Just Breathe

Further micro fiction. Not pretty.

Don't ask where this stuff comes from. I don't know.

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Just Breathe


It was a steak knife. Mostly dull. The barest rasp of serration. She held it overhead pointed down as she tried to drive it into his face.

He barely threw his forearm into hers as it descended, before she could gain momentum.

He knew how to fight, she didn’t. She was trying to kill him, but still he felt bad.

“It’s ok,” he said, trying for calm. She grunted, shoved forward. He sidestepped her momentum, trying not to let her fall. She staggered. He reached out. A wet, scream-hiss and she slashed. The pinpoint teeth crossed his forearm, tearing flesh, not cutting. He felt the blade saw against his radius and his stomach lurched.

“STUPID!” he shouted… at himself not her. Then rammed two fingers of his free hand into her throat. She choked and the knife fell away… then the fight itself. She collapsed gasping. He lowered her to the ground, kneeling to hold on.

Her hair was short and spiky, but softer than he’d thought. It pressed under his chin, smelling clean and sharp.

“Breathe…” he said, calmly. “Just breathe.” Slowly her gasps turned to keening anguish. She shook in his arms but that was his own shuddering.

“I know.” he said. “That’s the problem. I love her, too.” She sobbed, but didn’t fight.

“That’s all we can do,” he said, more to himself. “We just love her.

"The rest is up to her.”

He felt tears and blood running over him and knew neither would be enough.

Awake

Flash fiction... micro fiction... an entire story in 250 words or less. I like the idea.

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Three months, four days, 7 hours.

“You’re awake?” she asked as her eyes flicked open and she turned, looking over her bare shoulder. “Before me?” Smiling, because they both knew that wasn’t the way it should be. He continued to watch her skin in the blue light of early morning. Her eyes were black, just a hint of white at the edges. Nocturnal. Distant.

He didn’t say anything at first, then, “I never went to sleep.” He leaned his body forward, head still on hand on his side, bringing his lips to her neck. A kiss. A blessing.

“When you get up, you won’t be coming back. I didn’t want to miss anything.” He said it quietly, but firmly. He’d been practicing in his head for hours. “I know it and it’s ok.”

He kissed her spine again, reaffirming the inevitable.

She didn’t try to fake surprise or confusion. Her eyes just softened and that smile brightened. She turned her face back to the pillow and closed her eyes, edging her body back against his. He buried his face in her hair. They curved in silence until she bowed her head away so that her neck was exposed. “Do that again,” she murmured. So he did.

He fell asleep with his lips against her.

When he woke later, she was gone.

She’d never denied it.

'80s Music - The Great Influence

So... I love music. Really. I can't imagine life without it. Nicole asked me once, what would I choose... to lose my sight or my hearing.

Honestly, that is a tremendously hard question. To be unable to read or see color... yeesh... I am very visual in my life... but to be unable to hear music? No more drum beats or chord changes... no more heartfelt lyrics and angsty wailing... no more jangly guitars and synth wa-was... no more singer songwriter, twee, shoe-gazing, punk, alternative, emo, slowcore, indie, metal walls of sound?

That would probably kill me.

So... I'm always an '80's guy at heart, but I listen to a lot of new music as well... but sometimes, it is just necessary to indulge the drum machines and simplistic new wave keyboards and wincingly high falsettos... (can you tell that A-ha is playing "Take On Me" right now?)

What I find interesting is how much of the music... panned in the day... has become such an influence over the new music of the past five or six years. The post-punk new wave alternative of New Order, Depeche Mode, the Cure, R.E.M., Big Audio Dynamite, Yaz, The Church, XTC, World Party, Echo & the Bunnymen, Simple Minds, etc., have become the Post Post-punk, New new wave sounds of whole new swath of bands in the 2000's.

All of the following owe their sounds to the crazy, try-anything, coke and hairspray, anti-Thatcher/Reagan sounds that now counts as "classic" with the younger crowd.

Coldplay
Elbow
Gorillaz
Muse
The Coral
Interpol
Ballboy
Elefant
Leaves
The Postal Service
The Prids
The Stills
Vue
The Arcade Fire
Bell X-1
The Delays
Dogs Die In Hot Cars
Franz Ferdinand
Keane
The Killers (probably the kings of the new new wave!)
Pity Sing
Razorlight
Snow Patrol (especially Final Straw)
The Zutons
Black Tie Dynasty (a wonderful unknown band)
Bloc Party
The Bravery (painfully so!)
The Editors
The Futureheads
Imogen Heap (go listen to Laurie Anderson for the original!)
Maximo Park
The National
Pom Pom Diary
Rogue Wave (tremendous band... see 'em live if you can!)
Shout Out Louds
Whitey (wonderful synth pop electronica)
BLOW
Boy Kill Boy
The Changes
Dappled Cities
Explosions In The Sky (incredible instrumental pieces of New Wave rock)
The Grates (wonderful Aussie female punk band)
Headlights
The Honorary Title
Human Television
Love Is All
Mystery Jets
Only Son
The Oohlas
Rock Kills Kid (the perfect blend of '90s Punk pop and '80s alternative)
TAM
Turn Off The Stars
The View (nothing to do with Barbara Walters... I swear)
Zero 7
54 Seconds
American Babies
Apartment
Athlete
The Colour
Coulter (the best resurgence of the New Romantic sound)
Datarock (Devo meets Talking Heads!)
The High Strung
The Hoosiers
Klaxons
Shocking Pinks...

Well... I could keep going.

I guess I've more than enjoyed the resurgence of '80s influenced music in the past half a decade. If you like the '80s at all, try out some of the bands listed above. I think you'll be surprised... in a good way.

A blog... meh...

Seems this is the thing to do... so here I am, quite a few years behind the times.

I have a LiveJournal account out there somewhere, but it has been over a year since I posted to it. I wonder if this blog will be as short lived.

I'm horrible at maintaining any practice on a regular basis. I'll get into something for a while, and then find other interests and move on. I started journaling last year and did it quite regularly for aobut six months... and now... never touch it.

I think writing in particular is mood based. I've always been stimulated to write when upset or troubled or angsty about life. Being in a good mood just kills the creative juices. I want to just enjoy life... not write about it.

So this is an experiement of sorts. Can I write about stuff when I'm happy? (And I am happy! I like being happy!) Can I just make myself put words on the page as a comfortable practice and not a therapeutic activity?

Hmmm... I guess I'll find out.

Thanks Nicole, for pushing me to do this.


Current favorite Quote:
We would rather be ruined than changed,
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.
— W. H. Auden