I realise theres a lot here but if you do read it and decide you like it then tell me, if you want the basic plot then just ask.
I would really like to know if Im on the right track with all this.
The Brink.
3 months before the brink:
The warm touch of a cold friend glanced across the man’s face as he was heaved from a confined, claustrophobic sleep and into a bereaved state of concussed awareness. ‘’Christ.’’
‘’Hey, hey.’’
The cold friend’s words were distorted in croaks of muffled anguish as he was grabbed by the throat, the other’s hands concaving his wind pipe. Through the friend’s splutters he made out only one word ushered from his lips.
‘’Marian.’’
On this he was instantly dropped, his legs giving way beneath him.
‘’Shit’’ he said as his fist pounded the carpet, his own words driving him on.
‘’What the hell was that, you can’t…you can’t just do that.’’
‘’Then consider next time using the door instead of the windows, what do you want?’’
He looked around the room in disgust before answering the question.
‘’Well certainly not a bed and since drinks are off the menu I guess I’ll get straight to my question’’
He sighed, spilling exasperation over the table as he hoisted himself up. The other man started to prowl down the corridor out of sight. The friend followed.
‘’ I’m putting the team back together’’
A moments silence followed.
‘’Hey, will you listen to me…Mack, Mack!’’
‘’I told you last time.’’ Mack grunted as he continued out of the hall turning left into the kitchen. He clamped his hand tightly round the broom handle, squeezing his anger into the grain of the wood, channelling a course down past his waist towards the floor. He began sweeping, tidying the glass into one corner of the room underneath the counter.
‘’No.’’
‘’She told me to come, Marian, told me to come, said it was important’’
‘’You might be telling the truth but it’s more likely you just chasing up old habits’’
‘’Your sick…she was my girlfriend’’
‘’But more importantly my wife after your parting, what you did, cost so much for every one. Your daughter is dead and buried along with yours and Marian’s friendship, so why the fuck would she want to contact you Joseph?!’’
Spasms of rage tore through Josephs mind embodying every cell in his body, willing him on. He withheld.
‘’ You’re a big boy, you can make your own way there, sector 12, block 16, tell the guard at the gate your name, he’ll let you through. You’re a scientist Mack, don’t rot yourself down here.
‘’She’s still my wife Joseph!’’ he raged ‘’still my wife’’
The shouts followed Joseph down the dingy corridor but were immediately phased by the slamming door.
Mack fell into the arm chair next to the counter, he looked around the room and his eyes immediately began to play over the glass in the corner. The directions had completely passed him by, he scrambled through his thoughts maliciously tearing towards the slightest trace…12:16 that was all he got, but enough, he switched gaze to the address directory which was just in reach.
3 days previous:
‘’Hello?’’
Joseph’s ear was pressed fast against the clammy ear piece
‘’Hello..eh, yes, I’m calling on behalf of Spargo corporation I won…’’
The woman was cut of by the glimmer of sarcastic exuberance that spurted from Josephs mouth.
‘’Well next time tell them to call up themselves’’
He was on the verge of putting the phone down when he herd her name.
‘’It’s about Dr. Marian, she wa…’’
The woman was immediately cut off by Josephs astonishment.
‘’Marian?’’
‘’Ye..yes, as I was saying she is very interested in meeting up with you, in her own words’’
The woman gave an abrupt cough and continued in a slightly higher pitched tone, still managing to sound as far away from Marian as possible.
‘’ I have reason to believe that you will be nearing New Liverpool in a few days time and was wondering weather if possible you would be able to drop by, I do believe you know the way, there is much to discuss.’’
‘’ so if yo…’’
Joseph put the phone down.
‘’Thank you’’ he said in astonishment to the blank wall.
2 Days to the brink:
He had no idea how old they were or there names…he didn’t care. He just knew they were beautiful in there attire, the planets of the Andromina system stared back at him burning perfect silhouettes into his mind, lighting up the deepest darkest stygian corners of it. Un-naturally close, or in this case completely natural, for 4 billion years the Andromina system had been in blue shift, 4 billion years it had stood defiant to others of its kind. In that time Mars, Uranus and Jupiter had all been colonised, the early colonials were completely unprepared for Mars, as soon as they stepped off the ship the half gravity had taken hold, until eventually they found some of there fellows with there collar bones through there wind pipes, oxygen however had proved to be less of a problem, scientists had discovered a huge store of oxygen near the planets core, the air was kept fresh by means of natural convection current generated by the immense heat of the core, the legends say that the newly formed Spargo corp, which at that time was the space military, had smashed its way to the core by firing I giant copper rod into the crust. Of course no one on mars would ever know, well no of the common folk any way since the federal archives were on earth and inter stellar tickets were un-buyable by the slum folk, which was, well, everyone. Surprisingly it wasn’t the distance that determined which planets could and could not be colonised it was the elliptical alignment. Uncorrupted by Spargo as he was…Jacobe knew there was no way out of this now. Human kind had driven itself too far…this far. They had brought themselves to their knees, their garrotted sense of perpetuating self liberty eased their minds just enough for them to believe that all of man kinds impetuous beliefs of self rivalling pity were enough to shield them all from this, they managed to blind themselves with the tools that were meant to make things clearer. They had shrouded it all with a pearlescent, omnipresent force with whom they had made a false deal on the foundries of the unexplainable.
It is fear.
These arid, baked lands on which Jacobe now moulded the contours of the beliefs of a thousand into a poetic contract of unconventional inconvenience.
He for only a moment decided to contemplate the dirt, passing his gaze over humanities metaphorical state. Immediately drawn to the distance to his left, muffled screams restrained by pain echoed silently through the night. He cast foot to floor to arrive at the co existing contrasts of extinguishing pain and beauty. The body of the young woman thrown backwards, breaking the path of the flying bullet, the two elements collapsing into each other.
Jacobe turned on the gun man, his blood chasing through his veins, reaching his head and clouding his eyes in malice and distorted one way justice. His poetry now escaped him along with all sympathy and morality. He reached the man in under a second collapsing his eye socket with a jab from his elbow, screams of silent agony echoed through the minds of the passing people and from the beasts mouth. The passing swarmed round like flies taking it to another life with there minds of choked worries and sorrows as jacobe stood up to face his justice.
3 months 2 days to the brink:
Joseph had always wondered weather or not he would ever meat someone so incredible that it was impossible for them to exist but at the same time impossible for them not to, his quire was answered when he met Marian; tall and slim, she was a figure moulded by pure, petrifying perfection. Her bright blue eyes set chasms of deep cyan oceans across the plain of life itself, dedicating entire worlds of bliss to the sound of her voice. He saw other things; Eleanor’s face as she was lowered down into the grave, he was on the run that day, but no amount of running would stop him seeing this, even from afar he had felt the cold that issued from the mourners reproachful anxiety, they knew her, they didn’t know her. He was reminded of them every day, especially now on his dreary road to nowhere. The tears congealed with the rain as he continued to walk through the bustling highway of ghosts, the quietly loud street filled with the talks of their normal lives. What is normal in any case? When you walk down the street and you here them talking about their child pornography, drugs and all the other things that disguise their fucked up little lies can you honestly, truly say that you feel normal? Why is it that so many of us are out there, fit, healthy and without the various disorders that disguise society with a carpet of kindness and pity. So many, they, their lovers, friends, sons and daughters, so wrapped up in their incoherent, indistinguishable little lives to do any thing about the real problem, themselves! The ‘’one more drink’’ generation; their only thing to do? Wait for deaths forgiving forefinger to push the silicon circle of metallic annoyance, waving promises of salvation, redemption and liberty; all you have to do is pray like hell on your death bed.
You should write a book with only pictures, I "read" one during library today, Wheres waldo is very interesting.
Anyway good story
[QUOTE=chucknorrisme;21577227]You should write a book with only pictures, I "read" one during library today, Wheres waldo is very interesting.
Anyway good story[/QUOTE]
thanks man
Sorry, you need to Log In to post a reply to this thread.
