So..I like to write, if that wasn’t already obvious to the naked eye, what with me owning a blog and all. But what you may not know is that I really, really like writing. There are times in my life when I say “screw it all, let me just sit down and become a famous author!”. Yes, I do understand it’s not quite that easy, but the way in which I am able to totally get lost in my story as I’m creating it, the way in which I NEVER proof read or edit or whatever else, and somehow or another it all comes out pretty flawless (I’m talking spelling and grammar-wise – if you don’t like my style of writing, obviously it wouldn’t seem so “perfect” to you, but you can’t argue that semantically it’s pretty damn good!) all makes me think that writing was what I was born to do. Of course, I have other ambitions which currently trump writing for the moment, so I get my release by making entries in my blog, but also by writing poetry and short stories. I actually have a few of them posted on my website www.25andalive.tk. For those observant few of you, you’ll notice this is also the website where you could find my Digital Stories.
Anyway, so I thought I would give you a little taste of my short story writing abilities. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think…and let me know if the actual story inspires any thoughts, feelings, or memories from you.
A Classic Ruby Original
She runs frantically from room to room, desperately searching for the children she knows aren’t there. She is in tears, on the verge of hysteria. It is almost as though she cant feel her legs anymore, and for a brief moment she wonders how it is possible that her legs still be pumping rapidly underneath her, propelling her from room to room. She doesn’t pause to think however, can’t focus on anything but her task. When she is not going through a panic attack, she wonders whether its the strength of a mothers love or the weakness of a traumatized mind that can keep her moving like this, sometimes for hours, never stopping, never thinking of anything but finding her children, never even feeling remotely tired. Knowing that the search is futile, but not being able to give up-being compelled by some inner demon, to the observer appearing almost as though she was being chased by an invisible monster (more…)