Creative Corner (grammar, quote, stories)

[dizzybint]

whos Hannah and tell me what you mean.. Im lost have I put my story on the wrong place...

[dizzybint]

:can I have some of what your having...

[Annuvin]

Stacey smiled at me as I opened the door to let her in. Her long brunette hair framed her big, bright eyes as she flashed her perfect, white teeth. I smiled back and moved aside so she could enter. I had convinced her to come over despite only having a single coffee date after a random meeting at the library. It seemed that despite my affliction, I could still charm the ladies.

As she followed me into the living room, Stacey remarked what a nice house I lived in. I told her it was well over 100 years old and my grandmother had lived in it as a little girl. She fawned over the countless antiques that decorated the house as I told her it looked pretty much the same as it did when my grandmother was a little girl. We sat on the couch and I glanced at the time. It was only 6:20 and our dinner reservation wasn't until 7:30. I suggeested that maybe a drink may be just the thing to start off the evening.

She graciously accepted the glass of merlot I poured for her. As I sipped my scotch, she told me about her recent trip to Cancun, and asked me where I worked. I told her I was an investment broker and maybe I could help her with her finances sometime. She smiled and said she would like that. I noticed her glance at the faded square where the old mirror used to be, but when she looked back at me she was smiling again, and I knew she was comfortable with me. We continued chatting for a few more minutes until she asked to use the bathroom. I led her back down the hallway to the water closet, and returned to the living room. A few minutes later she returned and sat down. It was then she asked why I there was no mirror in the bathroom, and glancing at the faded square on the wall, why it seemed there were no mirrors anywhere in the house. I smiled at her and told her about my affliction.

You see, I have this problem when I look at others in that I can see their death on their face. When I was quite a bit younger, it terrified me that I knew when people were going to die. I used to keep myself locked up in my room for weeks afraid to go outside. Eventually I reasoned that if I could see other's deaths, I would also be able to see my own. That was the day I had all the mirrors removed from the house. For the longest time, I stayed completly indoors. I was terrified of seeing my reflection in a puddle, or in a random mirror at a shop or store. The library became my only place of refuge, as I could lose myself among the shelves of books without fear of seeing my reflection within them. I would spend hours there looking for clues as to why I was cursed with this affliction to no avail. However, that did not stop me from continuing my search, and eventually that is how I met Stacey.

However, as I spoke to her in the library that day I could see something in her face. I saw the mask of death on her, and it was then I began to understand. It wasn't a curse I was afflicted with, it was a kind of dark blessing. I realized I had been charged with keeping the scales in check, so to speak. It was my duty to ensure that those who's time had come kept their appointment with destiny, and unfortunately tonight was Stacy's turn.

I believe the drug I spiked her wine with was dulling her senses, as she seemed to take a while to process what I told her. But as she realized the truth in what I said, she struggled to get up. I gently pushed her back down and assured her that it would be painless. I had spent hours researching the fastest and most painless methods while I had been living in fear of myself. She was panicking now, trying to push me away and fight off the throes of the drugs I had given her. I told her to stop struggling, and pushed her hands back down on the couch. She was trying to scream now, and as I leaned over to clamp a hand over her mouth, her hand came up and flashed something shiny in my face.

A mirror.

I stared at the compact, my own reflection staring back at me as I recoiled in terror. Stacey was on her feet now, and I could see the rest of the contents of her purse had spilled out all over the couch in our struggle. I cried out as I heard her open the front door, but it was already too late. She was gone and it was only a matter of time before they arrived for me. Not that it mattered anyway. I got up and ran to the front door, locking it. I knew what I had to do. As I climbed the stairs, I could see the noose I had tied for Stacey; the same one I saw tied around my own neck in my reflection. Taking a deep breath, I continued up to the table I set under the rope at the edge of the railing.

*****

This was an idea I had for a while and finally wrote it down tonight. Any and all input is greatly appreciated.

[tulani]

Originally Posted by Annuvin

snipped...
This was an idea I had for a while and finally wrote it down tonight. Any and all input is greatly appreciated.

I really enjoyed that!
It reminds me of something Robin Cook would write, although it always takes him hundreds of pages to let us know the "who, what and why".
Good job.

[Annuvin]

Thank you!

I have a few other ideas I want to get feedback on before I dive into my first novel. I have wrote on and off for years but never seriously. I'll post more here once I write them down.

Thanks again for the encouragement!

[2cold]

OK for a complete and total change of pace, a very, very offbeat tale.

DAISY, her story

Once she was known as Hagerstown model 339-7 dollhouse, but she preferred to think of herself as Daisy.

Most of the time she sat on her shelf in the toy store dreaming of the day she’d be taken down and wrapped up for a trip to her new home. After all, there wasn’t much to see or do on a shelf.

“I wonder what color they’ll paint me”, she thought. “I hope I get to be yellow, I do so love yellow. Maybe they’ll give me shutters. Dingly Dell # 72 has them. I’d like green ones. Green goes so nicely with yellow paint. Oh, and a green door, maybe with a flowery wreath. Oh, a heart shaped flowery wreath like on the house in the calendar picture.”

She sighed contentedly dreaming her pretty dollhouse dreams.

One day a customer pointed straight at her as she spoke to the clerk. “Oh joy!” Daisy thought. “It’s my day! This is it!”

Yes indeed, the clerk walked straight over to her and lifted her down off the shelf. “Goodbye, girls!” she trilled to the other dollhouses. “Goodbye, Sam!” she called to the log cabin, and “Adieu, Sebastien!” to the tall, stately stone manor house.

In no time at all she was in her new home, ready to be transformed into the house of her dreams. Sure enough, bright and early next morning her lady started gathering her tools. There were scissors, and cutting knives, glues, rulers, and a stack of colored papers.

“Jiminy Crickets! Wallpaper!” Daisy practically screamed with delight.

She relaxed as expert hands began their work. “Gee,” Daisy thought. “That wallpaper is awful red. I was hoping for a pretty rose colored floral in that room. Oh well. Maybe she plans on mahogany bedroom furniture. Some of that mahogany stuff looks really grand with dark red wallpaper. Of course, that paper sure is red-red.”

Later that afternoon the lady took out a shiny brass bed and put it into the red room, then she stepped back for a look. Daisy was dubious about the brass bed and the fancy red velvet wallpaper. “Yes, please, lady, think it over. Mahogany would be a nicer choice. I’m sure you’ll agree.” But the lady left the brass bed in the room.

The next day the lady selected a pink wall paper. “That’s better”, Daisy thought. “Pink is such a nice ladylike color, though I’m not so sure about it being next to that red room. Still, furniture does make the room, after all. It’s not just about the wallpaper.”

The lady laid the pink wallpaper on the table. It was shot through with gold stripes and red and blue flowers. Daisy just about faded away in embarrassment. She had dreamed of being a tastefully dressed yellow cottage with a green door and green shutters and white trim, with maybe a pretty picket fence in front. “I think the lady‘s taste in colors leaves something to be desired,” she thought. “Maybe she’s color blind,” she added charitably.

The next day the lady returned from shopping with some fancy gilded mirrors for Daisy’s bedrooms. She placed more furniture into the bedrooms, including a tufted red velvet couch for the red room, “Well, that it a pretty couch,” Daisy thought, and a pink dresser with flowers that matched the wallpaper for the pink room. “I hope she didn’t pay extra for that” sighed Daisy.

The lady also added some pretty little embroidered cushions. One said ‘Love’ another said ‘San Francisco’, and Daisy couldn’t make out the rest. Next the lady glued some pretty pictures of flowers and ladies on the wall and added a stitched sampler to the red room that said ‘He who loves longest loves best’. “I wonder what that’s supposed to mean?” pondered Daisy.

Part II

The next day the lady started on the parlor. She glued in some pale gold wallpaper that was decorated with sprays of delicate flowers and a bit of gilding. “Oh, that looks quite nice”, thought Daisy, hopefully.

A beautiful walnut parlor set followed, upholstered in light blue satin, accompanied by a matching piano. The lady hung blue satin draperies on the windows that matched the parlor set. Daisy was very happy. The upstairs rooms may be in not quite the best of taste, but the parlor was more than making up for it. Even the rug was absolutely perfect. It was the most gorgeous room Daisy could ever imagine and she began to feel much better.

A few days later the lady came into the workroom with some bags. She pulled a can of paint out of one. “Oh, goody, goody”, Daisy thought, “Maybe I get painted today!”

The lady had already painted Daisy’s window trim white, and Daisy was eager to see what sort of a face she’d be presenting to the world. “Yellow, yellow, please let me be yellow. She’s opening the can…..oh boy, oh boy, I’m going to be…..red? I’m too little and cute to be red”, she pouted.” Big barns are red, little houses aren’t red”.

There was nothing Daisy could do but sit there and be painted red. “What’s the matter with this woman? What is she thinking?” Daisy was getting downright peeved.

There was just one room left to decorate. “Well,” Daisy sighed, “She can’t mess up a kitchen. No matter what she does I’m sure the kitchen will do. It certainly can’t look as bad as the bedrooms or my (sniff) front.”

The lady laid some pieces of stained wood on the table. “Why,” Daisy thought, “that looks like paneled wainscot, and very nice wainscot indeed, in mahogany yet. Who puts mahogany wainscot in a kitchen?” She settled back and waited to see what came next.

“Oh, maybe it won’t be a kitchen after all. Maybe I’ll have a library.”

The idea of having a library within her little walls made her feel very grand indeed. She felt quite puffed up with that thought.

The lady brought out a white box. “Maybe it’s a fireplace! No, the box is too big for a fireplace. Maybe there’s bookcases in there, no, it’s still too big for that. Or maybe it’s a library set all in one box, like kitchen sets or living room sets, like the ones they used to sell in the store!”

She waited.

“What’s that? Why……it’s a bar…..a mahogany bar.”

Indeed it was, a magnificent mahogany bar and the wainscot matched it exactly. It even had a delicate brass rail that ran along the bottom. The lady had also bought tiny green and brown bottles with pretty labels and the smallest glasses you could ever imagine, all made of real, tinkling glass. She added a matching table with two little chairs with red velvet seats. Next she hung a picture of a lady in a big gilded frame.

“Oh my,” blushed Daisy. “ Why, she has no clothes on. Wait a minute………”. A thought had begun to cross Daisy’s mind. “Not that, no it can’t be.”

The lady opened another box. In it lay a small doll. The doll had long black hair and a lacy peignoir. Daisy could see right through the lace that she had a corset tied in pink ribbons and pink garters, with a pink rose on one of them.

“Oh, noooooo!!” wailed Daisy in despair, “I’m a House of Assignation!!!! I’ll never be able to hold my head up again! Oh the shame…..” She whimpered silently, and later that night, when she was all alone, she cried herself to sleep.

The weeks passed. Daisy was on display in the lady’s living room, and none too happy to be so. “She should be ashamed of herself,” she pouted . “I’m certainly ashamed of myself and I didn’t even do anything.” Every time a visitor came in to see her Daisy just wished she could shrink into 144 scale.

One day Daisy was tenderly packed into a large box and taken on a long trip. “What now?“ she moaned. Her nerves caused her clapboards to feel too tight, and she was sure her shingles must be curling. “I wish I could have stayed on my own shelf in the toy store.” She began to wail, and once again, cried herself to sleep.

When she woke she found herself in a very large room and there were hundreds of people milling about. Many of them were stopping to look at her. She could see big banners overhead that said Northeast Miniatures Fair. “Oh fine,” she thought angrily. “The woman turns me into a bordello and now she wants to get rid of me. Yes, people, take a good look at gaudy, tawdry, tacky me. My life is ruined anyway.”

Just then something was placed on the table just in front of her. “What’s that? What’s it say? I can’t read upside down writing very well. Wait a minute, it looks like a blue ribbon. It says…..”

“First Prize goes to….” announced the loudspeaker. Daisy didn’t hear the rest. She didn’t need to. By then she had deciphered the upside down writing on the blue ribbon. It said, First Prize.

So, Daisy didn’t get to be a sweet little yellow cottage with green shutters and a white picket fence, but then again, it’s not every Hagerstown model 339-7 dollhouse that gets to be a prizewinning bordello.

[tulani]

Originally Posted by 2cold

OK for a complete and total change of pace, a very, very offbeat tale.

DAISY, her story

That was a very sweet, well written story.

Daisy did learn "not to judge a book by its cover".

[Reziac]

Originally Posted by 2cold

OK for a complete and total change of pace, a very, very offbeat tale.

DAISY, her story

Haha! Very nice. I heard the "upscale-bordello" thing coming as soon as the pink wallpaper appeared ... and it all flowed so nicely and inevitably, at just the right pace and in just the right voice -- the voice is conversational and a tad off-human (almost sounding "built", just like a dollhouse), so it's easy to believe it's the dollhouse's POV. Good job.

[2cold]

Thank you. It just came to me one day. I've written two other stories about dollhouses, but I won't inflict them you.

[Reziac]

Originally Posted by 2cold

Thank you. It just came to me one day. I've written two other stories about dollhouses, but I won't inflict them you.

Heh, now I'm curious... and just had the thought that perhaps dollhouses write stories about humans.