Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Wind

I wrote this in the 7th grade and sent a copy to my grandfather. My grandmother just found it and sent it back to me. The pages were out of order,the last page is missing, but I don't think she noticed. It's a very existential or some shit, story, I don't think they noticed that either.

Carefully picking her way through the rubble of the destroyed housse Jane neared a distraught family already surrounded by other reporters. Jane elbowed her way through tand started scribbling notes on her note pad. The father was speaking at the moment, the mother was staring in shock at the rubble that used to be their house. The two young girls were looking around at the police cars, fire engines and ambulances wailing by.
"We came back from our camping trip just in time to see it," the man was saying. "The tree just swayed and toppled over, we were lucky we weren't in there." Here his gaze flicked tot he left and Jane followed it. Lifeless and twitching bodies were being carried out of the rubble on strechers to ambulances.
Jane stepped back out of the crowd of reporters and sought out the chief of police.
"Does anyone know why the tree fell?" Jane asked, scribbling some notes.
He looked up and sighed. "This is it: It wasn't cut, the roots are right there. The ground was soggy from all the rain we've been getting lately, and the roots weren't very deep. And the wind the wind had been buffeting it, one last shove and it was over," the chief looked up and continued. "Four houses and one room were crushed."
Jane stopped scribbling notes for a moment. "What does 'And one room' mean?"
"Well, look at this," the chief made his way over to the base of the tree where the roots were sticking up in the air. "The tree fell at an angle, crushing everything. But this house," he points to a house that had only one back room crushed by the tree. "By the time the tree got to that house, it only got the den."
"Lucky guy huh?"
The chief shook his head. "He was in there, talking on the phone."
"And this house," Jane motioned to a house where only the front was still standing. "Was that a families house?"
Shakes his head. "Nope, a single guy," he said referring to his notes. "I think he's engaged."
"He wasn't there?"
"He was answering the door, some salesman," the chief looked around. "I'd better get back to work."
Jane looked up from her notes and at her surroundings. Had the tree fallen backwards, Jane noticed, it would've fallen on the garage and the extensive backyard. Forward and it would have gotten the house across the street. Had it fallen the other way... here Jane looked behind her at the orderly row of houses stretching away from the rubble and chaos the fallen tree had created.
Jane shivered and pulled her coat closer around her as a wisp of cold wind passed by. She finished the rest of questioning quickly, then hurried to her motorcycle. She threw her notes into the trunk and hopped on. The wind


yeah, it ends there. pretty heinous huh? I couldn't help myself and fixed a bit of the spelling and grammar, I kept in most of the crap. I just couldn't stand seeing the word 'cheif' misspelled constantly. It's all handwritten on that blue lines notebook paper. Neither my spelling nor my writing talent has improved much in the last 10 odd years. a little depressing actually.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

daydreamssss

'... go to jail and be someone's fuck buddy' the voice was obviously embarrassed to be quoting his dead son's problems.
Where is the point of silence? What is the point of silence? that lover walked walked walked through that door and questions don't have to have answers
sorry i am, am i sorry, i am sorry. visions of drowning make my chest tighten. the deep blue, the blue deep, the panic, the stress, the eventual drift, drift, driftiness.
are you scared? are you petrified and terrified, have you tried and tried and tried? unable to sleep or read or think or live or die.
are you tired? do you daydream of death to live through another day?, find speeches of hope fill you with dread?,
i like to be choked while being fucked, i don't say i hope to die this way. honesty, badly timed, ruins great sex any day.
do you too wish to not have to deal with everything, anything, naughts and oughts. is everything boiled down to it's tiring denominators of waking, sleeping, eating dumping, out the door and in another? why wont it stop stop stop.
i can't talk i can't talk. i have many, too many words in my head.
these words lose all meaning as soon as they leave. open my mouth i don't know what comes out. it's not what's inside what's inside? nothing nothing nothing.
i can't talk i can't say goway and leave this place is damned all who enter here..
i thought i do i'm waiting though