Huh

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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The Urbane Spaceman
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Huh

Post by The Urbane Spaceman » Tue Jan 08, 2019 7:52 pm

Off-Work Fiction Attempt One

It’s been awhile now. An occupation invaded my head, and the Muse was locked in some sort of bird cage.
Or so I’d thought.

I’ve come to find out two things about them Muses:
1. They will not be kept in cages, for they are ethereal and of their own reasoning. They appear to have purposes, whatever those may be. Kind of like porpoises.
2. The other thing is that they will not kept out of your own cage.

Here is a sacramental offering to one of those Muses that once chose to haunt me: dark liquids to be sipped, savored, chugged in honor of our mighty Lord Bacchus. I will never claim to have any talent for this thing. Simply an undeniable thirst for it, a bone-deep need.

Pssst, hey, wanna go for a ride?
Perhaps a Drink? I think that you might join me. Bacchus help you if you decide to.

First rusty attempt (8 months ago)

It was a dark and stormy night.

A shot rang out.

The maid quickly dropped a dish in the kitchen onto the sultry floor of the kitchen. She thought back to a week previously. There had been sex between her and the man. Hot, steamy sex. The nasty kind. She had a clue. She looked surprised and worried and angrily at the food on the floor.

Then Bang! Bang again! Two bangs.

Out in the big foyer, the man stood by the marble staircase. He looked down at the smoking holes in his tuxedo.

He said, “Why?!!” He looked down at the smoke there. He thought about what he done. He asked how this could happen.

He dropped his non-smoking pistol.

He looked at his hand, as it fell clatteringly.
The pistol, not the hand.

He questioned how this happened out loud again as he dyingly gasped his dying gasp.

He sadly perished. He was sad. But dead. Dead sadly.

Then the wife went into the kitchen.

Bang! Bang! There was long a pause.

Then a final BANG!

The End.


Yeah, pretty much fuck that there attempt.


Attempt Two (6 months ago)

You

You Can

Not Return Home

Things looks different form another angle. That bottle you have in your hand looks different on the shelf than it does in your hand, or with its open neck in your mouth. It looks much different when full than it does emptied. You see; one is a promise, and the other is a memory, a debt. Promises are debts to be refilled.

It’s a good idea turn back now and then to look at the land behind when you are walking through a strange forest.
Everything looks different in hindsight, and that is useful if you attempt to go back. Take a mental snapshot. It can help you.

Yet, you can never return home.

You can never truly return to anywhere. You can only move forward. Time changes things, and what does not adapt will die. If you decide to return, very little will be the same. You have changed, and that is what matters most.
If you recognize this, then you understand something very important, which is this:
You will continue. Anything less is to accept death. Fuck death.

No.
Time for another Drink.

…………….
*ahem*

Blecch



Third Attempt (4 months ago)

The moon peeked through tall, glistening windows and shadows of raindrops slid down across floor tiles in its blue light.

A dark figure stood by the stairs leading up, and his face glowed with red light. He dropped the cigarette onto the tiles and smeared it into a memory. He exhaled with a whisper, saying, “Damn.”


Rrrrrgh. No.


*Chug*



Seventh attempt (Tonight)


(For myself: digging in here… Write without editing along the way. Get your shit out fresh. Re-writes are for grammar and punctuation, but not to repaint or reword. Let it climb out of the cage. Be quiet as it stretches and arches its back. Tell a story with enough description for the reader to paint in the details, then get the hell out of the way of your own way and let it go. Only after it finds its place can you polish it: hone.)


*chug*


Time (Ch.1) by Urp

It wasn’t supposed to turn out the way that it did.
But nothing really does, does it?

++++++++++++++++++++++

I tip well, but I don’t drink from the well.
I enjoy the ride.
There is a general destination, and it isn’t sought.
It’s savored.
You’ll find it when its sparks way off in the distance.
But only if you can keep your eyes open.
I staggered away from the bar stool and stood straight to get the blood clots moving.
Someone behind me said, “Behind you.”
I turned around to a passing scent of perfume.
A ghost?
I rubbed my eyes with my smoky hand and that didn’t help.
Always use the other hand.
She was gone, or had she existed at all?
I looked across at Hurst and wrote my signature in the air. He looked back at me form the folks telling him their life stories and he winked.
I sipped my bourbon empty just as Hurst set down my receipt.
He said, “Don’t look, but someone bought your tab just now.”
He set down a fresh old-fashioned glass with one rock in it.
He nodded at the shelves behind him.
“Top shelf for the road?”
I raised my eyebrows.
He said, “It ain’t form me.”
Oh.

Huh.




I think this is good enough fortonight.

Kinda feels like home now.

---urp out.

*Urrrrrp*

.

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oettinger
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Re: Huh

Post by oettinger » Sat Jan 12, 2019 2:00 pm

Too drunk, didn`t read. But will tomorrow, promised
I do not remember posting that ^^^
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mistah willies
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Re: Huh

Post by mistah willies » Mon Jan 14, 2019 9:20 pm

oettinger wrote:
Sat Jan 12, 2019 2:00 pm
Too drunk, didn`t read. But will tomorrow, promised
Me too: TD:DR

Anyhoo, thought he was dead already. What in thee hell is up with this self-aggrandizing promoting of bad writing? Let it bleed out, dude. Don't quit your day job, Urp or whatever your name is

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The Urbane Spaceman
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Re: Huh

Post by The Urbane Spaceman » Mon Jan 14, 2019 9:35 pm

mistah willies wrote:
Mon Jan 14, 2019 9:20 pm
oettinger wrote:
Sat Jan 12, 2019 2:00 pm
Too drunk, didn`t read. But will tomorrow, promised
Me too: TD:DR

Anyhoo, thought he was dead already. What in thee hell is up with this self-aggrandizing promoting of bad writing? Let it bleed out, dude. Don't quit your day job, Urp or whatever your name is
Bass tards. The lot of yens.

There is a key involved. I am the Gardiner. The Diner of Gard.

I'll show you. I'll leave you hanging from a bridge.
Just you wait, Mistah Iggins.

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oettinger
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Re: Huh

Post by oettinger » Fri Jan 18, 2019 11:46 am

Never happens in real life
I do not remember posting that ^^^
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Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Post by Badfellow » Tue Jan 22, 2019 9:01 am

There is a significant difference between starting your story with:

"It was a dark and stormy night."

and

"It was a Dark n' Stormy night."
ພາສາລາວNONE GENUINE WITHOUT MY SIGNATUREພາສາລາວ

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