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aliantha
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PostPosted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 12:33 am    Post subject: Two minutes...go! Reply with quote

Deer sent me. Cool

JD Mader is an Indies Unlimited alumnus and an amazing writer. He's started this thing on Friday afternoons on his blog where he invites other writers to come by and write for two minutes on whatever you want to write about, and post it in the comments. The time limit is on the honor system, and he doesn't care if you go over -- which is good, because I always do. Laughing Anybody can join in, so feel free to stop by on a Friday and give it a go. Or maybe we can try something similar here....?

I don't play every week, but here are the last couple that I've done.

***
In the long ago and faraway, there lived a maiden who spent her days tatting lace. All around her fell into disorder as she pursued her obsession: the housework went undone, weeds grew taller than the flowers, the vegetables withered and died. Yet she could not stop. Not for a moment.

Her friends -- the few that were left, for many of them had drifted away -- wondered how she could go on. She never seemed to eat. How did she survive? And where did she get the tatting thread? And where did the tatting go? She had been at it for years, day after day. There should be piles of finished lace by now, they thought, so tall they would block out the sun.

What they didn't know, because she could not tell them, is that she was under a spell -- or maybe just a misapprehension. An old woman had told her that if she just kept working, she would reach the core of the spool, and there she would find her heart's desire. But there was always more thread. Always.

She knew, as she sat and tatted her lace, that she was throwing away her life for what might well be a lie. But she could never bring herself to give up hope.

***
"Share a Diet Coke with Amber," the soda bottle suggested.

Marcy frowned and put it back. Then, almost tentatively, she reached for the bottle again and weighed it in her hand.

"Share a Diet Coke with Amber."

She and Amber had been best pals. They rented adjoining apartments in the same old house. They shared eggs and milk, and secrets, and pans of brownies when a relationship went sour.

Then Amber took up running -- to lose weight, she said, although her weight was already perfect. She ran a lot. She ate almost nothing. She started getting scary thin.

Marcy suggested maybe she should ease up on the running. Amber shut her out. Confused and feeling helpless, Marcy could only watch as her friend got thinner and thinner.

Then one day, Amber's parents came to get her and move her back home. They strong-armed Marcy, saying that Amber needed to get well, and to do that, she needed to stay away from all of her old friends.

"Even the ones who tried to help her?" Marcy asked, but got no answer.

"Share a Diet Coke with Amber."

Marcy took it to the register. Maybe Amber had found one that had Marcy's name on it. Maybe Amber had made it out alive.
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 1:33 pm    Post subject: Re: Two minutes...go! Reply with quote

aliantha wrote:

***
In the long ago and faraway, there lived a maiden who spent her days tatting lace. All around her fell into disorder as she pursued her obsession: the housework went undone, weeds grew taller than the flowers, the vegetables withered and died. Yet she could not stop. Not for a moment.

Her friends -- the few that were left, for many of them had drifted away -- wondered how she could go on. She never seemed to eat. How did she survive? And where did she get the tatting thread? And where did the tatting go? She had been at it for years, day after day. There should be piles of finished lace by now, they thought, so tall they would block out the sun.

What they didn't know, because she could not tell them, is that she was under a spell -- or maybe just a misapprehension. An old woman had told her that if she just kept working, she would reach the core of the spool, and there she would find her heart's desire. But there was always more thread. Always.

She knew, as she sat and tatted her lace, that she was throwing away her life for what might well be a lie. But she could never bring herself to give up hope.

***.
All I can say is ............damn! Who let you in my house? Who let you in my head? hope is a scary thing.
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 2:56 pm    Post subject: Re: Two minutes...go! Reply with quote

lorin wrote:
aliantha wrote:

***
In the long ago and faraway, there lived a maiden who spent her days tatting lace. All around her fell into disorder as she pursued her obsession: the housework went undone, weeds grew taller than the flowers, the vegetables withered and died. Yet she could not stop. Not for a moment.

Her friends -- the few that were left, for many of them had drifted away -- wondered how she could go on. She never seemed to eat. How did she survive? And where did she get the tatting thread? And where did the tatting go? She had been at it for years, day after day. There should be piles of finished lace by now, they thought, so tall they would block out the sun.

What they didn't know, because she could not tell them, is that she was under a spell -- or maybe just a misapprehension. An old woman had told her that if she just kept working, she would reach the core of the spool, and there she would find her heart's desire. But there was always more thread. Always.

She knew, as she sat and tatted her lace, that she was throwing away her life for what might well be a lie. But she could never bring herself to give up hope.

***.
All I can say is ............damn! Who let you in my house? Who let you in my head? hope is a scary thing.

Smile

Somebody in the comments at Dan's blog suggested that I was writing about writing. And that is, in fact, what I sort of had in mind when I started it. But by the end of it, it seemed to be about something else, although I'm still not sure what. Laughing
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 3:06 pm    Post subject: Re: Two minutes...go! Reply with quote

aliantha wrote:
lorin wrote:
aliantha wrote:

***
In the long ago and faraway, there lived a maiden who spent her days tatting lace. All around her fell into disorder as she pursued her obsession: the housework went undone, weeds grew taller than the flowers, the vegetables withered and died. Yet she could not stop. Not for a moment.

Her friends -- the few that were left, for many of them had drifted away -- wondered how she could go on. She never seemed to eat. How did she survive? And where did she get the tatting thread? And where did the tatting go? She had been at it for years, day after day. There should be piles of finished lace by now, they thought, so tall they would block out the sun.

What they didn't know, because she could not tell them, is that she was under a spell -- or maybe just a misapprehension. An old woman had told her that if she just kept working, she would reach the core of the spool, and there she would find her heart's desire. But there was always more thread. Always.

She knew, as she sat and tatted her lace, that she was throwing away her life for what might well be a lie. But she could never bring herself to give up hope.

***.
All I can say is ............damn! Who let you in my house? Who let you in my head? hope is a scary thing.

Smile

Somebody in the comments at Dan's blog suggested that I was writing about writing. And that is, in fact, what I sort of had in mind when I started it. But by the end of it, it seemed to be about something else, although I'm still not sure what. Laughing
Yep, I see the writing but for me it's about the possibility of a relationship, or maybe a family. For me it could be about that job I just left, so invested in and so hopeless.
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 3:46 pm    Post subject: Re: Two minutes...go! Reply with quote

lorin wrote:
aliantha wrote:
lorin wrote:
aliantha wrote:

***
In the long ago and faraway, there lived a maiden who spent her days tatting lace. All around her fell into disorder as she pursued her obsession: the housework went undone, weeds grew taller than the flowers, the vegetables withered and died. Yet she could not stop. Not for a moment.

Her friends -- the few that were left, for many of them had drifted away -- wondered how she could go on. She never seemed to eat. How did she survive? And where did she get the tatting thread? And where did the tatting go? She had been at it for years, day after day. There should be piles of finished lace by now, they thought, so tall they would block out the sun.

What they didn't know, because she could not tell them, is that she was under a spell -- or maybe just a misapprehension. An old woman had told her that if she just kept working, she would reach the core of the spool, and there she would find her heart's desire. But there was always more thread. Always.

She knew, as she sat and tatted her lace, that she was throwing away her life for what might well be a lie. But she could never bring herself to give up hope.

***.
All I can say is ............damn! Who let you in my house? Who let you in my head? hope is a scary thing.

Smile

Somebody in the comments at Dan's blog suggested that I was writing about writing. And that is, in fact, what I sort of had in mind when I started it. But by the end of it, it seemed to be about something else, although I'm still not sure what. Laughing
Yep, I see the writing but for me it's about the possibility of a relationship, or maybe a family. For me it could be about that job I just left, so invested in and so hopeless.

Yeah. Maybe it's about obsession in general. Hope can be insidious sometimes.

The second piece is only slightly fictionalized. (I was Marcy, in case anyone's worried. Wink )
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 7:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

It was way too early for the alarm to go off. It wasn't even light, dammit, but there it went. Sylvia slapped her phone to turn off the alarm and dragged herself to the bathroom sink for a splash.
The face in the mirror was someone else. Not just older looking, tired or otherwise the reflection she would rather not have faced in the morning; the hair was long and black, not brown; and the nose more prominent and the skin a paler, pinker shade and the chin creased with age.
Crap.
Must have coffee.
She turned herself toward the kitchen, and saw the light was already on. Stan must be making the coffee... she entered the kitchen, and it wasn't Stan.

***

That's all I got in 2 minutes. Fun stuff, Ali!! Can we get some more?
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 12:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good stuff, Deer! Smile So did Sylvia morph into someone else's body, or...? (Want more! Smile )

Happy to put more here. And thanks for the sticky! Smile Everybody's welcome to play. Smile I was kind of hoping we could turn this into a Watch thing, in fact.

Here's mine from last week. I did it at the last minute at work on Friday. Cool

***
Ticking down the minutes...the seconds...almost quitting time. On a Friday in August, no less.

He kicks back in his chair and glances around the empty office. Last man standing. Well, sitting. Everybody else is on vacation or gone for the day.

The phone rings. He ignores it. Who's going to know? Nobody's here.

He lives for the tail-ends of days like this, when the work is done and there's nothing left but to watch the clock run out. He could leave now -- who would know? -- but he lingers a moment longer, closing his eyes and savoring the stillness. Appreciating the calm. Readying himself mentally for what he faces when he gets home.

The clock ticks past quitting time. Still he sits. Another minute. Two.

Home can wait. He's on his own time now.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 12:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

OK, I'll take a turn:

***

Sitting at his desk and staring at the phone, Ryan contemplated another dull day in the drab office that so much of his time was spent at these days. The amount of work assigned to him seemed to increase every week, and there was nothing in sight in the way of a pay raise.

As he watched the time on his phone change to 10am he got up from his desk to follow his usual morning 10am ritual - mid-morning coffee followed by a trip to the bathroom, then a walk down the long corridor behind his desk that led to the office storage area.

Most of the storage area was rooms with office supplies, boxes, etc. but at the very end of the corridor was a door that led to a room that everyone avoided.

He stood with slight trepidation at the door and told himself that he had done this hundreds of times before. His palms were sweaty with anticipation, but he steeled himself and grasped the door knob and turned it.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 12:29 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ooooh. What's behind that door? Smile

Also, if I wasn't clear above...if you get to two minutes and you're on a roll, you can keep going. I always do. Wink
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 1:27 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh if you give me beyond two minutes it could be pages long. Maybe I'll add another two minutes later today.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 4:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The next installment (this did make me overrun the 2 minutes)

***

Quickly opening the door and squeezing through a gap barely large enough to prevent him from ripping the buttons of the front of his shirt, Ryan entered the room and closed the door carefully. It wasn't until the door was entirely closed that he fumbled around for the light switch.

The fluorescent lights flickered on, and Ryan immediately moved to the back of the room down a narrow gap between the ends of the green metal storage shelves that had seen better days. A quick glance over his shoulder allayed his fear that someone may have followed him, but as was always the case, he was alone in the room.

How he wished that this room had a lock on the door! He had even thought of bribing the night guard of the building to let him in one night so that he could remove the old door handle and replace it with one that had a lock on it. He would be the sole key holder and no one could disturb him when he was in the room alone! No one would have to know that the door even locked if he kept it unlocked while he wasn't in here.

Now that he was behind the set of shelves farthest from the door, he sat down on the thin industrial carpet that covered the floors in the building. Behind these shelves he could not be seen from the door, and he recited to himself the calculations that he had performed many times before he had done what he was about to do today. Two seconds to wonder why the light was already on, and at least seven seconds to get to the end of the shelves where he sat - plenty of time to cover up his activities.

One final glance at the shelves to be sure that none of the packing he had placed between boxes and the tops of shelves to block all sight lines from the door had moved, and he was ready to begin.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 4:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm even more intrigued... Smile
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 4:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

aliantha wrote:
I'm even more intrigued... Smile

I'll have another 2 minute sprint a little later Very Happy
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 5:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Rubbing his hands together gleefully, Ryan relaxed as it sank in that he was now alone and out of sight of his office coworkers.

Before he had even separated his hands he was interrupted by the door to the room opening. He froze in fear of discovery, and sat completely still, hoping he wouldn't be heard.

"What the hell? Does no one remember to turn lights off around here?"

He recognized the voice of Mary Spaulding, a woman who he had never really go on with, and certainly someone he didn't want to be discovered by.

Sitting as quietly as he could, he imagined her movements around the room as he heard her soft footfall on the carpeted floor. She had not moved far from the door and he heard her moving some smaller boxes. Instantly he relaxed a little from his over-tensed position, as it sounded as if she was not going to come all the way to the back of the room.

Her grunt of satisfaction and the noise of a box being slid back on the shelf suggested that she had found what she had come to look for. In a few moments she would be closing the door and leaving him in peace again.

Sure enough, he heard her take a few short steps and open the door again, but as she walked through the doorway she turned off the light and then closed the door noisily.

He rested his left elbow on his left knee and put his head in his hand. Now he had to find his way quietly back to the door and turn the light on again.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 6:04 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

...and there's more...

***

Putting his hand on the wall to his left and leaning on it, he kept himself away from anything he couldn't see that might be protruding from the shelves to his right. When he got to the end of the wall, he turned right and moved even more slowly to avoid banging into the ends of the rows of shelves to his right.

Within a few minutes he had turned the light on again, and he returned to where he had previously ensconced himself at the back of the room. It took a minute for him to feel relaxed enough to continue, but he quickly gazed at his watch - it was already ten minutes past ten - he had wasted too much time and wanted to make sure he didn't spend too much time away from his desk.

Now that time was on his mind, he acted more quickly. He carefully pulled out a box from the bottom row of the shelves he was sat next to, and took opened it. On top were the two ring binders that he had placed there, so he took them out and reached in for the smaller box that he had hidden underneath.

Taking the smaller box out carefully, he placed it on the floor then moved the bigger box and ring binders out of his way.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 6:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

...and now I'm wondering what's in that smaller box...
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 7:41 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

You will have to wait - the two minutes (and a little more) is up...

***

In the three months that Mary Spaulding had worked for the company, more than any other task she hated going into the storeroom at the far end of the office. It felt like an abandoned place that had been abandoned for a good reason, and as if to bear that out, it was used to store only those things that people seldom had a use for.

Today had been one of those days that she had that feeling of being watched, or of there being a presence in the room. It had happened one other morning a few weeks ago, but today the fact that the light was already on in the room had caused her to speak out loud in case someone was already in the room.

She tried to tell herself that she was just being paranoid, but this morning she just couldn't shake off the feeling of there being something really creepy about the room.

Five minutes had passed, and she simply couldn't stand it any longer. She was being ridiculous by thinking there was anything that bad in the room, so she stood up, tugged down her skirt to take the creases out, and marched back to the corridor.

As she approached the room her pace slowed and she tried to keep her footfalls light. At the door she paused, ready to open it quickly but as she looked down towards the floor, she noticed that the light in the room was on again. She was certain that she had turned it off.

Pulling herself up to her full height, she gently grasped the door knob and slowly turned it.
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 8:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Mary peeped in through the narrow crack in the door, but could see nothing. She was about to step into the room, but paused to slip out of her shoes before entering as quietly as she could.

Fearing that someone might discover her furtive creeping, she quietly closed the door, taking care that she released the knob slowly. Looking around she saw that no one was on this side of the room, but had that same feeling of being watched.

In order to look down the aisles created by the various sets of shelves, she had to walk down the narrow space at one end of the rows of shelves. She slowly moved her head around the first one so that she could see, but there was nothing more interesting than rows of cardboard boxes and some old box folders.

Her sense of being watched increased, even though there was no one there, but she felt impelled to go on.

When she had looked around all but the last set of shelves, she felt torn between looking and heading back to the door. She steeled herself and started moving her head to a position where she could see around the final corner.
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PostPosted: Fri Aug 29, 2014 5:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

OK, going to finish it here.

***

Ryan sat in the corner holding the elaborately surfaced cube that he had taken from the box, and waited for the woman who had come into the room earlier to return. He was glad that she had not discovered him before he was ready, but the suggestion he had telepathically implanted into her brain meant that she would return soon.

As expected, he eventually heard the low sounds of the door being opened and closed carefully, although he couldn't really hear footfalls on the carpet after that. He knew that she must be approaching, and after a short time he could hear the occasional sound made by her clothes brushing past the ends of shelves.

When he eventually saw her eye appear around the final corner, he activated the cube and watched with satisfaction as the top of her head elongated towards the box, and the rest of her body followed in a long, stretched-out stream of flesh and clothing. When she was completely in the box, he deactivated it and placed it back in its hiding place.

As he left the room, he picked up the discarded pair of shoes and placed them in the trash can in the adjacent storage area; and then he returned to his desk.

Stupid humans! It was so easy to capture them. The company would just chalk this one up to another temp who grew bored of the office and just left part way through the day. He would wait for the next one to be assigned to the office, and then begin preparations for capturing the next one...
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 30, 2014 3:08 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

LOL! Not where I expected that to go at all.

I meant to play at Dan's blog yesterday, but I had actual work to do at work (I hate when that happens...) and never made it. Sad
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