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:icontimmythemule: More from timmythemule


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August 18, 2007
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Three months ago my wife died. Lung cancer, 50 a day, even with all these damn health warnings. Perhaps she just chose to ignore them, the habit filling something inside her that, evidently, I failed to. Or perhaps she was just wiser than the rest of us, trying to kill herself off without actually committing suicide. Just so she didn’t have to deal with this earth as it slipped steadily back into the dark ages. I guess it makes sense, I mean who the fuck would want to stay on this shithole planet with the cracks in the concrete slowly widening, voices spilling out, reminding us of our atrocities. Just turn the music up. Perhaps because people just want to fucking whinge. That’s the only reason I can think of for staying alive, with the world going the way it is.

We had the funeral in Spain, her favourite country. A small town, tiny really, just a few hundred houses scattered amongst the cliff faces, the bay making a tight C between the land. The mosquitoes were biting that night; attracted by the candles blowing in the wind on top of the cliff, looking out over the ocean, such a small congregation. The guests slapped at invisible irritants as they delivered their empty words, all wrapped up in the complimentary black ribbon, shuffling uncomfortably on the little stage, the white canvas billowing behind them and almost sighing with relief when their turn was over, eyes wide, just like scared little children. Pass the bat, we got a shitkickin’ home run. Glad to be rid of an invisible, unbearable something. Glad to be out of the limelight. After the funeral I tried to replace my misery with drink, and failed, miserably.

The next day, at sunset, having worked off my hangover, I went back up to the cliff top, her favourite ribbon in my hand. It used to be her mother’s. She passed it down when we had married, saying ‘This will bond you two forever, and you must pass it to your child, just as my mother passed it to me when I was wed’. We had never had any children, not in all of our twenty five years together. I reached the edge of the cliff, small stones tumbling down into the churning waters, the ribbon flapping loosely in my hand.  The sun spat an orange and pink glow over the sea, a few anorexic clouds fumbling across the horizon, distant tears in an eye. I held my hand up to the breeze, the ribbon flapping against my fingers. I uncurled them slowly, the ribbon, finally gaining freedom, soared out to sea, dancing sweet pirouettes as the sun slinked behind the horizon, the world closing its lids to a life it would never know.
I started out writing this with a different intention, but this is what came. I quite like it.

Anyway, tell me what you think.
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:iconeightoutside:
eightoutside Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2007   Traditional Artist
This is cool too, especially the last line of the second paragraph. I don't know how you write short parts of what could be much bigger pieces but I quite like it too :)
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:icontimmythemule:
timmythemule Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2007
Well, i pretty much just write pieces that could be expanded upon, i never intend for them to be a certain lenght, but if they're longer then so be it. I like the last line best too.
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:iconeightoutside:
eightoutside Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2007   Traditional Artist
That's what I mean, I have such trouble just starting, I always think 'well how did that person get to that place and time' I guess the background always catches me.
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:icontimmythemule:
timmythemule Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2007
Ah, the joys of back story...

You should only keep in stuff that is relevant to the curent situation though, its not as if you ask people in real life wether they fell down a well the summer of their fifth birthday, you find it out later, if its relevant. History is good for characters too, you just have to know when to include it to give the story a richer layer of detail. So i pretty much just concentrate on the situations/actions/behaviours of the present and let the characters tell me their past if/when they want to. :)
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:iconeightoutside:
eightoutside Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2007   Traditional Artist
You're right of course, I think my problem is I really dislike it when a writer suddenly mentios something from the past which conveniently helps explain the present. Reading Robinson Crusoe made me made me dislike that, like there's a bit when he's saying as the narrator something like 'I forgot to mention that there were several cats from the shipwreck which now lived wild on the island.' and as the reader I just think 'oh really, several cats huh? that's useful for the next bit then...' Obviously that's a pretty extreme example and there's a lot of middleground between mentioning everything and leaving important details until they're needed.
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:icondyrwen:
dyrwen Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2007  Hobbyist Writer
Wonderful final set of lines there.
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:icontimmythemule:
timmythemule Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2007
and for the fave :D
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:icontimmythemule:
timmythemule Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2007
Thanks :)
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:iconparan0ir:
paran0ir Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2007
I think you said it all.

It's lovely.
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:icontimmythemule:
timmythemule Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2007
I'm glad you like it :)

I had a different direction when i started it, but i let it lead mer where it wanted to go. I think it turned out pretty good because of it :)
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