A life

AUTHORS NOTE:-
I do not usually write or read poetry, I understand almost nothing of its rules or structures, I'm not even sure if this piece would be classed as poetry, but the idea came to me, and so more as an experiment than anything else I decided to post it. You may like it, or you may think it a pile of rubbish, if you do, just say so, I won't be offended.
Steve Green.

* * * * * * * *

A LIFE


Hairless, toothless, sightless, speechless.

Reliant, dependant, resplendent,

Learning, struggling, investigating, growing.

Transition, decision, submission.

Girthed, birthed, earthed, dearthed.

Repeated, cheated, depleted.

Ailing, paling, failing, quailing.

Irradiated, depilated, sedated.

Hairless, toothless, sightless, speechless.

Dead.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

The Very Inspiring Blogger Award

The very kind and talented lady Cindy Vaskova has nominated me for The Very Inspiring Blogger Award.

Cindy, congratulations on your own award, I enjoy your writing very much, and it is very well deserved, and thank you so much for thinking of me when you were composing your own list of favourite writers.

Now, the rules are, I must write seven random facts about myself, and nominate fifteen other bloggers to receive the award.

I'm struggling to think of seven random facts about myself that will interest people, and that I haven't already published before, so I decided to show some that people may have read on here previously.


1) I love peace and quiet, and regularly watch the TV with the sound turned off.

2) I love slaughtering things on my Xbox 360, currently I'm playing Borderlands, and enjoying every gunshot and bloodsplat.

3) I eat lots of fruit, but never eat cherries.

4) I am absolutely NOT a morning person, and am really lucky because my working hours are 12.30 PM – 9.00 PM, and I absolutely luuurve those hours.

5) High on my list of pet hates are drivers who tailgate, and drivers who don't use their indicators.

6) My Ipod has 5,800 tunes on it, ranging from Bob Dylan, to modern pop, and one of my favourite all-time bands is Blondie.

7) Although the films I am really into are such as the Alien quadrilogy, Resident evils, Predators, and the like, I absolutely love the film Shirley Valentine, and have watched it dozens of times.



Nominating fifteen other bloggers is much more difficult than one would think, because I enjoy reading many people's writing, and it is hard to choose one over another, also my own list would probably almost duplicate Cindy's, so although it means bending the rules a tad, I have decided to nominate just three writers, each of them are relative newcomers to the #fridayflash community whose works I have recently discovered, and enjoyed reading.


1 Dawn Huddlestone.

2 A.B. Singer.

3 E.J. Hobbs.

Well done guys, and I look forward to seeing more of your works in the future.

Steve Green.

Monster

It preferred to attack from above. It had used other methods of attack, learning more with each kill, but its natural instinct was to drop from above and bite, and it was without doubt a creature of instinct.

The whole city was in a state of panic. Since the first horrifically mutilated corpses had been discovered pairs of guards had been posted at every street corner, armed patrols drove around the streets during the dark hours, people stayed in their homes whenever possible.

One victim each day, for ninety seven consecutive days.

Forensics and pathology tests had given very little in the way of help. They had proven the creature was not human. The wounds suggested teeth and bite size comparable with that of a six-foot shark. A six digit paw with four central fingers and an opposing thumb at either end, razor sharp claws of two to three inches long, and superhuman strength.

The wounds also suggested the victims died as a result of massive blood loss due to extensive lacerations to the neck and throat.

There was little left of the victims' main body, upper arms and thighs to glean any clues from, for the creature had a voracious appetite.

The whole city walked in fear of this monster.

* * * * *

The creature had no concept of right or wrong, and would probably have been deeply offended to learn it was thought of as a monster.

For it knew of love, adoration, loyalty, obedience.

It was a pet, accidentally abandoned when its master's ship had landed briefly to undertake repairs. By the time its absence had been discovered the distance and time involved, coupled with the shortage of fuel made it impossible to return for it. There would be many years of grief and guilt before its master would come to terms with the loss of his beloved faithful companion.

Of course the creature knew nothing of this, it only knew its master was no longer there, his soothing voice and gentle hand no longer a comfort, the food no longer given.

Many generations have gone by since the Monster's own kind needed to hunt to survive, since domestication the knowledge and skills had been lost through lack of use and time itself... almost.

And now, for the first time in its life, and through no fault of its own, it had been forced to fend for itself. Luckily for the creature the food source was easy prey. Each night it hunted, ate, then slept.

As the creature also had no concept of time it lived in constant expectation of its master appearing, calling, throwing its toy.

It finished its meal, then bounded off into the nearby woodland, climbed high into a tree, a full belly and an innocent heart brought sleep quickly and naturally.

For whatever the creature was or was not, it only killed to eat, to survive, never for sport or amusement.

Unlike some creatures.... Who branded it a monster.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

A small sound

It was a small sound, such a very small sound, barely audible, on the fringe of my hearing.

But still... it was a sound.

Silence prevailed here, the sound of nothing, the sound of a butterfly resting on a leaf, the sound of a cloud floating by, the sound of a flower growing, the sound of a tree sighing.

A sound can mean only one thing.

We are discovered.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green

Please... Don't

Please... don't tell me again how much you love me.

Please... don't tell me again how you can't live without me.

Please... don't unpack my suitcase.

Please... don't start crying again.

Please... don't look at me that way.

Please... don't come any closer.

Please... Don't.

Please...


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

My beautiful baby

I just couldn't stop crying, overwhelmed by exhaustion, relief, and joy. I had given birth alone of course, the father long gone.

I held her to me tightly, my beautiful baby.

I cleaned her, kissed her, wrapped her, and began life as a parent.

I kissed her and hugged her often, told her how much I loved her, every single day.

I watched her grow, felt the joy, the thrill, and the happiness of every small stage. The first time she rolled over, sat up on her own, learned to crawl, to totter, to walk, to run.

I paced through the nights cradling her through the painful teething times, rocking her, whispering to her, giving what comfort I could.

The weaning was a joy to watch, the transition from milk to solid something to behold.

Her first kill was amazing, less than two years old and already she could take down a full grown man.

She is magnificent, and when she's all grown up she will be unstoppable. My beautiful baby.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

Nailed

Halloween is upon us again, here is my offering for the occasion.
Happy Halloween everyone. Bwuhahahahahahahahaha!!


NAILED.

Having the palms of your hands nailed to a table is probably not the worst, or most painful thing that can happen to a person, definitely not the most pleasant, but still probably not the worst.

Unfortunately for Jimmy Diggs his problems were a shade more numerous than that.

Someone had also hammered eight inch nails through his thighs and into the chair he was sitting in, the heads of more nails protruded from the tops of his shoes.

Several two inch ovals secured his lower jaw and chin to the table top, leaving his neck bent and strained at an unnatural angle, adding further to his discomfort.

His eyelids were stapled to his eyebrows, giving him the 'surprise-eyes' look, and leaving him staring across the table at the TV screen opposite.

Jimmy moaned occasionally, the pain was not so severe any more, three days of sitting here like this had taken a numbing effect.

Even the panel pins through his fingertips, which had given him the most excruciating pain had lost most of their effect.

His brain was also numb from watching “The joys of wallpapering” DVD which was on repeat play.

Jimmy had been a naughty boy. He had borrowed money, lots of money, from some very unsavoury characters, in order to prop up his failing chain of 'Home decorating' shops

And of course, when the present economic climate had seen the further decline of his business, the money had not been paid back.

The bad guys had visited Jimmy, the money had become unimportant now, Jimmy was worth more as a warning to others.

When he was discovered, the medical team which arrived shortly after were about to administer a powerful morphine dose to knock him out before he was freed from his predicament.

“Can you just hang fire for a few minutes with that syringe?” Croaked Jimmy.

“Why?” Said the medic, incredulously.

“I'd just like your opinion on whether that wallpaper pattern really does go with that shade of green.”


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.


Anyone wishing to read previous Halloween stories can find them here:-

2011 – She loves me, she loves me not.

2010 – Pumpkinhead.

Board games

I was just a tad pissed off at getting dragged through the ether again, this was the third time in less than a month.

Stupid drunken teenagers playing around with things they didn't understand. Well, the time for understanding was over, they would be taught a lesson, I had my own game to play.

I burst into the room through a splat of ectoplasm, all gooey and snotty, in spirit of course, my body was long since gone, but it still felt gooey and snotty.

And there they were... The four of them, crouched around the ouija board on the coffee table, all hands touching the pointer, all mouths giggling.

“Is there anybodeee theeere?” Said the redhead, theatrically. Rolling her eyes, and bursting into further fits of laughter, pulling the other three along with her mirth.

Oh yes, there is somebodeee heeere alright, you can't see me, but by hell you're soon gonna know I exist.

I picked up the almost empty vodka bottle and hurled it against the wall, that was when the giggling stopped.

They all eyed each other, their faces delightful pictures of serious concern.

Next the coffee table, ouija board, and drinks glasses sailed through the air, that was when the scramble for the door started. I slammed it shut, they were going nowhere.

Time for the games to begin.

I lifted the redhead up by her hair and slammed her against the ceiling, that was when the screaming started...

It went on for a long, long time.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

Falling apart

John just went to pieces after his wife left him.

The very day after she had walked out, he awoke to find unnervingly large clumps of his hair on the pillow. During the course of the day he became gradually balder and balder, and although he was rather perturbed by this, he put it down as being a nervous reaction to his wife's actions. No doubt the hair would grow back once he had got over the initial shock of being abandoned.

The following day, as John was rubbing shower gel onto his smooth, and for some reason that he couldn't quite fathom, sexy-feeling bald head, something floated past his line of vision and into the water below.

Looking down he was shocked to see one of his fingernails floating along towards the shower drain hole. He lowered his hands to eye level and watched in horror as one by one the remaining nine flaked off and joined it, creating an armada of tiny fingernail boats.

John began to feel sick, something was not right here. Maybe he was hallucinating? Another nervous reaction to being left alone?

He towelled himself dry and went for a lie down, convinced that all would be well with his world when he woke up again.

Not so...

John blinked himself awake, and climbed out of bed, only to fall heavily to the floor. Shocked, he tried to stand, and immediately fell flat on his face again. The impact sending one of his eyeballs flying from its socket, it rolled rapidly across the carpet and disappeared under the wardrobe.

He rolled onto his back and squinted along the length of his legs...

There was no feet on either of them.

He almost gagged in panic!

He dragged himself back onto the bed and into a sitting position, tentatively he pulled the sheet aside, there were his feet, either side of a small pile of toenails.

“Oh God! … Oh God! … Oh God!”

John raised his right, nail-less hand to his mouth to stifle the scream that was building inside him, just before he could cover his mouth, the hand fell from his wrist, bounced off his thigh, and landed heavily on the carpet.

The scream came... Accompanied by the tinkling sound of most of his teeth cascading from his mouth into his lap, followed shortly by the wet splat of his tongue joining the pile.

“Oh Gog! ... Oh Gog! ... Oh Gog!”

John was screaming in mind as well as mouth, insanity was kicking in.

A sudden thought struck John, silencing his screams.

Until now he had always believed that his wife would be the one to go to pieces if she ever found out about his affair.

The comical twist of the situation was not lost on him.

He started giggling maniacally, his lunatic mirth grew in volume and intensity, reverberating around the house, bouncing off the walls, until eventually he just laughed his head off.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.

A problem solved

I stared long and hard at the wretch before me.

The watery, bloodshot eyes stared back.

I took in the scarlet cheeks, the purple-veined nose and the drawn expression. The look of depression, depravation, addiction and despair.

A face that said it had given up, accepted its lot, and in its alcohol-addled logic had stupidly decided that its state of health and state of affairs weren't too bad.

“You really need to give up drinking.” I said.

We both nodded together at the wisdom of these words.

“You're a wreck, and I'm sick of telling you that you need to do something about it.”

Again we nodded in unison, there was such an undeniable truth here.

“Make this the last time we have this conversation, and tomorrow DO something about it!”

Again the nod.

I turned away from my reflection and staggered to the chair, sat down heavily.

I picked up the glass of JD, raised it in the air. “ Here's to tomorrow, the day I'm gonna DO something about this state of affairs.”

I brought the glass to my lips and took a heavy slug. Felt the liquid burn its way down.

Yeah, tomorrow I would do something about it alright, the first thing in the afternoon when I wake up I'm gonna throw that goddam mirror in the bin.


©2012 Stephen. J. Green.