Monday, October 25, 2010

Framescape ~3~

Image from Google Images
Deep Space
The space around me is a tunnel of dark matter. I feel like I am floating in a gel like substance, my spirit distal in relation to my broken body. Like a rubber ball attached to a paddle, I was snapping back and forth between my sleeping form and my transcendental self. I could hear unrecognizable voices. They seemed to be trying to figure out who I was.  In the next moment someone was playing a harp and singing for the revelers. I heard someone say my name, “Cassie Evans, the police located her driver’s license. Her name is Cassie Evans.” The voices started to fade again back to the music. I just couldn’t seem to stay in one place long enough.
I was feeling a rush of emotion.  Panic not for my dying body but for the many dying bodies, I had glimpsed in his mind’s eye. I was unilaterally drawn to and from this man, this creature, this conundrum of colorful darkness. He was lovely but deadly and I knew that I was the only one to know this.
Snapping back again, “Evans,” I thought, “I am not an Evans. I have never been an Evans. My last name is Clary. What am I doing here?” I yelled! No one heard me, no one is responding to me. I have to get out of here. I just did not know how to go about it. Was it a matter of performing a gedankenexperiment; would I have to try to leave this place experimentally from my own mind? I just did not know. I wanted to pursue this evil plenipotent man and his retinue with every fiber of my being.
I felt myself struggling, willing myself to leave this teeter totter state of consciousness. I could see the vacuous tunnel, it was dark except fibers of light seemed to be fading further and further away. I noticed another entrance, another frame from it nothing hung, not a door but just a curtain of wavy light filled with the liquid gel matter. Fibers of carmine, magenta, vermilin and amethyst were swirling just the other side of the frame. I needed to get back to the party and the otherworldly revelers. I felt certain of that but I just couldn’t seem to manage it. I was drawn to the swirling fibers the colors so brilliant they had me mesmerized.
I turn back to face myself and I realize I was looking down at my own battered body. I wasn’t going anywhere that was for sure. Tubes and monitors were humming and beeping all around me. People were rushing in and through me; all the while a tintinnabulation of mechanical noises elevated a sense of urgency in the people working on me.
I was flipping back and forth when…

To be continued

6 comments:

  1. Wow Kristen! That was cool. Is this all from personal experience? Because I know that this happens to use when we are asleep and we are on our astral rounds or when we are dead.

    Keep writing.

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  2. I read your "Dear Reader" comment at the top tab between reading parts 2 and 3. Just wanted to say how beautifully expressed it is and, also, where I have not had a full-on meeting with my muse yet - as you certainly have - Tess Kincaid's photo prompts are the reason for my writing again. It is a wondrously happy and intoxicating thing!

    Your story is wonderful. I like that you use words not commonly heard in everyday speech by most Americans (duh!), but at no point do I feel you are just tossing in a great word (plenipotent comes to mind) to impress your reader. Each word and phrase seems very natural and necessary.

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  3. It's like she get's to hang out at Gatsby's party. So cool. Love the descriptions. Just read first 3 chapters. Can't wait for the next!
    PS I finally did another Magpie. I missed about 3 weeks!

    Yes I'm your first follower (the one w/ a black cat icon.

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  4. Another fabulous chapter. I'm enjoying the build up to where she goes next - and what she does and doesn't do with this mystery man!

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Your comments are always welcome. Enjoy the story or if you don't tell me why!