Jan 16, 2023
Pauly Shore here still resembles Jon v, jovi, Jon Von Letscher, no?
seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from Italy
seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from Japan
seen from Italy
seen from France
seen from Pakistan
Pauly Shore here still resembles Jon v, jovi, Jon Von Letscher, no?
About time?
Marcus wasn't usually the anxious type. While rigid at times, his largely mellow interior was often masked by the precision with which he executed his life. Time did not matter; seconds did. Each minute needed to carefully scripted, each day carefully executed. This routine gave him the freedom to relax a bit, as the well-oiled machine that was his schedule ran largely on its own. Yet Marcus knew. He knew that when the machine failed, when its gears hitched, the voice returned. His inner anxiety was not part of it, it merely resided inside. It was a parasite, feeding off the unexpected. It craved chaos. Only the ticking of the clock, and his meticulously crafted schedule, kept it at bay. When that failed, it reared its ugly head and Marcus was no longer himself.
April 18, 2014.
Overhead, a gull flew by, unaware of the scene below. The sandy beach was almost empty at this early hour. A cool breeze blew and the sun was just barely creeping over the horizon. Along the beach she walked. Her steps were purposeful and plodding. She stared out into the sea, practically oblivious to the path before her. The crisp air awakened her senses. She breathed deeply, as if taking in the whole of nature. She realized it was a good time. This morning was an unexpected treat, as her life usually took place far from the ocean. The trip, the result of an unexpected invite, had signaled new hope and perhaps a different direction. She focused on the moment and tuned her senses into the beach around her. She refused to dwell on what ifs or on what had been. The earth around her awakened as she let their energies meld. She paused in her strolling, smiled, and sat in the sand. Its cool dampness was a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the day. She felt the sand between her fingers and exhaled deeply. She felt part of something bigger, no longer alone. This moment was a culmination of the past few months. It was not the pinnacle however, as she saw her life's path meandering far beyond the horizon. The sun rose as she watched, a symbol of her own awakening and an indicator of what was ahead. This uptick, this forward momentum, as well as the newfound positivity, was well overdue. While she maintained a sunny disposition, the negativity swirled around her. Lost amid its fog, she had long struggled. Only recently had she discovered how to navigate the darkness and dissipate the fog. With each step, with each moment, she felt stronger and more alive. —- What do you think of today’s tale?
Crafting a narrative, word by word.
17 days in and creatively I am blossoming. Such a fun project and so far the feedback has been incredible. I can't wait to create the next narrative! Let's keep it going! Another 300 words posted! http://bit.ly/3500tmbl 10% of goal! http://bit.ly/3500gfm
April 17, 2014.
Long forgotten, and outside of the public's eye, he did his best to settle back into the daily routine. It had been just over a year since he was released and the experiment declared a failure. So, he was home, with a little extra cash in his pocket. He had just gotten back from work, and was settling in to watch some television. Some reality show was doing its best to turn another average citizen into a star. He felt small, and at that moment, the weight of everything that he had gone through crashed down upon him. He wanted to just curl up into a ball and forget the world. Then he felt it. He felt a shift inside; he felt his bones twist. His limbs began to curl and shrink. Horrified, he awoke from his mopey state and his body righted itself. He thought about the laboratory and the injections. The secrecy kept, in spite of the publicity. As he gathered himself, he thought about what just happened and again focused. His body shifted and curled, then slowly shrank. He was not a superhero. He was not anyone special, yet he had power. Within weeks, he had learned to navigate the mental paths and control himself better. He could shrink and roll, becoming a small, impervious ball of flesh. Even better, the speed he attained provided some sort of phasing ability and if timed right, he could pass through objects without harm. The speed almost rendered him virtually invisible as if a mere passing shadow. He was not an angry or evil man. His first forays into using the power involved smaller, kinder acts. Emboldened though, he began to peep and snoop, and realize he could get away with anything. Even murder. With that thought, it had begun. --- Tomorrow will be lighter fare. I promise! What do you think of today’s tale?
April 16, 2014.
Today's inspiration was a response from asking on Facebook (Facebook: 3500 Narrative). Enjoy! --- For two weeks they had been dead in the water. The ship had not moved, at least that is what they determined based on the stars. Every piece of equipment had failed and even the electricity was out. Keeping everyone fed, hydrated, and comfortable was becoming trickier. Everything was mechanically sound and still intact, but inexplicably not working. It was not just the ship that was affected though. The crew's ability to vocalize, whether it was a moan or even a syllable, had vanished. The silence on the ship was unbearable at best as the first few days past. Feeling cursed, the crew's morale dwindled. It had only been three days when the first one of them cracked. It was surprising as he was one of the senior officers. He was a braggart though, and apparently the inability to hear himself talk was his downfall. Within a day of the incident, he had withdrawn completely, taking up post near the front of the deck and refusing to move. For a full day, he stayed immobile, glued to the spot, staring out into the sea. On the third day, he got up, walked the entire length of the ship, and then jumped overboard. After the splash came silence, as he gave up completely, not even trying to stay afloat. Now, 14 days later, eight of them had followed the officer's cue. The captain had yet to stop any of them, instead letting them spend their last day in peace staring at the sea. He stood by and watched them walk the length of the ship for the last time. No one realized he was as even more helpless than they were. Deep below, it lay dormant, only its mind active, as it reached out taking control of the captain yet again. --- What do you think of today’s tale? Any ideas for tomorrow's story?
15 days. 4500 words.
It keeps going! 15 days, 4,500 words, and roughly 10% of the goal (http://www.gofundme.com/3500narrative). This is fantastic! Thank you all for your support! What should the next 300 words be about??
April 15, 2014.
The selection committee unanimously approved him. Out of the 334 candidates, he was their top choice. His history was immaculate and his test scores were practically perfect. By the time he was chosen, it was not a question of if, but rather when. They announced it to the public the day after selecting him. All the fanfare, as well as the attention, was a welcome departure from the man's normal life. In some ways, he felt as if his thorough diligence was being rewarded, as if every time he rechecked his work and his interactions, were solely responsible for this moment. He did not think about how his own personality, or his own physical being, and how it factored in as well. He was the first. Modern medicine as it was had reached a point were the next big leap required human studies. Human studies requiring largely untested methods and medicines. The bold proposal to radically change the process, to gather a pool of willing participants and select one as a test subject, was met with criticism. It happened though; it became reality. This was a new frontier of medicine. It was not meant to cure or to heal, but to improve. To further humankind, that was the pitch. As the trials began, he was not made privy to the injections' contents, or their purpose. He just knew that for six months, he would be barely able to move as they "broke down" and "reconfigured" his insides. A year later, the testing had proved somewhat inconclusive. He was different, they could see that, and he could certainly feel it. What exactly was different was unknown though. The purpose had been strength, to rebind his bones and improve resistance to damage. It had not happened though. The end result? Who knew? --- I'm really enjoying writing these little 300-word narratives. What do you think of today's story?