Falling Down (flashfic) - Part 1
Hmmm...what to write?
I remember always having ideas :( This is why you shouldn't get 'out of practice' in those nice little habits you're trying to build.
[entry code: FlashFic]
Well, let's force a story...a sort of flash-fic, I suppose. I was considering writing a short-story version here of my fanfic, but then I have to give some detail on that fic and...well...fanfics are embarrassing. For everyone involved. Seriously. I'm sure I've embarrassed many people already, and this particular fic hasn't even been uploaded.
These flash-fics scare me though. I remember the one I wrote about a turtle and...well, I think the tone was okay, but there wasn't actually a story. And that's the real sacrifice - how do you fit a story in something so small?
How 'bout I start with one of my reoccurring fantasies? - oh, don't worry. It's not 'that' sorta thing. I have this habit where, during down-time (waking up, going to sleep, random moments in the day when I can sit back and don't feel like I should get up and do something), I have some ...ideas I want to follow, of what 'could' happen and what I'd do in response and...well, check it out:
...
One day, everything changed. With me unaware.
Literally, no awareness. One moment, non-REM sleep; the next, I feel the world around me crumble.
Again, literally.
And I couldn't think of anything except "stop...I want to sleep...or, to stop dreaming..."
Spent those warped-sense of seconds merely taking stock and finding none.
There was an absence of pressure beneath me, of holding me up - yet I could still feel the bed there; there was a shifting of cloth as I lazily tumbled about; there was an odd collection of sounds, a sort of rushing, a fuzz, a ..well...no, I really couldn't pick up anything definite, except it's novelty and...familiarity? As if the context was all wrong -
And it was. This feeling, not-unlike the dreams one often has, not-unlike riding in a descending airplane, was very-much unlike any experiences I've had in my bedroom before.
The sounds became quite a bit more distinct when gravity found me again. Or rather, as my sense of gravity was re-asserted - I very soon confirmed that gravity was the immediate cause of this whole experience.
Loud, jarring noises, splinters, muffled-yet-pronounced cries of pain, and a look beneath my sheets found the room had snapped like a pencil.
As in, with jagged edges holding the peices together.
[insert research into the making of your average apartment, and how those ingredients would likely shape themselves if they were, say, dropped ten storie]
I lived on the tenth floor. Now, if I chose to stay, I'd wager I would live on the...fourth? It was hard to judge from the view of the "window." Somehow the window had shrunk; peices of wall and furniture from below must have obfiscated my view. and above...well...that was a bit of luck, wasn't it? Currently, the ceiling sagged dangerously above me, and had fallen in at the entrance of my room - but overall, being on the top floor had been a boon; I couldn't imagine how those below me faired. Seriously. I still have a rather strong mental-block about what was possibly directly under my bed and floor.
The floor had splintered into three panes, and after asserting my existing and intuiting that I was probably in shock and should get moving, I mentally shifted my priorities from getting back to that beautiful, dreamless state to navigating my way to the safest location within the room. Nothing was moving now, but since I had no idea how everything had been moved in the first place, I needed to find a safer place to think.
Yet in the closet, I could think of nothing.
...
Well darn it. This is shaping up to be MUCH longer than I intended. I suppose this is only part 1. Hopefully I get to a part 2?
And sorry - no editing. They suggest that when you write, you get the 'whole thing out' before you do any editing. That's my paraphrase.
I remember always having ideas :( This is why you shouldn't get 'out of practice' in those nice little habits you're trying to build.
[entry code: FlashFic]
Well, let's force a story...a sort of flash-fic, I suppose. I was considering writing a short-story version here of my fanfic, but then I have to give some detail on that fic and...well...fanfics are embarrassing. For everyone involved. Seriously. I'm sure I've embarrassed many people already, and this particular fic hasn't even been uploaded.
These flash-fics scare me though. I remember the one I wrote about a turtle and...well, I think the tone was okay, but there wasn't actually a story. And that's the real sacrifice - how do you fit a story in something so small?
How 'bout I start with one of my reoccurring fantasies? - oh, don't worry. It's not 'that' sorta thing. I have this habit where, during down-time (waking up, going to sleep, random moments in the day when I can sit back and don't feel like I should get up and do something), I have some ...ideas I want to follow, of what 'could' happen and what I'd do in response and...well, check it out:
...
One day, everything changed. With me unaware.
Literally, no awareness. One moment, non-REM sleep; the next, I feel the world around me crumble.
Again, literally.
And I couldn't think of anything except "stop...I want to sleep...or, to stop dreaming..."
Spent those warped-sense of seconds merely taking stock and finding none.
There was an absence of pressure beneath me, of holding me up - yet I could still feel the bed there; there was a shifting of cloth as I lazily tumbled about; there was an odd collection of sounds, a sort of rushing, a fuzz, a ..well...no, I really couldn't pick up anything definite, except it's novelty and...familiarity? As if the context was all wrong -
And it was. This feeling, not-unlike the dreams one often has, not-unlike riding in a descending airplane, was very-much unlike any experiences I've had in my bedroom before.
The sounds became quite a bit more distinct when gravity found me again. Or rather, as my sense of gravity was re-asserted - I very soon confirmed that gravity was the immediate cause of this whole experience.
Loud, jarring noises, splinters, muffled-yet-pronounced cries of pain, and a look beneath my sheets found the room had snapped like a pencil.
As in, with jagged edges holding the peices together.
[insert research into the making of your average apartment, and how those ingredients would likely shape themselves if they were, say, dropped ten storie]
I lived on the tenth floor. Now, if I chose to stay, I'd wager I would live on the...fourth? It was hard to judge from the view of the "window." Somehow the window had shrunk; peices of wall and furniture from below must have obfiscated my view. and above...well...that was a bit of luck, wasn't it? Currently, the ceiling sagged dangerously above me, and had fallen in at the entrance of my room - but overall, being on the top floor had been a boon; I couldn't imagine how those below me faired. Seriously. I still have a rather strong mental-block about what was possibly directly under my bed and floor.
The floor had splintered into three panes, and after asserting my existing and intuiting that I was probably in shock and should get moving, I mentally shifted my priorities from getting back to that beautiful, dreamless state to navigating my way to the safest location within the room. Nothing was moving now, but since I had no idea how everything had been moved in the first place, I needed to find a safer place to think.
Yet in the closet, I could think of nothing.
...
Well darn it. This is shaping up to be MUCH longer than I intended. I suppose this is only part 1. Hopefully I get to a part 2?
And sorry - no editing. They suggest that when you write, you get the 'whole thing out' before you do any editing. That's my paraphrase.