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JohnEmmett
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Who here writes/is a writer?
- Thread starter Artyczar
- Start date
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JohnEmmett
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JohnEmmett
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J
JohnEmmett
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J
JohnEmmett
in fact, the 3rd Age is coming…
the Ages will ascend…
(meaning improvement)
the Ages will ascend…
(meaning improvement)
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JohnEmmett
the precious topic?
J
JohnEmmett
J
JohnEmmett
I should leave this forum
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JohnEmmett
Iain
2 eyes.
- Messages
- 2,847
Years ago I was at a party in a recording studio in Southall. The promoters were a couple of cool dudes with very long hair, good people, in fact, if i had hung around with them, some of it might have rubbed off. Anyhow, I was there and this fellow tried to engage me in coversation over the VERY LOUD MUSIC. "What do you do for a living?" He said. I wasn't going to tell him the mundane truth, so I said, "I'm a..." But i was so out of it I suddenly found i had lost the ability to speak coherently. "Am a..a...Wyler," I said.
"A what?" he said. The harder I tried to annunciate the word, the worse my prounciation became. "Woylur. I'm a...rwoylur."
So here is a bit of dialogue from my days as a wroyler, from only published short story (20 year ago).
"Why are you doing that?" She asked.
"I feel like it," I told her. "Now I'm going to have to get it out for you. Shall I get it out?" I asked her.
"Yes, get it out," She whispered. "Please get it out."
I slid my hand down the back of her pants and kept it there.
"Have you got it yet?" She asked. "Please hurry," She said. "Somebody will see."
"I'm trying," I told her. "But it's hard."
Again, hardly enough to base a career on. I should have learned to play the kazoo.
"A what?" he said. The harder I tried to annunciate the word, the worse my prounciation became. "Woylur. I'm a...rwoylur."
So here is a bit of dialogue from my days as a wroyler, from only published short story (20 year ago).
"Why are you doing that?" She asked.
"I feel like it," I told her. "Now I'm going to have to get it out for you. Shall I get it out?" I asked her.
"Yes, get it out," She whispered. "Please get it out."
I slid my hand down the back of her pants and kept it there.
"Have you got it yet?" She asked. "Please hurry," She said. "Somebody will see."
"I'm trying," I told her. "But it's hard."
Again, hardly enough to base a career on. I should have learned to play the kazoo.
Maybenartist
Well-known member
- Messages
- 553
I looked at him across the room as I brought him yet another black coffee. He was slumped over the arm of the sofa, unrecognisable as the person I had known. His hair was a mess and his flesh was pale with a tinge of yellow, he looked so much older now.
I thought back over years, to the time of a hot summers day and a train station. There were only a few people there, it was afternoon and as I lay on the floor my back resting against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me. I didn't have a care in the world. I had eaten nothing more than a small chocolate bar in the last four days, although I had drunk plenty of water.
I sat there thinking of the scenarios of boarding the train to Paddington, whether there would be a ticket collector, if there was, no matter how I played it out in my mind, there was no solution I could think of. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him approaching, a drink in one hand and a small brown paper bag in the other. He was walking toward where I was and I was curious as to where he was going, I didn't think for long because within a blink of an eye he sat next to me on the floor, in almost the same position I had been sitting in for the last thirty minutes. He looked across and smiled "alright". "Uh uh" I grunted in reply.
He then unwrapped the bag he was holding reached over and offered me half of the sandwich the bag contained "thanks". I ate and as I bit into the bread I rolled the flavour of the cheese over my tongue and I think it was one of the best tastes of my life. He then passed the styrofoam cup with several mouthfuls of coffee, which I drank.
In all this time only a few words had been spoken. He asked me what I was doing and I told him I was getting on the next train to paddington. "You got a ticket?", he asked. Looking at him directly for the first time, I uttered the words "Nope, have you? He smiled, that smile I would come to see so many times "Nope" he said, "Let's go". I guess looking back, neither of us knew where that chance meeting, that unguarded friendship and that train ride, would take us, no one could have known.
I thought back over years, to the time of a hot summers day and a train station. There were only a few people there, it was afternoon and as I lay on the floor my back resting against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me. I didn't have a care in the world. I had eaten nothing more than a small chocolate bar in the last four days, although I had drunk plenty of water.
I sat there thinking of the scenarios of boarding the train to Paddington, whether there would be a ticket collector, if there was, no matter how I played it out in my mind, there was no solution I could think of. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him approaching, a drink in one hand and a small brown paper bag in the other. He was walking toward where I was and I was curious as to where he was going, I didn't think for long because within a blink of an eye he sat next to me on the floor, in almost the same position I had been sitting in for the last thirty minutes. He looked across and smiled "alright". "Uh uh" I grunted in reply.
He then unwrapped the bag he was holding reached over and offered me half of the sandwich the bag contained "thanks". I ate and as I bit into the bread I rolled the flavour of the cheese over my tongue and I think it was one of the best tastes of my life. He then passed the styrofoam cup with several mouthfuls of coffee, which I drank.
In all this time only a few words had been spoken. He asked me what I was doing and I told him I was getting on the next train to paddington. "You got a ticket?", he asked. Looking at him directly for the first time, I uttered the words "Nope, have you? He smiled, that smile I would come to see so many times "Nope" he said, "Let's go". I guess looking back, neither of us knew where that chance meeting, that unguarded friendship and that train ride, would take us, no one could have known.
J
JohnEmmett
Bent ancient fingers
withered ivory artist
finds silk innocence
…
withered ivory artist
finds silk innocence
…
