Writing Exercise -- Just continue writing where that last person left off.

[Just A Guy]

Music filled the room. Smooth sounds reminiscent of 1950's downtempo. Tobacco and other smoked leaves created a haze that set off the pastel illumination of neon lighting from the beer advertisements and the burning tungsten of recessed lighting across the far wall that spanned the entire length of the bar.


The house band was playing a mellow rendition of city jazz that chased the worry from their audience's troubled hearts. Hepperle’s was the kind of place that separated the real and the ideal: Whatever you believed the world ought to be just was inside those wooden-panel walls. In fact, the city was further insulated from the club by a foyer with doors on both sides, so when someone entered from busy New York 112th st the patrons were spared the intrusion of the city’s angry sprawl.

 

[busted.produk]

Outside, the rain begins to fall, releiving the atmosphere of a palpable tension that was not felt within those walls. The interior sub-climate remained unchanged. Jovial and autonomous , just how it has always been.
Time was relative inside these walls.
"How long have i been here?" A patron to my right asks.
"How long have any of us been here?" Another patron replies with a wry grin.
Einstein would have snickered at that.
There are no clocks and no windows. The only things dictating the arbitratry measurment are the percussive rhythms and the depleted bottles.
The band picks up the tempo.

 

[Incognegrowigger]

But while morphing up popped a blossoming bloom and wow it was spectacular. All we knew was that it was pure and that it was life. This was matter and consumed space we all mattered.

 

[conscious-observed]

The flower grew, glowing white and burned my eyes. As petals flowed about the room, like chiffon wedding dress skirts blown by a box fan, Hoglodon froze

 

[conscious-observed]

Thorns emerged from the radiating green stalk of the blinding white, morphing flower. These thorns took the form of early hominids and separated from the giant stem, fastidiously going about their work huddled close to the ground and performing complicated hand gestures against the ground. These floored gestures produced the same blinding white light as the blossom.
Hoglodon recognized these beings and spoke to them irately

 

[Just A Guy]

"Lo fa, nay hojma. Engum beetay!"

The thorns retracted into the meaty stalks, and the white light pulsed three times, fading more each time, and as the light went dark, the flower disappeared. Hoglodon closed his eyes, smiled, and willed a portal into existence. The portal was black, and dark tendrils seethed around it's perimeter. Hoglodon stepped through and disappeared forever.

"Did that really happen?" asked the bartender, his mouth gaped open like a fish out of water.

The band began to play "Shiny Songs," and the atmosphere returned to its murmured excitement.

"Whatever just happened here is exactly why I smoke pot." said the earlier philosopher, as he pulled out an ivory pipe and began toking on some fine cush.

 

[lovebeams]

"Here we go again..." croaked Smitty
Smitty was a long time resident of the bar, janitor, and unassumed genius. He had been watching from the bathroom alcove as Hoglodon tore the fuck out of the floor. He had seen this sort of thing once or twice before, there were a few different ways this could go...

 

[conscious-observed]

Hoglodon's last appearance left a regular patron of the establishment dead; a closeted gay man that reinforced his feeling of security in his heterosexual guise by flirting with women and drinking. Smitty wasn't the sole witness of this event, but his description of the happenings was too descriptive to be taken seriously by local law enforcement. They wrote him off as a crazy.

Smitty coughed, though he really didn't need to cough.

Either Hoglodon will be back within the hour, or he will be back after a few days. Either way, his presence will be felt in this place. Hoglodon is an intelligent and insidious being. His goals aren't easy to measure.

With the personal knowledge of Hoglodon's future emanence, Smitty, grabbed the broom and began sweeping the broken floor. He knew his input would be written off as the musings of a person mentally ill

 

[sigmond]

i think this is a great idea for a thread, i had something written but its incredibly lame so for now im just going to give this a bump.