more original fiction? what?
so, our latest assignment in my creative writing class was to write a story about one of three pictures and submit it for a possible scholarship. i'm finished, and i'd like to hear some thoughts before i submit it tomorrow, if you want? image + story under the cut. i used the one on the far right.
The world swept by in Technicolor. It wasn’t real. None of it was. It was a dream, simply a dream, and they were soaring higher and higher with every notch on the speedometer. His senses were heightened, completely alive with the feeling of arms around his waist and rumbling life beneath him, in front of him, around him.
“Just one drink, Kale. Come on, it’s early. It’ll wear off by the time you want to head home, right? One more. It’s been a few hours. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”
The wind rushed by, a dull whistle in his ears that only served as fuel for the intense rush, the adrenaline that was building and building with nothing left behind. “Faster!” urged a voice in his ear, full of joy and laughter and he knew just like that that this was all he ever needed. The pieces fell into place without him even having to try; a love like this was all he ever needed. A love like the dancing neon signs and the dancing butterflies in his heart. The adrenaline was overpowering.
“Come on, Aden , we should get going. Are you sure you’re okay? Yeah, I’m good to drive. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you home, promise.”
Faster, faster, faster still and it was a strange sort of giddiness as he watched the numbers rise. Eighty, ninety, one hundred, and the flashes of white and red and green were blurring together into a perfect sort of heaven. Life seemed too short, much, much too short, and it was slipping through their fingers. He could feel it. He could feel every second as it ticked away, every moment flew by in a rush of color and satisfaction.
“Where are your helmets? Oh, I forgot them. Don’t worry. We’ve never really needed them before, right? Come on, Aden . I’m a safe driver. Don’t you trust me?”
The world was contained in nothing outside of this moment. This moment was all they were, this moment was every last second of their lives that had boiled down to this feeling. Adrenaline. Life was adrenaline, love was adrenaline, fear was adrenaline, and they were pushing and pulling to fill the spaces in between.
“You like her, don’t you? Like who? September. You’re crazy. She’s your sister! So? I wouldn’t care, if it was you. You’re a liar. Says who? I can see right through you.”
Green. Green was the envy, the barely concealed jealousy that built up inside, burning and boiling and turning over and over like acid in the back of his throat every time he saw her smile at him. Red was the love, the blood, blood spilled again and again with every laugh and every brush of his arm against hers and why, why can’t it just be me instead? White was pure, white was innocent, everything that she was with her perfect life and everything that he wasn’t with his short temper and cigarettes.
Separate. The emotions were always separate, always keeping their distance from each other and keeping their distance from here. Now, here in this space with his arms around Kale’s waist and this feeling heavy in his own heart, the lines disappeared. With every increase in speed, the colors and feelings and heaven blurred faster and faster, closer and tighter until all that he could think was faster, faster, we have to go faster and deeper into this kind of perfection.
Perfection comes once and then never comes again. Perfection comes to an end, a sudden, crashing end, and they had been too fast, flying too high to see the red.
Life is too short. Much, much too short. It had slipped through their fingers somewhere in the laughing, lingering heaven. Neither of them saw the light, and red faded from the blood of hidden affection to the blood of sin and not enough common sense.
At least they died together, she thought bitterly, staring at the gravestones three months later and fighting the urge to kick them. They died together, but I loved him.
The world swept by in Technicolor. It wasn’t real. None of it was. It was a dream, simply a dream, and they were soaring higher and higher with every notch on the speedometer. His senses were heightened, completely alive with the feeling of arms around his waist and rumbling life beneath him, in front of him, around him.
“Just one drink, Kale. Come on, it’s early. It’ll wear off by the time you want to head home, right? One more. It’s been a few hours. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”
The wind rushed by, a dull whistle in his ears that only served as fuel for the intense rush, the adrenaline that was building and building with nothing left behind. “Faster!” urged a voice in his ear, full of joy and laughter and he knew just like that that this was all he ever needed. The pieces fell into place without him even having to try; a love like this was all he ever needed. A love like the dancing neon signs and the dancing butterflies in his heart. The adrenaline was overpowering.
“Come on, Aden , we should get going. Are you sure you’re okay? Yeah, I’m good to drive. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you home, promise.”
Faster, faster, faster still and it was a strange sort of giddiness as he watched the numbers rise. Eighty, ninety, one hundred, and the flashes of white and red and green were blurring together into a perfect sort of heaven. Life seemed too short, much, much too short, and it was slipping through their fingers. He could feel it. He could feel every second as it ticked away, every moment flew by in a rush of color and satisfaction.
“Where are your helmets? Oh, I forgot them. Don’t worry. We’ve never really needed them before, right? Come on, Aden . I’m a safe driver. Don’t you trust me?”
The world was contained in nothing outside of this moment. This moment was all they were, this moment was every last second of their lives that had boiled down to this feeling. Adrenaline. Life was adrenaline, love was adrenaline, fear was adrenaline, and they were pushing and pulling to fill the spaces in between.
“You like her, don’t you? Like who? September. You’re crazy. She’s your sister! So? I wouldn’t care, if it was you. You’re a liar. Says who? I can see right through you.”
Green. Green was the envy, the barely concealed jealousy that built up inside, burning and boiling and turning over and over like acid in the back of his throat every time he saw her smile at him. Red was the love, the blood, blood spilled again and again with every laugh and every brush of his arm against hers and why, why can’t it just be me instead? White was pure, white was innocent, everything that she was with her perfect life and everything that he wasn’t with his short temper and cigarettes.
Separate. The emotions were always separate, always keeping their distance from each other and keeping their distance from here. Now, here in this space with his arms around Kale’s waist and this feeling heavy in his own heart, the lines disappeared. With every increase in speed, the colors and feelings and heaven blurred faster and faster, closer and tighter until all that he could think was faster, faster, we have to go faster and deeper into this kind of perfection.
Perfection comes once and then never comes again. Perfection comes to an end, a sudden, crashing end, and they had been too fast, flying too high to see the red.
Life is too short. Much, much too short. It had slipped through their fingers somewhere in the laughing, lingering heaven. Neither of them saw the light, and red faded from the blood of hidden affection to the blood of sin and not enough common sense.
At least they died together, she thought bitterly, staring at the gravestones three months later and fighting the urge to kick them. They died together, but I loved him.