Thursday, January 29, 2009

I think I might start doing one-word titles. They're less encumbering to the reading eye [and I am just tired of sounding as long-winded as I am].
Anyway, today I am going to cover the same lame trend of using a photograph that I took a while ago and posting up my writing experiment for the day. Because I will have no time later - no matter how much I would wish it.

The matte sheet of sky is cut in half by deep blue. Below the windless centerline, I float in a sea with no fish and no life. My paddles upset the strict tranquility here.
I look around to get my bearings – there is no land and no boat sails past. My hair sticks up strangely, but the water feels like tap water, dyed to match the deep blue pill that I had swallowed so quickly. My head still rolls from the medication.
I had hoped that Lilya would have given me some sort of message, but it seems she stuck me in transit, waiting for the next move. I still did not know the man who had assaulted me, but in this surreal world I at least got the use of my hand back. That night was a distant image now, even so soon after – my mind wanted to lock it away.
I hear a soft whisper and struggle to buoy myself up in the water. It is a male voice, but it seems awfully familiar. I look around and see… no one.
Leah. I am not gone.
“Charlie?” I call out, puzzled, “Charlie!”
There is a whisper of something like wind through my ear; I can feel its bold touch tapping into my brain. A moment later I recognize it as unpleasant.
Leah, don’t worry about the man. Worry about Jack and Lilya. They need you right now…
“Why weren’t you there that night? I called out to you but—“
It’s not important right now. Just… please, try to remember everything you can about last night. Everything happens for a reason – remember it.
The voice is distinctly Charlie’s now, upset but always trying to be mysterious. We haven’t seen him in a year and yet he is still the same old Charlie that we knew. My gut jerks backward behind my navel and I opened my mouth.
From the cavity, I feel something burst up. Again unpleasant, but not painful, I extract a small thin vial from between my teeth. I wiped off the saliva and looked down at it.
This will help you later.
The tense silence returns as I look down at the clear vial with what appeared to be plain tap water within it. After last year, I know not to question Charlie about it.
When I look up, the sky has been tinted pink, and the water less piercing blue. Light diffuses from beneath the surface, and each of the colors blend together into one large mass as the scene disappears and I am left in the darkness behind my own eyelids.

Check out some more posts featuring my photography.
More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.