I was reading about forming habits [from an article that Gala Darling linked me to – so much good advice!] and I have decided that I am going to write 250 words every day for a month.
This is to get me back into writing – because no matter how crappy it is, it’ll be like a 1/12th-sized 365 project [which I think that my photoblog is starting to become].
From the way I’ve been feeling, I think that I can definitely do that bite-sized sort of project. I’ve decided that it can be on any subject and in any genre that I want! However, that doesn’t mean that I have to share it with you. Mwahaha… Maybe I should just stop talking and delve into it. Right here, right now.
He tapped on the window with one greasy forefinger. The lovers collided, their hands splayed out across the backseat car window. They plunged to the floor in fright, having listened anxiously for the sound of their parents’ cars driving up or the shouts of angry search parties. To them, this night held the most tension of any that had passed. Aleksandr waited. Slowly, two teenagers rose simultaneously from the dark leather seats of the Volkswagon Passat – fully clothed, a little disheveled. The girl had both bubblegum pink bra straps hanging out from beneath her hastily zipped hoodie. Her cherry blond hair was shoved to one side, straight tresses trailing into her eyes. The boy was breathing hard, his blue eyes glossed over. The boy’s eyes were slowly coming in line with his own; they looked scared, ready to bolt. All of the strong movie men had faded from his gaze, now he was just a little boy looking for an escape route. They were both holding their breath, but let it out slowly when they saw him. It was neither their parents nor a rescue team. Their eyes widened and they clutched at each other’s hands. The boy spoke first. “Hey, who are you?” Blunt. He smiled – this boy wanted to take over the situation. “Out of the car,” he said, raising his voice to a menacing growl. The lovers looked at one another; the girl brushed the hair out of her face and pulled her jacket up over her shoulders. They started to rise to a sitting position. The boy put his hand on the back of the driver’s seat, never taking his eyes off the large man standing outside his car. “Who are you?” the boy repeated. Be brave, he thought, sliding his hand out from behind his back. In the darkness, he waved something that looked like a short rod. The boy flung himself over the center aisle and seized the keys in the ignition. He brought down the metal rod onto the back window and the girl shrieked and covered her head in her hands. The car revved to life as the boy turned the key, pressing his foot to the gas pedal. He dragged the metal rod forward, pressed a button, watched the thing hum to life as the glass shattered inward. He pounded the rear window as they drove away. With a slow chuckle, he brought the metal rod down to his side, blood rushing through his veins. Off in the distance, the car had turned onto a main road, its headlights finally winking on as the boy thought they had gone far enough. In the artificial light, he saw his handiwork. On the side of the car, where the tip of the rod had hit, a glinting glass orb had worked its way into the metal. He smiled. Then, as quick as he’d come, he disappeared into the night.
That’s actually 490 words according to Word… but whatever! 250+ words is what I’m working towards!
Also, the picture is of a chicken hat [yes, it has a headband attached to its waist] that was used to advertise Audience Participation, a show I directed and acted in last year. It has been born anew in my search for interesting photographic moments – this time, involving shadows. I hope no one finds out how lame this setup looks in real life (and no, I’m not going to tell you what I used to make it look like the chicken’s shadow was stabbing it’s body; that would just ruin the effect) That thing is seriously the creepiest item ever. Especially in black and white. Ever.
Check out some more posts featuring my photography.
More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.