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| Xeogaming Forums - Story Realm - A Gramatically Correct Trip |
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AlpoRaggins Troubadour Not so much dead.         Since: 12-11-04 From: Someday, Somewhere, Over the Rainbow Since last post: 6612 days Last activity: 6502 days |
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| This is a really short story I had to write for English class in the beginning of the year. A salute goes out ot HoboConductor who helped with the brainstorming process. It's moderatly trippy, but clean enough for school I guess. Brownie points to whoever can name the song the man is singing in the story.
Struck at 12:00, the clock shattered, triggered by the man・s foot who stepped into the room. Blind with sleep, he failed to notice the broken glass of the clock turn to geese and fly through his wall, leaving a downy pillow to rest his head upon. Falling face first, he hit the bed and then the air again. Down, beneath the bed, the floor, phasing through a black, resembling the color below his eyes. He never hit solidity but began walking, with headlight eyes cutting beams of yellow and dust through the sleepy fog. Blinking he found a man crawl from beneath his eyes from his mind and out into the field before him. It danced; he wanted to dance, but alas couldn・t reach the clownish man, his feet running, legs pumping, ground slipping backwards. The clown taunted him. A wished-up bludgeon slipped from his head and went flying towards the skipping shadow. Upon impact the fool stopped, feet leaving the ground and its body turning to a billion needles. Hitting the ground they melted to a black puddle. The man could walk again; shining his eyes on the puddle, cockroaches scattered from the area and climbed the horizon. The horizon, that was once black, became covered in these insects, but the man didn・t care. He kept walking, and realized they simply made a blockade. He opened a buggy door and stepped inside a new room, clean and bugless. With one step the ground turned a dim purple, another it turned red. The shoes, which belonged to the man, smiled and let its laces fly. Guiding him they tapped along the room, creating a full spectrum of floors but with one strong tap the floor shattered and he fell to a lower area. The sphere that was the little neighborhood world he was in turned to a discotheque, with kaleidoscope skies and pastures of prism-like grass. He stepped, ：OW!； yelled his shoes, pained by the fall. Mr. Jamal Left and Mrs. Dorothy Right were his two shoes who he loved to death and couldn・t bear to see in pain. He took them by the laces and flung them out as far as he could throw. Taking flight they flew away, waving farewell back to the man, who did the same gesture as he walked barefoot along the glass meadows. His feet did not bleed, because the glass wasn・t sharp, but it crunched as if it were. He tripped over an arrow, intricate and godly, lying in the field. It pointed to a giant number twelve. Although miles from it, the man could see a tower of clockwork, exposed in the front; a cross section of time. He kicked the hand and it began to rotate, counterclockwise. Slowly it moved, gaining just enough momentum for the man to not notice. Running wildly, the man made his way to the clock. As time passed he became more tired, so he went from a sprint to a healthy run. After much more time, his body began to feel heavy; looking up at the psychedelic skies, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. Upon making it to the clock, he bent, hands on his knees. A clump of hair fell from his head. He pulled and much more came off. Without bothering to wonder why this happened, he began to climb the giant clock. He didn・t quite know why he did this either; there was no where else to go, he concluded. The dead cogs shifted below his feet like a treadmill. He got far enough to see the minute hand in the belfry of the tower. The hour hand had been missing, the arrow that had fallen onto the field. He couldn・t see from where he stood, but it had still been spinning on the ground; the minute hand had been too, at an abnormally fast pace. ：One minute one, one minute two, one minute up and one minute down,； counted the man, remembering the lyrics from one of his favorite songs. He grasped at his throat: this wasn・t his velvet voice he sang those same words with just hours before. Old and hoarse, it stayed quite inside him; he didn・t want to hear himself. He looked into a piece of the glass that hadn・t shattered off. Older, older, oldest, his legs gave way and turned to dust. The hour hand still turned. With a breeze his ashes floated to the clocks face and were sent flying over the fields as he hit the fan-like minute hand. Reading 12:00 once again, years later, the hand kept spinning, and the skies kept flashing. But despite the speed of time, the man aged no more as he landed on the glassy fields. And taking his final resting spot there, he was once again kicked into the air by his freed shoes who danced all over his grave. |
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Elara Divine Mamkute Dark Elf Goddess Chaos Imp Penguins Fan Ms. Invisable  Since: 08-15-04 From: Ferelden Since last post: 99 days Last activity: 99 days |
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| Interesting... some of the puctuations came out really odd, but that is cool. Huge paragraph though, made it challenging to read without my glasses on. I have no idea what the song is though... sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it. | |||
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Rauni Since: 08-14-04 Since last post: 1545 days Last activity: 1545 days |
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| It is kinda hard to read when you crumble everything together and I lost the position when I reading this story...
As for the music, I never listen to a lot of modern music. So I can't really guess on the song either. |
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AlpoRaggins Troubadour Not so much dead. Since: 12-11-04 From: Someday, Somewhere, Over the Rainbow Since last post: 6612 days Last activity: 6502 days |
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| Oh yeah. The idea of the assignment this was used for was to use a certain set amount of grammar rules in the story (this was about the only one in the class that used all of the rules on the list the teacher provided). I was sorta writing around that. Thats why I called it "A Grammatically Correct Trip"
The song is "What Goes On" by the Velvet Underground |
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