Monday, September 27, 2010

Fiction Writing 1

I had to drop Fiction Writing 1 but I had written something in class before I did.  If anyone from class wants to tell me of more projects, I'll do them too.


A hand is reaching toward me.  Each time they drink my blood.  All it takes is a twist off the top.  Who would think it’d be so easy and convenient?

My blood may be carbonated, dark brown and delicious but maybe yours is too.  Mosquitoes, bears and tigers probably feel as if they’re simply enjoying a Coke as they feed upon your fluids, and sometimes, bone.


I feel a drain coming on.  There’s light headedness about me, or light bottle-capedness perhaps depending how you view things.  It’s like that feeling you get when you’re low on blood sugar or in my case syrup.


I can’t move.  Not that I could before but my bubbles danced about on their reflective plastic stage.  I was more alive with carbonation than most could say without.


The end of all things.  It’s time to be recycled toward another life.  Or rejoin nature in the landfill.

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You've found your way inside my head and now there's no way out!