EveryDayAmnesiac
Well-Known Member
Part 1 of an 800-word amateur, incomprehensible, and ultimately disappointing short story.
… a lone vulture circles concentrically closer, spirographing patiently and pitilessly above what little’s left of the curse-ridden frame of the most desperate, deprived and deserted dingo in all the exotic lands encompassed by the local tri-township area. the poor, pathetic thing. self-crumpled and curled-up. diseased and depressed. blanketed beneath fleas and flies. lost and disoriented. slight and feeble. and temptingly adjacent to hopeless. soaking in the practicing desert road's jagged heat and bloody sand. the little fugitive, not the liveliest of creatures. fundamental immobility only interrupted intermittently by the wagging of her warped tail. her ghost town gaze by only the absentminded shuffling of her spongy eyes. actions sorely attuned with the will of the passing vehicles. the covetous speed driving her sporadically remaining fur into excruciating encounters with the dust and the sand and the gravel. away from her keyboard ribs and chicken legs. away from the patches and stitches. the covetous speed, leaving her. sluggishly drying out. from the outside. in the aimless hope the vehicle might pass back. sooner or later. to run her self-loathed and self-mutilated figure over in the process. stop its existence. rid it of the agonizing, soul-crushing minutiae of residual bereavement. leave the two coupled. as though she a dead fetus. tracking and trailing. patiently and pitilessly. malignantly motivated. overdue. and attached by some unbreakable, unforgiving umbilical cord of unspeakable umbrage …
LIKE THIS POST IF YOU WANT PART 2.....
CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOMED...
-EDA
...For what it's worth, this is meant to be the intro to a television series. The "short story" would be revealed over an entire season.
… it’s a hard world for little things …
… a lone vulture circles concentrically closer, spirographing patiently and pitilessly above what little’s left of the curse-ridden frame of the most desperate, deprived and deserted dingo in all the exotic lands encompassed by the local tri-township area. the poor, pathetic thing. self-crumpled and curled-up. diseased and depressed. blanketed beneath fleas and flies. lost and disoriented. slight and feeble. and temptingly adjacent to hopeless. soaking in the practicing desert road's jagged heat and bloody sand. the little fugitive, not the liveliest of creatures. fundamental immobility only interrupted intermittently by the wagging of her warped tail. her ghost town gaze by only the absentminded shuffling of her spongy eyes. actions sorely attuned with the will of the passing vehicles. the covetous speed driving her sporadically remaining fur into excruciating encounters with the dust and the sand and the gravel. away from her keyboard ribs and chicken legs. away from the patches and stitches. the covetous speed, leaving her. sluggishly drying out. from the outside. in the aimless hope the vehicle might pass back. sooner or later. to run her self-loathed and self-mutilated figure over in the process. stop its existence. rid it of the agonizing, soul-crushing minutiae of residual bereavement. leave the two coupled. as though she a dead fetus. tracking and trailing. patiently and pitilessly. malignantly motivated. overdue. and attached by some unbreakable, unforgiving umbilical cord of unspeakable umbrage …
LIKE THIS POST IF YOU WANT PART 2.....
CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOMED...
-EDA
...For what it's worth, this is meant to be the intro to a television series. The "short story" would be revealed over an entire season.
Unless I'm missing the point of the book?
