manslaughter is always on my mind. i didn't mean to do anything like that but it happened. i wielded a knife and a guy tumbled to the ground. I didn't mean it at all..
he was shaking all over, his teeth clambering, his head shaking in disbelief. he could imagine smelling the rot setting in the body. they were by the river. the grass laid over to either sides of the river, accompanied with usual towering trees and slouching branches and the smell of impending autumn coming to flavour.
should i kick him into the river and have it done with? or should i pretend to care and call the police. should i pretend to be innocent? no. the police will know. this is a secluded area, not the parks we know. i am innocent of murder, but i feel guilt of a grim reaper, robbing a guy of his adventures, his ideal world. i am sure they feel guilt in their work. i know what to do. its the only way i know how.
soon, the day ended as it began, with yawns and sleepy eyes, the scenery a blood red.
there was dirt in his shoes, sweat bearing on his forehead, he thought about what had happened. it was funny but not too much. he held his knife like a pro, swung it wildly in the thick of the bushes like the warrior he was in his utopia. He slashed and slashed and felt adrenalin push him on and he continued his controlled madness, ready to be embarassed by a stray onlooker. Another guy was fishing and he was doing a good job with idling, he had a few medical problems already and felt fishing was a form of release. He was unfortunate to be behind a bush when the slasher was around but not in the way one would imagine.
The fisher hear the sound of cracking branches and rustle of leaves and he turned and stood and he saw a blade barely slicing his chest, patches of red blood oozed on his shirt from superfical cuts. Shocked, he clutched his chest and felt a tightening of his heart, as if the air was sucked out of him and he looked on as a person emerged from the bushes with a non chalent look that changed into that of shock followed by a horrified look.
I killed him! i stabbed his chest like plunging holes into cheese and he's down on the floor. The blood.. oh my god.. what have i done? He thought. The poor guy was in cardiac arrest and he misdiagnosed his crime. But he wasn't a doctor after all.
This is the blog and website of the author James Kidac, and we do a few short stories about Akira, Becky and their friends here.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Alice
a rainbow.
somewhere.
i wish i could see a rainbow,
the ends of the rainbow, the mystery,
the fuss over such glaring sweet nothings.
i heard a whisper
barely a hint
open your eyes..
i heard it again
open your eyes..
***
i closed my eyes..
feel the air carousing me in,
like a tornado, only more gentle.
this dress hung on me like a starched suit,
i didn't feel anything to this world.
the routines we obliged ourselves into following
the things we deem we need,
small small details otherwise lost..
in this vast world.
is this it all?
the loss of mystery only papered over with
only sleazes that hold no value..
open your eyes
i am.. i am..
open your eyes
i tried.. i tried..
where did things go wrong?
we had a plan..
at the very very least
A hat for a plan..
somewhere.
i wish i could see a rainbow,
the ends of the rainbow, the mystery,
the fuss over such glaring sweet nothings.
i heard a whisper
barely a hint
open your eyes..
i heard it again
open your eyes..
***
i closed my eyes..
feel the air carousing me in,
like a tornado, only more gentle.
this dress hung on me like a starched suit,
i didn't feel anything to this world.
the routines we obliged ourselves into following
the things we deem we need,
small small details otherwise lost..
in this vast world.
is this it all?
the loss of mystery only papered over with
only sleazes that hold no value..
open your eyes
i am.. i am..
open your eyes
i tried.. i tried..
where did things go wrong?
we had a plan..
at the very very least
A hat for a plan..
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