SpookyWriter
11-13-2006, 11:33 PM
I began today with coffee, several smokes and an idea for another short story. But first I must check my mail and read a few threads here before getting down to work. After an hour or so, I found the need for a cocktail to help me put this story into perspective. And so I had made my first cocktail and let the story run away in my head.
After a few more cocktails, another round of chat with people and a witty reply or two, I was ready to tell my tale. I began in earnest as the first couple of paragraphs flowed quite easily. Then I took a break for a late breakfast of pork, eggs and toast. Now it's time for a nap before finishing this story.
I have this so far:
---
The Nervous Tick
His eyes bulged, terrified, from the pressure I placed on his spine. He gulped, I know he did -- although I couldn't be sure -- and then took a deep breath as I squeezed tightly. A droplet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He twitched again. I felt him.
The pain was obvious, as it was with the swelling on my neck, but I paid no attention. Night after night I felt it leaving in vein and retreat to its hiding spot behind my neck where I was unable to reach. My tortured arm did not allow me to reach much further than my right cheek, so I was not aware of the small tear of flesh in my neck until one morning when I prepared to shave.
I noticed for the first time the pimple, so I had thought at the moment, on my neck. I became alarmed. What was the cause of this affliction? I had not eaten poorly or indulged in exotic foods or drink, so why had this small mound of flesh begun to protrude from my neck. I am sure it was my diet, yet I remained faithful to the fruit of drink and meats that I've become so fond of while on holiday at the institution.
The morning shadow crept upon my room again, as each day since my return from the hospital, but this day I discovered the faintest hint of another sharing my bed. I had not felt the suckling before or during my slumber. I had taken the drink, quite frequently, and so my sleep was not disturbed by the sounds of a house that had shared a hundred years of pestilence.
---
So how goes your writing day? I will finish this story today and shelve it for editing and later submittal.
Cheers,
Spooky
After a few more cocktails, another round of chat with people and a witty reply or two, I was ready to tell my tale. I began in earnest as the first couple of paragraphs flowed quite easily. Then I took a break for a late breakfast of pork, eggs and toast. Now it's time for a nap before finishing this story.
I have this so far:
---
The Nervous Tick
His eyes bulged, terrified, from the pressure I placed on his spine. He gulped, I know he did -- although I couldn't be sure -- and then took a deep breath as I squeezed tightly. A droplet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He twitched again. I felt him.
The pain was obvious, as it was with the swelling on my neck, but I paid no attention. Night after night I felt it leaving in vein and retreat to its hiding spot behind my neck where I was unable to reach. My tortured arm did not allow me to reach much further than my right cheek, so I was not aware of the small tear of flesh in my neck until one morning when I prepared to shave.
I noticed for the first time the pimple, so I had thought at the moment, on my neck. I became alarmed. What was the cause of this affliction? I had not eaten poorly or indulged in exotic foods or drink, so why had this small mound of flesh begun to protrude from my neck. I am sure it was my diet, yet I remained faithful to the fruit of drink and meats that I've become so fond of while on holiday at the institution.
The morning shadow crept upon my room again, as each day since my return from the hospital, but this day I discovered the faintest hint of another sharing my bed. I had not felt the suckling before or during my slumber. I had taken the drink, quite frequently, and so my sleep was not disturbed by the sounds of a house that had shared a hundred years of pestilence.
---
So how goes your writing day? I will finish this story today and shelve it for editing and later submittal.
Cheers,
Spooky