Written in under ten minutes as an exercise is flash fiction and free writing.
Jake, once told by a bully that he was too little to play basketball, even though he was actually tall for his age, decided one day to see what it would be like if he did in fact play basketball, for he had never tried because of his insecurity. His mother warned him that the sport could be dangerous, not to mention tiresome, time consuming, and would only result in being in better shape and, maybe, more confidence. Nevertheless, Jake tried out for the team, succeeded in being the first freshman to get on it in nearly six years, and played his first game in early February.
As luck would have it, the very same bully had chosen to play on the opposing team, even though he was no better equipped to be a sportsman, being a little overweight and with bad depth perception (he later needed eye surgery because his glasses, which he refused to wear, did not fix the problem).
The stadium was packed, as was the custom for all early season games, and the excitement was at a fever pitch. Jake was handed the ball and he raced with it down the court, dodging teammates and opponents alike. As he stopped at an appropriate distance, he looked around himself briefly, noticing the once proud bully wheezing heavily and sweating profusely. Jake jumped, threw the ball, and it sunk with a definitive "swish" sound, proving to everyone that not only was he capable of playing basketball, but that he was destined to become the greatest player the school had ever seen.
The bully, who Jake had once remarked would make a very interesting male stripper to a very interesting female crowd, by a strange twist of fate, dropped out of the sport soon after the first game and pursued a life of erotic dancing.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Untitled: Part 10 [EDITED]
Ralph put his hand on the doorknob and Leon fired. The bullet ricocheted off the metal door and Ralph immediately backed off, flattening himself against the adjoining wall, just out of Leon's sight.
"I hoped I was ahead of you," Ralph said.
"Just barely," Leon replied, keeping his gun ready and attention at full. "You make one move toward the door and I won't miss."
"I believe you," Ralph replied. "I'll have to turn around."
"There's no way out," Leon countered. "You give up now and come easily and I'll make sure you get some sort of amnesty."
"That's very reassuring."
"It's the most you're gonna get."
Silence.
Leon, sweating, shifted his position, attempting to get a better view on the situation. He heard no noise from below him, no sign of Ralph staying put or attempting an escape.
"What's going on down there?" Leon asked.
"Oh...just mulling it over," Ralph replied after a moment. Quietly, Leon pushed the vent open with the front of his gun. "Don't forget how easily your friend fell."
"Or how quickly he got back up," Leon said.
Ralph laughed slightly and seemed to relax. "You don't even know what you're doing here, do you?"
"Of course I do."
"Then explain to me why you have no idea what I'm doing here."
"I know enough about you to not be tricked again."
"Then I have nothing more to say." Leon craned his neck into a new position, searching for any visual. After another second he heard a door open and shut. Without thinking, he kicked the panel open and fell to the ground. He groaned in pain as he landed, but still managed to do a quick 360 of the room. It was empty.
He ran for the inside door which Ralph had presumably left through. Not expecting any resistance, he was unprepared for it to be locked. After several attempts, he concluded Ralph had damaged the mechanism and that he'd have to take the vent back out. Walking to the outside door to lock it, he wished for some way to contact Milo to tell him what happened. Not knowing any way to do that, he resigned himself to finish his task by contacting the mainland.
With the last door to the outside locked, he jumped back into the vent and continued in what he hoped was the right direction.
"I hoped I was ahead of you," Ralph said.
"Just barely," Leon replied, keeping his gun ready and attention at full. "You make one move toward the door and I won't miss."
"I believe you," Ralph replied. "I'll have to turn around."
"There's no way out," Leon countered. "You give up now and come easily and I'll make sure you get some sort of amnesty."
"That's very reassuring."
"It's the most you're gonna get."
Silence.
Leon, sweating, shifted his position, attempting to get a better view on the situation. He heard no noise from below him, no sign of Ralph staying put or attempting an escape.
"What's going on down there?" Leon asked.
"Oh...just mulling it over," Ralph replied after a moment. Quietly, Leon pushed the vent open with the front of his gun. "Don't forget how easily your friend fell."
"Or how quickly he got back up," Leon said.
Ralph laughed slightly and seemed to relax. "You don't even know what you're doing here, do you?"
"Of course I do."
"Then explain to me why you have no idea what I'm doing here."
"I know enough about you to not be tricked again."
"Then I have nothing more to say." Leon craned his neck into a new position, searching for any visual. After another second he heard a door open and shut. Without thinking, he kicked the panel open and fell to the ground. He groaned in pain as he landed, but still managed to do a quick 360 of the room. It was empty.
He ran for the inside door which Ralph had presumably left through. Not expecting any resistance, he was unprepared for it to be locked. After several attempts, he concluded Ralph had damaged the mechanism and that he'd have to take the vent back out. Walking to the outside door to lock it, he wished for some way to contact Milo to tell him what happened. Not knowing any way to do that, he resigned himself to finish his task by contacting the mainland.
With the last door to the outside locked, he jumped back into the vent and continued in what he hoped was the right direction.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Recent Activity
Time was, I could sit down at a computer and the ideas would just flow through my hands, into the keyboard, and before I knew it, I would have a story. It wouldn't always be well written, but the ideas would be there and it would be finished.
Can't seem to do that these days. My serial story on this site is lagging, apologies. Plus I'm losing inspiration for the play I'm co-writing. My script idea I came up with several months ago is stale.
But I have generated more ideas, as is want to happen. It's a film noir screenplay. It opens with a man driving down a lonely road, being followed, with a dying girl in his backseat. He's the narrator. It flashbacks to how he met the girl and what lead them to the present situation (details still unknown).
I think I started writing something else, as well. Ideas keep coming and going. But lately I work too much to properly write.
This isn't really a good post, but it's related to what this blog is about.
Can't seem to do that these days. My serial story on this site is lagging, apologies. Plus I'm losing inspiration for the play I'm co-writing. My script idea I came up with several months ago is stale.
But I have generated more ideas, as is want to happen. It's a film noir screenplay. It opens with a man driving down a lonely road, being followed, with a dying girl in his backseat. He's the narrator. It flashbacks to how he met the girl and what lead them to the present situation (details still unknown).
I think I started writing something else, as well. Ideas keep coming and going. But lately I work too much to properly write.
This isn't really a good post, but it's related to what this blog is about.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Untitled: Part 9
The thirty seconds went quickly. Leon and Milo parted ways, shaking hands. "It's not your fault, you know," Milo said. "It was bound to happen."
"I know," Leon replied.
Milo undid the latch for the ceiling compartments. A light ladder unfolded. They exchanged glances. "You were always prepared," Leon said.
"As I said. It was bound to happen. We had to be ready."
Leon nodded and started up the ladder. After him, Milo pushed the ladder back up, sealing the compartment. After a second's delay the lighting system flickered on. It was a soft white light illuminating the shiny clean silver metal duct. A constant, weak wind blew past. Leon wasted no time. Moving as silently and deftly as he could, he shimmied down the corridor.
At a fork he turned left and went another hundred feet. He passed a vent in the side and peered into the room. It was empty. He spotted the door to the outside at the wall. With quick movements, he knocked open the panel beneath him and fell to the ground below. Reaching the door, he entered the same twelve-digit code, which was followed by a suction sound. Letting out a breath, he moved to the door to the room and locked it from the inside. Then he jumped to the duct and pulled himself up, shutting the panel after him. The whole process took under two minutes.
With six doors yet to secure, and the security system to reset if Milo did not reach it first, Leon continued without hesitation. He found the next two doors with ease and had no trouble. At the third door he bruised his leg while attempting to get back in the air duct. He misjudged his grip and fell onto his knee. Repressing the desire to scream in pain, he breathed several deep breaths, squeezed the surrounding area, and stood up the moment he felt comfortable. He paced the room a couple times, then attempted the jump again with success. Still wincing, he continued on his path.
The fourth and fifth lockdowns went smoothly, though he moved more slowly and felt pain with every step. Once back in the air duct, he moved as fast as he could to the next door, which was nearby. He turned a corner, then another, and spotted the next panel. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he reached it.
Without warning, the lights in the compartment went out. Leon held the latch to the panel, and his breath, afraid to let either go. Through the corresponding vent, Leon could see the room below bathed in blue light. A figure moved through it to the outside door. It was Ralph.
Keeping one hand on the latch, and slowly letting out a restrained breath, Leon reached for his gun.
"I know," Leon replied.
Milo undid the latch for the ceiling compartments. A light ladder unfolded. They exchanged glances. "You were always prepared," Leon said.
"As I said. It was bound to happen. We had to be ready."
Leon nodded and started up the ladder. After him, Milo pushed the ladder back up, sealing the compartment. After a second's delay the lighting system flickered on. It was a soft white light illuminating the shiny clean silver metal duct. A constant, weak wind blew past. Leon wasted no time. Moving as silently and deftly as he could, he shimmied down the corridor.
At a fork he turned left and went another hundred feet. He passed a vent in the side and peered into the room. It was empty. He spotted the door to the outside at the wall. With quick movements, he knocked open the panel beneath him and fell to the ground below. Reaching the door, he entered the same twelve-digit code, which was followed by a suction sound. Letting out a breath, he moved to the door to the room and locked it from the inside. Then he jumped to the duct and pulled himself up, shutting the panel after him. The whole process took under two minutes.
With six doors yet to secure, and the security system to reset if Milo did not reach it first, Leon continued without hesitation. He found the next two doors with ease and had no trouble. At the third door he bruised his leg while attempting to get back in the air duct. He misjudged his grip and fell onto his knee. Repressing the desire to scream in pain, he breathed several deep breaths, squeezed the surrounding area, and stood up the moment he felt comfortable. He paced the room a couple times, then attempted the jump again with success. Still wincing, he continued on his path.
The fourth and fifth lockdowns went smoothly, though he moved more slowly and felt pain with every step. Once back in the air duct, he moved as fast as he could to the next door, which was nearby. He turned a corner, then another, and spotted the next panel. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he reached it.
Without warning, the lights in the compartment went out. Leon held the latch to the panel, and his breath, afraid to let either go. Through the corresponding vent, Leon could see the room below bathed in blue light. A figure moved through it to the outside door. It was Ralph.
Keeping one hand on the latch, and slowly letting out a restrained breath, Leon reached for his gun.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Dharma
Written in February of 2006. I was falling asleep on a futon when the poem suddenly came to me. It was sparked by recent related talks in philosophy class. Original titles: 2:11 a.m. and In the Throes of Morning Passion (the latter one I don't like at all anymore).
So many ideas that
just come rushing and
in restraining them I
wrestle with the only true loves;
that is, to read, write and weep
for all the things I've lost in
this world, knowing all the things
I will gain.
So many ideas that
just come rushing and
in restraining them I
wrestle with the only true loves;
that is, to read, write and weep
for all the things I've lost in
this world, knowing all the things
I will gain.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Untitled: Part 8 - [EDITS]
At first leaning on Leon's shoulder, Milo regained composure by the time they reached the automatic cafeteria door. "We've gotta find James," Milo said.
"Who's he?" asked Leon.
"The only other trained official here."
The two walked into the hallway lit in the same blue glow. Milo rushed to the nearby door to the courtyard. At the keypad he entered a dozen numbers, resulting in an air locking sound. "At least one door's secure," he said, turning back to Leon, who stood a few feet from him, the first aid kit in one hand and the gun in the other.
"There's no way we can lock all the doors to the outside," Leon protested, following Milo who gave no moment to rest. Milo walked quickly, wincing as his left arm attempted to sway in the usual motion. "And that guy's still inside."
They reached Milo's room and both entered. Milo shut the door behind them and secured the padlock. He ignored Leon's protests. "How well do you know the layout of the building?"
"Very," Leon replied. "Every man has to know his way around without a map."
"Good," Milo said as he shuffled through drawers of a filing cabinet. As a reflex, he used his left arm, stopping each time as the pain came back. Finally finding what he was searching for, Milo turned back. With one motion he wiped his desk clear, knocking various items and documents to the floor, and laid out detailed floor plans. He looked at Leon's face which was studying the schematics. "Your knowledge will help, but the path you have to take, they did not teach you."
Leon looked up at Milo. "These seem to follow the floor plans, but they're different."
"They're air ducts, created for two purposes: to promote ventilation and provide an easy-access security route. It was designed to lead to every major room and exit and include its own lighting system. You've got thirty seconds to memorize it."
"Who's he?" asked Leon.
"The only other trained official here."
The two walked into the hallway lit in the same blue glow. Milo rushed to the nearby door to the courtyard. At the keypad he entered a dozen numbers, resulting in an air locking sound. "At least one door's secure," he said, turning back to Leon, who stood a few feet from him, the first aid kit in one hand and the gun in the other.
"There's no way we can lock all the doors to the outside," Leon protested, following Milo who gave no moment to rest. Milo walked quickly, wincing as his left arm attempted to sway in the usual motion. "And that guy's still inside."
They reached Milo's room and both entered. Milo shut the door behind them and secured the padlock. He ignored Leon's protests. "How well do you know the layout of the building?"
"Very," Leon replied. "Every man has to know his way around without a map."
"Good," Milo said as he shuffled through drawers of a filing cabinet. As a reflex, he used his left arm, stopping each time as the pain came back. Finally finding what he was searching for, Milo turned back. With one motion he wiped his desk clear, knocking various items and documents to the floor, and laid out detailed floor plans. He looked at Leon's face which was studying the schematics. "Your knowledge will help, but the path you have to take, they did not teach you."
Leon looked up at Milo. "These seem to follow the floor plans, but they're different."
"They're air ducts, created for two purposes: to promote ventilation and provide an easy-access security route. It was designed to lead to every major room and exit and include its own lighting system. You've got thirty seconds to memorize it."
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Untitled: Part 7 [EDITS]
Leon shuffled with Ralph to bring Milo to the cafeteria, the door to the courtyard automatically swinging shut after their entrance. Normally it would be short walk, but with the added weight and squeaky shoes it seemed like miles.
The cafeteria door slid open as they approached it and staggered in. Milo breathed in labored breaths as they set him on a table. Soft music still played and Leon spotted his magazine, as if nothing outside the room had happened. All three left a trail of water beneath them, already accumulating into puddles.
Ralph was quick to act and said little. After ensuring that Milo was secure, he ran to the kitchen area in search of first aid. He returned with a kit and handed it to Leon. "Take it," he commanded. "I've gotta turn the fence back on before they attempt a rescue."
Ralph immediately departed, leaving a stunned and medically untrained Leon to figure out the rest. Leon first washed his hands and face of the excess mud, then tended to the few cuts and bruises Milo had. The bulk of the injury, Leon noticed, would be internal.
Milo's eyes, shut, quivered slightly, then slowly opened. He coughed and strained to get up but could not. "I think your left arm's broken," Leon said, helping his partner sit up. "And there could be more."
Milo groaned. "What happened?"
"Ralph startled the creature and I was able to shoot it.
Milo rubbed his head at an obviously swollen part. "Who's Ralph?"
"Ralph Thistle," Leon replied. "I don't know exactly what he does but he was the one who was taken earlier."
Milo spit up some blood into the now muddy mess next to the table. He breathed a long breath, contemplating. "There's no one b y that name at this facility."
Leon blinked twice, sat down and then stood back up. "What the hell do you mean? How can you be sure?"
"Because I evaluate everyone who works here and that man does not."
On the last word the lights shut off and for a brief moment the two were awash in darkness. Seconds later an emergency blue lighting system turned on, illuminating the room bu keeping dark shadows.
Leon spun to the entrance, gun raised, expecting Ralph to burst in at any moment. Milo pushed himself off the table and landed shakily onto his feet, steadying himself with his good hand. "Now we radio home and tell them we have ea problem...if the lines haven't already been cut."
The cafeteria door slid open as they approached it and staggered in. Milo breathed in labored breaths as they set him on a table. Soft music still played and Leon spotted his magazine, as if nothing outside the room had happened. All three left a trail of water beneath them, already accumulating into puddles.
Ralph was quick to act and said little. After ensuring that Milo was secure, he ran to the kitchen area in search of first aid. He returned with a kit and handed it to Leon. "Take it," he commanded. "I've gotta turn the fence back on before they attempt a rescue."
Ralph immediately departed, leaving a stunned and medically untrained Leon to figure out the rest. Leon first washed his hands and face of the excess mud, then tended to the few cuts and bruises Milo had. The bulk of the injury, Leon noticed, would be internal.
Milo's eyes, shut, quivered slightly, then slowly opened. He coughed and strained to get up but could not. "I think your left arm's broken," Leon said, helping his partner sit up. "And there could be more."
Milo groaned. "What happened?"
"Ralph startled the creature and I was able to shoot it.
Milo rubbed his head at an obviously swollen part. "Who's Ralph?"
"Ralph Thistle," Leon replied. "I don't know exactly what he does but he was the one who was taken earlier."
Milo spit up some blood into the now muddy mess next to the table. He breathed a long breath, contemplating. "There's no one b y that name at this facility."
Leon blinked twice, sat down and then stood back up. "What the hell do you mean? How can you be sure?"
"Because I evaluate everyone who works here and that man does not."
On the last word the lights shut off and for a brief moment the two were awash in darkness. Seconds later an emergency blue lighting system turned on, illuminating the room bu keeping dark shadows.
Leon spun to the entrance, gun raised, expecting Ralph to burst in at any moment. Milo pushed himself off the table and landed shakily onto his feet, steadying himself with his good hand. "Now we radio home and tell them we have ea problem...if the lines haven't already been cut."
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Scenario Study
Sun sets over Los Angeles.
I've heard people talk of the great wide open before, but to see it for myself was something I never imagined possible.
Lights flicker in between silhouetted palm trees in a darkening blue sky. A sliver of a moon hangs low, still on its way up for its nightcap.
Workmen come home and lock their cars, lock their fences, lock their doors. The air hangs loosely, parting for anyone wanting its aromatic stillness. The last of the joggers makes her way back to the house to shower, snuggle with her family and watch their favorite program. In the East there would be hot chocolate. Here there's a banana strawberry smoothie.
I open the windows to let some of that cool air in, a sharp contrast to the hot dryness of the day. The breeze flows in, rustling the leaves of a fake house plant in the corner of the study. With it comes the soft sounds of dogs barking, cars moving, neighborly chatter, pool motors, and music.
I lean back in the chair to the full relaxed position and look out the window. I take one final, long, tasteful, soulful drag of my cigarette and crush the butt in the ashtray. I exhale.
I've discovered America.
I've heard people talk of the great wide open before, but to see it for myself was something I never imagined possible.
Lights flicker in between silhouetted palm trees in a darkening blue sky. A sliver of a moon hangs low, still on its way up for its nightcap.
Workmen come home and lock their cars, lock their fences, lock their doors. The air hangs loosely, parting for anyone wanting its aromatic stillness. The last of the joggers makes her way back to the house to shower, snuggle with her family and watch their favorite program. In the East there would be hot chocolate. Here there's a banana strawberry smoothie.
I open the windows to let some of that cool air in, a sharp contrast to the hot dryness of the day. The breeze flows in, rustling the leaves of a fake house plant in the corner of the study. With it comes the soft sounds of dogs barking, cars moving, neighborly chatter, pool motors, and music.
I lean back in the chair to the full relaxed position and look out the window. I take one final, long, tasteful, soulful drag of my cigarette and crush the butt in the ashtray. I exhale.
I've discovered America.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Untitled: Part 6 [EDITS]
Leon turned around back to the compound. In the fence entranceway lay a shadowed creature, its fur drenched. There was extremely shallow breathing, nothing near enough to sustain life. Leon walked up to it and stared.
Through light dancing off the raindrops, he could see clearly human features that were dwarfed by animalistic tendencies. The teeth and jaw were sharper, made to rip through meat without the need of utensils. The nose was dog-like. Its eyes were shut but still held a look of attack. The whole face was covered in a light fuzz, with the rest of the creature completely covered in fur.
Leon looked up and saw the other man standing over Milo. He walked towards them.
"What the hell is that thing?" Leon asked of the other conscious person. "And who're you?"
The other man quickly got to his feet and walked to the fence. Leon trailed him. "My name's Ralph Thistle. Help me." Ralph grabbed the creature's arms and started pulling it into the perimeter. Leon grabbed its legs.
"I guess you're the guy I saw get taken earlier." There was no response except for a few faint grunts. Frustrated, Leon pressed on. "Could you do some explaining of this?" Leon said as he dropped the body near the fountain. He followed Ralph back to the fence.
"I don't think I can," Ralph said, locking the fence. He checked it several times. "We'll need something stronger."
"It's supposed to be electrified."
"And we both know that's not the case." Ralph paused and looked into the forest. There was nothing to see. Leon wiped some mud from his face and shivered. He had hoped the rain would wash off the mud but he still felt the slimy stuff all over him. Ralph turned to the compound and the injured Milo. "Now come on. We've got to get somewhere safe."
Leon followed Ralph to help pick up Milo's limp body. "What do we do with that thing?" Leon motioned behind him with his head.
"We'll bring it in next," Ralph responded.
Through light dancing off the raindrops, he could see clearly human features that were dwarfed by animalistic tendencies. The teeth and jaw were sharper, made to rip through meat without the need of utensils. The nose was dog-like. Its eyes were shut but still held a look of attack. The whole face was covered in a light fuzz, with the rest of the creature completely covered in fur.
Leon looked up and saw the other man standing over Milo. He walked towards them.
"What the hell is that thing?" Leon asked of the other conscious person. "And who're you?"
The other man quickly got to his feet and walked to the fence. Leon trailed him. "My name's Ralph Thistle. Help me." Ralph grabbed the creature's arms and started pulling it into the perimeter. Leon grabbed its legs.
"I guess you're the guy I saw get taken earlier." There was no response except for a few faint grunts. Frustrated, Leon pressed on. "Could you do some explaining of this?" Leon said as he dropped the body near the fountain. He followed Ralph back to the fence.
"I don't think I can," Ralph said, locking the fence. He checked it several times. "We'll need something stronger."
"It's supposed to be electrified."
"And we both know that's not the case." Ralph paused and looked into the forest. There was nothing to see. Leon wiped some mud from his face and shivered. He had hoped the rain would wash off the mud but he still felt the slimy stuff all over him. Ralph turned to the compound and the injured Milo. "Now come on. We've got to get somewhere safe."
Leon followed Ralph to help pick up Milo's limp body. "What do we do with that thing?" Leon motioned behind him with his head.
"We'll bring it in next," Ralph responded.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Developments in New Avenues
After many years of thinking it, it has finally come to fruition. I am co-writing a play!
I've wanted to write a play for a while now, but I have no training and no eye to write one. However, I've tried to get various people involved in playwriting over the years. Each attempt has failed, and I'm to blame as much as the other people.
But a friend and I recently discussed writing together, and today we met and talked for 3 hours. The first hour was just an idea frenzy, talking just to get a feel for how we each think and what we like. Then the play started forming around us. It was amazing how quickly it came about, and how many ideas we tossed off each other. One idea led to another, and since it was just a brainstorming session, we wrote everything down for future use.
It's an absurdist play. I have no experience with them, but my partner does. It's one act, separated into several stages. The basic plot is this: the main character, currently named John, meets a girl, currently named Rebecca, at a birthday party in NYC. After some usual chit chat, Rebecca chokes and dies. But John was not expecting it to happen. The actress herself does not die, but her character does. And it is at this point that we realize that John knows he's in a play. So he starts to frantically worry about the play, the audience, what should he do, he takes out his script to study it. Rebecca was not supposed to die in the original script, so he's confused and has a bit of an existential breakdown. They call the police to report the death, and then line up people at the party to get a new Rebecca to finish the play. We find out that John really wants to finish the play because there's a kiss at the end, and he is lonely and is desperate for a kiss. As they search for a new Rebecca, the characters and setting change until the end result is different from the beginning. There'll be an "intermission" when critics come on stage to critique it.
There's more to it, but that's the gist. I like it because it pushes the boundaries a bit about what can happen in a play, I think. We'll try to get the audience involved. It's not just a play you watch passively with a cohesive story, it's more. It won't be the typical theater. I think there's great potential and I'm very excited to work it through.
I've wanted to write a play for a while now, but I have no training and no eye to write one. However, I've tried to get various people involved in playwriting over the years. Each attempt has failed, and I'm to blame as much as the other people.
But a friend and I recently discussed writing together, and today we met and talked for 3 hours. The first hour was just an idea frenzy, talking just to get a feel for how we each think and what we like. Then the play started forming around us. It was amazing how quickly it came about, and how many ideas we tossed off each other. One idea led to another, and since it was just a brainstorming session, we wrote everything down for future use.
It's an absurdist play. I have no experience with them, but my partner does. It's one act, separated into several stages. The basic plot is this: the main character, currently named John, meets a girl, currently named Rebecca, at a birthday party in NYC. After some usual chit chat, Rebecca chokes and dies. But John was not expecting it to happen. The actress herself does not die, but her character does. And it is at this point that we realize that John knows he's in a play. So he starts to frantically worry about the play, the audience, what should he do, he takes out his script to study it. Rebecca was not supposed to die in the original script, so he's confused and has a bit of an existential breakdown. They call the police to report the death, and then line up people at the party to get a new Rebecca to finish the play. We find out that John really wants to finish the play because there's a kiss at the end, and he is lonely and is desperate for a kiss. As they search for a new Rebecca, the characters and setting change until the end result is different from the beginning. There'll be an "intermission" when critics come on stage to critique it.
There's more to it, but that's the gist. I like it because it pushes the boundaries a bit about what can happen in a play, I think. We'll try to get the audience involved. It's not just a play you watch passively with a cohesive story, it's more. It won't be the typical theater. I think there's great potential and I'm very excited to work it through.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Untitled: Part 5 [EDITS]
Leon loosened the grip on his gun, then tightened it again to reaffirm its existence. He peered into the darkness, hoping for some sense of what was to come, but it was only a black hole. Through the rain, the lights barely affected the foliage outside the fence. He stole a brief look at his counterpart, and that's when it attacked.
Without warning, a figure jumped out of the brush. Milo fired as a knee-jerk reaction, unsure of where exactly to shoot. The figure crashed into Leon, knocking him into the mud, splashing it all around. It scratched Milo's arm, pushing him to the side. Milo held himself up against a tree and fired again.
The creature let out an agonizing yell. It stood on all fours on top of Leon, pinning his arms and legs to the ground. Leon, momentarily stunned, attempted to look at his captor. Rain poured onto his eyes, making any vision nearly impossible. He thrashed both his hands in a feeble attempt to get his gun but the creature's grip was painfully strong. It breathed in ragged breaths, seemingly unprepared for any type of resistance. A warm sensation near Leon's knee prompted him to raise his head and strain to look at it. A tiny red puddle stood out in the otherwise drab setting. The figure was bleeding.
His arm bruised, Milo stood with his gun poised and ready. His eyes darted momentarily to the fence. They had left it open. He began inching his way toward it, slowly, so as not to attract too much attention. He kept his gaze on the dark figure. Small, beady eyes stared back at him. The figure was still shrouded in darkness, but Milo was sure it was something other than human.
More rustling from the bushes caught Leon's attention. He strained to lift his head to see, but the rain and darkness were too thick. He laid his head back down, kicking up more mud and grinding it deeper into his hair, and moved his eyes around to try to see Milo. He saw him briefly, but the strain was too much.
The rustling became louder and suddenly a man burst forth from the bushes. "Milo!" his voice called. The quick distraction was enough for the creature. It lunged at Milo, who had looked towards the stranger, bringing him to the ground, then rolling on its back and thrusting him into the air. Milo landed in the courtyard, just past the fountain, with a distinct thud, his gun missing.
Leon wasted no time. He was up once the creature's pressure was released, his limbs still stinging from its force. He looked and felt in the mud as Milo flew through the air. Finally his right hand landed on the gun and he grabbed it and looked up. The creature walked into the courtyard and Leon fired, emptying the entire round.
The man ran forward as the creature fell. Leon reached out his arm and stopped him. "Stay back, dammit!"
"We have to secure the perimeter immediately," the man said. "There's more and they're coming." The man pushed past Leon, jumping over the creature.
Leon turned towards the jungle, knowing his eyes and ears were useless. All he heard was rain. "Christ," he muttered.
Without warning, a figure jumped out of the brush. Milo fired as a knee-jerk reaction, unsure of where exactly to shoot. The figure crashed into Leon, knocking him into the mud, splashing it all around. It scratched Milo's arm, pushing him to the side. Milo held himself up against a tree and fired again.
The creature let out an agonizing yell. It stood on all fours on top of Leon, pinning his arms and legs to the ground. Leon, momentarily stunned, attempted to look at his captor. Rain poured onto his eyes, making any vision nearly impossible. He thrashed both his hands in a feeble attempt to get his gun but the creature's grip was painfully strong. It breathed in ragged breaths, seemingly unprepared for any type of resistance. A warm sensation near Leon's knee prompted him to raise his head and strain to look at it. A tiny red puddle stood out in the otherwise drab setting. The figure was bleeding.
His arm bruised, Milo stood with his gun poised and ready. His eyes darted momentarily to the fence. They had left it open. He began inching his way toward it, slowly, so as not to attract too much attention. He kept his gaze on the dark figure. Small, beady eyes stared back at him. The figure was still shrouded in darkness, but Milo was sure it was something other than human.
More rustling from the bushes caught Leon's attention. He strained to lift his head to see, but the rain and darkness were too thick. He laid his head back down, kicking up more mud and grinding it deeper into his hair, and moved his eyes around to try to see Milo. He saw him briefly, but the strain was too much.
The rustling became louder and suddenly a man burst forth from the bushes. "Milo!" his voice called. The quick distraction was enough for the creature. It lunged at Milo, who had looked towards the stranger, bringing him to the ground, then rolling on its back and thrusting him into the air. Milo landed in the courtyard, just past the fountain, with a distinct thud, his gun missing.
Leon wasted no time. He was up once the creature's pressure was released, his limbs still stinging from its force. He looked and felt in the mud as Milo flew through the air. Finally his right hand landed on the gun and he grabbed it and looked up. The creature walked into the courtyard and Leon fired, emptying the entire round.
The man ran forward as the creature fell. Leon reached out his arm and stopped him. "Stay back, dammit!"
"We have to secure the perimeter immediately," the man said. "There's more and they're coming." The man pushed past Leon, jumping over the creature.
Leon turned towards the jungle, knowing his eyes and ears were useless. All he heard was rain. "Christ," he muttered.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Untitled: Parts 1-4 [EDITS]
March '07 - April '07. Expect the conclusion to be coming shortly.
The smell of rain was nauseating. For three days it had rained, drenching the entire complex, and Leon Charles was sick of it. It wasn't just the smell, but also the feel of mud conforming to the shape of his boots whenever he stepped outside; the constant patter on all surfaces, a reminder that he could not escape. Someone asked him before the storm started if he was interested in getting off the island. "No," he had replied. "There's still things to do here." Now, one of three people who were stranded until the storm ended, he regretted not bringing his raincoat.
He passed by a window and stole a brief look outside. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds hidden behind rain drops hidden behind streaks of water on the window. He could make out the surroundings only because he had seen them so many times before. The courtyard outside was empty of people. In the middle a fountain spouted water into the air. Just behind it, hidden amongst palm fronds and small bushes, was the perimeter fence.
He walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The door to the cafeteria slid open as he approached it. As usual, it was empty. The odds of meeting the other two people were slim. Each had their own work to do, with varying hours of operation. Yesterday Leon had met one in passing in the hallway. They exchanged a friendly nod and smile, but nothing more. Their lives were completely separate.
He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the middle of the room. A radio played soft music over several speakers. He opened an auto magazine that he kept on the table and looked over the old articles. He had read every one already, but they helped to take him away from his work.
A half hour later he dumped the bowl into the dishwasher and left the cafeteria. On the way to his office he passed another window and looked outside, as an automatic reaction. It was different. Someone was out there.
Leon stopped just as he caught the image of a figure outside. He backed up and leaned against the window. Standing in the courtyard was a person, drenched in the rain. He stood bent, working on the fountain. He was getting sprayed from the fountain and rain.
Suddenly the man stood upright. He looked around him, in the direction of the fence. He reached towards his side for the gun Leon knew he carried. Without warning a black shape passed into the courtyard. Leon, startled, backed away from the window, but only for a moment. When he returned, the man and shape were gone.
"Oh shit," Leon whispered to himself. He wasted no time. He ran for the nearest exit.
By the time Leon reached the courtyard he was out of breath. He paused at the the doorway, looking through the raindrops to the open fence. He thought about sounding the alarm, but reasoned that he could deal with this problem without the need for any trouble. No help could come, anyway, and it would only cause panic.
He took a cautious step into the rain and immediately shivered. The rain and air were cold. After the initial shock, he wasted no time, and moved quickly to the fence. He reached it and stared blindly into the forest beyond. There was no hope of seeing the man unless he had stayed nearby. He hadn't. Leon closed the fence, locked it, and started back. In a minute he was inside, behind another locked door, safe. But he had to tell someone about what had just happened, in case there was an adverse effect.
He first went to the cafeteria, but it was empty, his magazine the lone occupant. Next he sped down the hall, in the opposite direction of his office, dripping water down the hallway. His shoes squeaked in an otherwise quiet environment. He passed several doors and finally stopped at one. The named outside read "Milo Cervantes." Beneath it, "Systems Manager." Leon knocked. He heard a voice come faintly through the door. "Come in."
Leon turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. It creaked, obviously aged, in contrast to the rest of the facility. Milo sat across from the door, at a desk, watching a muted TV. The lighting was low and the glow of the TV illuminated Milo's face. It was middle-aged, bearded, short hair, piercing eyes.
"Shut it," Milo said, not unkind, without turning to face Leon. Leon obeyed. Once the door was shut, Milo turned to him. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"
"Something's entered the perimeter," Leon responded quickly. His gaze never left Milo's, for fear of the potential result.
"You saw it happen?"
"Yes."
"Then we've no time to lose." Milo was quick to act. In one swift motion the TV was off, he pulled a jacket over himself, and grabbed two guns from a drawer. He threw one in Leon's direction. "You know how to use it?"
Leon took a moment to think. "Of course. It's part of the training."
"Good, come on." Milo moved past Leon to the door. "You'll need your coat."
"I'm not going back out there. I've heard of what's through that fence."
Milo stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned slowly. The dim overhead light casted shadows over his eyes, making dark holes. "And what do you think it is?"
Leon started to speak, then stopped. He had heard the stories from older members of his crew. No one could properly explain the phenomenon that occurred outside the protected area. Few of the surviving members currently working had had direct experience with it. Most of the stories were several decades old. No employee of the past twenty years would have thought about leaving the fence without proper protection and transport.
Milo stepped towards Leon and stood in front of him, their eyes staring at each other. "You don't come with me now, and whatever the hell you think is out there, will come in here...And then we'll have a bigger problem."
Milo turned quickly and opened the door. "And grab a coat. It's pouring," he said as he passed through the doorway, leaving Leon momentarily paralyzed.
Leon followed Milo to the exit to the courtyard. Milo paused at the door and checked his gun, then turned to Leon, sizing him up.
"No coat," Leon explained.
"Of course," Milo replied.
Milo opened the door and Leon shivered as the cold air rushed in. It brought with it the smell and feel he had come so accustomed to. It still sickened him. As Milo went out, he pulled the hood over his head. Amongst the sound of the patter on leaves and concrete came the additional patter on plastic.
Leon shut the door behind him and braced for the rain. He stepped forward into it, straining to see anything in the wet haze.
Milo lead them to the perimeter fence. It was still shut and locked. Milo looked to Leon. "You ready?" Leon nodded. Milo gripped the handle, turned it, and swung the door open. He and Leon stepped back for a moment, then stood in the entrance way, guns poised and ready. Leon gripped the pistol as tightly as he could in the rain.
The two stood there, staring into the jungle. Leon suddenly heard a noise, a rustling of leaves and branches. Without changing his focus, he whispered to Milo. "You hear that?"
"Yeah..."
Leon squinted, trying to see through the rain. The rustling became louder, and closer.
The smell of rain was nauseating. For three days it had rained, drenching the entire complex, and Leon Charles was sick of it. It wasn't just the smell, but also the feel of mud conforming to the shape of his boots whenever he stepped outside; the constant patter on all surfaces, a reminder that he could not escape. Someone asked him before the storm started if he was interested in getting off the island. "No," he had replied. "There's still things to do here." Now, one of three people who were stranded until the storm ended, he regretted not bringing his raincoat.
He passed by a window and stole a brief look outside. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds hidden behind rain drops hidden behind streaks of water on the window. He could make out the surroundings only because he had seen them so many times before. The courtyard outside was empty of people. In the middle a fountain spouted water into the air. Just behind it, hidden amongst palm fronds and small bushes, was the perimeter fence.
He walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The door to the cafeteria slid open as he approached it. As usual, it was empty. The odds of meeting the other two people were slim. Each had their own work to do, with varying hours of operation. Yesterday Leon had met one in passing in the hallway. They exchanged a friendly nod and smile, but nothing more. Their lives were completely separate.
He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the middle of the room. A radio played soft music over several speakers. He opened an auto magazine that he kept on the table and looked over the old articles. He had read every one already, but they helped to take him away from his work.
A half hour later he dumped the bowl into the dishwasher and left the cafeteria. On the way to his office he passed another window and looked outside, as an automatic reaction. It was different. Someone was out there.
Leon stopped just as he caught the image of a figure outside. He backed up and leaned against the window. Standing in the courtyard was a person, drenched in the rain. He stood bent, working on the fountain. He was getting sprayed from the fountain and rain.
Suddenly the man stood upright. He looked around him, in the direction of the fence. He reached towards his side for the gun Leon knew he carried. Without warning a black shape passed into the courtyard. Leon, startled, backed away from the window, but only for a moment. When he returned, the man and shape were gone.
"Oh shit," Leon whispered to himself. He wasted no time. He ran for the nearest exit.
By the time Leon reached the courtyard he was out of breath. He paused at the the doorway, looking through the raindrops to the open fence. He thought about sounding the alarm, but reasoned that he could deal with this problem without the need for any trouble. No help could come, anyway, and it would only cause panic.
He took a cautious step into the rain and immediately shivered. The rain and air were cold. After the initial shock, he wasted no time, and moved quickly to the fence. He reached it and stared blindly into the forest beyond. There was no hope of seeing the man unless he had stayed nearby. He hadn't. Leon closed the fence, locked it, and started back. In a minute he was inside, behind another locked door, safe. But he had to tell someone about what had just happened, in case there was an adverse effect.
He first went to the cafeteria, but it was empty, his magazine the lone occupant. Next he sped down the hall, in the opposite direction of his office, dripping water down the hallway. His shoes squeaked in an otherwise quiet environment. He passed several doors and finally stopped at one. The named outside read "Milo Cervantes." Beneath it, "Systems Manager." Leon knocked. He heard a voice come faintly through the door. "Come in."
Leon turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. It creaked, obviously aged, in contrast to the rest of the facility. Milo sat across from the door, at a desk, watching a muted TV. The lighting was low and the glow of the TV illuminated Milo's face. It was middle-aged, bearded, short hair, piercing eyes.
"Shut it," Milo said, not unkind, without turning to face Leon. Leon obeyed. Once the door was shut, Milo turned to him. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"
"Something's entered the perimeter," Leon responded quickly. His gaze never left Milo's, for fear of the potential result.
"You saw it happen?"
"Yes."
"Then we've no time to lose." Milo was quick to act. In one swift motion the TV was off, he pulled a jacket over himself, and grabbed two guns from a drawer. He threw one in Leon's direction. "You know how to use it?"
Leon took a moment to think. "Of course. It's part of the training."
"Good, come on." Milo moved past Leon to the door. "You'll need your coat."
"I'm not going back out there. I've heard of what's through that fence."
Milo stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned slowly. The dim overhead light casted shadows over his eyes, making dark holes. "And what do you think it is?"
Leon started to speak, then stopped. He had heard the stories from older members of his crew. No one could properly explain the phenomenon that occurred outside the protected area. Few of the surviving members currently working had had direct experience with it. Most of the stories were several decades old. No employee of the past twenty years would have thought about leaving the fence without proper protection and transport.
Milo stepped towards Leon and stood in front of him, their eyes staring at each other. "You don't come with me now, and whatever the hell you think is out there, will come in here...And then we'll have a bigger problem."
Milo turned quickly and opened the door. "And grab a coat. It's pouring," he said as he passed through the doorway, leaving Leon momentarily paralyzed.
Leon followed Milo to the exit to the courtyard. Milo paused at the door and checked his gun, then turned to Leon, sizing him up.
"No coat," Leon explained.
"Of course," Milo replied.
Milo opened the door and Leon shivered as the cold air rushed in. It brought with it the smell and feel he had come so accustomed to. It still sickened him. As Milo went out, he pulled the hood over his head. Amongst the sound of the patter on leaves and concrete came the additional patter on plastic.
Leon shut the door behind him and braced for the rain. He stepped forward into it, straining to see anything in the wet haze.
Milo lead them to the perimeter fence. It was still shut and locked. Milo looked to Leon. "You ready?" Leon nodded. Milo gripped the handle, turned it, and swung the door open. He and Leon stepped back for a moment, then stood in the entrance way, guns poised and ready. Leon gripped the pistol as tightly as he could in the rain.
The two stood there, staring into the jungle. Leon suddenly heard a noise, a rustling of leaves and branches. Without changing his focus, he whispered to Milo. "You hear that?"
"Yeah..."
Leon squinted, trying to see through the rain. The rustling became louder, and closer.
Purpose
I already have a journal (goldh37.livejournal.com) that was originally used specifically to write about new ideas I had. It has started to veer away from that goal, so I have created this blog. It will be specifically involving fiction and poetry that I have written, or ideas that I am working out. Some may be thought out and some may be stream of conscious.
Please comment if you have any positive or negative feedback.
Thank you,
Harrison
Please comment if you have any positive or negative feedback.
Thank you,
Harrison
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