Category Archives: FICTION

Fiction – Stories I make up for fun

RADIAN – A CROSSWORD STORY

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RADIAN – A CROSSWORD STORY

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I like making up stories using the words from a crossword game, “Words With Friends”. These words were used in random order, and are underlined in the story, and listed at the end. ūüôā

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RADIAN

Jo and Chamsthey have been friends since childhood. It was always their dream to become famous rock stars. They were always practicing their music. Both played guitar and sang songs in the school’s talent shows over the years. When they met Al and Caid, it was a true band that emerged at last.

Calling themselves Radian, they got gigs all over town. Everyone waved at them with their lighters or phone lights at their concerts. For small town boys, they managed to make a name for themselves.

Mostly, they played hard rock tunes…at¬†least at a club called “Mires“. That venue catered to the high school kids…no booze allowed, and no one over eighteen allowed in, either. Later on, their reputation for putting on a good stage show spread to outlying towns. They got themselves a manager by the name¬†of Tiden…well, that was his moniker, anyway. He never told anyone his real name. However, Al got a look at his driver’s liscense once; he saw Tiden’s real name was Gary.

The guys in the band had a good laugh about it, but let ‘Gary’ think he’d pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. They laughed behind his back, called him a ho and a sap, but he got them good venues to play, so eventually, they put a halt to the jokes.

As they all went on to attend the state college together, they continued to play their rock and roll, blowing out a few fuse boxes here and there.

All was going along great for awhile, and¬†they were of a legal drinking age by now. This did cause problems…mostly squabbling between the band members. They all wanted top billing, and that put them at odds.

One night, after drinking too much gin, Caid and Jo had a fight. Backstage, before a show, they came to blows. It seems Tiden had received a telefax from a record company, wanting to sign Radian to a record deal. Tiden decided to hide it, and not tell anyone.

This night, however, at a club called “Kane“, Jo was going over their playlist from A to Zee, when he saw the communication stuck in Tiden’s¬†briefcase. He almost got caught looking at it, when Tiden walked in unexpectedly, but Tiden only shooed Jo out of the office.

Jo promptly showed the others. That started the beef between them. The contract mentioned who would be primarily featured in their concerts and publicity pictures. Jo and Chams would be at the forefront, while Caid and Al would be only in the background.

A brawl ensued, which sent them all to the ER. The nurse put a ton of emu oil on their cuts and bruises, and only a lowly bandage for Chams’ lacerations on both sides of his jaws.

They eventually worked out their differences, by setting a trap for Tiden. They held his veg salad hostage, until he told them the truth about the record company. Tiden admitted he did wrong…he wasn’t anti success, but he was afraid he’d lose his meal ticket, as manager of the band, when they moved into the big time of the national spotlight. As he confessed, the guys, in unison, yelled and pointed at Tiden, telling him he was fired.

As Tiden left the building, Jo, Chams, Al, and Caid high fived, then called the record company, ultimately being signed to a four record deal, tours, and rotating top billing. This was acceptable.

They went on to become one of the most popular and beloved groups, from that day to the present time. Radian made history, and brought them all fame and fortune. Just like they’d envisioned all those years ago.

***

Words used from crossword game are underlined.

jo                           chams                           they                     been

rock                       al                                   caid                     emerged

radian                   waved                           boy                      hard

mires                    ti                                     wool                   ho

sap                        halt                                roll                      fuse

gin                         tele                                fax                       hide

kane                      zee                                 shoo                    beef

in                           er                                   puts                     ton

emu                       jaws                               anti                     trap

veg                        den

***

Hope you enjoyed my silly crossword story!

Peace, Love, & Laughter!

Thanks for visiting! }i{

© 2017 BS

 

LIFE LINK – for 3 LINE TALES – WEEK 31

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LIFE LINK – for 3 LINE TALES – WEEK 31

Three Line Tales, Week Thirty-One

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tltweek31tattoos

photo by Alex Hockett

LIFE LINK

Chain of memories all in sync.

Each one connected, link by link.

His life’s story told in ink.

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

NOW YOU SEE IT – NOW YOU DON’T – for FFfAW

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NOW YOU SEE IT – NOW YOU DON’T – for FFfAW¬†photo-20160724072916278

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/08/22/fffaw-challenge-week-of-august-23-2016/

This story is written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. It is a photo prompt, and should be no longer than 175 words in length. Enjoy!

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photo-20160821095532483

NOW YOU SEE IT – NOW YOU DON’T

“There’s his old pocket watch,” I hollered, as I dove for it, tackling it like a pro football player, before it could get away.

My family, I’ll admit, are a greedy bunch of gold-diggers, always looking for something for nothing, as the saying goes. So, when Gramps passed on, the will reading came as no surprise. We were all to gather out at the old homestead for a treasure hunt to beat all treasure hunts.

Gramps had hidden all his earthly treasures, and we had to find what we could. A time limit of two hours was specified. Any unfound goodies were to be donated to charity. So, we all began looking, inside, outside…everywhere.

But, something strange happened. As the items were found, they would be snatched away by an invisible hand, never to be seen again.

“What the heck, Gramps,” we wondered, but kept looking, grabbing what we could find.

When the two hours were up, we had nothing. I swear we heard Gramps laughing from beyond, as we trudged back to our cars.

***

word count = 175

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

 

 

CASHING IN – #SOCS – 8/13/16 – CASH

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Cashing In Р#SOCS Р8/13/16 РCash socsbadge2016-17

Today is another Stream of Consciousness Saturday,  with the prompt word being Cash.

We also have a brand new logo for our posts. The votes came in, and the winner was the one submitted by John Holton!

Here’s how to join in the Saturday fun, and also see other’s entries!

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS August 13/16

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Today, I’ve done something a bit different. I missed a few of the prompt Saturdays and wanted to see if I could back-track a bit and use the words in a short story. I did look up what they were for the last 25 week ends. That was all the pre-work on it I did. The rest of the story, as they say, came as an honest stream of consciousness flow. ūüôā

Here are the prompts, in the order they appeared, working back from today’s:

cash, ex, art, second, if/then, concentration, long, drink, class, mb (a word with those letters), book, press, brake/break, a 2 letter word, apparent, zoo, ta, no (number?), ha, be, real, egg, ball, this and that, food.

Hope you enjoy the story! ūüôā

***

CASHING IN

I’m ready to cash in all my chips. Isn’t that how the saying goes, when you’re ready to give up on whatever you’re trying to do?

I’ll go ahead and say it. “I’m an ‘ex’ artist.” Yeah, sad isn’t it?

I entered an art contest, and only came in second place. I know what you’re thinking, that it’s too soon to call it quits, and to just keep trying. Well, sure, I could draw some more, paint some more, sketch some more, but if I did, and then came in second place again, or worse, it would be embarrassing. I can’t take that chance. I now need to concentrate on another hobby/career path. I need to think long and hard on what I should do.

Know what? I need a drink. I surely do. That might settle my nerves.

We have a class reunion coming up soon. It’ll be ten years out of school, and what have I got to show for myself? A second place ribbon is all I’ve got. That’s all, and I feel so dumb. They’ll have the old school yearbooks for everyone to look back on. Yep, those were the ‘good ‘ol days’. They won’t be impressed by my accomplishments – I have none.

Oh, it’s apparent I’m a failure. No thanks…don’t want to go to that reunion zoo. Ta-ta to all that, I say. No. 10 get together will just have to go on without me. Ha-ha, am I being too real? Should I be a good egg, suck it up and go? No, I think not.

I’ll go to a ball game that night, instead. I’ll have more fun talking about this and that with other ball game enthusiasts. I can also get some good food at the stadium snack bar, too. Maybe, I’ll even have a beer or two. I’ll enjoy myself.

Then, when I get home, I can draw a picture of my fun day out. …wait…what did I say? Draw? heh-heh…I think I will! ūüôā

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

INITIATION – 3 LINE TALES – WEEK 26

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INITIATION -3 LINE TALES – WEEK 26

Three Line Tales, Week Twenty-Six

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tltweek26

photo by Maher El Aridi

INITIATION

Glowing softly, the  moonflower princesses glide silently across the countryside.

They are sent, once again, to welcome the most recently departed princess to their heavenly realm.

She will then be awarded an ethereal wedding gown, to commemorate her initiation into their most exclusive hereafter society.

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 19

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TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 19

Warning…adult content

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(19th installment)

warning…adult content

A few cars passed by, as Ghost lay there by the side of the road, but no one in them glanced toward the angel statue. The sun was beginning it’s slow descent toward the horizon, when an old, four door sedan passed by on the road.¬†The man inside had been this way before, and always looked for the angel statue as a landmark of sorts, to know he was on the right road leading to his home. This day he smiled and nodded as he drove by, but then something got his attention, and he slowed, then stopped the car.

He tried to figure out why the young man was lying there. Was he ok? Was he asleep? Was he injured? He told himself it wasn’t any of his business, and started to drive away, but he felt compelled to go back to see what was going on.

He stopped there on the side of the road, then walked cautiously over to the young man. He was shocked to see the bloody clothes and swollen face. As he reached out to touch a shoulder, trying to wake the still figure, he could see the rise and fall of the chest, so he knew he was still alive. He shook the shoulder a little more, and as the person roused, opening his sky blue eyes to a waking state, the man was startled at what they revealed.

“Ghost,” the man whispered.

Ghost nodded slightly. The man had never seen Ghost before, yet had said his name as if he had. He felt a strong connection to this Ghost person, and knew he had to take him to his home in the mountains. He gently put his arms under Ghost’s knees and back, and carried him to the old car. He tenderly laid him on the back seat, noticed Ghost shivering, so put an old, soft blanket over him. He brushed a golden strand of hair off¬†Ghost’s forehead, saying softly,

“You’ll be ok, Ghost. You’ll be home soon,” and he drove off. It was over two hundred miles to the man’s home, from near¬†the coast, where they were, up wooded, twisting roads, into the mountains.

***

¬†At last he was there. He still didn’t know why he’d brought Ghost home with him, but here he was. His wife would surely know what do do. She was a healer, after all. As he pulled up to their cabin, she came out, looking worried. Before she even knew about his mysterious passenger, she said,

“Bring him in here, hurry!”

They lifted Ghost from the car and carried him inside. He did not rouse, and they could see there was no light left in those amazing eyes. She looked at her husband,

“You know what I need. Bring me my tonics and herbs, quickly!”

When he returned, she administered the medicines to Ghost.

“He needs to be cleansed,” she said, drawing a warm bath.

The man nodded, and helped her undress Ghost. They both gasped as they saw the devastating injuries on Ghost’s body. They lowered him into the warm water, bathing him gently, washing away blood and dirt from his wounds, and his hair free of blood and debris. Even more than the washing away of blood, it was washing away some of the pain.

The gentleness of their actions soothed Ghost’s mind and soul. When they were finished, they clothed him in a soft flannel shirt of the man’s. It was very large and hung from Ghost’s thin frame, but he could feel the softness and was grateful. They took him to a small room, settling him into a soft bed there. He fell instantly asleep.

The woman and her husband sat at their kitchen table and talked.

“How did you know his name?” and “How did you know I brought someone home?” they questioned…and “What are we to do with him?”

Then, they revealed they both had felt a connection to Ghost, somehow, as if they knew him…then the wife exclaimed,

“Oh, my goodness, I think this must be Miz Deliverance’s grandson! That must be it. I knew something was nagging at me, something that was familiar. We haven’t heard from her in many years…maybe only once since she left the community.”

The two of them continued to discuss and ponder why Ghost was here now. How it had come to be that they had been the ones to find and care for him. As they talked, the wife prepared their supper. They knew Ghost needed to eat, and this would nourish him.

She brought up a tray for Ghost, and gently woke him…told him he must eat something, to keep up his strength. She helped him to sit up a bit, and took a spoonful of the dish she’d made, bringing it up to his lips. As he tasted it, he smiled slightly, because he knew it was the same potato soup his grandmother had taught him to make.

The wife had been good friends with Miz Deliverance for years, but when the troubles had begun, things changed. She didn’t know for sure, but doubted Ghost had ever been told the circumstances of his beginnings. She did hear from her friend later on, that she’d written a journal detailing everything, possibly to be given to Ghost after her passing. Just in case she’d never given it to him, the woman decided to write a note for him to find someday.

She wrote, “Ghost, your grandmother had many gifts, and was an exceptional woman. She loved you and cared for you when no one else would. She kept a secret journal, wherein everything would be revealed to you. If it has not, please search for it, possibly hidden in her house in Missing Mile. It will reveal her secrets…about her and about you, Ghost.

I know what she intended for you to know, but it is not for me to tell. The journal is very important. Do not fail in your search for it. My prayer for you is that the angels always watch over you, and keep you in their arms.” Then she took Ghost’s old backpack and hid the note in a small rip inside, to be found someday.

***

Ghost continued his slow healing, and was eventually able to join the man and wife. He told them some of his story about his time with his grandmother. Little by little his sky blue eyes were getting their light back. The couple encouraged him to go out in the community to meet people, and learn what he could of the mountain ways, which after all was his heritage.

In time his accent grew thicker, and he became knowledgeable of the ways of his ancestors. It came easily for him. But, to the community, though they were mostly accommodating and cheerful around him, they still considered him an outsider. Even though he adapted to their ways, they’d still give each other knowing looks…and Ghost, being the sensitive he was, could feel their hesitancy to accept him…could hear their thoughts, which were mostly negative.

This hurt Ghost’s heart. He was such a giving person, he couldn’t understand why most shunned him. His spirit grew restless. He felt it was time to move on. Toward what, he didn’t know, but the leering looks, the ‘accidental’ touches, the name calling, the bullying, had already begun from one group of guys.

So, he decided to go from the mountains…go face his destiny. It had been one year exactly since he’d come there.

***

Next part coming soon!

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some¬†backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and¬†original elements¬†of this story¬†are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story. 

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

***

 

 

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 9

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TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 9

warning…adult content

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9th installment

warning…adult content

 Morning came as it always did in Missing Mile, hot and humid, even this early. Kinsey had closed up the Yew the night before after everyone had left. Ghost and Steve had packed up and left, to sleep and to head out on their fishing adventure this morning. Kinsey chuckled at the thought of those two. He brewed a strong pot of coffee and sat thinking of what he had to do this day.

The bar wasn’t open in the mornings, but Terry knew Kinsey would be up, and he really needed a mug of the coffee he knew would be just about ready. As he quietly opened the door, he felt the refreshing coolness inside, and smelled the rich, dark coffee. Kinsey was seated at one of the tables, feet propped up on a chair.

“Hey, get yourself a cup,” Kinsey nodded toward the kitchen. They sat in companionable silence for a bit, letting the steaming mugs of liquid do it’s work in waking them up.

“Quite a show last night, huh?” mused Terry.

“Yeah, we did good on the count, and you guys were amazing! I can always depend on Lost Souls? to pack the house. I’m glad they’re back in town,” Kinsey replied.

“So, what’s everyone doing today?” asked Terry.

“Well, I’m cleaning up, and then we’ll be open for regular hours tonight. No bands are booked, so it’ll just be the¬†kids wanting food, beer, and games. The jukebox will have to do tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably drop in later. I have to go open the store in a little bit. I gave Steve the next couple days off,” said Terry. “Oh, what’s that I heard about them going fishing? Was that today?”

“Yep, them two had it all planned out. Gonna leave first thing this morning and head over to the lake,” Kinsey chuckled again. “I can’t even begin to imagine how that’ll go.”

“Hmm,” Terry mused. “Why don’t we sneak out there and see for ourselves? I’ll bet we’d get a few laughs out of it.”

“Yeah, that’d be something to see, but I got too much to do around here. I suspect we’ll hear all about it when they get back. Might be interesting to hear what they say. You know, we’ll be hearing two different versions of the thing. It’ll be funny to compare the two stories…and I do mean ‘stories’, ya know…neither one will be what actually went on.”

“You got that right, Kinsey,” laughed Terry, as he got up to leave. “See ya later.”

Kinsey went to get the supplies to begin his chores.

~

Meanwhile, at the house out on Burnt Church Road, Steve prodded Ghost to get up.

“Get your ass outta bed, Ghost, we’ve got fish to catch!”

“Wha…what time is it?” mumbled Ghost.

“Time to go, man…I’ve already got the T-Bird packed. Get your butt in gear and let’s get outta here,” Steve replied in a sing-song voice.

“You made a rhyme, Steve, that’s funny,” said Ghost, as he burrowed deeper into his blankets. Steve yanked off the covers, grabbed Ghost by the ankles and dragged him to the floor.

“Get up, NOW!” he said, as he left the room.

Ghost rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way to the kitchen in search of coffee. He poured a cup from the pot Steve had made earlier. Going into the living room, he sat cross legged on the couch. He could hear Steve pacing around on the porch.

“Guess I better get dressed,” he thought, “before Steve comes back in here.”

Too late, Steve slammed open the screen door and stood looking at Ghost. He pretended to be mad, but really, he was thinking how cute Ghost looked, all sleepy soft, and messy hair, his eyes looking at him over his hot coffee cup. Steve shoook his head and just said, “Hurry up,” and he smiled

Ghost bit his lower lip and whispered, “Ok.”

~

Finally, they were on their way to the lake. It was only outside of town a short way. Steve was in a good mood. He babbled on about what fun they were going to have. Ghost just looked doubtful. After finding what Steve deemed a good spot to find fish, they lugged the fishing poles, a dilapidated old Army tent, a cooler of beer, and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Steve had put together, over to the lake’s edge.

“What now, Steve?” Ghost asked. “I never done this before, ya know.”

“Hmm,” said Steve. “Let me get the fishing stuff ready, and you can put up the tent.”

He started off with the poles and bait bucket, while Ghost just stood there staring at the tent. He had no idea what to do to put it together. It was one of those old fashioned canvas one, from an Army supply store. They’d had it for years. It was unwieldy, with wooden poles, ropes, and pegs. It was also dusty and had cobwebs on it. It smelled funky from being stored for so long.

“Ewww, this is gross,” Ghost wrinkled his nose in disgust, but he started to unroll it anyway. As he did, a big spider scuttled out of the rolls of canvas.

“Aiiii,”¬†Ghost hollered and started hopping around, sure the giant monster spider had somehow jumped on him. He was flapping his arms, and stomping his feet, and shaking his hair all around. Steve looked over in alarm, thinking Ghost was having some kind of psychic fit or something.

“Ghost! What’s wrong?” he hollered.

“I think it touched me! I think it bit me…I think I’m gonna die out here! And you don’t even care!” Ghost wailed.

Steve ran over, trying to find out what Ghost was actually screaming about. “Slow down, dude, what bit you?”

“It was a giant, ugly spider…do you see it on me, Steve, do you? Look on my back, look in my hair…Oh, Steve, get it off me!”

Steve looked, and brushed Ghost off, but never saw any spider. “It’s ok now,” he said, to a much relieved Ghost. “It’s gone.”

He started laughing. He laughed until he thought his sides would burst. “Dude, you screamed like a little girl. I never saw anybody flap around like that in my life!” Steve was rolling on the ground, holding his stomach. “Oh, my God, I wish I had a camera, Ghost. You should’a seen yourself.” He went on and on.

Ghost did not think it was funny at all. “Fuck you, Steve. Just fuck you!”

Steve looked up at Ghost, and still laughing, said, “Is that all you got to say? Huh? Let’s hear what the funny guy has to say.”

Ghost gave him a look of daggers, but didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he let Steve have it. He rarely lost his cool, but Steve deserved his wrath.

“You asshole, Steve,” Ghost said in a deadly calm voice, his blue eyes stormy. “You dragged me out here in the middle of nowhere, and you know I hate stuff like this. You probably hoped I’d get freaked out about something, so you could be all ‘I have to save Ghost from his crazy ideas’ and be a big shot. Well, congratulations, Steve, you got your wish. So, I’m walking home now. You can stay here and fish your brains out.” He turned and stomped away.

“Ghost…” Steve started.

Ghost turned back and hollered,”And furthermore…I DON’T KILL FISH!”

Steve just blinked at the sight of his best friend’s back, as he left. He’d never seen Ghost so mad. “Damn,” he said to himself. “Well, he’ll be back soon enough.”

He set about his task of baiting the fish-hooks, dropping them in the water, and waiting. He was waiting for a bite, and waiting for Ghost to return.

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace

© 2016 BS

***

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some¬†backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and¬†original elements¬†of this story¬†are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story. 

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

***

Next part coming soon!

Peace, Love, & Writing

 

FILAMENTS (don’t read if you’re squeamish) – 3 Line Tales Week 17

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Photo by Wynand von Poortvliet

FILAMENTS (don’t read if you’re squeamish) – 3 Line Tales Week 17

The gastroenterologist asked me if I wanted to see the results of my abdominal MRI.

“Sure, but what does it mean,” I asked, when I viewed the scan, not worried at all, because my symptoms weren’t that bad.

He pointed out the tiny filaments protruding from my intestines, and said, “These are worms, and there’s nothing we can do.”

***

For 3LineTales

Three Line Tales, Week Seventeen

Write 3 lines using the photo prompt.

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 8

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TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 8

warning…adult content

~

8th Installment

warning…adult content

The club was soon filled with hungry and excited kids. Food orders were kept coming and the drinks and sandwiches were disappearing fast. Kids milled around, listening to the jukebox, playing pool and video games, and reading the wall. Some looked confused at the strange new writing Ghost had put on there earlier that morning. It was scribbled and unfinished, just as they’d left it.

“Wow, that seems like so long ago,” Kinsey thought. It had been a long day.

Steve and Ghost slowly made their way to the stage, greeting the kids along the way. This is what the kids had been waiting for. Lost Souls? were back in town, and they were ready for the music to start.

Steve got his guitar, and Ghost got his microphone. Terry and R.J. were sitting in tonight, too, on drums and bass. They did so occasionally, and this was one night they didn’t want to miss out on. Steve strummed the strings and nodded to the guys in back. As he played the first notes of the first song, he nodded at Ghost and smiled. Ghost grinned and began singing.

Tonight’s set was going to be mostly covers of southern rock songs, with a couple of their own originals thrown in the mix. They always included¬† their “World”* song and “We Are Not Afraid”. The crowd stood transfixed as the golden, gravelly voice of Ghost began the first song…a cover of the Eagles, “One Of These Nights”.* When Ghost sang, he was the song, and he brought everyone along with him. From the first to last note, from the first to last song, Ghost was who he was meant to be.

Kinsey watched the magic happen. With a new-found knowledge of how Steve and Ghost meshed together, he could see that every song was chosen very carefully, whether anyone knew or not, to be a meaningful, loving tribute to each other. That gave the show, the songs, the looks Steve and Ghost gave each other on stage, and even the smiles, the movements, and the banter to the crowd a whole, new fuller, more special dimension.

Kinsey felt his eyes begin to sting at the love he felt between those two. “Damn, I’m a silly old fool, getting all choked up at a couple of employees,” he thought, “but they are more than that,” he knew. They were more like family, in a way. He continued to watch as the show progressed through a foot stomping cover of Pure Prairie League’s, “Amie.”*

Everyone was having a great time. As the songs neared the finale, they sang “Serenade”,* by the Steve Miller Band, which was always an eerie kind of song, but fit so well with Steve and Ghost and the club kids they played for. Without a pause, it segued into the anthem they always ended the show with, “Hole in the World”*, by the Eagles. Those were the very first words of the very first song Ghost had written on the wall.

Steve and Ghost stood back to back, as if they would always be together and have each other’s back, no matter what…and if you’re not alone, if you have that special someone, you will not be afraid of anything. Blond shining hair and ebony curls mingled together as they sang and played their last song of the night. The crowd drew closer, mesmerized by the words and the rhythmic beats all around them.

By the time the last vibrations of the guitar had echoed off the walls, Steve and Ghost both were in tears. Tears of sadness, tears of love, tears of hope…that their lives would mean something…that there was a reason they were here at this time and this place.

The crowd was holding on to each other as they swayed together, shedding their own tears for humanity and the future. Kinsey was moved to tears of his own this night, for reasons he knew, and something else he felt in the air, in the electricity, in the essence of everyone here, but especially for Ghost and Steve. Something very unsettling to him…but, he knew not what it was.

***

*”One of These Nights” by the Eagles (Don Henley/Glenn Frey; Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.)

*”Amie” by Pure Prarie League (Craig Lee Fuller; Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.)

*”Serenade” by The Steve Miller Band (Sailor Records/Capitol Records, Inc.)

*”Hole in the World” by the Eagles (Don Henley/Glenn Frey; Universal Music Publishing Group)

***

Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS

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This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some¬†backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and¬†original elements¬†of this story¬†are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story. 

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

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Next part coming soon!

 

HE STILL RIDES

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photo by Kirsty TG

 

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HE STILL RIDES

I thought the antique letter box was a nice addition to my garden decorations.

Three nights later, I wasn’t so sure.

Hearing the sound of hoofbeats, I peeked out of my bedroom curtains, to see the ghostly image of a horse and rider, trampling my plants.

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For: 3LineTales – Week 16 – write a 3 line story, using the photo prompt.

Three Line Tales, Week Sixteen

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Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2016 BS