About runningvein

Avatar of runningvein "My pieces comprise, entirely, works of fiction. Some pieces are shorts, others tend to get a little longer. Some are straightforward and may be read evenly, while others can tend to be amorphous. You see, sometimes the writer does his piece completely lucid, sitting straight up and staring intently into it as his fingers simply glide across the keys. Other times his eyes are opaque with tears from imaginary emotions. Sentences, nay, words, barely come out as he stabs at each letter with one trembling finger, like how your mom types. Then there are the times a piece of work is scrawled from a leaking pen on a notepad in a bar after several whiskeys, as the writer gleefully tries to get everything down before the bouncers come over to throw him out for laughing like a crazy person to himself all night. The writer cannot say what is good, or what is bad. He can only write. It does not do for one to rank a piece of his work above others, just as it does not do for one to deign to strive to be published. That must be left to others, to come and ask the writer if they may publish his work, and that all of the work would be copyright (c) him 2000-2009, if they were to do so. Some of the pieces may even seem far too real -- as though he's actually blogging about his real life, his personal thoughts. You know -- because it is a blog, some people may think that may be the case. Well it ain't, damn you, it ain't." The man in the tracksuit shrugged over the counter. "Thanks for the info, Hemingway," he said, "but I just wanted to know where the damn ATM is."
Website: http://trulyeffingoode.blogspot.com/
riverfr0zen has written 68 articles so far, you can find them below.

The Monocle

Morescombe had simply burst out laughing when the candidate walked in. Then, realizing from the man’s quizzical stare, he quickly sucked his breath in and stood up to greet him. “Uh. Here for the interview? Mr. Charles Dayton?”

The man shuffled slowly into his office. He was supporting himself on a sturdy cocabolo wood cane, and looked earnestly at Morescombe from an ornate gold-rimmed monocle as he approached. “Yes sir, I certainly am,” he said, puffing heavily as he finally reached the desk. He was wearing a light brown cashmere sport jacket, and a rather long, broad maroon tie. (more…)

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Ghost Story VI

Their interview was very quick and short, but to Emma, seemed like years. She had argued with her father the whole night after coming back from the stadium, then in the morning he apparently wanted to take her to ‘see some professionals’. “This is just going to explode in your face,” she told him, and he had left the room silently, as he always had when she was being a baby. The silence was supposed to imply finality. And true enough, when they finally met the Wisconsin Paranormal Society, everything had played out just as she expected. It was just two guys getting high on little gadgets and electronics. At least one of them seemed kind of cool — when they were all finally introduced, she had looked directly at Peter, and he had just rolled his eyes. That was kind of cool. Ehud, on the other hand, had made her take a Voight-Kampff test. (more…)

Firing Up on All Cylinders

A challenge was issued to compose a piece about Love. This is one of my entries. This is the love tag for all (my) entries.
—

It was not from merely the door of the hotel room that they had been thrown into in the throes of passion. No. In fact, they had caused so much of a ruckus on that damn plane above it that the pilot himself authorized the opening of a cabin hatch for dispersal.

Strapped together, sharing a single parachute, the crew positioned the couple near the hatch. Everyone was told to leave the area, except the co-pilot, whose duty it would be to man the operation. (more…)

Ghost Story 5

“O.K Nadine, I want to tell you something now, about myself, but I’m afraid to. It could … it could change how you see me entirely.”

Nadine’s eyes swiveled from her busy desk and out from the computer screen, blue and enlarging. “But I can already see you, Peter,” she said.

“I don’t mean the camera,” said Peter, putting his hand over his face, miserably. “You would never have seen something like this just through the Chat.” He was sat on the office chair in a reclined position, leaning as far back as possible, and supported by the server rack. (more…)

Ghost Story Part 4

Porch light was dimmed, and no shadow of the dog. Good sign, thought Harry, stepping out of his car. She usually tied the dog up to the pole at the gate before getting up to bed, so that it would stay awake and ‘guard the house’. He felt kinda sorry for the pooch, but hey, it wasn’t his pet.

He crept into the living room, eyeballs grazing the wall before the couch. It will be empty, it will be empty, he said to himself. “Paper, rock, scissors.”

“What?” said Beatrice, grinding an elbow on a cushion. (more…)

Ghost Story Part 3

Ice from the lemonade came in the way of Harry’s straw and made a louder slurping sound than he had intended. He quickly pulled the straw from his mouth and looked frantically at the other parked car, some hundred feet away on the soccer field.

Night-time spotlights were on, so the girls would totally be able to make him out if they only turned to look. Luckily, it seemed they were … occupied. Something about it pissed him off. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and started tapping away furiously.

“Emma, u thr?” (more…)

Ghost Story Part 2

“Ehud, why don’t you close up here and buy me a calzone?” asked Peter.

“Ok Peter,” said Ehud peering into his CRT, “let me just write back this quick reply to Bobby.”

“You still writing to that kid? How do you find the time?”

Ehud let out a sigh and then went on typing. “It’s hard. I mean, it’s not like I’m being paid for this.” (more…)

Ghost Story Part 1

How little Bobby dealt with the fact that no one liked to hang out with him, was, he would write short letters, time to time, to the Wisconsin Paranormal Society. On occasion, he would get a letter in response, and reading these alone in his bedroom would fill that empty space. (more…)

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