Monday, March 28, 2011

Bit :)

Troy stood revealing the irony of his own name.  His world was crashing down around him, literally.  One of the oak beams that had been so painstakingly chosen ripped from its place in the ceiling, crushing its way to the floor below.  If it came to rest there Troy did not know, nor did he care.  Much like the famous city, the man was destroyed by a woman.  For what else could so thoroughly destroy a man?  Most men would have fled the crumbling structure, or at least made an attempt, perhaps flung himself out the window in a vain attempt to make a quick end of it.  Not Troy.  He calmly lit a cigarette, sat himself down in his handmade leather wingback and turning his eyes toward the window, watched as his kingdom came crashing down.  His lips formed a twisted smile, whispering the name that had ruined him.  Crimson.                Crimson Jackson. 

Bits

Since I have a lot of pieces of stories, songs, and poems I decided that I would just give them one general title, Bits.  That saves me from picking random titles.  So if you see something titled a Bit, you know it's a slice of something fun.  Hope you enjoy!! :)

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Opener

Here is an opening for a story that I am working on for one of my classes.  Thought I would throw it out there and see what you all thought.  Thanks in advance!


             There is a death occurring inside of me.  I’m not surprised.  I choose this.  I can look back and see each decision, each choice a stone, plucked up and carried, until the path that they cobbled out lead to this conclusion.  I don’t regret the decision.  I don’t have time for that.  Once made, the decision was final; I had no intention of turning back, even if that had been an option.  Too much is at stake.  That thought makes me want to laugh, and if I could open my mouth without screaming I probably would.  The irony of the situation is not lost on me.  The light is fading from the window again, I watch the sun make its singular magnificent decent.  The darkness surges forward from the empty corners of the room, running like ink across the floor.  The stain splashes across my bed, and begins its assault upon my person.  I take a deep breath and succumb to the process.  I know that on the other side of pain, is life. But first you have to die.