Mickey Z
Cool Observer
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Flash (ah-AAH)...and another novel idea from Mudge
OK. I have two stories to tell. The first one is posted <style.html"target="new">right here</a> and is non-fiction.
The second one is just about 200 words, flash (semi-)fiction for MZ. Before I paste it in I’ll just mention to Mudge that as tempting as the offer is, I’ll never be able to maintain my participation. But I will at least try the nanowrimo this year. The story, then. . .
I finally bought the anti-fungal spray.
Monday, I sprayed. First, I dressed up in white and old sneakers. I put on rubber gloves, they were pink. I emptied the bathroom of everything. I sprayed the ceiling, the walls, the grout. Like the instructions said, I left it all to dry, came back a half-hour later and sprayed again. I went to buy paint. Cement paint. White. The bathroom was dry. I painted. The new paint wouldn’t stick to the old paint on the walls, but it stuck to me. All over me. I ran out of cement paint. I got out the turpentine and cleaned the paint off me. And left.
Tuesday, I sanded. I found a small square of sandpaper and spent the morning sanding. Then I found some old paint and painted, not with a roller this time, but with a paint brush. I’m no painter but I perfected my stroke. The bathroom was white, with thick gobs dripping down. I used the rest of the turpentine to clean myself off. Again.
Wednesday I was sick. Fever. Vomitting. Chest pains. Eye irritation. I stayed in bed.
Thursday the bathroom was still white. Friday it was coming off the walls in scales.
Posted by Keir on from The Hague (Jackowski election hdqts) 10/14 at 10:12 AMUgh. That non-fiction one again. . .<style.html"target="new">Shame (Gregor Samsa-style)</a>
Posted by Keir on from The Hague (Jackowski election hdqts) 10/14 at 10:14 AM#### this. Since when can I not type out a URL? Last try:
http://tinyurl.com/yyn4cnPosted by Keir on from The Hague (Jackowski election hdqts) 10/14 at 10:15 AMI won´t be doing the NANOthing this year as I´m still working on a book in Spanish with an illustrator friend we´ve been at since January, but good luck to all.
here´s the last shortstory I wrote:http://absurdist.cc/story_display.cfm?sid=2623&y=2006&m=7&s=1
Posted by owen on from barcelona 10/14 at 10:53 AMSpeaking of painting… (okay, it doesn’t qualify as fiction, and it’s well over 200 words, but it’s what came to mind):
My thoughts wandered as my razor blade scraped away the paint specks and spots of dirt on the window. It was an unexciting task, I thought as I sat on the sloping roof, but I didn’t mind the break from painting for the day.
It was a nice day, clear, but not too hot, not even in the midday sun. It was peaceful, quiet, in the woods next to the lake; quieter than usual. We usually had a radio, but not today. It was serene. Only the four million dollar home we were working on seemed out of place, somehow inappropriate.
I heard a truck pull in the drive and looked up. It was Gary. I stopped what I was doing as he stepped out and called up to us.
“Did you guys hear?” he asked.
“What?” I replied.
“Someone flew two planes into the World Trade Center,” he explained, “and one into the Pentagon.”
“My God,” I gasped. There was a moment of silence. In that moment, I felt as though I wasn’t sure how to respond. It was shocking news, but it seemed distant. New York didn’t seem any closer to me than the locations of so many other tragedies I’d seen on the evening news.
There were so many tragedies, and we are so unaffected by them. We are numb, cold. Yet for the victims and their loved ones, it is not distant. They are not senseless. We might not know where those places are on a map, but the sorrow is not too remote. The pain, at least on same scale, is not unfamiliar to us. We may never have suffered such trauma as those affected by the events we witness on our televisions, but it is there, someplace, not too deeply buried, that humanity.
New York wasn’t so far away. As the sense of disbelief faded away, I was stricken with grief, pondering the lives that must have been lost. Why would somebody do this?
The moment ended. Gary filled us in with what he’d heard and then left. The silence returned, but my thoughts weren’t wandering anymore. Rather, a single question kept returning to my mind.
I determined to find the answer.
Posted by Jeremy on from Taipei 10/14 at 12:02 PMTwo Stories; 196 words:
1.
In the 80s while working in a small library in Alabama I became acquainted with a runaway from Khomeini’s army.
Hamid would came to the library to memorize words all day. He made remarkable progress, becoming fluent enough to enroll in a community college where he won friends and excelled in his courses.
He made the 20 mile trip to school and back on a one-speed bicycle which he secured with a thin rope. “You don’t use a lock?” I asked him.
He just laughed, “Americans don’t notice.”
I often pressed Hamid to be more ambitious, but he would always insist that all he hoped for was to get married and lead a simple, uncomplicated life.
2.
“I cycled all the way from Colorado,” said the wiry, flea-bitten ex-soldier.
“On a one-speed?!”
He took me out to the library parking lot to show me.
Bungeed to the back were several fat books, the type that people use for collecting postage stamps. He had filled them all up. Every stamp was there-- scotch taped on top.
I had no heart to tell them that he had ruined them.
Posted by Robert B. Livingston on from San Francisco, California 10/14 at 01:17 PMI would do Linda Cohn from ESPN so hard.
Posted by Dog on from 10/14 at 03:33 PMHello Expendables. Michele and I just got home. We went for a long hike on this beautiful fall day. Give me a little time to peruse the stories above and I’ll comment soon.
For now, I will say I thought more of you would participate and that the very short story by “Dog” seems to fall into the science fiction category.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 10/14 at 04:52 PMWhat an excellent collection of stories, vignettes, etc. above. I mean that sincerely. I wish I could put together a book of Expendable writings. I even agree with Dog’s opinion of Linda Cohn (although I’d never express it so crudely). I’m most stuck on the horrendous art (sic) exhibition Keir discusses. My gut reaction is imagine that artist (sic) stripped and bound and covered in roaches. Hey, I don’t know anything about but I know what I like...as “they” say.
Anyone else wanna take a shot at writing something today? Also, feel free to add to my story in the original post. It’s begging for a resolution.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 10/14 at 06:02 PMA very cool exercise - banging out 200 off the top of the head. It could be difficult for me as an insipid run-on rambler.
O.K, here goes...(title doesn’t count)Murder Bird
As an internet addict, the volumes of digitally delivered thoughts that enter my brain would be an impressive stack of “intellectual” credit if they were bound in dead trees and leather taking up space against a wall somewhere as a silent testament to time spent massaging my gray matter.
Another marathon online session of consuming the wild extrapolations and font decorated cerebral masturbations of wordier humans than I was underway when a sharp tapping noise broke my concentration.
A small bird stood on the ledge outside staring in at me with his tiny, bible black eyes.
He cocked his twitchy little head and resumed tapping, pausing only to stare me down with his wet little soul holes.
I smiled at him in acknowledgment and he marched the length of the ledge to the window’s edge and resumed tapping.
Not ascribing any great meaning to this petite celestial spy’s endeavour, I decided to approach the window and press my face against the glass.
With his mission accomplished, he darted away into the sky leaving me gazing onto the pavement below.
There in the middle of the street a young woman lay splayed out as if she had fallen from the heavens.Posted by Youngfox on from neverendingpresent 10/14 at 08:20 PMI just read your article, “Why I hate America”, on nyc.indymedia. Nice read. Too bad we can’t have some open discussion like that on national TV. It might stimulate some real thought among the brainwashed masses. (*Sigh, if only we actually had a free press.) Keep up the great writing. Please take a few minutes to read my article. Thanks. http://nyc.indymedia.org/en/2006/10/77169.html
Oh, and BTW, I am a life long martial artist as well.
Posted by rcg on from http://www.rosecoloredglasses.org 10/14 at 08:36 PMAh, I was waiting for Youngfox to weave a tale. Bravo, my friend. Is it fiction? If not, was the young woman okay?
Welcome to the site, RCG. Hope you’ll make it a regular stop. I clicked on your link but won’t be able to watch the videos for a day or two. What style martial arts? I’ve got an eclectic background but my base is in Wing Chun.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 10/14 at 09:02 PMI have been studying martial arts for over 40 years non-stop and if I listed all the arts that I have studied, you might not believe it. Twenty years ago, I would have told you my base was Tang Soo Do. However, to be honest, I have studied so many arts for so long and so very very hard that I no longer know what my base is. Wing Chun is a wonderful style and rich in culture and tradition. Over the years, I have worked out with a handful of Wing Chun instructors and I always liked it. Thanks for visiting my site and for the kind welcome, I have book marked your site and I will be back.
-FrankPosted by rcg on from http://www.rosecoloredglasses.org 10/14 at 10:47 PMThanks, Frank. I look forward to having you join n the conversations here.
Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 10/15 at 06:30 AM
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