Thursday, November 26, 2009

Black operation.

Why are you standing at the foot of the lamppost, outside the park, in black pin striped three piece suit, yet you are a teenage boy? It is winter. Bitter frost hangs the night. You trail thin puffs of breath. What are you waiting on? Your hair is lacquered smooth with gel and glistens under the wake of yellow light. You stand up-right in sentry. Your face, pale smooth white skin, bright amber iris's rimming jet black pupils, chiselled jaw line, and straight warm red lips.

You hold a black Oak stick with a silver regal brass knob, by your right hand; tap it, once, twice, three times, upon the pavement. You lift your head to the sky, which is cloudless and perfect jet black, stars illuminating, like frost and white stones sugared upon the pavement, glittering under lamplight. You straighten your lapels with your left hand, and then lift your left arm, toward your face to read the time. What is waiting for you?

Lamp light trembles in threat of going out, you look up, searching then look forward again, unconcerned. The street is silent. You must be very cold. Yet there is no impatience in your manner. You seem, precise. Prepared. Deliberate. Clandestine. Suddenly, like the black bird startled, you snap your head to the right, look off into the darkness; some sound? A call? It is impossible to know. You take three strides outside the perimeter of the lamp glow, untraceable and sealed, by the pitch dark of midnight.


Jim Murdoch said...

Intriguing but not much more. What I did do was paste the text into Word and do a global replace turning every sentence into a paragraph. It made it easier to read and changed the flow, slowed my reading down. As a snapshot this works fine but like a found photograph I was left with more questions than anything.

Worth developing.

McGuire said...

Intriguing but not much more' - mon' Jim, that's a bit of a dead comment.

Why should there be anything more? The scene is well sculpted. Not finished. But, what is ever complete? I really had this scene vividly in mind. I wanted to caputre it in precise detial. I think I was successful. As for there being anything, 'more', no! There isn't/ Certianly, I have left hints here and there, about what it 'could' be about.

Some times people destory things by wanting to understand them. To 'develop' things. Some times what is not being said is an even more interesting game.

I like the idea of the spacing. I'll make it into three paragraphs. I think it has a certian beauty to it. Don't you think? I might be wrong. At the end of the day, it is a picture, I created. Nothing grander.

McGuire said...

'Intriguing but not much more.'

It's just occured to me, this is probably an apt description of all of my writing. :)

Not much more.

The Brokendown Barman said...

i like it. Think ive only read the revised edition tho. Always a pleasure to read things about nothing, or everything, if you get my drift. Like a Simon and Garfunkle song, a picture in words. might need a little revision to become something extra special, but as it is....... I love it big man.

The Brokendown Barman said...

oh and by the way, Intriguing and not much more is the way forward, didnt you know that????