A silent hour exists from 3 to four in any small town. The deafening tone of a ringing fills the ears of any passerby as not even a pin can be heard for lack of people to drop it. Some call it the witching hour and others call it magic time. There's probably life going on somewhere. The bugs that never rest or some tumescent policeman sleeping in a car in the knowledge that his computer will beep if anyone speeds by and at this hour his odds on that not happening are good. So the world is asleep.
Those who are no good are are awake in their houses. Insomniacs, drug addicts and deranged, driveling derelicts, doomed to drone on about the daft, dark alleyways of devious criminals. It is in these minds that the shadows truly come.
The writer, with his pen, kills more people than the average murderer does in his life time. c'est la vie.
In his magnum opus, one such driveler realizes the number of men he's killed off in his fantasies and reality and fantasy begin to mesh like fusion in a reactor. His world begins to implode and become the things of his stories.
The shining, silver revolver sits on his desk like a bad cliché from film Noir.
At 3:35 AM, the witching hour, the gunshot makes a whisper and nobody knows.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Dogmatic Retribution
He sat by the computer with the door open smoking a cigarette. His muscles ached because he hadn't eaten much in days. He just sat there and wrote down stories of deadly fires all day.
There are forces of fate that wander the earth with blood lust, and we don't even know they exist. This man was about to get the lesson that we are taught for the wrong thoughts and actions that attract dark evil.
"A warm fire brewed in the hearth and Julia went for the door.
This was no ordinary door, this was a cabin door from when they didn't make locks, only heavy wooden bars with metal on the ends.
Julia was an athletic girl but she still just barely lifted to let her boyfriend in."
In the back of his computer a tiny chip of a screw on a fan came off and made a noise, not unlike that of an airplane propeller. He didn't notice though, because he wrote his own death on the page with vigor and joviality.
"'Hey babe, you smell something?'
'No jack, I been smoking cigarettes in the house, now come here and kiss me.'
Jack picked up the wooden bar and struggled to get it on the latch and went straight to work. What he didn't know was that the metal had heated up and the door was slowly melting away."
The fan snapped and flew into an electrical wire that made the screen start to flicker but not completely go out.
"As the metal turned molten and the door burst into flames, They began to notice there might be a problem. As Julia ran into the living room, she noticed the entire outside of the house was on flames, burning its way inside."
The conflagration caught the rubber on his shoes but he was so intensely into the story that he actually believed he was dreaming and feeling the scenario.
"All of a sudden, every window burst at once. Shards of glass peppered every inch of the cabin, ricocheting and pounding even the smallest of niches. Jack and Julia fell to the floor, unconscious."
As his skin started to melt he began to notice that he was on fire but it was too late as he walked to the shower, turned on the shower, and left a skeleton on the tile.
"Jack and Julia awoke being burned alive. They leaped out through a shattered window and escaped with their major lacerations, third degree burns and psychological issues. Their recovery seemed endless but they were healed and they lived.
THE END.
There are forces of fate that wander the earth with blood lust, and we don't even know they exist. This man was about to get the lesson that we are taught for the wrong thoughts and actions that attract dark evil.
"A warm fire brewed in the hearth and Julia went for the door.
This was no ordinary door, this was a cabin door from when they didn't make locks, only heavy wooden bars with metal on the ends.
Julia was an athletic girl but she still just barely lifted to let her boyfriend in."
In the back of his computer a tiny chip of a screw on a fan came off and made a noise, not unlike that of an airplane propeller. He didn't notice though, because he wrote his own death on the page with vigor and joviality.
"'Hey babe, you smell something?'
'No jack, I been smoking cigarettes in the house, now come here and kiss me.'
Jack picked up the wooden bar and struggled to get it on the latch and went straight to work. What he didn't know was that the metal had heated up and the door was slowly melting away."
The fan snapped and flew into an electrical wire that made the screen start to flicker but not completely go out.
"As the metal turned molten and the door burst into flames, They began to notice there might be a problem. As Julia ran into the living room, she noticed the entire outside of the house was on flames, burning its way inside."
The conflagration caught the rubber on his shoes but he was so intensely into the story that he actually believed he was dreaming and feeling the scenario.
"All of a sudden, every window burst at once. Shards of glass peppered every inch of the cabin, ricocheting and pounding even the smallest of niches. Jack and Julia fell to the floor, unconscious."
As his skin started to melt he began to notice that he was on fire but it was too late as he walked to the shower, turned on the shower, and left a skeleton on the tile.
"Jack and Julia awoke being burned alive. They leaped out through a shattered window and escaped with their major lacerations, third degree burns and psychological issues. Their recovery seemed endless but they were healed and they lived.
THE END.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Desert Daze
The Western wall was 5 miles away and I hadn't seen a bit of food in 4 days.
I ran away to this god forsaken sand jungle about a week ago when I realized I loved my best friend of 20 years and not my angry, decrepit troll of a wife who had dug her claws in during the 4 years of excruciating harmony.
The whole situation had caused me to drink heavily on an empty stomach, which I hear is bad in a desert but what would you have me do? Water has no kick and therefore isn't worth drinking when you're unhappy in the middle of the desert. Just in case though, I brought along a good half pound of "Train Wreck" to keep my stomach from doing flip flops.
As I walked on, I counted the seconds with the visible heat waves rising from the sand. As I got to the top of the next dune, the heat waves seemed to turn a darker color close to the horizon and I knew somebody else besides me was in this desert. I could never be sure, though, because this mission had been given to me by my publishers in San Fran, who had never seen a desert let alone breathed air this clean because, let's be honest, who wants to live in a fucking desert?
As I reached the form on the horizon, I tried to talk to him in a calm and collected voice.
"ayouthur!" I said.
"American?" He said.
"Yunothaweitotha... Wusternwall?" I said.
There was a hail of laughter as I realized that there were many of these little lemmings all around me.
I thought to myself, this is the middle of the desert, nobody will know if I'm gone...
"Defenyerself yuasshole!" I thought out loud.
Many strange stares gazed at me and terror began to take control. There's nothing like a gathering of melting fat midgets with peahs to scare a man straight.
"Peah... sis." I said.
"Peahs," the midget melty repeated.
"yuarabbi?" I said.
"I think so," he responded.
The wall rose up in front of me like the tooth of an astronomical dragon. As I realized where I was relief overcame me. That was also about the time that I realized the motivation keeping me conscious was also gone and then the world when blank.
I ran away to this god forsaken sand jungle about a week ago when I realized I loved my best friend of 20 years and not my angry, decrepit troll of a wife who had dug her claws in during the 4 years of excruciating harmony.
The whole situation had caused me to drink heavily on an empty stomach, which I hear is bad in a desert but what would you have me do? Water has no kick and therefore isn't worth drinking when you're unhappy in the middle of the desert. Just in case though, I brought along a good half pound of "Train Wreck" to keep my stomach from doing flip flops.
As I walked on, I counted the seconds with the visible heat waves rising from the sand. As I got to the top of the next dune, the heat waves seemed to turn a darker color close to the horizon and I knew somebody else besides me was in this desert. I could never be sure, though, because this mission had been given to me by my publishers in San Fran, who had never seen a desert let alone breathed air this clean because, let's be honest, who wants to live in a fucking desert?
As I reached the form on the horizon, I tried to talk to him in a calm and collected voice.
"ayouthur!" I said.
"American?" He said.
"Yunothaweitotha... Wusternwall?" I said.
There was a hail of laughter as I realized that there were many of these little lemmings all around me.
I thought to myself, this is the middle of the desert, nobody will know if I'm gone...
"Defenyerself yuasshole!" I thought out loud.
Many strange stares gazed at me and terror began to take control. There's nothing like a gathering of melting fat midgets with peahs to scare a man straight.
"Peah... sis." I said.
"Peahs," the midget melty repeated.
"yuarabbi?" I said.
"I think so," he responded.
The wall rose up in front of me like the tooth of an astronomical dragon. As I realized where I was relief overcame me. That was also about the time that I realized the motivation keeping me conscious was also gone and then the world when blank.
English 101
She sat to the side of the class and had a nonchalance withal innocence. Her hair was black and shown in the sun coming from behind the windows. She didn't say much but something about her would attract every guy in that class.
Perhaps it was the way her eyes glowed like she had a forbidden secret she carried or perhaps it was the assumed innocence that was too much for any man to pass up but whatever it was, it was enough to make a man dizzy.
It was that feeling that you get when you run a mile in the hot sun and don't drink enough water so that everything seems distant. It was enough to make those exotic slightly slanted eyes seem like they were deep within the head of an angel.
Just as the thoughts would get the best of us and we began to realize that we were in English class, meant to be listening to the Harry Potter story we were all reading, the bell would ring and time would resume.
Perhaps it was the way her eyes glowed like she had a forbidden secret she carried or perhaps it was the assumed innocence that was too much for any man to pass up but whatever it was, it was enough to make a man dizzy.
It was that feeling that you get when you run a mile in the hot sun and don't drink enough water so that everything seems distant. It was enough to make those exotic slightly slanted eyes seem like they were deep within the head of an angel.
Just as the thoughts would get the best of us and we began to realize that we were in English class, meant to be listening to the Harry Potter story we were all reading, the bell would ring and time would resume.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Interupted thought
I always thought there was a difference between the guy who looks at porn and says, "you know, I'd rather see them in minimal clothing because I'm just lonely," and the guy who thinks, "I want to see this bitch get it bad."
The guy who wants the naive joy of having a sexy girl because he's lonely has no idea what the depraved mind can think about. The greatest depravity a mind can have, is the apathy that follows, once it gets what it wants.
Make no mistaking it. For it is the devil and this apathy will consume you whole before you get the chance to fight it.
The guy who wants the naive joy of having a sexy girl because he's lonely has no idea what the depraved mind can think about. The greatest depravity a mind can have, is the apathy that follows, once it gets what it wants.
Make no mistaking it. For it is the devil and this apathy will consume you whole before you get the chance to fight it.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Fallen one
My son, it is time i tell you the story of your heritage so you might repeat it to me, should we meet again.
2,358 years ago, there was a great storm. The god of man was angry.
The city states of carthage had abused its devine mandate and rome was begining as a result of rape and gluttony. God decreed that should human civilization be the result of war, a new type of angel would be created to monitor and reward the heroes who were strong and brave enough, to end those wars.
As a man stretches his fingers, so did god and these were covered with feathers to become our wings. Arms were created to carry heroes to the heavens and our legs and feet were created to set them down.
The valkery was supposed to be a thing of beauty but in those troubled times many had thier own concept of righteousness. Just as many followed god's example of the good man, i and a few of my breathren refused to carry those who were ruthless in His name.
For this, he condemned us to be reborn forever as humans. We were to live a good life and to die again and again, never to remember that we had begun as angels.
We were thrown aside by god as reborn human entities, again and again.
Through a soothsayers tongue i have found out my true identity as of Friday, but he is dead and so too, soon shall i be. May you grow to love the angels and your god and never forget that he can also be cruel. Meet your challenges and do what is necessary for god favors the bold over the heart-full and mindful. Meet your challenges and you shall be carried on wings like mine that were once real and golden.
If you will not listen to a god, this is your father's command. Obey me, my son, do not fear, and show no mercy for your god and your father command it.
2,358 years ago, there was a great storm. The god of man was angry.
The city states of carthage had abused its devine mandate and rome was begining as a result of rape and gluttony. God decreed that should human civilization be the result of war, a new type of angel would be created to monitor and reward the heroes who were strong and brave enough, to end those wars.
As a man stretches his fingers, so did god and these were covered with feathers to become our wings. Arms were created to carry heroes to the heavens and our legs and feet were created to set them down.
The valkery was supposed to be a thing of beauty but in those troubled times many had thier own concept of righteousness. Just as many followed god's example of the good man, i and a few of my breathren refused to carry those who were ruthless in His name.
For this, he condemned us to be reborn forever as humans. We were to live a good life and to die again and again, never to remember that we had begun as angels.
We were thrown aside by god as reborn human entities, again and again.
Through a soothsayers tongue i have found out my true identity as of Friday, but he is dead and so too, soon shall i be. May you grow to love the angels and your god and never forget that he can also be cruel. Meet your challenges and do what is necessary for god favors the bold over the heart-full and mindful. Meet your challenges and you shall be carried on wings like mine that were once real and golden.
If you will not listen to a god, this is your father's command. Obey me, my son, do not fear, and show no mercy for your god and your father command it.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
The long walk home of 2005
Several years ago, in my college days, or at least my 4 year college days, I used to live across town from my friend Allen Murphy. Often times, I'd stay late into the night and into the witching hour of 3:00 AM - 4:00 AM.
This may need some explanation: Murphy and I called this the witching hour because the town literally quiets and dies at this time. The people, the police and even little scampering animals, disappear from the streets and all you can hear is the wispy noise of a November wind and the deafening roar of a street lamp or 2 lining the streets.
It was on one of these nights that I happened to have stayed past this golden hour at Murphy's and was facing the decision to walk home through the town or stay at his house and get more intoxicated off various substances.
In the end, I decided to walk home because I was already in an altered state of consciousness from my abuses earlier and the guttural knife like feeling came in my gut for sex; my, then girlfriend, happened to be across town.
On my way back, I had made it past most of the darkened streets and onto one of the main roads that was empty when I stopped suddenly to notice Goosebumps developing on my skin, which was awkward granted that I thought I was too drunk to be scared.
The football field bleachers rose high above me on the other side of a large brick wall. It reminded me of the skyscrapers in Chelsea New York City on a similar night. The wind blew through the football field wall, and the buildings across from it, which included a Sub shop, a veterinarian’s office, and a tall bank building on the corner. I believe it was a Summit bank.
I could feel the silence besides the gentle wind and the deafening roar of electricity from the only street lamp on this street.
I looked down the road and denied the vision I had: A tuft of hair stuck out from behind a hydrangea bush and I heard weeping on the other side of it.
"Hey!" I called out.
There was no answer.
"Helooo! Are you alright?" I said.
In my altered state of mind, I hadn't noticed that this hair was more than back hair of a hairy person and was hit by a large grey mass that had teeth and fearsome canine eyes but moved so quickly, it was an indistinct blur of fur.
I struggled with the night monster for 20 minutes before I noticed a car's headlights coming down the street.
My distraction gave the thing a window to bite me hard on the arm as I threw it off but before the car was even to the point where I had fallen, the creature was gone.
My clothes were slightly ruffled but no worse than if I had gotten caught on the wire fence that stemmed off the large brick walled bleachers and the car drove by slowly enough that I could see the comfortable people in it.
They laughed at me through dirty smoke stained windows with an obvious drunk going as well and then disappeared up the street as well.
I remember noticing very quickly that my drunk and intoxicated state had left me very suddenly and the bite mark had also healed instantaneously, leaving no scar but all my wounds before the creature bit me seemed to remain.
I made it home that night quicker than usual and noticed my senses had gotten more acute in the darkness as well.
It wouldn't be until the next full moon till I realized the significance of it all, but that's a story for those who wish to know it. This was the beginning.
This may need some explanation: Murphy and I called this the witching hour because the town literally quiets and dies at this time. The people, the police and even little scampering animals, disappear from the streets and all you can hear is the wispy noise of a November wind and the deafening roar of a street lamp or 2 lining the streets.
It was on one of these nights that I happened to have stayed past this golden hour at Murphy's and was facing the decision to walk home through the town or stay at his house and get more intoxicated off various substances.
In the end, I decided to walk home because I was already in an altered state of consciousness from my abuses earlier and the guttural knife like feeling came in my gut for sex; my, then girlfriend, happened to be across town.
On my way back, I had made it past most of the darkened streets and onto one of the main roads that was empty when I stopped suddenly to notice Goosebumps developing on my skin, which was awkward granted that I thought I was too drunk to be scared.
The football field bleachers rose high above me on the other side of a large brick wall. It reminded me of the skyscrapers in Chelsea New York City on a similar night. The wind blew through the football field wall, and the buildings across from it, which included a Sub shop, a veterinarian’s office, and a tall bank building on the corner. I believe it was a Summit bank.
I could feel the silence besides the gentle wind and the deafening roar of electricity from the only street lamp on this street.
I looked down the road and denied the vision I had: A tuft of hair stuck out from behind a hydrangea bush and I heard weeping on the other side of it.
"Hey!" I called out.
There was no answer.
"Helooo! Are you alright?" I said.
In my altered state of mind, I hadn't noticed that this hair was more than back hair of a hairy person and was hit by a large grey mass that had teeth and fearsome canine eyes but moved so quickly, it was an indistinct blur of fur.
I struggled with the night monster for 20 minutes before I noticed a car's headlights coming down the street.
My distraction gave the thing a window to bite me hard on the arm as I threw it off but before the car was even to the point where I had fallen, the creature was gone.
My clothes were slightly ruffled but no worse than if I had gotten caught on the wire fence that stemmed off the large brick walled bleachers and the car drove by slowly enough that I could see the comfortable people in it.
They laughed at me through dirty smoke stained windows with an obvious drunk going as well and then disappeared up the street as well.
I remember noticing very quickly that my drunk and intoxicated state had left me very suddenly and the bite mark had also healed instantaneously, leaving no scar but all my wounds before the creature bit me seemed to remain.
I made it home that night quicker than usual and noticed my senses had gotten more acute in the darkness as well.
It wouldn't be until the next full moon till I realized the significance of it all, but that's a story for those who wish to know it. This was the beginning.
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