And he sat there, with all the worry in the world.
Silence and noise all at once.
He sat there thinking…
“What shall I have for lunch?”
When the stats go dry, and true love dies.
No new posts, the promises were a lie.
So I try to do some drawings on cups of the good stuff.
Using my time wisely, trust me.. the days are tough.
Who knew, writing nonsense would be such fun.
And when it rhymes, my followers like it a ton.
So views, views, where art though views?
Stats are now rolling in, two by two.
I am set, I am told to scream… and I do it with pleasure.
I get whacked, sworn at, and I’m most certainly not your best friend when the time comes.
Yet you rely on me, because I’m always there, reliable… yet at times; despised. Continue reading “Inanimate Musings #2 – I am despised…but I don’t care, for you are weak without me.”
Everyone just stares at me.
Staring, as if what I have to offer, is so great that they have to stop their daily lives to dedicate time and attention to myself.
I don’t demand the attention, I just get it. Sometimes I just want to be left alone.
OK… So this is the first in the Blogisodes series… Don’t take it too seriously as It’s only a bit of creative writing… I don’t expect this to garner many likes… But if you do like a bit of fiction now and again… ENJOY!
It was five in the morning, the Sun was still rising, there was a small sprinkle of rain and the birds were starting to wake. The traffic of London was returning to its usual hectic self and it seemed to be a normal Spring morning.
Although it seemed that the majority of locals were asleep, there was one street, not too far away from the city centre that was more alive than usual. The side street was filled with sirens of police cars and ambulances alike. Every member of the neighbourhood was out on their doorsteps looking on at the tragedy that had just transpired.
Continue reading “Blog 28 – A Dramatic Little Red Riding Hood Story – Blogisodes”
Note: Please vote in the Poll at the end of this post. YOU get to decide what I should write next! I also have a new “project” coming out on my blog very soon, which will be more creative writing but a tad different to The Kidnapping. Watch this space. Here is the long-awaited Chapter 4 of my suspense/thriller eBook; The Kidnapping. Enjoy!
A few hours had passed since Piedro had left…The sun had risen and the heat was increasing rapidly. Jason was still hunched up, sitting against the very same wall that Piedro had slammed him against. His eyes were swollen with the lack of sleep and anxiety, yet he forced himself to be awake, almost to slow down the time. By this time, Drew and Arthur were taking it in turns to sleep on the bunks, and it was Arthur’s turn to sleep and Drew’s turn to keep guard of the hostage.
Continue reading “Blog 21 – The Kidnapping (Chapter 4)”
“Piedro, glad you could join us” said Drew confidently. The falsely tanned Mexican man tilted his head to one side, pulling out his very own hand pistol while stroking it sensually. It was almost as if he loved it more than anything else in the world, like he had known it all his life. The pistol had etchings on the side, which read “Kindness”. He brushed passed both men without a word spoken walking with authority as if he owned the two of them, advancing towards the bunk where he knelt down making a half-smile. “Got him. We finally got him.” chuckled Piedro, wiping away the excess perspiration around his thin mustache, breathing heavily in anger.
Drew swung the blunt end of his firearm at Jason’s already-bruised skull. The sheer impact of the hit, knocked Jason unconscious instantaneously as his barely breathing corpse flopped to the ground. “The Fuck, man?! He wanted him alive. You’re a dead man, Drew!” panicked Arthur, walking over to the half dead body with his hands on his rapidly reddening, usually pale face. Without a word spoken, and no change in expression, Drew picked up the body gently and flung it over his left shoulder effortlessly, almost as if it was a sack of potatoes. He quietly walked over towards the property, with Jason hunched over him, and flicked what was left of the cigar onto the firm, dry, yellowing grass, without acknowledging anything Arthur had just said to him.
The battered and bruised, gun-metal, Chevrolet Malibu came to a sudden halt. It was half past 2 in the morning and the only sound present was the hoarse grunting of the half-working engine, which seemed to be one of a different car. It pulled up just outside the only house in the area, which was a derelict valley, full of tall trees, that seemed to have been neglected for decades on end. The property was so poorly maintained that it was literally a wooden frame, with a set of metal bunks, and a couple o’ mattresses leaning against the wall in the only room. That was it, that was the ‘house’. In the middle of nowhere.