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posted on Sep, 25 2016 @ 11:47 AM
The cool breeze drifted off of a September morning like a fog drifting of a disparate lake,
as the noon day sun ditched itself behind bushes of clouds sun barely edging out to dance specter brief dances on the end of a long walk and this is where our story begins.

Nicolas sat plump little legs dangling in the air his inverted reflection shining his Keds across the surface with his fisher price plastic reel...

a murky depths sank deep within waiting for such a bright heart on the end of his line...

his mother unaware he had woken up with the chickens nested deep in her feather mattress and lush brown comforter four pillows glossed over the back for when she felt like sitting up for a nice cup of coffee on her lap tray. Frank was away and she was used to fresh fish for breakfast from the dock to their quaint little pond that over looked a sea of trees from an under ground spring. Her maternal alarm clock did not register from the circadian buzz of partnership frank had instilled her lovingly with... as he and Nick would often go down on Sunday mornings for the fresh catch of Bass and Brim the coffee usually did the job as the wall grinder swung into action and a kiss was what would wake her after her nose hit the snooze button pretending to be asleep to smile the brightest rays of sun her eyes squinted against.

Nick sat glaring at the end of the weathered dock that they had installed years previously as the mechanization of building a house into a home. They were a loving couple for many years before Nick came along. Nick always wanted to be like Frank admiring the acceptance he showered on Karen and himself. Walking in franks foot steps he had made his way down the little path to the graying dock of smooth splinters and oxidizing nails The posts cracked and smooth as the knots wept sticky tears during the summer heat.

The vision of his line being too short never bothered him before... the deep set eyes wavered not a sideways glance but fixated hard and cold as if it was stone for many ages waiting for this exact moment as it slowly crept to the surface barely perceivable to any eye save it’s own. It’s hunger had grown ravenous over these many years seemingly as eons in the depths even before the spring had been tapped for the pond... seeping slowly as the ground was first cleared in the 1800’s for colonist expansion South.

It had been many things before then, a saloon, a hotel after the whores and prohibition were axed to death chasing the lechers deeper to the South a plantation was not that far away in those days and some legends say thats were such things lay in wait for those without pure hearts to grow power and strength from them as they sleep deeply nestled delusional from drink and pussy. The blood often flowed out back from the fights spilling over into the night and the wire birthed babies for the opossums that crept as the player piano spooled it’s calliope in the newest tunes yet to make it Westward.

One shoestring undone dangling the other double tied in a fit that could barely get them on worried Karen would wake up before her could land breakfast... Nick decided to stand up and try laying down to be able to get closer remembering he nearly drowned in July and was told to not lean forward... he thought he saw something shiny and yelled treasure! and that’s the last thing he remembered before drinking what seemed to be the entire pond having fell mouth first and nearly out of breath.

The occasional late season dragonfly drifted past skimming the surface breaking through the fog as miniature Huey’s through fog over the Vietcong delta, as the fish flipped for a delicacy to remember all winter long preening for anything similar.

The fish were often left on the slightly hungry side since being stocked devouring competitions eggs and fighting with flashes of fury sparking those fireworks into a pop of roe releasing their own future into dragons themselves.

As Nick stood up his little hand still trying to fight from baby to boy still clinging waiting from a growth spurt he had a slight stunt from a sickness that left him inactive most of the summer as he placed his hand down and bore weight the eyes took pause and grew wide fearing it’s moment would come undone it’s hatred boiling up as the kettle howled Karen smiled deep and got her stretch in order to give a limber relaxed embrace that reminder her the first dance she and Frank shared in their socks as “What dreams may come...” echoed out of the copper horn record player, she thought was a little bit frivolous, but she came to appreciate Franks insistence as when the power went out from a summer storm it provided a nice romantic holiday from the electrical buzz of modern living... where fear normally ruled in such occasions the love kept all at bay in a dream of utter satisfaction with wanting to cuddle in such storms and not in fear as she did when voices drowned out all existence and she drifted cloudless staring blankly as the heat between her parents were not one of passion but friction building into a deep seated hidden despair not yet to be seen until her teens she bottled up so much idealism in such dreams of fancy sleeping beauty would awake in the hell of reality at first kiss.

A splinter slid at the same time Nicks hand and they ended up together in an instant he wailed and an Karen sat up in extreme fear Frank was away! Kettle! Nick screaming... her fear was moving faster than her body could bladder full as that pond that became the worst idea since July in that very moment Nick had fallen in.

Nick squealed and splashed, Karen was at the bottom of the steps gliding as if on a gliding on their freshly waxed hardwood as they often did in games of indoor ice skating in woolen socks but this was no fun it was terror... as she dashed the pond shook as her eyes were steady and the world shook under her intent as her last breath lay still at her silent scream was busy cracking wine glasses in Vienna.

Nick yet was sinking again in her heart as a bulldozer contract was being phoned to fill the damned thing in with he minds eye she leaped as if she had jumped from the top of the steps heart out racing far ahead at the phone call to Frank.

Frank had received a call that one of his childhood friends parents had passed away and was out of town.

posted on Sep, 25 2016 @ 11:54 AM
a reply to: BigBrotherDarkness

Awesome one!!!

posted on Sep, 25 2016 @ 01:00 PM
a reply to: Quantum12

Thanks Quantum it's fresh off of the draft and and really raw. Working it into a novel so of course that means write write write rewrite and write some more rinse repeat. Draft after draft... forming the outline is something I haven't ever done when writing, so much of it is always in raw from.

Since November is National Novel writing month, I decided to get a head start on it.

Natonal Novel Writing Month

I'll post a clean draft up to the point left off after it is written and into second draft...

So the dock hanger has to be left up in the air for a while...

perhaps the real horror is the suspense...

posted on Sep, 25 2016 @ 01:11 PM
a reply to: BigBrotherDarkness

You are doing a amazing job on your story!!!
edit on 9 25 2016 by Quantum12 because: (no reason given)

posted on Sep, 26 2016 @ 06:33 AM
a reply to: Quantum12

It's a work of fiction not any sort of reality...

But thanks for the

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