a story...the beginnnings

09 Nov 06 Thursday
6:09 PM - a story...the beginnnings
Category: Writing and Poetry

i was at work today and i just got this bizarre urge to start writing and i got an idea for a story.

think the windup bird chronicles meets neil gaimen meets bukowsi and burroughs

i posted it b/c i am incredibly rusty and any comments or critiques on the style of the writing. btw - dont worry about the punctuation and capitalization.

thanks


The sun was shining brightly through the leaves that covered the dog park in shade. to be fair the park wasnt all that big and the trees in it werent that many, but they had long limbs and many leaves that helped to give the place a serene kind of feel. Thomas was sitting under one of these trees, watching the random dogs weaving around the park catching various objects with the natural athleticism that dogs have and sniffing each other with that carefree sensibility that dogs also seem to have.

Thomas was sitting down because he could walk no further. to be fair, thomas couldhave walked further, but his chosen place to throw up was in the bushes a few metres from the tree. the rest was just a moments' recovery.

a huge labradour raced up to him and a momentary wave of panic washed over thomas. standing on its hind legs, the dog would have been as tall as Thomas. the dog approached quickly and began to sniff around thomas. It began to lick his face, much to the discomfort of the fallen boy. for a moment Thomas was blind as the dog filled up his field of vision.

"ben!", a voice barked from somewhere behind the dog. thomas pushed the dog away from his face and his field of vision catching a young man of indeterminate early 20's appraoching from the corner of his eye.

there was a whistle accompanying a loud, "here boy". the dog stoppped and looked back to see his owner approaching. the dog though about it for a moment, turned back to thomas, regarding him and ran to the voice.

"sorry about that," the young man said, rustling the dog's head, "he's really sweet, just big."
thomas wiped the dog slober from his face and looked up.
"its okay." he croaked.
the man grabbed the dog by the sides of it's head and slid his ears back and forth.
"isnt that right, gentle ben..."
Thomas chucked a little.
"gentle ben, like the bear,"he laughed.
the man looked over and smiled, "yeah."
"thats a bit retro, isnt it?"
"a little, I guess."

The moment slid into silence while the momentum of he conversation died. The man looked at Thomas taking measure of him. Thomas was sitting with his back to the tree, wearing a doubtful expression. he wore it well, thomas wore most things well. he was in shape, (which is mandatory in los angeles) and wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. the bottoms of the legs were frayed from where they had reached the ground and been slowly unraveled. the space where the shirt met his jeans was mussed from being tucked in and a small stain of sick accented his left shoulder.

The man smiled awkwardly and let the dog lead him away. Thomas leaned back into himself and quietly smiled. Ah, yes, the distance sets in, he thought.

Thomas leaned forward and rolled himself forward off of the slope of the trees roots at it..s base. As he stood to his full height, the withdrawl hit. For a moment, a force from beyond that seemed to grab his soul and hold it out of his body for a moment. The park warped out of his view.