Saying a lot, saying a little… who cares?
much ado about nothing
His hand reached out..
“Every action has an equal and opposite reaction”
It needed to be done. Why could he not just do it ? Seemed simple enough – to pull a lever. Whatever happened after that really didn’t make the slightest difference.
Or did it ?
Confusion, frustration, irritation, elation. The old ways never really leave you. Randomly connecting words and seeing if they make sense. Even now, when he had bare seconds to make this decision. Or, as he was doing, avoiding the decision.
His hand grasped it. Now all that remained to be done was to…
**************
Pull it, pull it, PULL IT !
Damn. Yet, again. He couldn’t.
His hand was poised in mid-air. Inches away. Seconds away from doing it.
He couldn’t. He didn’t have it in him to do it.
He suddenly notices the contrast between his fingers and the implement that hovered tantalizing in reach. It looked… different. His fingers danced, showing off the sheer dexterity… that he just could not use in this one simple task.
Why ? Could he really answer that question ? Was it a question worth answering ?
Maybe the lever didn’t want to be pulled ? Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was subtly influencing what he was doing, this ‘second thoughts’ business. He should break it, teach it a lesson. Just for the record, this was all the levers fault.
Whom was he trying to fool ?
**************
The lever waited, eventually the hand would come to grasp it. The hand was poised mere inches away, but it could have been a million miles away for the amount of time it seemed to be taking to decide whether to grasp it or not.
And then, two minutes later, the impatient kid jumped off the merry-go-round, pulled the ‘on’ lever.. and ran back in time to enjoy the ride.
Such is life. Much ado is made about… nothing.
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orison
about 4 months ago - 1 comment
Her arms aching from the weight, her back screaming in protest.. she made her way up the last step and set the water down. For a second, it seemed as though he had called out to her.. impatience overcoming the usual silence at this time of day. She shook her head: she was imagining things.
speed
about 1 year ago - 1 comment
It was time. His left foot depressed the clutch, his right the accelerator, one hand grasped the steering wheel in a vice while the other manipulated the gear box in a frenzy of movement. 0-1-2-25-3-40-4-55-5-60… gears at max, his hands both clenched the steering wheel as the car barreled down the road. The road in
it is better to finish than to begin
about 1 year ago - 1 comment
The man in front of her cowered. Literally. When she visualized the word ‘cower’ she could see a person shaking, bowed head, on his knees, hands clasped in front, the body bent over with the burden of fear. This was the exact picture presented to her right now. But then, it was to be a
beginning at the beginning
about 1 year ago - 2 comments
Eons ago, while people were still wondering about whether the world was indeed a world, or just a stage… things happened for a Reason. They happened because someone Wrote them down. Someone had the inclination and concern enough to observe events closely enough (or just think them up)…and then take the pain to sit down
causation
about 1 year ago - 1 comment
A thought. A word. A twinge. A smile. A shake. He went through them all, sitting outside in the afternoon sun. The sun beat down on him, but not hard. It was the changing seasons that were causing this. A mild sun, golden-green trees, and a slightly chilled wind. Not uncomfortable. He sipped the coffee,
tracker
about 2 years ago - 1 comment
Standing there, waiting. The time ticked by. An eternity. Forever. [...]
til death do us part
about 3 years ago - 3 comments
‘Romeo O Romeo…’ formed the beginning of one of the most eloquent passages in English literature. Sadly, the world would never know his own thoughts. She was after all the reason this had happened to him. The rapidly spreading splotch of blood, the weak knees, the dizziness, the fact that he was lolling on the
a new world ?
about 3 years ago - 1 comment
In which a day was a year and a year was a day. So that seasons changed soon. It was spring in the morning, rain at night and snow in between. But this made him start thinking: did the beings inhabiting this place call it a day or a year? Did they have birthdays every
the powers that be
about 3 years ago - 3 comments
He looked about him in wide-eyed wonder. It was very unlike his normal environs; so unlike, that to use the term “different” would be very hackneyed, not to mention inadequate. He tried pinching himself to see if he was in a dream. He found he couldn’t. He didn’t feel the pinch at all. ‘That’s it,
terpsichore
about 3 years ago - 4 comments
A step. Another. Hands extended to hold. Sidestep. Step back. Unclasp hands for the twirl. Twirl. See the smile on her face. Time the end to meet her in the hold again. Smile back at her upturned face. Place head over hers, as it rests right… there. Move serenely in the music, the two of
about 3 years ago
I like…
Its got your style woven all around it
I really like..
Ever thought of writing a book of these excerpts?
about 3 years ago
Dude… for a second I thought it was about the President of the US and the nuclear button or some futuristic stuff
Good stuff.
about 3 years ago
Brilliant….Simply brilliant!
about 3 years ago
I luved ur style of writing ………
this style of writing is what i have always aspired for …
and there .. u have it …
yup shd defintely publish these excerpts in a book .. i will buy it
and then maybe a yr later.. u can buy mine then
about 3 years ago
its a very good piece, sounds like Armagedon or war, the mind is a terrible thing to waste, and i can see your certainly not doing that!
about 3 years ago
Thanks, DarkMind
There’s more under the ‘My Fiction’ on the homepage..