Wednesday July 13th, 2011

The exercise:

Today we shall write something that relates in some way or another to: release.

Had a very good harvest this morning - the restaurant wanted all the raspberries we could find, and we ended up with twenty pints. It was nice to get things off to a positive start with them this year.


I feel vulnerable and exposed with no walls around to keep me contained. This idea of going wherever and whenever I want to is going to take some getting used to. I'm not going to miss the guards, though. The other prisoners? Maybe a little.

The friends I had on the outside before everything went to hell and I was locked away for the last ten years are not the sort of people I want to be around. Not if I want to stay free. And I do. At least, I think I do.

All these possibilities are messing with my head, making it feel too full. Say what you will about the inside, but at least you know what every day will bring you. Routine. I miss that. This freedom to choose... more like the burden of choice.

God, only five days since my release and I'm already considering going back in.


Greg said...

I like the ways the thoughts work in your story today; they curl around on themselves very neatly, going from hope to fear in a very natural way.

Tarjun had slipped the noose around the condemned man's neck when the Warden rushed into the yard. The Warden was an elderly man, in his sixties but still the only one willing to run the prison, and his rush was a controlled, even stately, process. He waved a piece of paper in one hand, and everyone turned to look at him. Tarjun rested his hand on the lever that would open the trapdoor beneath the condemned man.
"I say," said the Warden, his voice aristocratic and haughty. "I say, is that man Dennis deFilipa?"
Tarjun rolled his eyes, the only part of his face visible beneath his executioner's hood. There were exactly three people held in the prison, and the other two were women.
"Only, if it is," continued the Warden, "then I have here his releas-"
Everybody turned and stared at Tarjun. As the Warden had said the word release his hand had reflexively pulled on the lever, and now Dennis deFilipa dangled in space, his neck broken.
"We need a new word for pardoning prisoners," said Tarjun pulling the hood off. "That's the fourth one this decade."

Andrew said...

Sorry, don't have much time before I leave, so here's a limerick! And I'll do my best to pop by, but my blog will remain going.

The pie sat on the sill,
While drying it did sit still,
But then came along,
A person, does wrong,
And somebody's stomach does fill!

Sorry, I can't comment. Bye!

Andrew said...

Oh well, I read release. Sorry!

motherinToronto said...

I've been working on some projects, but I think I'll have a go on this again.

The drugs had her hog tied; leaving her face down on a dodgy mattress in a cold, dark, dank room. The scent of rotten wood permeated the space. In the hall a strange creature, a slip of a girl in a stained night gown crawled the ground. Her limbs and torso were pressed into the floorboards as she smiled sordidly at the bound girl. The sound of the girl brushing the ground was that of feathers scratching the ground. She shamefully knew that she had tied her own noose. The figure taunting her with unnatural movements ranging from slivering and scurrying about the mattress on the floor.

After a long night bound within her own body, the dawn pursued the darkness in her cold heart and the haunting figure crept away into the dark corners until next tme. Her binds released her and sobriety came.

There was strength in the light of day to free herself. But when darkness falls over the valley, fears and failures plagued her thoughts. The haunting returned and she was hog tied until the next sunrise. Waiting for the sun to release her or for her to change.

springit said...

Aw man, i really got into this one and now my post is too big. Should I post in more than one part or just not post this one and wait for the next one? lol

Denin said...

The snake slips conspicuously over the dusty cement floor. The clouds sent up by its slick tail remind me of volcanoes unleashing their anger in a fiery rage. It cooly slithers up to my side and wraps around my ankles. Terrified, I dare not to move. This day had only ever existed in the night, but light emanated from the nearby window. A flash of blinding pain at my feet shocks me. I don't scream, too surprised to react. I find myself face down on the ground as the snake aggressively races up my back towards my exposed neck. Its weight is a boulder, stuffing me against the cold hard ground. Blood and dust fill my mouth and eyes. I roll onto my back in an attempt to crush my adversary, but its slender, icy body twists and contorts until it lands perpendicular to my chest just inches away. I lash out with my hands, fingers spread wide, swiping the snake's midsection away. But it is too heavy, and drags a dismally small distance. It seems to jeer and mock me as it coils for the strike. Only when the fangs lodge in my neck like arrows in the hay sack do I realize that my terror will not release me today. reality has become my nightmare as the snake destroys me and the red curtains close on my life.

Marc said...

Greg - I am intrigued by your prison. Only three prisoners and quite the characters in both the warden and the executioner.

Andrew - well, we can pretend that the pie was released from its dish so that it could fill up someone's stomach :P

Mother in T.O. - welcome back :)

The imagery of the girl crawling in the hallway was really fantastic. Great job.

Springit - you're welcome to post it in two comments, or just stick it on your blog and leave a link here. Both ways work fine :)

Not posting is a bad option though, because I want to read it!

Denin - I am glad I read that this afternoon, otherwise I'd have to read it again now and then I wouldn't be able to sleep.

Andrew said...

OK, I'm glad you can make it work. :)