Flexing a little creativity

A little random writing.



I have a guardian angel. Tink sits on my shoulder most of the time and a lot of the time remains unnoticed. Only when she feels she absolutely must protect me that her volcanic personality is displayed. She isn’t particularly good at protecting me. My friends are used to her projectile magic which feels a little like a pin prick. I quite commonly put her in my pocket when she gets too much.

Diggs and Thagata once tried to tell Tink why they thought censorship was wrong, but it seems that her opinion will never be changed on the subject.

Diggs commented, ‘I understand that there can be good censorship, but if you give someone the power to censor some information, then the power can be abused. End of argument.’
Thagata was nodding reassuringly towards Tink with a smiling expression that made me have to contain a laugh.
My laughing didn’t help the situation as Tink was quite clearly getting quite aggravated. ‘Shut up! You don’t understand anything! Shut it!’
Thagata came in saying ‘you are letting your emotions control your thought, think what we’re saying with a clear mind.’
‘A clear mind?! A clouded mind more like! You need to analyse things with more emotion! You can never understand the emotional point of view!’ Tink turned around, looking a little flustered, and sat looking away.

Diggs calmly got up and walked towards me. He hit Tink with the back of his hand and she went flying into the wall, and then falling to the floor passed out. Thagata and I gaped at this action. Diggs innocently showed us his palms and calmly stated that ‘violence may be necessary in order to sort out a lot of the world’s troubles.’

Posted by Leonard Foong 2 comments ¨¨¨¨¨

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Some creative writing

A little random writing.



He stares outside the window, watching the busy streets outside slip by. His mind distracted for a brief period of time, observing the various people walking by. Suddenly startled, his attention darts back to the phone sitting on a desk near by. Troubled thoughts start to swarm through his head again. His ears, listening attentively for the ‘ring’ to suddenly pierce the dead silence that fills the room. He sighs. He walks to the bathroom, turns on the tap and flushes his face with water a few times and looks into the mirror in front of him with a dead stare. He wipes his face and proceeds to the bedroom. He turns to his bed, and falls back into it, letting out another sigh. He closes his eyes, mind struggling to keep awake and eventually drifts to sleep…

The phone rings. He gets up with a sudden jolt. His heart starts to beat faster, and faster until it feels as though it was pounding against his chest, wanting to come out. He walks to the desk, eyes fixed to the phone never leaving it, even for a second. His hand reaches slowly and carefully picking up the phone. It takes all his strength and finally, he let’s out a ‘hello’ from his mouth. He listens intently for a voice. “Hello Sir, this is the reception. We are giving each of our guests a complimentary fruit basket. One is being brought to you now. We hope you enjoy your stay. Thank you.” He puts down the phone. Barely relieved. He trots back to his bed and slowly sits down on the edge, lifting his hand to his forehead. He thinks, ‘am I doing the right thing?’

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Silence

I sit by the window putting my mind in a state of awareness. The wind rushes through my window sending my blinds rattling and clanking against the window frame, soon followed by another, then another. I close my eyes and feel the air against me sending my loose pants, and shirt fluttering slightly in this brief gale. I open my eyes in time to see the blinds fall back to their original positions before they were tossed by the onslaught of wind. I lay back and close my eyes again and listen.
I hear my heater behind me. Rattling within its hollow pipes. The random plinking sounds of the heater from time to time. I hear doors opening and the footsteps of my housemate walking to the bathroom. His footsteps are heavy, causing the hardwood floors to tremble with each pace. The sound of his feet pounding against the wood of the floor making a muffled thump with each step.
I listen to a crow somewhere in the distance cry out, and then somewhere off to my left I hear a distant response from another crow. I hear the wind whiff sweeping through my window again and hear the low hum as it passes by my ear. I listen with the intent of hearing everything, I don't want to miss any of it. Somewhere close by is a different hum. Its the hum of a bee, or could it be a wasp. The sound grows stronger and I can feel the fluttering of its wings very close to my cheek. The buzz is not the high pitch you hear when mosquitoes are near. This is deeper, like a low buzz. I dare not move for fear it will sting, and then know for sure if this was a wasp or bee.
So, I lay still and do not move, or even hardly breath. I could hear my heart beating , thumping ,slow and consistent. Two beats per second. The hum soon moves away off to my left. The wind resumes its concert and it too begins to fade. Not as intense as before, more of a gentle brushing against my skin. My shirt and paints no longer flutter gently, rather they lay down limply. The absence of the wind, and the now quiet room, heightens my awareness and new sounds emerge.
I now hear a tractor, I think. The sound is familiar, but yet it is different. It has a squeak and a load deep diesel engine sound. It's probably a bus, along the street. Both are real close. I listen to the banging of the blade as it hits something hard and the roar of the diesel as its operator pushes the engine harder. As the sound of the engine passes by, I hear the loud wailing of a siren from afar getting louder and coming closer. Then, both sounds of the deep engine and the siren become intertwined. The siren from a firetruck blasts by and fades away. Then silence. No breeze, no engine, no hum, no siren just silence. I guess the streets were empty again. The quietness was defying.

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