I Made a Writings \O.o/

Today I feel like sharing with all of yous a few short writes I’ve put down on paper lately. Mind you, these aren’t really that refined, and their length makes them more like sketches than stories, but I enjoyed writing them, so I figured I might as well try them out on you.

This first one I got an idea to do when I interpreted the following picture somewhat oddly in my creative writing class at school (it was used as a writing prompt):

All props go to newmexico51 from Flickr for the image.

John sighed, shoved his feet into his black leather boots, and stood up. Walking over to his closet, he pulled out a pair of faded jeans and his favorite flannel shirt. Why did I put my boots on first? he wondered as he struggled to pull the pants on over the boots’ angled heels, his foot straightening out and getting caught halfway up the leg, causing a minor crisis. He debated not wearing pants at all today - no one would see anything anyway. Finally he forced them up, buttoned and zipped them, flung on his shirt and exited the room, walking down the hall towards the cafeteria.

The others have it so easy, he thought, they can turn on and off, choose whether or not to use their gifts. They can walk through civilization if they want to, head held high, no one suspecting their true nature. Of all the freaks on this island, John decided, he had it the hardest. What kind of other life could there be for the Invisible Man?

The other is about a bridge.

This bridge is long. Very long. Just how much time I’ve spent traversing this walkway I’m not certain, but it’s been enough that I can’t remember feeling the sun anymore, or the wind on my face, or laughter.

It’s always dark here, save for the phosphorescent glow of the planks themselves, and the black abyss extends down on either side. I threw a penny over the edge once - after about an hour I gave up on hearing it hit. It is truly horrid here.

At least you’re alright - you are alright, aren’t you? They said that they would take care of you, that they would keep you from harm. All I had to do was cross this bridge and talk to a man on the other side. Of course, I’m realizing now that it’s not so easy as that.

Day after day, I never cease; I don’t even get tired or hungry any more. It drives me so crazy sometimes that I have to walk along with my hat pulled low over my face, just so that I don’t have to look at these sickly green, glowing boards of wood, rotten almost to the point of breaking. And even then I can hear their sinister creaking, like laughter, driven to tears by my torment.

Maybe some day I’ll snap. Maybe some day I’ll do a swan dive off the side, or I’ll leap out from atop the railing like a wrestler about to deliver his finishing blow. Maybe someday I’ll see if this damned pit really does have a bottom. But for now, at least, I’m still content to just walk, and think of your face.

Alright! It’s certainly no Broken Chair Essay, but It’s all I’ve got. As I get back into the habit of writing more often, I’ll start to post things I’ve composed more frequently. I hope you enjoyed reading.