So, it's all over. My second story within this format, and it is hard to judge the success or failure of it. In one way, I could say it is more of a success than Postcards In Winter simply due to the fact that I had more actual followers registered, and have had slightly more feedback along the way. But it is difficult to gauge. I believe in this format. I have enjoyed my two forays into it. But is it worth it? If I enjoy it, and someone else out there does then yes, it is. Even if I am the only one who enjoys it, that is enough. It is an outlet, this is all I need. As an aspiring author with what may prove to be just pipe dreams of being published, the chance to at least get some of my words and ideas out there is more than enough to satisfy my artistic and creative dreams. For now at least.
Will I do it again?
Of course I will.
Tuesday 10 February 2009
Saturday 7 February 2009
The Refreshing, Final Post...
15.
One minute now.
Just enough time to bury these papers and get on my back.
Many have their eyes closed, I will leave mine open.
I want to see that blue, blue sky once again.
The End.
One minute now.
Just enough time to bury these papers and get on my back.
Many have their eyes closed, I will leave mine open.
I want to see that blue, blue sky once again.
The End.
Friday 6 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 14...
14.
In ten minutes time the last of us die. Those who were still stood are gone, leaving only those who, like me, are laying on the ground, living to the very last second we are able to. From where I am I can’t see anyone else with a hole dug in front of them. I see hands clasped in prayer, I see crucifixes and rosary beads. I see smiling photographs, personal items. In front of me is a bundle of a few sheets of creased paper, with my words scrawled across them, and the hole they will be buried in, the only way I can even attempt to preserve this event for anyone who may one day come to have the means to read it. Under the ground might get refreshed in the same way as up here…I for one will never know. At least I will go with the hope that this can be partly explained, even if no one here ever came to understand.
In ten minutes time the last of us die. Those who were still stood are gone, leaving only those who, like me, are laying on the ground, living to the very last second we are able to. From where I am I can’t see anyone else with a hole dug in front of them. I see hands clasped in prayer, I see crucifixes and rosary beads. I see smiling photographs, personal items. In front of me is a bundle of a few sheets of creased paper, with my words scrawled across them, and the hole they will be buried in, the only way I can even attempt to preserve this event for anyone who may one day come to have the means to read it. Under the ground might get refreshed in the same way as up here…I for one will never know. At least I will go with the hope that this can be partly explained, even if no one here ever came to understand.
Thursday 5 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 13...
13.
I don’t know why I opted to make this record of our last few days, but I know it felt right to have done so as I watched my apartment being swallowed by the cloud. I suppose it is my way of accepting it, dealing with the initially uncertain, eventually inevitable outcome without giving into hysteria and breaking down completely. Truthfully speaking, I’m terrified, but I refuse to let my fear ruin the last minutes of my life, or detract from my memories of everything that has happened in my life up until now.
But it is beautiful.
Since the cloud appeared, I have looked at it and thought about how breathtaking it is. Even when I knew what was up above it, and what was happening, it was still beautiful. Perhaps more so; it seemed so much more peaceful. How can something that seems so pure and, well, refreshing be all that bad?
The fires from the riots are all out now, extinguished by the cloud, and soon the people who are still fighting will be refreshed too, which I can only see as positive.
What do I do with this document? Having thought about writing it, I have no idea where to go from here. If I keep it with me will it be refreshed as I will be?
I don’t know why I opted to make this record of our last few days, but I know it felt right to have done so as I watched my apartment being swallowed by the cloud. I suppose it is my way of accepting it, dealing with the initially uncertain, eventually inevitable outcome without giving into hysteria and breaking down completely. Truthfully speaking, I’m terrified, but I refuse to let my fear ruin the last minutes of my life, or detract from my memories of everything that has happened in my life up until now.
But it is beautiful.
Since the cloud appeared, I have looked at it and thought about how breathtaking it is. Even when I knew what was up above it, and what was happening, it was still beautiful. Perhaps more so; it seemed so much more peaceful. How can something that seems so pure and, well, refreshing be all that bad?
The fires from the riots are all out now, extinguished by the cloud, and soon the people who are still fighting will be refreshed too, which I can only see as positive.
What do I do with this document? Having thought about writing it, I have no idea where to go from here. If I keep it with me will it be refreshed as I will be?
Wednesday 4 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 12...
12.
It is now five thirty. I am still sat on the bench on the grassy section of the park across the street from where I live, only it is now where I used to live. My apartment and whole floor disappeared about an hour and a half ago. Kimberly’s apartment and whole floor went about half an hour after that. I wondered if she had been in there when it happened, and couldn’t help but ponder whether she had turned into a jaguar or not.
It is now five thirty. I am still sat on the bench on the grassy section of the park across the street from where I live, only it is now where I used to live. My apartment and whole floor disappeared about an hour and a half ago. Kimberly’s apartment and whole floor went about half an hour after that. I wondered if she had been in there when it happened, and couldn’t help but ponder whether she had turned into a jaguar or not.
Tuesday 3 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 11...
11.
It was just before I left my apartment that they announced the cloud’s pattern of descent had changed. It had dropped the first of the two times they said it would, but was now slowly creeping lower, rather than dropping a long distance in an instant. By their calculation, unless it altered its pattern again, which they couldn’t discount, it would reach the ground in another seven hours, which meant I had until six in the evening.
It was just before I left my apartment that they announced the cloud’s pattern of descent had changed. It had dropped the first of the two times they said it would, but was now slowly creeping lower, rather than dropping a long distance in an instant. By their calculation, unless it altered its pattern again, which they couldn’t discount, it would reach the ground in another seven hours, which meant I had until six in the evening.
Monday 2 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 10...
10.
After waking this morning, having had an especially weird, startlingly vivid dream, I decided that I would get out of the building and try very hard to keep from bumping into Kimberly again. In the dream, we were in the middle of an…intimate moment, shall we say. I was laying back and enjoying it, while she was on top, with Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” playing in the background. Then, from out of nowhere, the cloud dropped, covering her completely (we hadn’t realised, as we both had our eyes closed). Three seconds later, I opened my eyes because she had stopped, still on me, and was confronted by the cloud right in front of my face. Before I could register what I was seeing, the head of a wild cat (my knowledge of wild cats that aren’t lions and tigers is fairly basic, but I think it was a jaguar) burst out of the cloud and started to eat me, just as Olivia Newton John got to the “Let’s get animal” part. I knew if we got it together again I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with that image undoubtedly popping up in my head, and it would have been something of a mood dampener.
After waking this morning, having had an especially weird, startlingly vivid dream, I decided that I would get out of the building and try very hard to keep from bumping into Kimberly again. In the dream, we were in the middle of an…intimate moment, shall we say. I was laying back and enjoying it, while she was on top, with Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” playing in the background. Then, from out of nowhere, the cloud dropped, covering her completely (we hadn’t realised, as we both had our eyes closed). Three seconds later, I opened my eyes because she had stopped, still on me, and was confronted by the cloud right in front of my face. Before I could register what I was seeing, the head of a wild cat (my knowledge of wild cats that aren’t lions and tigers is fairly basic, but I think it was a jaguar) burst out of the cloud and started to eat me, just as Olivia Newton John got to the “Let’s get animal” part. I knew if we got it together again I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with that image undoubtedly popping up in my head, and it would have been something of a mood dampener.
Sunday 1 February 2009
The Refreshing, Post 9...
9.
The riots started at precisely that moment. The looting, fighting and unrest are still going on as I sit on the bench on the grassy section of the park across the street from where I live, looking at the cloud, right in the middle of where the fourth floor of my building used to be.
The riots started at precisely that moment. The looting, fighting and unrest are still going on as I sit on the bench on the grassy section of the park across the street from where I live, looking at the cloud, right in the middle of where the fourth floor of my building used to be.
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