Sunday, November 21, 2010

Experiment #1.1

Consider.

This house sits half a mile from the nearest road, on a lake surrounded by pine woods. The next nearest property is at least two or three miles away.

You’d have to work on your yodel, provided the cabins are inhabited this early in the season - most usually wait a few more weeks until Memorial Day. And we’re having a cool spring.

So, on the very off chance you’re able to get a hand free and somehow disarm me, get the key and free your other hand, take the room key from its, heh, super secret hiding place, and toddle out on your one good leg, your best bet would be to find the car keys and hobble barefoot across the gravel drive to the car.

But then, about that point, as you’ve locked the door and are revving up the engine to flee like a bat out of hell, thanking the stars that you were shot in your left instead of right leg, you’d notice the gas meter just dipping into the red.

Now I know you don’t take me for a fool. There is a gas station in the vicinity. Been there myself many times over the years - haven’t forgotten it one bit - practically the only business for miles and miles amid all these backroads.

The question for you is, as I’ve potentially caught up to you by this point, do you turn right or left onto the road?

Because we are having a cool spring.

No telling if you’d notice without your antibiotics or not.

Her neck muscles, which had been weak but tensed along with the rest of her in reaction to his presence, gave. Regardless of the dr(how did?)ug fading from her system which numbed against the cold electricity, the eroding chasm, of her failing senses, her consciousness found itself taking refuge in her eyes and the front of her face, a pale glow adrift in sloshing blackness. She didn’t look quite at him, staring ahead at the ceiling.

Smart girl.


He sat down on the edge of the bed, taking something from the nightstand. She could hear the whisper-quiet tapping of like plastics brushing into one another, like a box of markers.

It’s a shame apparently no one’s looking for you.


With that, navy satin melted tight over her eyes like the tape inches below.

A trio of cuff adjustments later, he had her sitting up and..


That’s how it began.




[originally posted 08/13/2009 on MySpace, 11/07/09 on OkCupid]

[Experiment #1.2 debut, soon-ish]