered out on the porch, waiting for something. Ken stood at the front of the porch, wearing a bathrobe, and stretched his arms wide out. His head raised up towards the sky and he screamed as loud as his dull voice would allow. Wind and lightning raced through the night sky. It was cold and the hour was right, it seemed, for grave mischief. Suddenly, a flash of light left Ken's out stretched arms and wrapped around the shore of the ocean. Loud clashes of thunder and people screaming ripped through my ears and I remember feeling DEATHLY afraid. Then I knew what was happening; My Uncle Ken Chavez had gotten involved with the Devil out here in California. It was a conclusion that came to me instantly once I heard a loud deep voice, muttering a mixture of incoherent vowels and consonants, and noticed the people around me bow their heads and chant the words 'Lucifer... Lucifer... Lucifer...' ect, you get the picture. Typical Satanists, but it was horribly frightening. Then my Uncle picked me out of the crowed and said, 'Gabriel! You have been chosen to join the movement of Dark.' He said this as if it would be some great honor. |
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A compelling urge gripped my soul at once and pushed my mouth and vocal chords tightly until a gasped, 'Yes,' arrived and floated to the ears of Ken. He smiled and said, 'I knew you would join! And with you, all the others will join too. You know what others I speak of, I know you do.' But I did not know what others he spoke of, only that I was afraid that I just fucked up my life. Then I said, 'I mean, no. I do not want to join this Dark movement.' Hideous laughter arose from all around me and I bolted for the door. The night was bucked into rage and wind howled off the ocean, covering everything in a salty mist. I jumped in my car and drove away as quickly as possible. Hauling down a California road surrounded by forest I noticed bright lights in front of me. The lights covered the entire road and I was forced to pull over to let it by. I thought it was a semi driving on the wrong side of the road, but the lights kept coming. More and more and more and more of them popped over a small rise in the road, piercing the darkness like daggers cutting through my jugular. Then I noticed the horror: Troves of people running down the highway holding flashlights and many of them driving in cars. Their faces contorted in horror and their eyes glazed over, like zombies walking towards a victim. But they all passed me. Then a loud chant began, 'Chavez...Chavez....Chavez...Chavez..." I began to cruise along the side of the road. With my head out the window I yelled, 'Stay the Fuck away from Chavez's place! Stay the Fuck away from Chavez's place and they looked at me with bewilderment and hate. This was when I noticed all these faces were young, my age type faces. I thought I even recognized a few of them, passerby's from college and night clubs. Buzzing fools that steered me away from the college scene and made me desire isolation. Trading these annoyances for my own thoughts. 'No you Fucking Fools! Stay away from Chavez's, stay the FUCK AWAY FROM CHAVEZ'S!!!' |
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The beasts were angered by this last comment and turned towards my car. I gunned her and smashed into a few bodies, but there were too many of them. They crowded the Tempo with smothering hands and bodies as they smashed my windows and clawed their way inside. This is when I woke up. I wasn't in a panic. I remember thinking, 'Yea, that seemed like a typical dream to me.' So, what do you think?" There was a bit of a pause and then the lady in the add asked, "What was that part about isolation?" "Oh, that I was seeking Isolation and stuff?" "Yes. That's it. Isolation." The End. |
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okay, so I don't know why the fuck I changed Gabriel's name to Chris mid-way through the story and then back again. That is my name, and I was thinking of myself as I wrote it. But please don't let this get in the way of reading. horrible mistake on my part. |
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well, i have no idea what just happened. kudos. the dialogue is great and magic cards !! even better. maybe make it a bit post modern? |
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My eyes are too weary from the days events. I started to but they are sleepy. This will be my final post before bed....... but dont worry... i still love you! |
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hahahahahahahahaha! |
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i really enjoyed the one about the 13 year old boy who lives on his own and partied all the timeand the bum that buys him booze, that you wrote about a month or 2 ago... it was good stuff! |
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did you read this one girl? |
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i'm going to tomorrow... i added it to favorites... i tried reading it but i'm falling asleep, it's 2:25a.m. right now. i will read it and tell you what i think tomorrow, g'night! |
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this really needs a bump read or not who cares? right? wrong. |
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interesting.. i like(d) but, i may need to re-read it for it to make any sense.. i like the idea of a talking advert and such.. even thought it is sort of bewildering to me at first read... |
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