Friday, March 1, 2013

Walking and Writing

Last month I tried to train for a mini-marathon I'm doing a few months from now. Unfortunately Flower the Dog who follows me whenever I go walking or jogging almost got her head ripped off by a group of dogs as a result.

Stupid effing dog! I didn't do a lot of working out after that. I'll have to find a different way to do that...

This month I want do something for writing. Not a lot of writing...maybe just 31 500 word stories...one for each day. I've been thinking about it and I think it's something that will help me do better at writing.

Here is my first little ficlet:


 Dro dropped me off at the hotel told me to wait, he told me he'd be there soon. Liar.
I gave our names at the door and caught the blue eye of a freckle-faced young woman, her face promptly flushed with red and turned away from me. In my own ignorant way, I attributed this to local norms, perhaps they have an aversion to eye contact. It could have been so, I don't know, I'd never been to The Isles before.
I was still wearing the jumpsuit with the logo on it, it surprised me that they even let me in without asking for identification. This should have tipped me off, but I was younger then and I can definitely say this experience taught me a few things.
The staff welcomed in to a “suite” which is kind of like a really nice house that was stacked on top of other houses. It was the most beautiful room I'd ever seen; clean and white, with a fireplace and a balcony with a view of the ocean.
It is also funny, though now in an entirely non-humorous way, I didn't feel tether anymore. No longer did I feel it eating at my back, I thought I was free.
I took of my jacket and noticed something different. It felt different. I removed the upper-half of my jumpsuit and immediately realized why Dro needed to get me new clothes.
Somehow great cuts of meat had attached themselves to my skeleton leaving great ripples on my arms, chest, back, stomach...everywhere. That wasn't the only change, my skin was two shades lighter. My eyes an even shade of brown. I blinked and touched my arm where the bulbus pocket of flesh was. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel like it was a part of me either. He said I would like it, but I didn't I liked being a tall teenager with extra long limbs, large hands, uneven skin tone. That was a normal body. This body was a freak.
“You.” I said waving a finger at my reflection, as if glare back guiltily. “I hate you.”
My mind started racing, I started doing some ritualistic activity, the type of thing I always used to do at home when situations seemed out of my control. Dro's clothing was organized by color (which was had because almost all of his clothing is brown or gray). My jump-suits were folded neatly, the room was immaculately clean. The only thing dirty was my skin which I realized would probably look even more pale when the layers of dirt were removed.
Dro had some explaining to do when he got back.
It wasn't until I was in the shower that I realized he wasn't coming. It wasn't long after that, that I stopped thinking.
Looking back, I realize I should have thought a little more. I should have wondered why he'd sent me in alone, I shouldn't have assumed he was just parking the car. It should have crossed my mind that he could have sent me in to hurt someone, it was the first time I'd simply done as he told me. My first mistake.
I could feel his thoughts of things so alien I can't explain as we walked down a long hallway and knocked on a door.  


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