This section of the story takes place in a single room. Accepting negativities, even though it is clear that the consequences of those negativities would be grim. This section tells the story of our character indulging in misery, self-realization, seclusion, developing phobias, anxieties and a need to break out to help his own mind. "Mother Superior and Her Fields of Migraine" is the first installment of the Praying for the be(a)st tryptich. Our intentions with this album, were to take elements from avant garde jazz, classical music, black metal and electronic music and create an amalgamation. We have collaborated with some amazing artists recently, and have thence created "Praying for the be(a)st", a tryptich following a creative non-fiction story of a faustian character. He lifted his foot and kicked at its center, knocking it off its hinges, and they crossed the porch to the front door.After the first album, Radio for the Daydreamers have worked on defining their sound much more and have tried to create a balance of different elements(/genres/styles/whathaveyou) of music. "Wake up, now." She mumbled, and he set her down then he tried the door but found it latched from the inside. Josh walked across the dirt lot and up the porch steps to the screen door. The hand-lettered name was Davy and Leona Skelton. The mailbox, supported on a crooked pedestal, was painted white and had what appeared to be an eye, with upper and lower lids, painted on it in black. He saw that dozens of paperback books lay in the dust around him, their pages flipping wildly in the restless hand of the wind, and to the left were the remains of a little clapboard structure with a hand-painted SULLIVAN PUBLIC LIBRARY sign. A small caf�� had also collapsed, except for the sign that read GOOD EATS Every step an exercise in agony, Josh walked past the crumbled buildings. A sign flapping back and forth on its hinges advertised TUCKER'S HARDWARE AND FEEDS, but the store's front window was shattered and the place looked bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard. There was a Texaco station with one pump and a garage whose roof had collapsed. He saw no cars, no hint of light or life. The dark town-just a scatter of wind-ravaged buildings and a few widely spaced houses on dusty lots-beckoned him onward. "Money ain't worth nothin' no more I'd blow your damn head off if I wouldn't have to clean up the mess" It took Sister about two more seconds to make up her mind. Whatever Sullivan had once been, it was dead now. Josh had just put his hand on the knob when the door flew open and the barrel of a pistol looked him in the eyes. He headed for the next house, further along and across the road. He approached one of the houses but stopped when he saw a body curled up like a question mark on the front porch steps. She held onto that Cookie Monster doll like life itself and occasionally flinched in her tormented sleep. Josh was stiff with cold, and he knew Swan must be freezing, too. we've got some corn, and green beans, and boiled potatoes." The pistol did not waver.īut he was already moving again, heading into the edge of the dense forest. "You broke my screen door," a woman's voice said in the gloom. "Leo-" And then it was interrupted by a strangling, terrible spasm of coughing. "Leona" a weak voice called from inside the house. He looked to the side, and something small-a jackrabbit? he wondered-darted out of sight behind the ruins of the caf��. Something moved at the corner of his vision. "Why'd you think the door was locked, then? This is private property" He and Sister entered the woods after the shuffling figure of the man in the ski mask and left the highway of death behind. His ribs ached where the beast had hit him, and his legs felt like short pieces of soft rubber. Artie looked over his shoulder, terrified of more lurking predators coming up behind him. They had no choice but to hurry after him.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |