32 Night

The stars shine down on her and the frozen field beneath her feet. Small clouds drifting from her mouth, she stares towards the east. She stares and wishes with all her might that there will be another sunrise. She hopes her wishes will somehow affect the matter for the better.

Some might say that another sunrise was as probable as time passing, but seeing the clear starry moonless sky, the stiffened grass which can be broken off with a crunch and feeling the cold growing ever more intense, she is not so sure. And she feels that she has to do something, even if that something is only staring towards the east and hoping for the best. Because if she just stopped concentrating, if she just went home or did something else and there was never another sunrise, she would forever regret not doing the little she was able.

So she stands still, staring, hoping. And hopefully, another sunrise will come before she becomes as stiff as the frozen grass.

27 Flight

You spread out your wings. The world shrinks beneath you as the wind carries you up through the clouds to where the sky goes on for ever and ever and ever.

Where the light is everywhere.

And it is bitterly cold.

Moving Forwards part 5

Rodger is pacing back and forth in his flat. He goes to the bedroom. The living room. Into the kitchen. Opens the fridge. The smell is stale. Something green is growing on the cheese. The lunchmeats still look edible, but his throat ties itself in a knot at the thought of dry bread.

He closes the fridge. Goes to the living room. Back to the kitchen. He opens the fridge. Nothing has changed. He contemplates a lonely carrot in the vegetable drawer, wrinkled and dark. The project leader told him to eat a healthy diet. The carrot does not look healthy anymore.

He closes the fridge. Pulls his fingers through his hair. He really should take a shower. Goes back to the living room. Sits down in front of his computer. Stretches his legs under his desk and rests them on a very strategically placed box.

There is no new mail. Nothing happens on facebook. The posts on reddit are all boring. He votes them all down. His pocket buzzes. He takes up his phone. There is one new message from Frederick.

‘Want to go down to the gym one last time?’

Rodger smiles.

Then there is something dark under his desk. Something slimy. Something cold. It grabs his feet.

Rodger sat up with a yell. Everything was dark. Something was over his head. And something else was out there. He struggled to free himself from his jacket. There was a faint splash just as he stood up. His eyes finally rid of their cover stared at the water.

The moon was strong and almost full. It made the shadows of the trees sharp. And black. As if their spirals had been drawn in coal on blue-green paper. The only sound was the lapping of the waves.

Rodger swallowed. Took one step closer to the water. The thing must have dived. He went a bit closer. There was no sign of anything. Perhaps he had just imagined it? Was the loneliness really getting to him already?

No, it could not be. He had felt those cold slimy hands on his ankle. Or whatever they were. And something had jumped into the water. But what was it?

Was it something intelligent? Why had it fled from him? Of course he had yelled, he might have startled it. But why did it approach him while he slept? Was it looking for easy prey? Rodger shivered. He told himself it was the cold.

He went back to his rucksack and jacket. Studied the ground around where he had been sleeping. There were no signs of any footprints. But the earth was so hard packed that he did not leave any footprints himself either.

Nothing seemed to have been touched. His jacket looked just as it were, his rucksack had a hollow where his head had been. He checked his trouser leg. The end was a bit damp. Or maybe it was just cold. It was hard to tell. He shrugged on his jacket and sat down. What to do now?

There was a small splash and he turned his head. Nothing. Just waves. Could he really be sure that the splash he had heard came from a living creature?

He sighed. Put on his rucksack. There was plenty of light to walk by and trying to get more sleep tonight would be useless.

 

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This is part 5 read part 1 here:


http://abolg.wordpress.com/2012/02/22/moving-forwards-part-1/

 

Moving Forwards part 3

As Rodger walked down the path of white stones, his ears reddened from the cold. He tucked his hands under his armpits and increased his pace. He looked left and right regularly, hoping for something. Anything.

What if there was a tide? What would he do when it came in? Behind him he could still see the wound in the sky. But Frederick had been unable to hear him even when he had stood right below the machine. He could easily disappear beneath the cold water and Frederick would never know where he went. Would not even be able to look for him.

Something moved in the waves to his right. He shook his head and looked again, but there was only water. He hurried on.

His nose ran. He wiped it with his sleeve. Why did he ever say yes to this stupid expedition? Oh, he knew the answer to that, he cursed himself under his breath, but what would all that money be worth if he got stuck in this God forsaken dimension? He gazed out across the water to where the sea and sky merged. It looked exactly like the sky had done on his last day at home.

He and Frederick had been to the gym that morning and they had decided to take a walk along the beach before parting. Frederick was going home to his family. Rodger was going home to his empty flat.

‘You’ve never really told me about your family,’ said Rodger picking up a flat stone.

‘There’s not much to tell,’ Frederick pulled his fingers through his messy yellow hair.

‘Tell me what there is’ Rodger tossed the stone and it skipped on the water five times before sinking.

‘Well, I still have my parents,’ said Frederick picking up a stone, ‘my mother makes the best fried chicken.’

Rodger had a sinking feeling.

‘You’ll have to try it when we get back,’ continued Frederick. ‘And my father knows everything about rocks.’ Frederick smiled, ‘but you had better not ask him about that, he can go on for hours.’ He tossed the stone which skipped seven times before plumping under the surface.

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ said Rodger and threw another stone. It skipped twice. Of course Frederick’s parents were great.

‘Then I have a brother who is two years older than me. He’s a trucker, but shorter than me and so thin it almost looks dangerous. We always joke that he should have been the nurse.’

Rodger looked at the tribal on Frederick’s bulging upper arm. He would never have guessed nurse when he first met Frederick.

‘Then there’s my little sister, Lily,’ Frederick crouched down, picked up and discarded several stones, ‘she’s only twelve.’

‘So she’s, what,’ said Rodger, ‘fourteen years younger than you?’

‘Fifteen,’ said Frederick, ‘and she’s the cutest thing in the world. It’ll be a hassle chasing the boys off when she gets older.’

Rodger tried to smile.

‘It sounds like quite the family.’ Rodger felt an emptiness in his stomach. He should never have asked about the family.

‘It is,’ said Frederick, ‘man, it’ll be tough saying goodbye.’ He studied the stone in his hand. Rodger looked down at him. Frederick turned the stone over and over with his fingers, his blue eyes unfocussed, the corners of his mouth turned down.

‘Why are you going?’ said Rodger.

‘What?’ Frederick looked up.

‘It doesn’t sound like you want to leave them.’

‘I don’t,’ Frederick rose to his feet and gazed out over the water.

‘Then why are you going?’

‘Lily’s going blind.’

Rodger opened his mouth, but closed it again without a sound.

‘It began about a year ago,’ said Frederick with his back turned, ‘she can see with glasses as it is, but it’s getting worse. The doctor says she’ll be blind within the year without an operation. If I just get back from this one expedition, it’ll be enough.’

Rodger swallowed. He went up to Frederick and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘You’ll get back,’ said Rodger, ‘don’t worry, you’ll get back.’

Rodger wiped his nose again as he marched along the white stone path. At least Frederick would still get his share.

This is part three, here are parts one and two:

His Nails Blue as the Water

As he lay shivering, his blood freezing, his skin melting in the hole that they had thrown him in, and piled earth on, piling and piling until it seemed to graze the sky, he twisted against the vast quantities of earth which were drowning his lungs, blocking his eyes, muffling all sound, but pressing on his eardrums with a power so great that he screamed, forcing his jaws apart, letting out his voice, letting in the soil, letting it tumble into his mouth, bringing with it the taste of old moss, sand, worms, making him gag, retch, before he found out that nothing was coming up other than more dirt, more sand, more worms, more of all the things that covered him.

—————

This is the result of a writing exercise from this weekend.

We had to choose a sentence from a previous exercise and write a new text with that as the title. The special thing about this exercise was that we were not allowed to use any full stops until the exercise was done. This edited version is a bit shorter than the rough draft, but much better.  I should really have recorded it and put it up as an mp3. This kind of text is meant to be read aloud.

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