October 26th 2008
To Whom It May Concern:
I am only writing this little piece right chya, here on face book. That being said I apologize for error, and if you can help a brother out with some editing lol. This story is a project that I am doing for a Creative Spirit class I'm took with Doug Wier (sp), the writer of the hit play In Conflict, here at Temple. I'm hoping that this helps me get passed a massive writers block I've had. In this class I've been keeping a pretty detailed journal of my life, and I've been asked to listen, look around, smell, and taste with a little more care. This project is going to be parts to a story. I don't know if it's a short story, a novel, a trilogy, an epic poem, novella, or a vignette. It's just...a story lol. Thank you to everyone who supports me in my endeavors. I like to give a shout out to my little sister Shay whose new to face book. "What, what." May you use its powers for good.
Now without further ado I present Silhouette:
To Whom It May Concern:
I am only writing this little piece right chya, here on face book. That being said I apologize for error, and if you can help a brother out with some editing lol. This story is a project that I am doing for a Creative Spirit class I'm took with Doug Wier (sp), the writer of the hit play In Conflict, here at Temple. I'm hoping that this helps me get passed a massive writers block I've had. In this class I've been keeping a pretty detailed journal of my life, and I've been asked to listen, look around, smell, and taste with a little more care. This project is going to be parts to a story. I don't know if it's a short story, a novel, a trilogy, an epic poem, novella, or a vignette. It's just...a story lol. Thank you to everyone who supports me in my endeavors. I like to give a shout out to my little sister Shay whose new to face book. "What, what." May you use its powers for good.
Now without further ado I present Silhouette:
The light from the new moon shines brightly into the window of the dark bedroom. Two eyes stare intensely at a glowing screen, darting back and forth, as if following a game of table tennis. Delete.
"What are you doing over their?" an airy voice breaths light. The two eyes momentarily leave the screen to stare off in space, and he smiles.
"Checking my mail."
Delete. His eyes return to their back and forth.
"Did you hear about the congressman from the upper ward?" he asks politely.
"No what happened?" She inquires.
"He's in the hospital, skiing accident." He responds, he clicks through the tabs that he has up on the screen.
"I miss skiing," she rolls back onto the couch playfully. She curls up backwards into the sleek leather sofa. She looks at the living room upside down. A lot of brown, she thought. Her favorite part was the bookcase she decided. It was the only thing that was noble. Everything else, had to be for show: The LCD screen, the aquarium, even the sofa. She was a lioness, in a lion's den. She knew she was playing in the garden of his turbulence.
"So do I," he says slyly.
She kneels forward slowly peeking above the back of the Sofa. Her hands are clenching the top of the sofa, and a pillow is crushed in between her stomach and the back cushion. Her brown hair fell over the side of her face and down her back to her shoulder. She always liked to view him from behind the couch. It was safe, it was his couch, but there was still something between them. Like the couch could protect her from him. It made her feel small, and somehow that made her feel powerful.
"You ski?" she asks incredulously.
There's no way he can ski is what she doesn't say. She tries to imagine Anderson in a ski suit. It wouldn't work. His powerful hands couldn't be confined to mitts, he would look awkward and bulky in a hood. But who was she kidding. She knew somehow he always managed to look natural. He would look more natural in a costume than anyone who'd ever had the profession. After all he was Anderson Hall.
"No, but I miss it." Delete. Delete. She smiles, as he continues at the computer. She looks at his cold face. His lips are taut and his eyes move with certainty. She liked the sharp outline of his jaw, and the way it lay against his collar.
"Have you ever gone?"
"Yes, my cousin's grandparents owned a few homes in gated community in the Poconos Mountains. We occasionally would go for a get away."
"I should have guessed it would be something elaborate like that."
"Elaborate?" His voice flared but not in anger. The consistent tap of the mouse clicking stops a bit. She likes that she has him thinking.
"Yes, elaborate. You know complex, complicated." Her lips mouthed the words and blew them across the room.
"Yeah, I know what the word means, but what do you mean?"
He pressed the button on the mouse firmly. Music started to play softly in the background. He typed expediently for a moment. A cold breeze came in with the moonlight, and sent a chill down her spine.
"I mean you're always so Anderson, I don't know, your life has a kind of poetic, grandiose factor to it sometimes, you wouldn't say." She delivered her words with giggles and laughs but he knew she was serious.
"If he believes enough a man can do anything"
"If he believes enough a man can do anything" she mocked, playfully. She laid back on the sofa arm and pillows and looked up at the ceiling chandelier ensemble. It was still She giggled some more as she cuddle with the pillow. She felt delightfully lazy. A feeling of exuberance washed over her. Lion's den she thought as she continue to scan around.
"You've made your point." Anderson smiled, "I am a bit elaborate."
"What of the young men we saw today."
"Delilah..."
"Don't you 'Delilah me', Anderson. What of the young men we saw today?"
"I told you that I will not discuss business with you."
"Well can you at least tell me if they got what they needed. The little fat fellow seemed very antsy and anxious."
"Who Allen?" Anderson laughed. "Allen has been weighed, measured and found wanting for quite some time now. I wouldn't be surprised if he stayed anxious till he sees the Good Lord."
She intakes his hearty laugh and shoots him back a stern glare. He's a lion, she thinks as she speaks.
"Do you ever show mercy?"
"Mercy is for the weak."
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