Wednesday, September 9, 2015

September 9


7 comments:

  1. "What's your problem?" I screamed at the guy, giving him a shove. "You bit me!"
    The strange man didn't respond. At least, not with words. Staggering forward, he came at me again, mouth wide.
    "Get away from me, dude!" I yelled, shoving him again. The man stumbled backwards, slipped off the curb, and and landed in the road.
    The bite he left on my arm was pulsing and gushing blood. At least I got his license plate number. Between that and the footage from the rear camera on my Benz, I should have enough for the cops.
    Not that it matters now. I died twice today.

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  2. That's great! I love it. You've got a new slant on the Zombie thing!

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  3. His fist filled with her thick brown hair and her head jerked backwards. The sun made a point of reminding Glenda that she didn’t wear a hat, her first thought as the tremendous light permeated her eyelids. Later the nurse would remind Glenda that she had been robbed at night, the light most likely caused by the extreme force of the assailant gripping her hair and forcing her head back.

    He held a knife under her throat and demanded that she drop her purse, but Glenda’s mind had been influenced by her denial and refused to process the instructions. Only one mental message penetrated her shock and repeated itself dozens of times, as if the electric impulses in her brain had been caught in a single groove on a turn table.

    This can’t be happening she thought as steel wool stubble scratched her face and fetid breath invaded her nostrils. This can’t be happening Glenda heard as a sharp sting crossed her neck and hot fluid dripped down her chest. Arms hung limp at her sides and her body flopped like a rag doll to the ground before her head slammed into the pavement.

    This can’t be happening.

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  4. Though tracking her is fun, choreographing the “accidental” meetings makes my toes tingle with excitement. Tonight, Julia is driving along her usual path homeward bound. It’s almost too easy to follow her because she never checks her mirrors to determine whether someone, anyone—even her trustworthy yoga pal—is pursuing her.

    She’s circling around to find a space for her little red Honda Fit somewhere in the lot, since there’s no overnight street parking. Here’s my chance. I’ve got maybe 30 seconds to get into a street space, jog over toward her front door, and fake like I’m strolling to, or maybe from, a friend’s place. I wonder if I can fawn over her so much that she invites me in. What to say, what to say…

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    Replies
    1. I really like the point of view of this and the voice too. Great start!!

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  5. I know I'm late, but here's my attempt at an initial action for Gaither :D

    The wind blew through my hair as I cruised down the block in my golf cart. Taz sat in the seat beside me with his tongue blowing in the breeze. My son got me the golf cart for Christmas—Chicks love a guy with a good pair of wheels, he’d said. I liked having a new pair of wheels too. It made living in Leisure World slightly less depressing.

    There were several wonderful houses, but none with flowers sitting on the porch until I came up to Mickey’s place. Her husband had passed two weeks ago, and yet several groups of roses in vases crowded her door. Surely these guys weren’t that big of scumbags, were they? You had to have some amount of respect for the passing of a loved one before you tried to get cozy with the widow.

    When I stopped the cart at Mickey’s driveway, Taz looked up at me and rolled his eyes. I patted his head, “We’re just saying hello,” I said. I turned to get out of the cart and shuffled my feet up the cement pathway to her doorstep, stopping only long enough to grab a white dandelion from the edge of her lawn. They just didn’t edge lawns like they used to anymore.

    When I got as far as the step, I saw her curtains open slightly in the window nearby. The cloth was then shoved back into its closed position within a matter of seconds. She wasn’t interested in visiting today. That’s completely understandable, I thought as I tried with all my might to lift my leg up onto her porch step. If she didn’t want to visit, I wasn’t going to force her to come answer the door. With one swoop, I swung my foot and knocked over one vase. The several vases crowding her doorstep tumbled over like a domino effect. Whoever had given her those roses wasn’t going to get cozy with Mickey if I had anything to say about it.

    With the roses littering her porch, I turned and shuffled back towards the cart.

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