Escapism

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Writing stories has been a tough thing for me to do as of late. I know I’ve been rather quiet over the last few months, but I’m working my way back into the writing  scene.

But I haven’t worked on my novel. None, at all. Mostly, I have been stuck. The story is there, but to make progress I’m having trouble with the chapter I’m on. So what I’m hoping is that writing other stories will help me get my groove back in that book.

Today’s work in progress is interesting. It’s a mix of escapism and suspense. So far, I’m liking the direction and can’t wait to see how it all unfolds. But I have been thinking that it might be a story that I’ll edit through and submit to magazines instead of posting on my blog. I wanted to be a published writer before the end of last year, and I completely blew it. So my goal is to publish this year and start working towards regular posting habits.

Anyways, I’ll post a little snippet from this story below. It’s far from finished but I’d like to see what people think of it so far.

Deep darkness, deeper water surrounds a single diver. His fins flip back and forth, keeping him steady in one spot as he orientates himself. Little luminance guides him, a single beam that cuts through only five feet of the murky deep. Below him, another ten yards, lain the wreckage of a once grand ship.

Bubbles spewed upwards from his mouthpiece, his golden green eyes fixated on the beautiful carnage. From aft to stern, the full metal boat to fantasy had. grown over in seaweed and long stems. The port side was most visible to him, large wings having crumbled to the sea floor in strange, clunky patterns. He forced himself downwards and forwards, finally feeling ready to view what majesty had been lost to a time lost long ago.

There was a bulkhead opening about midship, but the moss and weeds had nearly engulfed it. He reached behind, plucking a long thin blade from its holster on his belt, and began sawing through. Each cut, each pull, brought the portal to the ship’s compartments ever closer to his reach. With one last slice, he opened is path inside, barely squeezing through the tangled mess of greenery.

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Faded

Today, I faded.

Fell, more like, as if my body no longer kept my soul. It fell to the ground, a sharp crack as the neck snapped from the sudden impact. I wanted to stand there. I wanted to believe that it couldn’t have happened the way it did.

But it did.

And here I slip, as the world goes grey around me. Thoughts became fleeting things, no longer bound by will or the need to conserve precious resources. Memories abound of my life, of things I had forgotten or things that had never seemed quite right. And then, nothing spun. Nothing moved, not even my thoughts. I stood stock still in black twilight, void of feeling, of remorse or love. Everything was gone. And I hoped that, soon, I would be gone too.

I heard a whimper, a whispered moan of sorrow. It enveloped me, pulling my limited existence in all directions until I stood behind the source. What had only been moments had been days, at the least, as I saw my mother crying before a casket in a dark room. I could hear her voice call my name, giving me my memories of her back as if they had never left. I felt sorry. I wished to have been able to console her, to hold her in my arms and tell her that it would be okay.

But soon the sobbing stopped, and I lost track of everything around me.

That was the day I faded, pulled beneath death’s wing, to never know what else I could have been.