Sin

Another story that got started and then hit the wall of lost inspiration. It's called Sin.

I’ve often dealt with the more negative forces of the universe, being turned ever more cynical by the curve-balls that life had thrown at me one after another. You remember that old saying ‘some people are just never happy’? Well, I laugh at that statement. Happy? Fuck you. It turns out that I just hate.

Waging wars of prejudice upon weak minded puppets used to be my sport. I’d slit the throat of the snake tongued liars and sever any thread of corrupt justice meted out arbitrarily without even a glimpse behind; not a second thought. But as fate would weave it, I turned into mine own enemy. I used to believe that there were good people in the world and that if you tried hard enough you’d succeed in life. You wouldn’t become like one of those other dregs you see on the train every morning; lifeless and grey with their expensive suits and shitty little haircuts. I didn’t want to be like that at all.
I wanted to be somebody who would make a difference to the world and be remembered forever as a saviour. The guy who cured the big C or the guy who reversed the effects of aging so we’d never grow old again. The guy who could bring joy to a child’s face when she sees her recently deceased dog running through the back door again. I want I want I want. Obviously none of this turned out how I’d planned it.
What really happened was a brain tumour.
It thrust my life in to an equivocal paradox where I began to see the cloud on every silver lining. It’d do the same to you too. Sure it would. Imagine being told you’ve only got so long to live before you’re going to keel over. That’s it. Finished. Hope you’ve enjoyed your stay. I never even got the chance to raise a family because science nerds don’t get girlfriends. They’re too wimpy. They get married to Clearasil and to their computers. They don’t get hot porn-star women chasing after them because beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. He who doesn’t judge on appearance is truly the shallow. I don’t remember who said that.
The doctor said he didn’t know how long I’d have, only that it wouldn’t be very long and I should start making arrangements. I sat there for a few moments, him staring at me from under his turban quietly whilst I took the information in. I just stared. It was like being shot; the world seeming to screech to a halt. My heart beat in my chest like an animal trying to break through, my insignificant life being diminished to that of a flicker amongst the halo that is the universe. The little things important to you are obsolete, the fears just jokes with sour punch-lines.
“I’m sorry to have to give you this news Mr. Morris”.
He almost had to say it twice; I don’t think I heard him the first time.
“There is nothing we can do I’m afraid. The tumour is aggressive”.
It was funny hearing this through a bad English/Indian accent. It was then that I just got up and left. I have no idea what he was saying to me when I closed his office door, but he didn’t come after me. I suppose he didn’t think it worth it. I was just another name being crossed off. He still gets paid so why does he care? I drove back to the lab.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention through my sob story. I’m a scientist.

It stinks. The rain only tends to make it worse…and here, it rains continuously. The morose grey gets its daily downpour but it doesn’t bother me. You get used to it. But that smell…that smell you can never get rid of. It’s a mixture of blood, piss and defecation.
That’s all this place stands for now. That and sin.

New WIPs

I'm currently working on a project that's a little out of the ordinary for me. Instead of trying to write a gripping novel I'm approaching writing with an almost child-like view. This means letting the images do almost as much talking as the rhyming does. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, it's all limericks and rhymes. It's not the final version, I still need to edit and get artwork sorted for it. But as far as understanding the story itself...well, you find out.

The Tale of Two Lovers Lost

One thunderstorm

Covered a mid-summers night-sky

It laid a roaring blanket

Over two lovers and their demise

Heaven cries when angels die

Yet none fall from above

And the only thing that could not be so lost

Were the pains of the lover’s undying love

So tales were told in the bars and taverns

Of a terrible vengeful plight

That two spectres should readily appear

On the eve of their ill-fated night

Moans are heard and figures are seen

To those eyes who happen by

Yet few have ever set foot on the grounds

‘less one should lose his life!

That is until one young lad had dared

And made his way to their home

A foolhardy boy with air ‘tween the ears

He made the journey alone

The night sky was clad with fog

Yet the haunting moon still leered

But it was not this horrid atmosphere

That he truly had feared

He’d be the first and for sure the last

But it was the dreadful thought

That he might not return alive

And get the fame he had surely sought

He’d be forever gone

And missing, like the others

He’d be just another fatal victim

Of the vengeful lovers

He approached wearily

His eyes crept as he scanned

No living soul was present here

Just the dust and debris of the damned

The echo as he entered

Of that long un-used front door

Had surely awoken any who dwell

If he had not before

Inside the house it was damp

And it clutched hold of his melancholy

Yet adrenalin still raced his veins

Should his quest be his folly

But he persevered and pushed ahead

Just like mummy’s little soldier

He was bold alright, and rightly so

He told himself as he looked over his shoulder

And then, an aching hollow gripped him

And he received the spinal shivers

As the soft resonance of a females voice

Came to him from amongst all that withers

He froze in his place

And realised his groin had released

For there she stood, impossibly so

The previously deceased!

Yet there he stay

As the spectre approached by the by

His throat dry and his skin pale

As the boy started to cry

And now stood he, face to face

Looking at the beautiful dead maid

And in her face he could read none

Except for her undying rage

“For you, young man, he who dares

Such a discourteous trespass,

A tale of woe and sin and blood

And of love that will forever last”

The horrid maiden

She reached out and touched the boys cheek

He did not flinch or squint his eye

And was shown her tale so bleak

The two lovers were in their prime

So striking and grossly pure

And she, the fair maiden here

Attracted many with her glowing allure

Yet there was one, there always was

Who did not understand

That he could not have the maiden fair

For she had chosen her man

The disgruntled creature grew callous

His intentions were becoming desperate

For he had proposed on many occasion

And hated that they were to be separate

For the man was wealthy

And had reaped the fat of the land

Yet he was a lonely greedy creature

And love he could not understand

The town, they laughed and jeered him by

His pride a blackened smudge

But this only fuelled his woeful glee

As he calculated his grudge

His eye gleamed with evil intent

And his mind worked a design

For a way that she would be his alone

In which she could never decline

Under the cloak of night trodden sky

And a murderous storm of thunder

The loathsome man in a jealous rage

Sliced the eyes of the maidens lover

And from her he stole for himself

After the rape and hurt she endured

The heart cut from her voluptuous chest

For him, his lusting cured

He locked her heart in a wooden box

And made sure it was only he

Who had access to fair maiden’s heart

Making he made sure he’d lost the key

And as if in a dream, the young boy snapped

Out of his morbid reverie

The dead maiden was gone and the sun arise

As he felt his heart break dearly

The tale of the two lovers lost

Dried as the young cocks crowed

The daring young man had surely returned

To his quiet and humble abode

Yet the young lad who had seen the ghost

Of the maiden who was filled with sorrow

Failed to see in his idling day-dream

That it was now his chest that was hollow!