It was a sunny day.
All the days had been sunny so far, a study in metiorlogical consistancy, Bright, sunny, beach weather. Which was a coincidence, what with the beach.
They ran along the beach, hands interlocking. A single entity, forever in lov…
A car drove passed his window, and shattered Jason’s concentration.
The most terrible thing for a writer is the dreaded granite stone wall of Block. And for the last four weeks, he had suffered from it in abundance. The last of his candles flickering around him, Jason tried to write a story he could sell, so he could buy things.
Important things, like food. And Rent.
Bathed in the light of the cathode ray tube, the endless white screen filled his mind. He needed to write a story, something nice, upbeat, Sellable. The idea of going back to the agency for another temporary job filled him with horror, and for a moment, an instant, a flash of mental lightening gave him a story, of love, of betrayal, and of… something. There must be more to fiction than love and betrayal. Depressive, angsty stories did not, said the editors, sell magazines. Love stories are supposed to have happy endings, they said, write them.
Jason Wood looked at the scattered remains of his life and disagreed.
He closed his eyes, and let the stories take him. A flash, a scene a…
…a dark alleyway, the gun pointing at his head.
“Your money” said the voice,
“And my life?” he asked naievly
“I doubt it” said the mugger. There was a gunshot, and Jason felt his live flash before his eyes. But he wasn’t dead, he heard the thump of the mugger’s corpse hit the floor! He was saved!
“Thankyou, Oh Thank…” he babbled at the newcomer, a dark figure outlined against the streetlights.
“Shut up” said the man. “And give me your money or I kill you”.
And he felt his spirit sink, until he realised that…
…the boat was sinking. He almost laughed, Somebody had finally managed to sink Bloodbeard! ha. They should know it wasn’t that easy. Bloodbeard leaped into the fight, decapitating with a swift blow of his curved sword, Lopping off the sword-arm of a kingsman, and relegating all in his way to either an early grave, or eternal memory of his razor sharp blade. As he reached Hamlinson, he sliced the man in front of him down with a swipe to the neck. Blood fountianed over him, and although he was already splattered with the blood of a thousand men, this affected him as no other had done, for the randomness of physics had placed the ultimate target of this blood to be his eyes. Bloodbeard wiped his face with the back of his hand, and was just in time to see the sun glisten off Hamlinson’s blade before his neck was seperated from his shoulders, and Bloodbeard the pirate was no more…
…would we ever be alone. As our eyes met across the room, it was love at first sight, a future made together. As quickly as she could she disentangled herself from my foppish elder brother and headed for me.
“Do you dance?” I asked the vision before me
“My prince” she bowed, and offered her hand. I took this for an affermitive, and for the remainder of the evening we waltzed, arm in arm, together.
Towards the midnight hour, my brother summoned me. With great regret I left the vision behind me, and cursed by siblings timing.
“I have made my choice” he said, as I arrived.
“You have chosen a wife?” I replied, incredulous.
“Indeed. That was the purpose of this ball, was it not?” It was indeed, and I had a terrible forboding for the next sentance. Completely justified, as it turned out. The clock struck midnight, and the musictions stopped, as my brother raised his voice for the benifit of the entite audience. “I have chosen my wife. The next queen shall be” He left a dramatic pause I could have hit him for. “Cinderella”
There was a pause as the final toll of the bell marked the entrance of the new day. Cinderella glanced into my eyes, and at that moment I felt all her pain. Then she acted.
“NO!” she cried, and ran out of the hall, while the guards were too stunned to stop her. She got away so quickly I feared she would trip over her dress. But she escaped cleanly, although she left behind a slipper. My brother would take the kingdom apart to look for her, I knew. I hoped he discuise was good…
…”grief. Get ahold of yourself”, Jason thought aloud. Pirates? Cinderella? He needed reality.
Jason sighed, got himself another drink, and tried to break though writers block