About Me

My photo
Becoming an author wasn't a dream. It fell upon me like silken bedsheets. Smoothly transitioning my life from photography to writing. I dove into writing children's books; right into the deep end. Then I almost drowned in my ignorance of the publishing world. It took six years for me to get on track. I have no money to invest in my future. But I have time. Using free resources, I learn the craft of writing. My ambition to write more than a simple book, clutches my mind. I write and I write, but have yet to publishing any of my growing body of work. Will people like them? Will others even be interested? One day, I will overcome my insecurities about my own words and take the plunge. But I will ensure I don't wallow in the deep end this time.

Take a peek at my writing.

What we write, inevitably, is a window to our soul.

The Ferrymen

 

     Jake watched as the shrapnel tore through Bob’s body. “Shit, it’s too soon.”

     Bob rolled his eyes then stared down at the hole that ran through his abdomen. “This is a big one, I’m not sure I can…” He covered the hole with his hands then fell unconscious to the ground.

     “Dam.” Jake muttered. He hoped the Ferrymen didn’t pay too much attention to this incident. Accidents like this happened often. But this one, would definitely delay things. Jake couldn’t allow the Ferrymen to watch too closely. 

     Schooling his face, as if this was just another normal setback, he lifted the lifeless body. Bob, except for the skull which housed the command center, was nothing but skin and cartilage, the bones having been removed ages ago and replaced with an extremely light titanium frame. Cradled in his arms, Jake carried Bob back to the station. Before he entered the door, Stalings crawled out of Bob’s ear canal.

     “Now that was some stupid explosion. How the hell did that happen?”

     Jake carefully aligned his words before speaking. “I think the capstone was not screwed on tightly enough, which let the benzene out. The spark plugs ignited it and...” Jake blew out some air, “Poof!”

     Stalings put his seven-fingered, tentacle-like hands on, what Jake thought, were Stalings hips. Stalings body was a network of muscles that looked like those old human muscular charts, but shrunken onto a two-inch rectangular blob. “Who poured the benzene in last night? It must be them.”

     Jake placed Bob’s body on a table. He took a moment to pray. Bob’s soul had been dead for many years, but still, Bob used to be his best friend. Jake hated how Stalings and the other Ferrymen used Bob's body over and over again. Jake wondered if the soul ever rested when its body was not returned to the earth. 

     Earth, who was he kidding, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see earth again but it wasn’t from lack of trying. This accident was unfortunate and set his plans back a few weeks. He opened his eyes.

     “Why do you do that?” Stalings asked while he investigated the damage.

No comments:

Post a Comment