It will be the first time I've created an original story (without using external stimulus) for quite a while, so it will be interesting to see how this turns out. I have asked my good friend Dan Kempster to give me a title, and I will write a short story based on that; I think this could be quite a fun task to do.
He has since come back with 3 possible titles:
- The Magic Pumpkin
- The Final Face-Off
- Addicted to Bad Ideas
Now, straight away I am ruling out "The Magic Pumpkin". I just can't use that title. Why, you ask? Well, growing up as a child, I really enjoyed this obscure film:
It is called "The Magic Pudding"; it has John Cleese providing the voice of a talking, quite aggressive, grumpy, ever-lasting pudding. With arms and legs. Who is called Alfred. Yes, it is brilliant. Basically, I am fully aware that if I tried to write The Magic Pumpkin, it would end up being exactly the same as The Magic Pudding, but I would call him Arnold and he's be even more aggressive, swear a lot, and probably murder someone.
I think I am going to go with Addicted to Bad Ideas; will this turn out to be a bad idea? We shall see.
I think I am going to go with Addicted to Bad Ideas; will this turn out to be a bad idea? We shall see.
Addicted to Bad Ideas
Dark; cold; glum. All of these words could describe the weather on this dreary December night; they could also describe the character of William Bradley, as he crept his way along the narrow, barely-lit path. Hands in pockets, his dark brown hair was wet with sweat after a long day at work, and his scarred, weary face was facing downwards to try and counter the barrage of wind that was flowing towards it. "Laura will be cooking dinner at home", he thought to himself. The image of his 21 year-old girlfriend sprung into his mind. The right half of Laura's head was shaved, while the left half of her head was covered in long, messy black hair that flowed down by her side. She was quite short, with a cheery demeanour that many thought clashed with the sullen nature of William - she saw the bright-side of their differences, naturally. The thought of her sickly sweet, smiling face caused William to grin, something he hadn't done in a matter of hours. It hurt his face to do so, a muscle in his cheek clicking as his face made the involuntary expression, the smile actually causing him pain.
He sighed; Laura was an hour away. His thoughts wandered away from his innocent partner and on to the sordid; he tried to push them away, wrestling internally with his own brain, screaming inside his own head - but it was no use. He slowly walked up to the cash machine outside Halifax, the same one he had used every second-Friday of the last 6 months, and drew £40 out of the machine. He took a deep breath; his body shook, disgusted at what it knew it was about to do. But William couldn't control himself, not anymore.
William trod the road he knew so well, doing so awkwardly, a mixture of fast paces and slow steps which alternated at random intervals. Upon reaching the location, he sighed, stepping back and staring at the door for a matter of minutes, waiting for some divine intervention to either pull him inside or to strike him dead. Neither came. He checked his mobile: no new messages. He slid the phone back into his pocket, and clenched his fists together, gritting his teeth as he did so. He started intently at the door-handle, his body drawn towards it like a moth to a flame; as soon as his hand touched it, he was no longer in control. The indecision and guilt was dead, the worry deceased. He twisted the handle quickly, pushed the door open, and walked inside.
"Hello", said a familiar voice. "Same as usual?", smiled the well-dressed, elderly lady who ran the establishment. William nodded, silently. "Right this way", she smirked, leading him to the familiar room 262 he had committed so many wrongs in. "Sandy will be with you in a few minutes", she said, as William sat down on the bed. "Thank you" replied William, before watching the lady close the door as she left. He look around; the stained walls, the cracked roof, the dirty curtains; he had seem these all too many times before, to such an extent that there was an homely air about them. He un-knotted his tie, placing it on the familiar wooden chair, before he was alerted by the sound of the door clicking shut. He swiftly turned around to be greeted by the familiar green eyes of Sandy, who stood staring at him, alluringly. She licked her lips, before moving her mouth close to his left ear and whispering:
"Are you ready to lose your mind as I fuck the cum out of you?"
William was quite sure he'd already lost it.
There we go. Not sure what people will think of it; I'm not 100% happy with it, but hey, I guess I can't be delighted with every entry. I am hoping tomorrow will be something that isn't writing based - I am hopefully going to create a video, if the house is free.
Project Create 2013 creations by my good friends will be posted here: http://projectcreate2013.tumblr.com/; alternatively, follow them on Twitter using the below links:
www.twitter.com/HayleyC8Dwww.twitter.com/DanielKempsterwww.twitter.com/wecrashcopterswww.twitter.com/thegeekycomic
Thanks for reading!
Tom.
No comments:
Post a Comment