Fiction
Why does he still haunt my thoughts? I remember how sad I was when I first saw the man at the tracks. Looking deeper into the Sigul I see him sitting and waiting for what looks like hours, then time seeps to speed up and I see the clouds race across the sky and the sun rise and set in only a few moments and yet the man at the tracks does not move but I can see he is becoming thinner I think he will die soon, if not from starvation then from a lack of will to live. I realize now that he wasn't looking for me but desperately clinging onto whatever he saw through those tracks. He wants to die. I start to turn my head away unable to watch a man starve to death in time lapse then I see an eye. An eye that I spent the happiest years of my life looking at a blue eye that has one brown speckle in the bottom. This brown speckle is surrounded by blue a blue that is soft like the sky with flakes that are hard like steel. I start to see more and my heart leaps at the thought of simply seeing by beloved's face once more but it is a boy's face that holds this eye. He is not alone but with a girl. The boy looks to be around sixteen and the girl a few years younger. They are brother and sister, it just seems to fit how they walk together approaching the man at the tracks. She has blue eyes as well but they seem to be composed of steel even though her heart is soft. It is her that urges her brother on towards the man at the tracks. View from above blond curly hair hand made clother and a purse, feeding nursing leaving
I was not sad because I saw him because I thought he was a hallucination. I was simply unhappy with my life. That point in my daily commute when I crossed the tracks seemed to be important to me somehow. I wonder just how long he has been looking for me and what does he want to do with me? It would be a welcome relief to see another person. The years I have spent here have been in utter desolation.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
A visit from the man at the tracks
Story continues
I keep staring at the Sigul and the lines that make it visible to me start to separate and become more distinct. It raises up from the ground and it starts to flow. The shape stays the same but the material inside starts to blur together in its movement inside the tube. It lifts from the ground and starts making it's way to me. The lines start moving faster and faster, what started out as very disguised lines, then streaky lines turn into a silvery blur similar to mercury but more solid and metallic as it is changing colors and moving towards me it is also rotatiin vertically giving it the impression that it was waiting there for me to see it. It was so large that it was raised above me even thouth it was hovering at the bottom of the hill. Now it is shrinking and condensing at the same time moving up the abandoned blacktop that just a few moments ago I was remembering what it looked like when I saw it fresh. It is front of me now and I see my face reflected back to me, I smile at my appearance. Then it gone and I am looking at a man I haven't seen in over 10 years, or so I think but who knows how long it has been. It was the man at the tracks. I see him ant that feeling hits me again that he is looking for me.
I keep staring at the Sigul and the lines that make it visible to me start to separate and become more distinct. It raises up from the ground and it starts to flow. The shape stays the same but the material inside starts to blur together in its movement inside the tube. It lifts from the ground and starts making it's way to me. The lines start moving faster and faster, what started out as very disguised lines, then streaky lines turn into a silvery blur similar to mercury but more solid and metallic as it is changing colors and moving towards me it is also rotatiin vertically giving it the impression that it was waiting there for me to see it. It was so large that it was raised above me even thouth it was hovering at the bottom of the hill. Now it is shrinking and condensing at the same time moving up the abandoned blacktop that just a few moments ago I was remembering what it looked like when I saw it fresh. It is front of me now and I see my face reflected back to me, I smile at my appearance. Then it gone and I am looking at a man I haven't seen in over 10 years, or so I think but who knows how long it has been. It was the man at the tracks. I see him ant that feeling hits me again that he is looking for me.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Winterlude2
Fiction
The rise I am standing on is the old tunnel that lead the the 10,11,12 loop. The patches of broken asphalt were once well maintained. I can make out the stout concrete curb and side walk once beautifully maintained. The crape myrtles that once adorned the parking lot have now gone feral and help screen my home from outsiders. Are there others here like me? I try to think of it but I can't see anything. It is like looking into a hole. The back half of the building was the service entrance and poorly made. But the dining area was a well built showcase of the view. It is this half of the building that remains intact. The building was adorned with rock work and the rest was windows. The high ceiling with the large cross beams still stand. I used the beams as the ceiling of my upstairs. I don't really use it as an upstairs more like a fair weather pad. It was converted into a rock igloo. To look at it compared to what it was a person wouldn't know someone lived here or more particularly under it. But my eyes widen I see my daily tracks, paths I have made encircling my home, signs pointing for all to see that I am here come and get me. They are faint I have not been totally careless but they are signs none the less and they rise from my field of vision. Now I can see them like the image in a magic eye puzzle and it is a shape. It is the shape of the sigul.
The rise I am standing on is the old tunnel that lead the the 10,11,12 loop. The patches of broken asphalt were once well maintained. I can make out the stout concrete curb and side walk once beautifully maintained. The crape myrtles that once adorned the parking lot have now gone feral and help screen my home from outsiders. Are there others here like me? I try to think of it but I can't see anything. It is like looking into a hole. The back half of the building was the service entrance and poorly made. But the dining area was a well built showcase of the view. It is this half of the building that remains intact. The building was adorned with rock work and the rest was windows. The high ceiling with the large cross beams still stand. I used the beams as the ceiling of my upstairs. I don't really use it as an upstairs more like a fair weather pad. It was converted into a rock igloo. To look at it compared to what it was a person wouldn't know someone lived here or more particularly under it. But my eyes widen I see my daily tracks, paths I have made encircling my home, signs pointing for all to see that I am here come and get me. They are faint I have not been totally careless but they are signs none the less and they rise from my field of vision. Now I can see them like the image in a magic eye puzzle and it is a shape. It is the shape of the sigul.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Winterlude
Continuation of the old story
How crafty you are dear FuzZ. I am still able to see myself so I know that I make it this far. Sometime after the crash. Was it so hard to deal with the reality that I landed into that years have gone by unnoticed. It appears you have beaten me once again dear FuzZ.
Every time I look at my home I see Robinson Crusoe's hidden home. I always thought that he was so paranoid but you have somehow survived a great tragedy and all that is left is you then you become a bit selfish about yourself and your self preservation. My home isn't quite as hidden as Crusoe's' but it works for me. Unlike him I have seen nobody for my entire tenure in the pump house. Standing on the small rise between 9 and 10 I survey my home and think I have done pretty good for myself. How did I know to come here. How did I know it would give me shelter, food and life.
How crafty you are dear FuzZ. I am still able to see myself so I know that I make it this far. Sometime after the crash. Was it so hard to deal with the reality that I landed into that years have gone by unnoticed. It appears you have beaten me once again dear FuzZ.
Every time I look at my home I see Robinson Crusoe's hidden home. I always thought that he was so paranoid but you have somehow survived a great tragedy and all that is left is you then you become a bit selfish about yourself and your self preservation. My home isn't quite as hidden as Crusoe's' but it works for me. Unlike him I have seen nobody for my entire tenure in the pump house. Standing on the small rise between 9 and 10 I survey my home and think I have done pretty good for myself. How did I know to come here. How did I know it would give me shelter, food and life.
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