Thank you for taking the time to visit; enjoy the posts...
Creative writing process
HERE is my current one.
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THE CURE CRISIS
.......Scribbled Story Notes-To Self (waiting to be fleshed out):
........................A Conversation...........................................................
- "Wow!"
> "Wow?"
- "You have an interpreter for that script?".. LOL
> "Script?"
- "I can't read cursive."
> "Serious? I thought you were a Journalist, Brycin."
- "Yeah I am, Matthew. LOL Just never came across anyone who still used it. Script went out of style about 60 years ago. With dictational-AI or Texting no one even bothers writing in cursive any more. Kind of a lost art you know."
Matthew:... "In 2013 The Catharsis Church mandated cursive into its priesthood curriculum."
Brycin:... "Ah, so that's what all the post note passing among you fellas is all about."
Matthew:... "Sorry. I'm no longer a priest or Lay Servant as we called them. Here, I'll just re-write the letter for you."
Brycin:... "That Church is something else."
Matthew:... "Yes. They are gaslighting with my head," Matthew said, "and I'm not crazy that's just how they want me to feel, but it's not working; yet."
.
FB-STORIES
I "Published" several of my short stories on Facebook, and created pics for each. All of the characters of my short stories are all connected in some way. Their lives are woven with the fabric having either lived in or currently residing at THE COMPLEX. Those who appear to be simple background characters in one tale are the main players of another story. Hope you enjoy. Comments are welcomed.
.
WHO ARE WE NOW?
were too short
the joys
and laughter
amid those Springs
seems ages ago
that activities
were daydream then
memories now
almost of another
person im not now
the sigh
of passing time
the people
we've become...
~ David DeLane Snow
ZETAS
The most devious of creatures were the Eldren. They are shape-shifters who pride themselves in being half deer and half elf. They lay in waiting for unwary travelers with their spell enchantments of deceit and forgetfulness for those who stumble upon their woods. The Yantuks are half men, half birdlike creatures that feast upon the flesh of disobedient children who come up missing in the night answering the exhausted prayers of frustrated crying parents who have lost their patience!
But the Zetas, they are the most hideous beast among the animal kingdom.
After a longer pause my grandson dared to asked, “Grandfather… What did the Zetas look like?”
My own eyes widened at the request as fear overcame my own heart in trying to answer my grandson.
Demons
But I hear their voices
from time to time they yell
defeatism things that yearn
for me to take them back...
yet I fear the shadows of their black
celled chambers of what if
yet to push forward in light
to learn, feed, and grow
share, inspire, and live
is a far better thing than death.
Life Goes On
Ultra thou shalt not elitism
Once saved always saved
An in it harm none
There's Only One Name
The journey continues
in the wise fashion that the
distance of time brings
clarity of mind that in the end
we are all the same
searching for love
peace, hope and sanity;
I'm not alone and am happy.
The Salun Parchments
I saw her life being extinguished and fade
as in the exhaustion of sorrow.
In the inhale of that crumbling moment
my life’s meaning faded away
as sorrow filled my heart with loneliness.
Cradled in my arms, she died so pale
a lifeless shell, void of expression;
yet forever, my only, one true love…”
The Salun Parchments
Scrolls I:1-9
The sons of god from
righteous lands they came
to take for themselves
the daughters of men
with wicked hearts proclaimed
as teachers of the truth
they were lords of lies
fallen-ones who ruled no more
the day the rains came.
Uruk Tablet No. 3-3
Transliterated by Martha Paske-Townsend
.............................................................
In the garden of Eriduah
the pleasure grove of Eul
there dwelt many wonders
the greatest of these
were the Two Trees
of such bitter-sweet fruit.
Called “Life” and “Wisdom;”
Life was eternal, and
Wisdom without end.
The Salun Parchments
“The Two Trees” I:1-9
.............................................................
The Guardian resonated,
“In it harm none,
Do what you will.
So mote it be;
Remember and be renewed.”
The Salun Parchments
“The Two Trees” I:94-98
.............................................................
OFFLINE To write again...
I'm signing off of my Social Media site, Facebook for awhile so I can concentrate on several neglected projects that have been on the 'back burner' for far too long. One is a Reference book I am developing that I have entitled: The Pagans of Scripture. Written with a very simplistic approach, in that anyone can use any Bible of their choosing and be able to follow along. The concept is to encourage an honest study of the Bible from the perception of learning the difference between Paganism and the Jewish/Christian viewpoint. However, in a "politically correct" manner, the topic is discussed using only the Bible. The denominational flavors and reconstructionist views of these two modern camps will not be presented. The reader will be taken through the Bible and discover for themselves what the ancients believed about the Universal concept of GOD using the Biblical lens. However, historical and other reference material will be provided for readers wishing to continue on to more scholarly works.
THE OBIT
He had always joked that he read the obits just to make sure he didn’t read his own name in the paper; strange thing was - that morning his name was in there and it suddenly didn’t feel like a joke. His light headedness came into clear telescoping focus. Whirling thoughts of who in the world would have gone to such lengths to pay for such a prank ran through his mind. Funny. A lot of names came to him but none stuck for long as his interest pulled him back into a second reading of the article.
Other than the lower case typo of his middle initial, Thomas freaked at the brief but concise details of his short life. For starters thirty six was too young to die, and secondly - how could he be dead?
Looking up from the newspaper it suddenly dawned on him that he was standing in a wholly different apartment. It was the same tiny one bedroom economy, but the furnishings and décor were obviously not his own. He now had a 42” flat screen, a huge 55 gallon aquarium took up space along one side of the wall; and two black recliners were lit by one of those nude figure lamps he had always wanted to buy. The walls were hung with photos of family members he had never met before, and inspection of the bedroom quickly let him know that there was defiantly a female presence about. Thomas relished the idea of being a bachelor, so the ruffled skirt about the bed was almost a bigger jolt than reading of his own demise.
Feeling like he had just woken up in someone else’s home, Thomas went outside to the patio. The numbers on the front door still said 409 and the complex area was the same, with the tennis court to the right and parking lot on his left. Another wave of panic rolled over him as he stood in his vacant spot wondering where his Jeep was.
It was then that Thomas noticed a younger couple laden with groceries heading for his apartment, fumbling for their keys. Going over to them he called out, “Excuse me.”
The young man in his mid twenties and curly brown hair turned about in reply, “Yes sir?”
Wondering what he was going to say, Thomas blurted out, “How long have you been living here?”
The thin brunette smiled, “We got married yesterday and moved in two weeks ago.”
“I’m Sergio and this is Rebecca.”
Extending his hand to return the shake, “I’m - Thomas Reed. I use to live here - awhile back.”
Their smiles changed with a look of sympathy as Sergio conveyed his condolences, “Ah - sorry to hear about your friend. We were told someone had passed away in the apartment ‘bout a month ago.” Rebecca entered through the door leaving the two men on the patio. Thomas couldn’t help his side glance inside. “Were you close?” Asked the new tenant.
“Uh, yeah, yeah we were very close - friends, and it was a shock.” Stammered Thomas.
“You want to come in for a glass of tea?” Rebecca invitingly asked after having dropped off her load of groceries on the counter top. Sergio’s eyes bounced between his new bride and the stranger, questioning Thomas’ awkward pause, “Sure come on in, you can tell us about your friend.”
Catching himself staring wide eyed passed Rebecca, Thomas blushed, “Oh, thanks.” Then edged back into his old apartment.
{Still working on this one...}
COMING SOON!
Over Again
Daniel Arthur O`Ryan lay silent beneath his hospital covers as the heart monitor intermittently sounded its annoying alarm. The eighty-three year old man had been stricken with brain cancer, and now faced his final moments with a barrage of silent noises. The mechanical whirl of his feeding pump began to tone its beep that his meal bags were empty. As per hospital procedures with all patients on a ventilator, Dan’s two middle fingers on both hands had been taped to the bed rails to prevent him from pulling the tube out of his throat. He was quite a sight to behold, all wired up.
Even after the neurologist had told his wife, Sally that he was brain dead, and had drifted off into a coma after having aspirated on his breakfast orange juice, Dan was somehow aware of everything around him. It was as if he had been standing in the corner of the room watching every gory detail to the bitter end, like some damn spectator.
Then, it happened. Just moments after Dan’s cardiologist and his two student nurses departed through the ICU’s sliding glass door, Sally froze where she stood at the foot of the bed. Aghast, in-between excitement and total horror, his wife was speechless. With lightening speed, Dan rose up on both elbows, leaned forward toward his wife’s direction and pulled the breathing tube out of his mouth in one swift motion. Abruptly coming out of his long coma, with eyes wide open, hoarsely told Sally, “To do it all over again --.”
Suddenly every alarm rang out along with his screaming wife as a medical team ran in, witnessing his flat lined computer screen. A second later they began to comfort the DNR’s newly pronounced widow.
A black, silencing moment later everything changed.
Dan found himself totally aware of everything that had just transpired at the moment he died, and yet, somehow -- afterwards as well -- almost. Yet the shock of his present state took him half a moment longer to recover.
Seeing Sally standing in her regular spot behind the teller’s counter of The Second National Bank immediately brought a smile to his now twenty-one year old face. Realizing that this was the very day they were to meet for the first time in their lives, and that a month later he would propose marriage to her made Daniel’s perfect brain race. Being the fourth person in line gave him enough time to compose himself, and figure out why he would have gone back in time to this very moment baffled him tremendously. For he had had no regrets whatsoever about his life with Sally.
Suddenly, his inner thoughts were interrupted as Dan turned about to respond to the tapping on his shoulder. A beautiful, slightly older than him, brunette stood behind him all dressed in black. Aggressively shoving an automatic weapon into his hands, she yelled, “Take it and get to work buddy.”
From that breath onward everything that followed was a complete blur: the chaos of gunfire, people dropping, Sally’s blood splattered against the back wall, the maze of police vehicles and lights, ever changing court dates, and the prison experience itself. As he lay there, all stretched out on the padded gurney, with an audience just beyond the bullet proof, wire re-enforced windows, Dan numbly watched in slow motion as the fluid of his execution edged its way up the tube entering his left arm. A moment later the guard standing next to the controls heard the prisoner say, “To do it all over again.”
Fighting against the waves as more loomed off in the distance, threatening to silence his gasping calls for help, Daniel saw Sally leaning over the side of their blue and white yacht. Holding her usual Long Island Iced-Tea, she was laughingly scolding him to stop his horse play so far in the open waters of the ocean. Suddenly, shouting and pointing to a fin slicing its way through the overpowering currents several yards beyond his bobbing head, they both screamed in unison. Bathed with thoughts of scenes from the movie Jaws, Dan spat out salt water while trying to say, “To do it all over again.” Out of a flash of red came a new realization.
Two men sitting under a covered bus stop grimaced a half smile to one another as a light drizzle of rain began to pour. Growing a little concerned that maybe his bus-stop companion was from loony Ville, the young man replied to the older gentleman as his looked at his watch again, “Wow, man. What in the world did you do to deserve all that?”
Interrupting the multiple stories of his fantastic life, Daniel O`Ryan stood up and cautiously approached the curb so as to hail a yellow cab. His worn expression answered back to his restless companion, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, son.”
Suddenly, without warning the young man jerked back in shock as a FedEx truck jumped the curbed hitting the old man throwing him aside into the oncoming traffic like a discarded rag doll.
As the medical team quietly worked around them, turning off the life support machines, the Psychiatric Hospital’s Chaplain spoke softly to Sally as comforting as his could, “You know, my child only The Father knows the true heart of man.” Then making the sign of the cross, Sally slowly walked out of the room looking for her children down the hall.
Short Story: REMBER WHEN
Of all the Hollywood moments on film or the idealistic wishful thinking of tradition, they would always have the reality of their cherished memories.
He recalled how they first met. She was a beautiful young woman no more that 19 years old. She was walking from the back to the store to the front counter to greet the good looking young man who was obviously eagerly awaiting her to be his cashier. It was a metaphysics shop, loaded with all the usual fair of scented candles, wind chimes and tarot cards and the like. She wore a vale like purple dress, trying for that gypsy look with the over sized hooped ear rings, bangles too many on her left wrist and rings galore on both hands. A shy - look but don’t overly stare at me - glance at the young man, of whom she now let the other brunette clerk take over in her stead. The bait and switch worked for it made the eager customer want to strike up a conversation with the red head all the more. What was her name? That perfume? Her eyes. They - they were beautiful and he could not soak them in enough.
Sally, how could he forget a name like that, never in a million years, nor when they first met over rice and baked beans in the service line of his church’s Fellowship Hall. How he accidentally bumped into her, ruining her Easter dress with his weak red punch. Yet after the clean up she had hardly remembered it at all because of how they had gotten lost in conversation over their forgotten meal and each others eyes.
Really, they had met on their way to a friend’s house. A group had come by a week after his eighteenth birthday; in a friend of a friend’s old beat up ford pickup to be exact. As he piled into the bed of the truck along with the other gaggle of smiling wind blown faces, the young man locked in on her face. Brilliantly lit eyes, whose slightly round facial features were framed by an auburn Farah Fawcett hairstyle of the day. Softy pouting full lips that just beckon to be kissed, yeah that was his first thought of her grin in his direction. She turned out to be the younger sister of a newly made friend of a friend, but at that moment the young man just wanted to know her name. She seemed to have brushed him off into forgetfulness after that first glance, but for him it was love at first sight and he meant for her to know it too. The young man had taken over one of his dearest friend’s girlfriends, but this one here would be his the first time around. There was just something undeniably fascinating about her eyes, and that smile -- he could not get out of his mind. How could he have ever guessed that they would have gotten married and it would last over forty wondrous years.
Her father had offered him a Cuban cigar in the hospital’s waiting room, and as a gift to him for the arrival of the new granddaughter, a fancy promotion as head salesman at his radio station.
Sally never knew her father because he had never been in her life, but her mother and the rest of her extended family of uncles and aunts were there eagerly awaiting the birth of her first child, with balloons and presents to boot.
Actually, it had only been her young nineteen year old husband and just barely a handful to family that joyously greeted their red faced-pointed ear daughter into the world in that small town’s hospital. Taking their new bundle of love home for the first time was scary as hell for him, yet seeing the sheer delight in his young wife’s eyes and those full smiling lips made all the anxiety of how to deal with it all just melt away. Never was there ever a happier day for the two of them as that day when they began their lives so many years ago.
Then again there was the time he had surprised her with a new puppy to cheer her up from having lost her job as a secretary.
Sally had never worked outside the home before, well other than being a nursery worker in the local church they attended. But seeing her receive that singing telegram lit up her face more than he had ever seen.
Seriously, even though he had intended to a thousand times over he had never had flowers delivered to her at home. But seeing her glow at their daughter’s wedding rivaled that of her birth, and the joy with which she radiated.
The old man heard an ambulance round the bend entering the apartment complex’s maze of parking lots. Of all the regrets he had in not making her life better was that of losing her and not being able to have her longer in his life. As he slowly rose off the park bench, and unhurriedly began walking home, he felt content beyond fulfilled - though a little tired. The day was quiet as if someone had turned off all the sound in the world but crying.
Presently, standing outside the faded wood banister of their patio, the old man watched as the coroner loaded the covered body into his station wagon from the sidewalk he himself had paced a thousand times.
The crying that came from beyond the opened door of his own apartment was a deep sobbing gasp. A horrific mournful weeping no man wishes to ever hear from his wife.
***
LINKS
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