Positively absolutely
I am twenty year old guy from Sweden, so english isn't my native language. This is the first time I'm trying to create longer segments of more story-like character, where before all I wrote was short poems. Any feedback is highly appreciated. Jack Kerouac is I think my greatest inspiration in the following texts.The grammar i use is new to me and somewhat experimental, so any input would really help me out!
Please note that these texts are excerpts from larger pieces and in many cases incoherent to each other.
...
I traveled by Mercery Link, seaside of green waters with plastic bags and tin cans. Nesting kingfishers kept a close eye, looking sharp. Meeting no cars at all the bus kept marching with its monotone susurrus of diesel and rubber. Untouched, smooth concrete road more frequently used by alligators as a patio than by man as a true freeway. A coco-eyed palm tree looked down upon me from its bend, proud as of Lucifer, adamant to its roots – standing any wind. Where nature holds something against man it will by chance tear one apart. From here the greyhound ventured through a vale preceded by the four horsemen of Conquest, War, Famine and Death – charred souls and blistering grounds: bushfire grounds of passed Rowan and Mountain Pine light-forest. Bitter olive trees had already worked their roots into nutritious soil of ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Fire be the bringer of destruction, the force of Aamon, but also of divine rebirth. Coming to a stop at Devon we all jumped it; even the people that had tickets for the long ride kicked it and just couldn't stand it any more. The visions together with the steaming tube of turquoise-plastic fake leather that is a 1995-built long distance bus reached an apogee and crashed into the ground in a burning scrap heap of red, blue and unidentified colour; having to be raked off from the ground. I happened to know that the smartest hitchhiker wears his finest clothes – so I wiped off my suit jacket and went to the road-stop restaurants. The sun was leering and the concrete seething with heat visions. A stroll of two kilometers took a big bite of me – I could feel my pulse as much as I could see it: always travel with water... always travel with water... I went to the petrol station for running water and as I filled my bottles I got my eyes on a big, black, ferocious pickup truck with blank insect eyes and its motor-hood wide open; none around. I found apposite pray in man dressed like Florida: tucked in shirt, sleeves pulled up and glasses fitting his square face – healthy eater – positively absolutely a city man heading home.
Short story by NDF
Read 838 times
Written on 2011-08-22 at 14:21
Tags Feedback Biography Story
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
