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story, sans middle and end.Ray looked out the window. He saw his relfection, but focussed his eyes and tried to see further out, searching for some familiar figure in the darkness. His image blurred on the glass, and the garden pushed through as his iris adjusted. A lemon tree stood in the foreground. It no longer produced lemons, but it cultivated a hope in Ray that someday it would. It's trunk was gnarled, twisted by wood parasites, he thought. He should prune it, fertalize it. Force it to bloom once again, that is, if lemon trees bloom. Ray could not remember. Closing the blinds, he looked at his fingers. Noticing a small amount of growth in one of the nails,story, sans middle and end.
by ~Foetusme
hermanHerman Flick often was inspired to write a book about his life. He would watch movies, uplifting and moving movies that were less kinetic than the word suggests, and think to himself that maybe his life could contain enough interest and serendipity to be made into a movie, or at least a moderately successful book. As soon as the credits rolled and he reeled from the sharp release of the typically straightforward plot, Herman would get up from his couch and narrate his way to the toilet, always making sure to capture some sort of mercurial essence to his unwritten story. When mercurial proved outside his grasp, he settled on leaden. Either wayherman
by ~Foetusme
he stirred in his sleep.Do you want to? She said, and flashed a smile his way.he stirred in his sleep.
Not particularly, came the reply.
Her face sparkled more than it should have and she kissed him. Alcohol was heavy on her breath. Under the dim glow of the streetlights, their lips parted as she skipped off the road and onto the pavement. He stood in the middle of a street he couldn't remember the name of and watched her dance along the concrete. She beckoned for him to follow, saying come on, and then prancing away ahead of him, her dress billowing slightly. He meandered lazily towards her, his steps more uneven than they should have been. They continued down the stre
by ~Foetusme
...BAM! A slick sheen of sweat clings to my skin, making my jeans stick to me like velcro and suddenly I'm bolt upright, a classic nightmare awakening. Light peeks through the curtains like a pervert and I'm forced to decide whether I'm awake or not. After careful deliberation yields no choice, I decide to sleep on it and think about it later. Working my way deeper into the fold in the couch, hoping to seek refuge from the light that seems determined to thwart my quest for sleep, another loud BAM! ricochets through the house. This time I'm well and truly awake, the gauze that had wrapped my head in sleep has been ripped off cartoon s...
by ~Foetusme
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Melbourne, Australia
- Interests: Music (http://www.last.fm/user/foetusme/) , books, BBC comedy
- Favourite movie: I don't know.
- Favourite band or musician: Pavement & Fugazi.
- Favourite genre of music: The good one.
- Favourite poet or writer: Raymond Carver.
- Operating System: Windows.
- Favourite gaming platform: PC
- Tools of the Trade: fingers.
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