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


  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.

  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.

  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.

  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!


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