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Leia Mais…June 28, 2009
June 9, 2009
Chasing Storms
Not sure this will turn out to be a WIP. I’m up for suggestions.
I came across Denise Robbins via her Twitter account.
Denise offers some fun writing prompts and exercises. This one triggered something that took over and when done, left me thinking this is probably another one for the slush folder, but you never know. I’d rather have a slush folder bursting at the seams than blank pages constantly taunting me mercilessly.
This is a revised version of a piece I wrote inspired by the prompt, “She opened her email..”
She opened her email but decided to only read the one marked urgent. She pushed aside the mouse as she reached for her travel mug and wondered how much longer she had before they arrived.
What would it change if they knew the truth? They wouldn’t believe me anyway, so why should I bother?
The day had been going well. Nothing unusual, not even the green tint to the clouds had her worried. Tornado season was well under way and Longbow always saw its fair share of action. The town has a warning system, which seems pointless to Joanna since the storm chasers always hit town long before the weather, giving them ample time to prepare.
They’re a welcome sight. After losing the refinery, the town began to shrivel up and crack like a field suffering from a severe drought. Some days, the caravans heading out past the abandoned buildings reminded her of the images of fleeing refugees she once saw on CNN.
Swallowing the last of her coffee, she looks out the open window towards a massive shape swirling in the distance, moving slowly across the horizon. As the sirens begin to wail, she re-reads the message, its implications making it clear she needs to act quickly.
Joanna makes a couple of quick calculations and figures she has just enough time to make it to the gravesite and ensure it looks no different than the landscape surrounding it. They made her promise never to tell. No sense in it they told her. No one would listen, only believing what they want, never accepting the truth. Just make sure you visit us every so often, and remember us the way we were, not what we’d become.
She’d kept her vow. She’d taken care of everything. It’d been easy to explain that they’d left town while they still had the means to start over. But someone’s been talking and she has a good idea who. She curses herself for being stupid enough to trust him.
Deleting the message, she turns off the laptop and sets out to protect the world from a knowledge it isn’t ready for and couldn’t handle anyway. As soon as the investigators leave, she packs up the Jeep and heads toward Dallas. One more time she thinks. After him, I’m through.
© J.C. Montgomery 2009. All Rights Reserved.
Leia Mais…June 6, 2009
Ruination
Hostility thrives within the mind, starving creativity and ensuring the unchecked weed of doubt entangles an ordinary imagination, encasing it within a thick growth of apathy.
Arrogance tells us lies our ego makes us believe. Fantasy feeds this delusion until it becomes our reality.
Rationality has come finally to condemn me for my folly.
If you care anything for your sanity, heed my story and run when the muse calls you.
She only wants your soul and all that makes you human and when she’s done with you, there will be nothing left but the husk of a seed that never can be sown.
Inspired by this week's Three Word Wednesday: Hostility, Ordinary, Folly Leia Mais…
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Works by J.C. Montgomery are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
