BARBELITH underground
 

Subcultural engagement for the 21st Century...
Barbelith is a new kind of community (find out more)...
You can login or register.


Underground > Creation >

One Sentence at a Time

  
  

Page: (1)2

 
 
We're The Great Old Ones Now
12:36 / 01.02.02
Just what it says. We're telling a story, we're doing it one sentence at a time.

______________________________________

Cecily's shoulders and back rest against the mahogany cabinet, her feet press firmly on the chimney; in her wedding dress and sensible shoes, she bridges the space between her mother's side table and the wall and begins another bid for freedom.
 
 
Sax
12:45 / 01.02.02
From within the folds of lace and silk she produces a single cigarette, lights it, and inhales deeply, watching the smoke trail through the shafts of sunlight slanting in at the window, and thinking: This is it. This is it. No turning back. Not this time.
 
 
Spatula Clarke
12:50 / 01.02.02
Click.
 
 
Laughing
13:01 / 01.02.02
"Suicide is a mortal sin, you know," rasps Little Jack, materializing on the tabletop and wringing his tail in his hands.
 
 
Sax
13:19 / 01.02.02
Cecily closes her eyes, exhaling slowly, and says: "You don't exist. Go away. I don't need you any more."
 
 
Laughing
13:31 / 01.02.02
"That's what they all say," Jack sighs, and promptly vanishes.
 
 
deja_vroom
13:34 / 01.02.02
*just to say - Storm of BLue, you &%$#$$, you ruined my sentence! oh, well...*
 
 
Laughing
13:39 / 01.02.02
*i'll gladly edit it out, marquis, just ask*
 
 
We're The Great Old Ones Now
14:01 / 01.02.02
The hallucinations are getting worse, she thinks, and continues the long climb to the window and escape.
 
 
deja_vroom
14:09 / 01.02.02
They were parts of her wrecked mind, little rats coming to say bye-bye as the big ship starts to sink, like Little Jack, and he wasn't the only one - there were more, and they were coming to her.

[ 01-02-2002: Message edited by: Marquis de Jade ]
 
 
grant
14:21 / 01.02.02
The wind was cold.
 
 
Spatula Clarke
14:36 / 01.02.02
As the last drops of sweat - stale and cool, now - drop from her forehead onto the floorboards (and slip through the slats to the room below, creating little ripples in Mr Winters' steaming mug of coffee), she hears yet another voice, distant but clear:

"Why is it that every time we start on one of these, hallucinations become a theme after about six posts?"
 
 
Persephone
16:08 / 01.02.02
Much to her own surprise, she answers back, "Oh no you don't... don't you get all meta on me, this is my goddamn story."

[ 04-02-2002: Message edited by: Persephone ]
 
 
Sax
16:26 / 01.02.02
One more push and she was at the top, poking her head into the night sky, the oh so very cold wind whipping her veil around her head.

[ 01-02-2002: Message edited by: Sax ]
 
 
Spatula Clarke
22:06 / 01.02.02
"Don't look down, kid."
 
 
Bear
22:23 / 01.02.02
She looked up and saw the same child she alwyas saw, the smiling little girl with blood on her hands, thats when she woke up crying.

[ 04-02-2002: Message edited by: Vampbear ]
 
 
Matthew Fluxington
22:38 / 01.02.02
She rolled on her side and tapped her lover on the shoulder. "Gary...Gary, dear --- I'm having the dream again...I think it's beginning..."

[ 02-02-2002: Message edited by: Flux = Pet Eunoch ]
 
 
Spatula Clarke
22:46 / 01.02.02
PAN TO: view from bedroom window.
 
 
Mr Tricks
23:19 / 01.02.02
Gary was talking in his sleep again; dreaming of being some bigshot movie director.
 
 
Jack Fear
00:50 / 02.02.02
But Cecily tapped him again, and his body, so loose in slumber, stiffened as he coiled again into consciousness.
 
 
Ganesh
04:59 / 02.02.02
His fingers, groping for the lightswitch, brush something warm and wet.

[ 04-02-2002: Message edited by: Ganesh v4.2 ]
 
 
Sax
08:55 / 02.02.02
"Don't turn the light on," she hisses.
 
 
Jack Fear
12:23 / 02.02.02
Gary quickly retracted himself back onto the mattress, like a small boy fearing child-snatching monsters beneath the bedframe; and in a voice like that same small boy he whispered, "O-okay."
 
 
Laughing
13:31 / 02.02.02
Something in the dark begins to sing.

[ 02-02-2002: Message edited by: Storm of Blue vs. Chuck Bukowski ]
 
 
Billy Corgan
00:20 / 03.02.02
"Squa! Squaaaaaa! I am the Soul-Sparrow!" sang the strange bird of darkness which swooped before Gary, its eyes ablaze with crimson fire.
 
 
Crenshaw
03:19 / 03.02.02
As her man pulled the blanket over his head and his testicles up into pelvis, Cecily fumbled for her DEA-issued handgun on the nightstand, knocking aside cigarettes, ashtray and car keys, but the little table was drifting away from her, the blown-glass lamp tipping over as the nightstand slithered out of reach, along with the desk, dresser and crumpled piles of clothes; the walls, too, were receding, and now revolving, slowly at first, then picking up speed, the framed seascapes blurring with the windows, while the frozen couple on the motionless bed cowered under the nameless, loathsome shape that had begun to scream in a language no human had ever heard.
 
 
Matthew Fluxington
12:19 / 04.02.02
It felt as though time was standing still, but the world was spinning faster.
 
 
grant
13:40 / 04.02.02
Old Francisco would be wondering where she was by now, wondering why the latest mother for his unholy heir was not properly manacled in her bridal chamber.
 
 
lentil
13:40 / 04.02.02
The scream increased in pitch and intensity as the world accelerated until, for all its otherworldly horror, it achieved a strange familiarity, twanging long- dormant chords of memory in Cecily's fevered brain.
 
 
lentil
13:59 / 04.02.02
Cecily: "I never loved that fucker anyway." [thinks] "Is that Smashing Pumpkins I can hear?"
 
 
Billy Corgan
14:10 / 04.02.02
It was the greatest, most beautiful and meaningful music she had heard with her mortal ears - it was The Smashing Pumpkins indeed! (Specifically, "Thru The Eyes Of Ruby" from the megaplatinum double album Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness)
 
 
The Return Of Rothkoid
14:39 / 04.02.02
It was a shame that the music was so distorted - following the sound, she discovered that it was originating from a battered ear-trumpet that rested on a nearby side-table.

[ 04-02-2002: Message edited by: The Return Of Rothkoid ]
 
 
Darryl Strawberry
16:18 / 04.02.02
Cecily lifted the trumpet to her ear, and immediately heard a tiny voice scream "Don't make fun of the deaf!"
 
 
grant
12:36 / 05.02.02
She stirred as an uneasy sleeper stirs, put down the ear trumpet, and gathered a few personal things together - only those things she would need to get off the grounds and to headquarters.
 
 
gridley
13:50 / 05.02.02
She gathered up the lotus blossoms from beneath her pillow, the golden ladle from her boot, the stoppered glass vial from the nightstand, and just in case of trouble, a small paperback novel entitled "The Bleeding Gun."
 
  

Page: (1)2

 
  
Add Your Reply