Ashley
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2005
- Messages
- 1,000
Hi everyone.
This is an excerpt from something I started writing the other day. I have never actually sat down and written a fictional piece, though over the years I have made several unsuccessful and very brief attempts. Please tell me what you think of this, my style, etc. I know it isn't much but I just want to know if I'm working in the right direction. I hope you are all healthy and well.
"They all sat around, scattered about the living room. Like birds perched on the leather cushions of a leather couch. Each squawking also, not too dissimilar to birds also. Anyway, neither the fact that I wanted to be there, nor the fact that one of the vultures was of use to me, was persuading me to leave so I sat helplessly glued to my seat by some adhesive allergic to the desire for retreat. I asked Bronwyn, one of the middle aged frequent flyers, had everything been okay, of late? She responded with a nod and performed some quirky manouever with her eyes, and after taking a drag from her cigarette, returned her attention to whatever it was that she was focusing on prior to me throwing her a question. I had come over to Ralph's because Petey had said there would be a guy named Roger there who I would be most interested in conversing with. I trusted Petey with pleasant effort. He was not one to fuck around.
So, it all began before winter set in, late in what had been a very long year for many. The police had been out in force, riot squads storming local haunts, roughing people up. You know, the usual abuse of power type of scenario. Since an explosive device was discovered inside a truck that was parked outside of the Riverstone building in Cubenasi, where Fyo worked. Despite the bomb squad's best efforts, the device detonated at 11:11 AM on the 13th June 2044. One of the bomb experts supposedly suggested that the device was far too complex to disarm, and would take even weeks to just understand how it operated. I heard that transmission over shortwave radio. I got into the habit of always having a police scanner on, and unlike smoking I think it is a healthy habit. So the days were dreary, the weather matched the mood about the city. A lockdown was being enforced, so whilst staring out the window there were no families walking their dogs, no delivery trucks passing by. The place had become a ghost town, and something told me that there was more to this than a simple failed bomb defusal.
The bomb had killed 4 police employees, who were in the immediate area. 18 bystanders were severely wounded and 7 passed away once they got to hospital. As to why anybody would want to kill Fyo, I could give you a thousand answers. Fyo was a young, somewhat introverted, computer hacker and had pioneered some of the early successful experiments in the field of reality data manipulation. These days people were doing all kinds of things by changing the structure of a piece of data that existed physically in our reality. For example, an egg could become a chicken and then proceed to have a conversation with a random ear about how antiquated jet propulsion technology is. I yawned and scratched the stubble that had populated my face seemingly overnight. I took a look out the window, the suns had risen at 6:30 AM and were now sitting high in the sky, suggesting it was about midday. Despite the abundance of technology that I am surrounded by, and unfortunately have to use every now and then, I didn't own a time keeping device, such as a clock. A few years back I had a mechanical clock that chimed, you'd be lucky to find one in working condition these days. I think I sold it for some cash that was urgently required when I spent more of my income than I received, and I had to purchase - there was no way I could've gone through it again cold turkey. You develop a healthy fear for the withdrawal symptoms of monohydromorphanon (or MHM as they call it on the streets). Think heroin but a rather more sophisticated and engineered opiate, purely synthetic. Heroin hasn't been seen in this country for over 40 years, and neither has morphine. A lot had changed since the discovery. Too much.
3 years ago, back in 2041, before I got hooked injecting synthetic opiates, before the bomb went off as per its design, before Fyo tried to kill me and before the police stuck their corrupt snouts into my financial affairs, I was worked as an engineer for Mintronika, a medium sized firm that manufactured components for the base standard operating code of the new brain computer interfaces. I had a girlfriend Charli, whom I loved with all of my heart. Life just semmed like it had begun to glow for the first time that I could remember. This would all change, as does everything."
Ash.
This is an excerpt from something I started writing the other day. I have never actually sat down and written a fictional piece, though over the years I have made several unsuccessful and very brief attempts. Please tell me what you think of this, my style, etc. I know it isn't much but I just want to know if I'm working in the right direction. I hope you are all healthy and well.
"They all sat around, scattered about the living room. Like birds perched on the leather cushions of a leather couch. Each squawking also, not too dissimilar to birds also. Anyway, neither the fact that I wanted to be there, nor the fact that one of the vultures was of use to me, was persuading me to leave so I sat helplessly glued to my seat by some adhesive allergic to the desire for retreat. I asked Bronwyn, one of the middle aged frequent flyers, had everything been okay, of late? She responded with a nod and performed some quirky manouever with her eyes, and after taking a drag from her cigarette, returned her attention to whatever it was that she was focusing on prior to me throwing her a question. I had come over to Ralph's because Petey had said there would be a guy named Roger there who I would be most interested in conversing with. I trusted Petey with pleasant effort. He was not one to fuck around.
So, it all began before winter set in, late in what had been a very long year for many. The police had been out in force, riot squads storming local haunts, roughing people up. You know, the usual abuse of power type of scenario. Since an explosive device was discovered inside a truck that was parked outside of the Riverstone building in Cubenasi, where Fyo worked. Despite the bomb squad's best efforts, the device detonated at 11:11 AM on the 13th June 2044. One of the bomb experts supposedly suggested that the device was far too complex to disarm, and would take even weeks to just understand how it operated. I heard that transmission over shortwave radio. I got into the habit of always having a police scanner on, and unlike smoking I think it is a healthy habit. So the days were dreary, the weather matched the mood about the city. A lockdown was being enforced, so whilst staring out the window there were no families walking their dogs, no delivery trucks passing by. The place had become a ghost town, and something told me that there was more to this than a simple failed bomb defusal.
The bomb had killed 4 police employees, who were in the immediate area. 18 bystanders were severely wounded and 7 passed away once they got to hospital. As to why anybody would want to kill Fyo, I could give you a thousand answers. Fyo was a young, somewhat introverted, computer hacker and had pioneered some of the early successful experiments in the field of reality data manipulation. These days people were doing all kinds of things by changing the structure of a piece of data that existed physically in our reality. For example, an egg could become a chicken and then proceed to have a conversation with a random ear about how antiquated jet propulsion technology is. I yawned and scratched the stubble that had populated my face seemingly overnight. I took a look out the window, the suns had risen at 6:30 AM and were now sitting high in the sky, suggesting it was about midday. Despite the abundance of technology that I am surrounded by, and unfortunately have to use every now and then, I didn't own a time keeping device, such as a clock. A few years back I had a mechanical clock that chimed, you'd be lucky to find one in working condition these days. I think I sold it for some cash that was urgently required when I spent more of my income than I received, and I had to purchase - there was no way I could've gone through it again cold turkey. You develop a healthy fear for the withdrawal symptoms of monohydromorphanon (or MHM as they call it on the streets). Think heroin but a rather more sophisticated and engineered opiate, purely synthetic. Heroin hasn't been seen in this country for over 40 years, and neither has morphine. A lot had changed since the discovery. Too much.
3 years ago, back in 2041, before I got hooked injecting synthetic opiates, before the bomb went off as per its design, before Fyo tried to kill me and before the police stuck their corrupt snouts into my financial affairs, I was worked as an engineer for Mintronika, a medium sized firm that manufactured components for the base standard operating code of the new brain computer interfaces. I had a girlfriend Charli, whom I loved with all of my heart. Life just semmed like it had begun to glow for the first time that I could remember. This would all change, as does everything."
Ash.
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