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Showing posts from January, 2018

The Ghost With No Manners (Experiment #4)

The Ghost With No Manners Laid out on the couch Wasted Waves in the corner of my eye I turn to find a figure, beaming with multicolored light Moving across my wall I guess people don't knock anymore Floating around like he pays the rent Whatever TV's on Vision blurry A loud crash Turn to a shattered mug on the floor Really bro? That's rude I don't go to your dimension and start knocking things down ... or up ... or out ... or whatever directions your dimension has You listening to me? No response I guess people don't say hello anymore I jump as the bathroom door slams Jesus! It's 2am. Keep it down I don't know what to do with this guy I'm dosing off I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise Hearing an eerie whisper in my ear "Everyone you know will someday die Then they will be with me, and not with you" ... You're a jerk.

Map Of Rehearsal Story (Experiment #3)

        Below is an illustration of the setting of a story about a band at rehearsal. The Map is quite simple. On the right, you can see there is an overhead view of a building which is the rehearsal studio. The parking lot behind it has one lone truck parked there. On the upper left, you see an inside shot of the rehearsal studio. On the lower left there is a closeup of the truck in the parking lot with a guitar case outside the driver's door.         The story is essentially a cross between "Spinal Tap" and "Seinfeld". You simply have a band at practice late at night, being the only ones at the rehearsal studio. They basically just talk about random stuff in between a few songs and continue their conversation at the parking lot while loading up the truck. The dialogue would obviously have to be humorous and interesting to keep the story watchable/readable.         The band consists of three guys. The simplicity of this type of premise leaves a lot of

A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Souls (Experiment #1)

A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Souls         It was Sunday when my friends called me up. Perfect weather, perfect day. Didn't matter to me, depression has no preference in climate. It sounded like they had already been drinking. Almost noon, good start. They've been trying to get me out of the house for months now, and today seemed like the day to battle my demons. Golf they said, how predictable. Not much of a sports guy, or a people person, but whatever let's golf.          They pull up in Roger's '99 Porsche Carrera. I thought he had sold that piece of junk. George gets out of the passenger seat and folds it down for me to get in. "How's it going, cocksucker?", he says, douchey as usual. I don't respond. I get in to find Roger's girl in the backseat, Rachel Feinstein. My heart starts pounding as I slide in next to her. My knee touches hers and I quickly jerk it away. She simply cracks a smile and says, "Hi". I die. I simply can&