The following is a story I had to write for my Fiction Writing class. A condensed plot was provided, and we simply had to expand it. So...here it is (and excuse the numbered headings from every page, it was just a pain to try and get rid of them):
Hooked
The glow of the setting sun caught the rusty dashboard of the old Ford Tempo and illuminated the otherwise-humdrum hue of this ancient relic. The bronzy-orange finish was peeling in multiple areas, but you could hardly tell due to the fact that the unveiling of the rust underneath was almost the same color anyway. The entire landscape seemed to have a color theme of oranges, yellows, and browns. The orange of the setting sun complimented the browns and yellows of the vast expanses of wheat fields for miles in every direction. The wheat was tossed about delicately by a light wind that had been steadily dying down from the mid afternoon.
It was evening now. The Ford was parked on the side of a winding country road that wrapped around the countryside and nothing but, for miles in every direction. It was as remote a spot as any two love birds could hope for in small town smack dab in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas.
Nowhere, Kansas was all Harry and Ellen needed. They’d been dating for two years now. This romantic escape was celebrating this two-year milestone. It was a storybook romance. Both had grown up in this small town, gone to the same school, same high school, and they were even both attending the same university. The proposal was only a matter of time. In
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fact, Ellen’s mind began to drift off on the soft music of the crackly radio as she daydreamed of wedded bliss with her childhood sweetheart.
“Harry,” she whispered, eyes closed, face nuzzled up against his chest, “let’s not ever move. Let’s just sit here and fall asleep in this moment, so it never has to end. Let the music carry us away…”
Harry smirked at her girlish sentimentality. “Well Ellie,” he said in the most matter-of-fact tone he could muster, “at some point, this old junk heap is going to give out on us and then there won’t be any more music to float on, you know.”
His playful sarcasm brought her abruptly back to reality as she tried to stifle a smile. “Oh, come on now,” she said trying to sound annoyed. “That’s not funny.”
The sun had almost set beneath the field now, as the color in the sky slowly diminished into a darker blue. Harry and Ellie decided to lay words aside and took Ellie’s advice, as they began to drift off to the sound of the radio.
The romantic moment was short-lived, however. The music suddenly came to an abrupt stop. The crackling that replaced it brought Harry and Ellie back to reality once more as they curiously sat up and reached for the radio dial.
Harry refrained from switching stations, however, when a man with a very serious tone came on the air with the words, “This is not a test.” Looking at Ellie curiously, he resorted to turning the volume dial instead. The voice continued, “I repeat, this is not a test. All citizens of Teller County and surrounding areas are asked to return to their homes immediately. Word was
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just been received that a convicted murderer has escaped from Teller Country Prison and his whereabouts are currently unknown to authorities. He is at large in the area and is very dangerous. He is approximately 5’ 11”, dark brown hair, approximately 175 pounds, and has hooks in place of hands.”
Harry almost had to chuckle at this last bit of information. “Are they serious?” he asked.
Almost in response, the voice continued, “I repeat, this is not a test. Please take this information with the utmost seriousness and get to safety as soon as possible.”
“Baby, I think he’s serious,” said Ellie shakily. “Come on, we better leave.”
“Ellie, come on, are you kidding me? A murderer with hooks for hands?”
“Harry! I want to leave!” Exasperated, Ellie violently switched off the radio and reached for her seatbelt. “If you don’t start this heap of metal Harry, I will.”
Harry was obviously annoyed at her sense of urgency, not to mention the loss of the romantic mood. “This is the best part of the evening, baby. Come on, we can’t leave now. The night’s just begun.”
Ellie refused to respond with more than a heated death glare that scared Harry more than any hook-handed murderer.
“Ok, fine, you win,” he retorted, obviously perturbed. “I cannot believe you’re letting this scare you. This was going to be our special night, nothing was going to bother us, remember?”
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“I think a convicted murderer on the loose is cause for an exception, Harry!” It was never a good sign when they started using each other’s names in every sentence. Doing his best to appear incredibly put out, he dramatically reached for the keys and turned them in the ignition.
The car noisily sputtered into gear, making Ellie glance around suspiciously. Wanting to accentuate his exasperation, Harry slammed his foot down on the accelerator as the wheels spun amid the dirt and gravel, trying hard to get a firm grip on the road. Once the old Ford accomplished this feat, Harry sped down the winding dirt road back towards whatever civilization waited for them back in town.
It was not, however, fast enough for Ellie. She couldn’t help darting glances here and there every time she heard a leaf rustle, or a rock roll.
As the lights of the town came into view, Harry decided to break the silence at an attempt of reconciliation. “Come on now Ellie, I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
Ellie’s mixture of morbid fear and annoyance at Harry’s lack of concern resulted in indignant silence. Harry sighed and turned the radio on again, weighing down on the breaks as they entered the sleepy little town. The gas station was the first sign of life coming in from the countryside. Glancing over the shadows of the rusty old general store attached to the station, Ellie’s heart suddenly stopped. A gasp escaped her lips as she clutched Harry’s arm with enough solidity to cut off his blood circulation.
“What is it now?” demanded Harry, not pleased with the swerving her clamp had caused.
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Ellie said nothing as she climbed over him to look out his side of the window. Not uttering a word, her eyes unwavering, she unlocked his car door and slowly climbed out, still not breaking her line of sight.
“Ellie, what are you doing?” asked Harry, more sternly this time. “Come on, get back in the car. What do you see?”
A few feet from the vehicle, Ellie froze in her tracks, her gaze deepening as she strained her eyes to see in the dark.
Slightly unsettled, Harry climbed out of the car and gently touched Ellie on the arm, sending her reeling around with a shriek.
“Harry, don’t!” she yelled.
“Well come on, what are you looking at? Just get back in the car.”
Not getting anything from her, Harry attempted to follow her line of sight. Following hers, his gaze landed among some shadows between the farthest two gas pumps on the northern side of the building.
From behind the first pump, he immediately became aware of Ellie’s apprehension. Barely visible from behind the apparatus, he made out the form of a curved, metal piece jutting out from the shadows.
Letting the silence linger a few moments longer, Harry let out an obviously stifled laugh as he slapped Ellie on the back. “Ummm, darling,” he said lovingly, between chuckles, “that’s
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the gas pump. Now, I know you’re paranoid, but there really is nothing to worry about. So, let’s get back in the car and get you back to your apartment.”
Still laughing, he walked over to her side of the car, opened the door, and helped her in. Sauntering back to his side, he couldn’t help laughing to himself over the whole ordeal. Now, off to her apartment it was.
The old Ford slowly screeched to a halt as Harry pulled in front of Ellie’s off-campus apartment building, just down the road from the small town junior college that they both attended.
As Ellie reached for the lock button on the car door, she gazed out the window to her front door. The gap between her and home seemed an eternity longer than any of the other million times Harry had brought her home, just the same way. She hesitantly reached for the car door and set her feet on the cool pavement.
“Walk me to the door, Harry?” she pleaded, almost pathetically. Harry had never seen her this way. Still rather amused by the whole ordeal, he hurried over to Ellie and offered her his arm.
“Now, I’ll get you inside all safe and sound, and tomorrow you’ll be laughing about this just like I am.”
Ellie didn’t respond as they made their way up the sidewalk to the front door. Harry, deciding to maintain that gentlemanly façade, reached for the door doorknob to open the door for her.
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As his hand touched the cold metal, the amused smirk on his face immediately froze in one of utter horror. The doorknob wasn’t round. The doorknob wasn’t a doorknob at all. As the moon momentarily moved in front of the menacing clouds overhead, the brief gush of light illuminated a shiny, thin, metal hook.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Light Bulbs
As I lay with my back to the floor, attempting to digress into the inner recesses of the minute minds of fairies (yes, psycho-analyzing fairies is how I like to spend Sunday afternoons), I couldn’t help but notice that the light fixture hanging directly above my head had three different wattages of bulbs. Occupying the three slots with which to screw the light bulbs in were a 100 watt, a 60 watt, and a 40 watt. I found it rather fascinating that this structure could still function with such contrasting forces contributing to it. It wasn’t ideal, but it could still operate.
Hmmmm. Strange.
Or maybe not so strange? The things I choose to exert my brain energy on, I swear…
Yes, there is a metaphor coming. A rather weak one, but this is what it made me think of:
I am the light fixture! Friends are the bulbs of different wattage. It seems to me that there are friends of mine that contribute in many different ways to my operating properly (if you can even say that I do so). Yes, there are weaker ones, and there are stronger ones. I have 100 watt friends that have and will continue to be my supportive constants for as long as I live. Or so it seems now. Then I have the seemingly 100-watters than turn out to be 60s or 40s. They still contribute, but on a more superficial level. They offer entertainment and escapes from the stress that life can pile on, but when the real meat and potatoes of life reign down and you need a shoulder to lean on, the 60s and 40s aren’t as readily available.
However, this kind of escape is necessary sometimes. You do need silly distractions every once and a while, just to keep you sane.
The real gems are the ones who offer all of this. Very rare indeed.
Now, of course my rather flimsy little metaphor falls short when you apply the fact that a light fixture with all 100 watt bulbs are very rare to come by, because in all reality it’s not that rare to see a light fixture with all the same wattages of bulbs (however, maybe it is rare to find all 100s!)
Anyway, I’ll be done with that. I was just thinking about the supports I have in my life. I have many incredibly wonderful ones. I am blessed. Even one 100 watter would be enough to sustain me, I think. And for the longest time I thought I didn’t even need that. I thought I could handle everything on my own. But the weight of having to operate a light fixture with no bulbs is rather difficult.
Ok, done now, I promise. I realized I am a very odd combination of things. I don’t think I could define myself even if I tried. I’ve always been a free spirit-type, but I’ve always been a behind-the-scenes sort, also. I’ve always been fascinated by things like forests, fairies, exploring, trees, stars, maps, people, nature, movies, and the list goes on. I am a hopeless romantic. I want to do SO many things I couldn’t even begin to write them all down. But what do I do? How can I balance all the things that I have a burning in my heart to do? I feel like I have so much passion for so many things in life, I don’t know how I could possibly do it all without burning myself out by the time I’m 30.
However, the thought of burning myself out that way sounds pretty amazing. I want to do everything! But can I? I really don’t know. I really have no idea what God has in store for me. I feel like he’s placed so much fire in my heart that I have no idea what he’s going to do with all of it. I guess that’s part of the fun…finding out. But sometimes it seems anything but fun. Sometimes I think, "God, why did you put this passion in me if you’re not going to do anything with it?" Why would you make me part with something that seems so much a part of me? I guess I can’t call any shots yet.
My mom was saying over the weekend that we can’t strive to be better people. At first this made no sense to me. Aren’t we supposed to strive to me more Christ-like? And wouldn’t that mean striving to be a better person? She went on to say that we cannot strive to be better people, but only seek God in everything. There’s nothing we can do to make ourselves better people. Ultimately all we can do is try and follow Christ and the path we feel He’s leading us down. However, this doesn’t mean we do nothing and expect God to physically move us in the right direction. We do have to be seeking. I’m still not quite sure I understand how this doesn’t involve striving to better ourselves by seeking Christ. Any insight, anyone?
Anyway, I suppose what I’m trying to tell myself is that in the midst of confusion as to the path God is leading me down, I should I try and understand it or just follow? I think, in my case, I need to lean more towards just following. It’s so hard sometimes, though. I hate being confused because a) it means I can’t figure something out and b) it means that I’m not trusting it to God, because I’m trying to figure it out. And when everything around me seems to be screaming one thing, and then God turns around and seems to tell me something completely different, that’s when I get confused.
I keep coming back to the same thing: seek God in His Word and praying for wisdom and guidance. *sigh*. And seek support and counsel and from my 100-watters;).
*disclaimer:
I think maybe one of the reasons for my liking so many different things, is God making it easy for me to be content. I know I want a family, but there are still so many things I can do within that. Some things I struggle to see how I can still have, but maybe I'm not supposed to. We'll see.
Hmmmm. Strange.
Or maybe not so strange? The things I choose to exert my brain energy on, I swear…
Yes, there is a metaphor coming. A rather weak one, but this is what it made me think of:
I am the light fixture! Friends are the bulbs of different wattage. It seems to me that there are friends of mine that contribute in many different ways to my operating properly (if you can even say that I do so). Yes, there are weaker ones, and there are stronger ones. I have 100 watt friends that have and will continue to be my supportive constants for as long as I live. Or so it seems now. Then I have the seemingly 100-watters than turn out to be 60s or 40s. They still contribute, but on a more superficial level. They offer entertainment and escapes from the stress that life can pile on, but when the real meat and potatoes of life reign down and you need a shoulder to lean on, the 60s and 40s aren’t as readily available.
However, this kind of escape is necessary sometimes. You do need silly distractions every once and a while, just to keep you sane.
The real gems are the ones who offer all of this. Very rare indeed.
Now, of course my rather flimsy little metaphor falls short when you apply the fact that a light fixture with all 100 watt bulbs are very rare to come by, because in all reality it’s not that rare to see a light fixture with all the same wattages of bulbs (however, maybe it is rare to find all 100s!)
Anyway, I’ll be done with that. I was just thinking about the supports I have in my life. I have many incredibly wonderful ones. I am blessed. Even one 100 watter would be enough to sustain me, I think. And for the longest time I thought I didn’t even need that. I thought I could handle everything on my own. But the weight of having to operate a light fixture with no bulbs is rather difficult.
Ok, done now, I promise. I realized I am a very odd combination of things. I don’t think I could define myself even if I tried. I’ve always been a free spirit-type, but I’ve always been a behind-the-scenes sort, also. I’ve always been fascinated by things like forests, fairies, exploring, trees, stars, maps, people, nature, movies, and the list goes on. I am a hopeless romantic. I want to do SO many things I couldn’t even begin to write them all down. But what do I do? How can I balance all the things that I have a burning in my heart to do? I feel like I have so much passion for so many things in life, I don’t know how I could possibly do it all without burning myself out by the time I’m 30.
However, the thought of burning myself out that way sounds pretty amazing. I want to do everything! But can I? I really don’t know. I really have no idea what God has in store for me. I feel like he’s placed so much fire in my heart that I have no idea what he’s going to do with all of it. I guess that’s part of the fun…finding out. But sometimes it seems anything but fun. Sometimes I think, "God, why did you put this passion in me if you’re not going to do anything with it?" Why would you make me part with something that seems so much a part of me? I guess I can’t call any shots yet.
My mom was saying over the weekend that we can’t strive to be better people. At first this made no sense to me. Aren’t we supposed to strive to me more Christ-like? And wouldn’t that mean striving to be a better person? She went on to say that we cannot strive to be better people, but only seek God in everything. There’s nothing we can do to make ourselves better people. Ultimately all we can do is try and follow Christ and the path we feel He’s leading us down. However, this doesn’t mean we do nothing and expect God to physically move us in the right direction. We do have to be seeking. I’m still not quite sure I understand how this doesn’t involve striving to better ourselves by seeking Christ. Any insight, anyone?
Anyway, I suppose what I’m trying to tell myself is that in the midst of confusion as to the path God is leading me down, I should I try and understand it or just follow? I think, in my case, I need to lean more towards just following. It’s so hard sometimes, though. I hate being confused because a) it means I can’t figure something out and b) it means that I’m not trusting it to God, because I’m trying to figure it out. And when everything around me seems to be screaming one thing, and then God turns around and seems to tell me something completely different, that’s when I get confused.
I keep coming back to the same thing: seek God in His Word and praying for wisdom and guidance. *sigh*. And seek support and counsel and from my 100-watters;).
*disclaimer:
I think maybe one of the reasons for my liking so many different things, is God making it easy for me to be content. I know I want a family, but there are still so many things I can do within that. Some things I struggle to see how I can still have, but maybe I'm not supposed to. We'll see.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Unwritten
Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten
I am unwritten, Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten, yeah
Oh, oh
I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inner visions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
(Gospel)
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inner visions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
I am unwritten, Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten, yeah
Oh, oh
I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inner visions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
(Gospel)
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inner visions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Anti-Rant Rant
Ok, I think I've established that my visibility test was successful. Thank you to all who confirmed it:).
So...I was talking to a friend today and she said that one of the reasons she got rid of her blog was because she was prone to write more than she may have intended on it. My response was that I was...am, the opposite. I never write anything terribly personal on blogs, or even in my journal. On the surface level, I tell myself it's because I don't want to risk people finding it and reading something I hadn't intended for anyone else.
However, I also realized that a large part of it is because, for me, writing something down has the same effect of saying it out loud: you have to admit it to yourself. And a lot of the things that I refuse to write out anywhere are just that: things that I don't want to admit to myself. So, maybe it would be good for me to write out more than I do. Not that I'm going to bear my soul, but it might help me somewhat to write some things on here, or maybe just in my journal even. It's a good start. I've never been much good at "bearing my soul", as I said. I'm just used to not telling people things. Not because I don't trust them, but because I never really did before college. And now I'm so overwhelmed by these amazing people God has placed in my life since I've been here, all more than willing to listen to me if I need to talk about anything, and I find that I almost don't know how!
So...there's my rant about not ranting. God is good. I don't think I tell him that enough, or remind myself of it enough. But He truly is. I just don't understand Him sometimes, that's all.
Phillipians 1:3 "I thank my God every time I remember you."
So...I was talking to a friend today and she said that one of the reasons she got rid of her blog was because she was prone to write more than she may have intended on it. My response was that I was...am, the opposite. I never write anything terribly personal on blogs, or even in my journal. On the surface level, I tell myself it's because I don't want to risk people finding it and reading something I hadn't intended for anyone else.
However, I also realized that a large part of it is because, for me, writing something down has the same effect of saying it out loud: you have to admit it to yourself. And a lot of the things that I refuse to write out anywhere are just that: things that I don't want to admit to myself. So, maybe it would be good for me to write out more than I do. Not that I'm going to bear my soul, but it might help me somewhat to write some things on here, or maybe just in my journal even. It's a good start. I've never been much good at "bearing my soul", as I said. I'm just used to not telling people things. Not because I don't trust them, but because I never really did before college. And now I'm so overwhelmed by these amazing people God has placed in my life since I've been here, all more than willing to listen to me if I need to talk about anything, and I find that I almost don't know how!
So...there's my rant about not ranting. God is good. I don't think I tell him that enough, or remind myself of it enough. But He truly is. I just don't understand Him sometimes, that's all.
Phillipians 1:3 "I thank my God every time I remember you."
Monday, September 17, 2007
Visibility Assesment!
This is a test. I am testing the visibility of my first post. If you can read this, my test was successful. If you cannot read this, inform me immediatley...:)
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