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Internet Writings #4

Internet Writings #4

This next piece I wrote on my little razzle dazzle phone (I know, it was the coolest phone) during the night drive home from the movies. I would always stare outside of the vehicle looking into the sky. It always seemed normal to me looking into the sky staring at the stars, but that not, it was a bit different. There was heat lightning and it made me think, and that is how I got to write this piece. 

"Life Without You"
A life without you,
let's think about it.

Waves occur because of the moon,
Thunder occurs because of lightning.
Wars occur from differences,
Offspring occur from reproduction.

My life continues because of you,
without you,
is like talking about a universe that doesn't exist.

There would be no waves without that moon.
There wouldn't be any thunder for kids to count between for distance without that beam from Zeus.
There would be no difference,
which makes war occur.
Offspring would not be made, only skipped
because my life without you, is like a world that does not exist

This next piece was my first scy-fy piece. It takes place in a world where everyone only has a certain amount of time allotted for them to live. It is much like that Justin Timberlake movie, but I swear that this was written beforehand. I have wanted to revisit this universe for a long time and now that I've found it, I think I can do so. I do wish to share the original piece. 

Everyone in this universe lives for a certain amount of time from birth. Once their 'day' comes, they have multiple options, they could be murdered, commit suicide, or be in a terrible accident. Some of the options can blend, but most people decide to use the suicide pill given to them at birth. 

Without further ado, 

Today, the Day

Rumbling from the thunder awakes Damien from his slumber. Today is his day. Lightning flashes through the curtains revealing his face for a short second. Creases from his sleep still remain on his face.

            Stumbling to his feet, Damien exits his room to the hallway. Cool air rushes by him as he opens the door. A shiver runs through the body. Shuffling his feet towards the bathroom, he passes the voicemail box. He taps it, it begins, “You have two unread messages. Message one, August twenty-seventh, nine forty-seven pm: Hello Damien, we are glad to remind you that your day is this Saturday, the thirtieth. We know that you have decided for accidental suicide, but we can make your death more enjoyable with these other options—.” Damien closes the bathroom door, draining away the noise coming from the voicemail box.

            The light turns on automatically. Damien walks towards the window that stretches across the wall and looks at his reflection. Well today is my day; might as well go looking good. The shower begins from voice recognition. The room started to gain steam, but the central air fan sucked the steam away almost as fast as it was produced. Damien flushes the toilet, undresses and steps into the shower. Sometimes I wonder why I kept myself going, I could’ve ended it when she did.

            Water stops coming from the shower head when he called out, “stop shower.” Maybe it won’t be so bad. Taking a step out of the shower, his foot slips from under him, but he stays upright by catching himself against the shower wall. He gingerly steps out and grab his towel from the toilet seat. He opens the bathroom door; “—well those are our options. Please take them into consideration. End of message one.” How many other options are there? “Erase.” “Message erased. End of new message. Message two: Hey Damien, it is I. I call to say that this is my day; I really hope that you will be there when I go. I would really like it and appreciate it if you would come with me, but I know that your day isn’t for another year. Sometimes I wish that I didn’t fall in love with you so this wouldn’t be so difficult for me to handle. Please meet me under the star, where we first kissed. I love you, don’t ever forget me.” I should have listened to her. Tears are streaming down Damien’s face. “Erase.” He said regretfully. “Message erased. End of saved messages.” The box shut down. Damien quickly got himself dressed. He then left his place with the lights slowly dying out. Goodbye. He set out. His day had then passed with no return of Damien. 

Weekend Writings #7

Weekend Writings #7

Internet Writings #3

Internet Writings #3