Thread: A dream I had, where should I go with this story?

not bad. im curious as to which drug is responsible for this artistic episode of yours?

Originally Posted by maniclion

"Get those Ghost Towners out of there by any means, I don't care if you have to club them and drag them out. I will not have 200 lost lives on my hands even if they claim to be volunteering for the sake of paleontology, they won't be committing suicide on my watch," Dayton Walker exclaimed as he grabbed his hat and stomped out of the command post.

"Uh, it's archaeology I think sir, " said Benji Hornsroth as he shuffled in next to the sheriff, "plus they are scattered throughout the town taking up the different roles, setting up the scenes and what not. We don't have enough people to round them up in the short amount of time we have left."

"Look, go down there with a bullhorn and tell them that this is not Pompeii and what they are doing is falsifying history, first of all they aren't locals, the homes and buildings they are in aren't their natural habitats and setting up makeshift daily tasks and routines is like planting evidence at a crime scene it would just confuse future scientists if they were to dig these folks up." Dayton commanded as he squinted out toward the swelling mountainside looking like a soon to be quadruplet mother in her third trimester...

Megan Ritzwell opened every cabinet desperately looking for a ceramic bowl, but all she could find were plastic ones, "damn doesn't anyone use stoneware anymore, fuck!!!" she exclaimed while slamming a cabinet shut. Out of the corner of her eye she saw bananas and quickly turned to see a bushel resting in a beautiful ceramic bowl, she ran to the dining room and dumped the fruit on the table and hugged the bowl tight to her breasts. She walked back into the kitchen and wiped out the bowl with a towel and poured her flour into it while she read the next step of directions to make biscuits. Megan was one of 200 people from Seattle who had decided to come out here for the second Mt Saint Helens eruption and dedicate their lives to science by attempting to be buried in the volcanic ashes and thus be preserved doing normal activities like the people of Pompeii. They called themselves Time Capsulists, locals called them crazy and Ghost Towners. In the house next door to the one Megan had commandeered Sally and Marshall Kildair made preparations for their scene. Sally opened her leather bag and pulled out the 2 glass dildos she'd bought online, Pyrex glass because it would more than likely not be destroyed by the volcanic ash as it entombed them. Marshal took out the stainless steel cock ring, the only thing he could think of bringing besides his dick and pyrex bottles of lube and KY's Intimate flavor liquids and intensifiers and a steel bottle of Viagra and a few other dick stiffeners and some ecstasy tabs, he thought these would give insight to future diggers of the things we used in this age during intercourse. He also remembered to place the gold medallion around his neck he'd had specially made for the occasion, the words Fuck Monster encircling a recreation of the plaster molds of his cock laying across Sally's pussy lips.

Back at the Command Post Benji having successfully rounded up as many people as he could to help rush back into town and hull the Ghost Towners out as he was instructed, was jumping onto his motorcycle, an Enduro he'd just swapped his road tires for knobbies on. He twisted the throttle and popped the clutch sending a rooster tail of damp gravel 10 feet up behind him and spraying the side of Dayton's suv with a racket that had Dayton sprinting for the door and running outside yelling, "God damn it Benji, watch where you're aiming that fucking dirt bikes ass blastings!!!" As he finished his sentence the rest of the posse, unable to hear the sherrif over the grumble of Benji's bike, gunned their vehicles and sent a barrage of muddied pebbles zinging past, in front of and all over the Sheriff's fresh pressed uniform, the split second a spider-web formed in Dayton's aviators he thought it'd be a good idea to duck behind his vehicle before the tires hit the larger stones beneath the gravel bed. Just as he hit the ground he heard a ting-thud noise and saw a silver-dollar sized stone fall to the ground where he had been standing. His eyes followed a direct line up and then back from where the stone now lie and he saw a divot an inch deep in the tin sign that read Sheriff's Office on the solid wood door about the height of his throat. Dayton could just stare at the stone thinking all the horrible thoughts at once about what could have happened. Little did he know this wasn't the first "bullet" he'd dodge this day.

Love the premise, like the writing. Like the dialogue, too, but some of the rhythms give a stream-of-consciousness impression that weakens suspended reality because (this reader, at least) feels he's listening to the writer thinking on paper, not the characters speaking aloud. Multiple exclamation points always a no-no for a pro(!!!). Attribution: when in doubt, trust he/she "said" rather than 'exclaimed' or 'commanded' because strength of the dialogue should makes emotion apparent. Nice absence of adverbs. Good job, Dylan Thomas.

the ghost towners are trying to tell the people of the future.... aliens of the future that earthlings stopped using sex to procreate and used it simply for pornal pleasure ultimately solving the problem of over population and forever extinguishing human life on earth.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

Love the premise, like the writing. Like the dialogue, too, but some of the rhythms give a stream-of-consciousness impression that weakens suspended reality because (this reader, at least) feels he's listening to the writer thinking on paper, not the characters speaking aloud. Multiple exclamation points always a no-no for a pro(!!!). Attribution: when in doubt, trust he/she "said" rather than 'exclaimed' or 'commanded' because strength of the dialogue should makes emotion apparent. Nice absence of adverbs. Good job, Dylan Thomas.

I did the best I could trying to jot down the remnants of a half-asleep dream/hallucination I'd had after hitting the snooze button, I was teetering on the edge of here and nod, as in nodding off but not quite it was like a movie playing in my head in hues of blue and all the voices were my own yet distinct....

Plus I had to throw it down at work as soon as I got in while answering phone calls, meeting with clients and trying to write up a quote on a 100kw PV system.....

Thanks for the praise and critique, every little bit helps. It might help your reading of me if you know that I am heavily influenced by the Stream of mind beat writers and surrealist theories of Breton, Dali, Lorca, et al...

Originally Posted by bio-chem

not bad. im curious as to which drug is responsible for this artistic episode of yours?

This was a pure unadulterated non-chemically enhanced psychotic break, I'll submit to a blood and urine test....maybe it's from withdrawals for not having anything in my system.....

Originally Posted by maniclion

Thanks for the praise and critique, every little bit helps. It might help your reading of me if you know that I am heavily influenced by the Stream of mind beat writers and surrealist theories of Breton, Dali, Lorca, et al...

No, I can tell, it shows; but some nice unique rhythms all your own. Keep firing.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

No, I can tell, it shows; but some nice unique rhythms all your own. Keep firing.

And that is why it's an interstellar antiseptic, oscillating hues of
chartreuse and azure. A pickled sphere salivating into the coarse raw destiny of emptiness...and it's makes me dizzy in a slow sort of
odylic way...
My mind straddles here and nod...
murdering the temporal scale
or as they say killing time, just killing time
as the hands indicate the see no evil hour for the second go round....

I had a further dream on this the rescuers were on their way when suddenly the ground trembles and the volcano explodes, but something flashes and they and the whole town are dropped onto what looks like a wilderness that has grown over the ashen remains of the volcanic eruption. Somehow they are several hundred years in the future (later they find out experiments at CERN sent particles into the mantle of Earth that collected and burst out during the eruption as it was the nearest point of energy release, an energy great enough to charge the particles and develop a wormhole....not a full on wormhole but a flash wormhole that starved on energy before it could develop thats why they are dropped in the future instead of being strung into infinity, sort of like a slingshot wormhole, a rubber band pulled and then launched the energy dissipated and it fell several hundred years ahead.....

I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven.

When i woke I spent that on a necklace....

I should write a song

Originally Posted by ROID

I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven.

When i woke I spent that on a necklace....

I should write a song

I've got a necklace for you....down south you'd know it by it's formal name, "the noose"

Originally Posted by maniclion

I've got a necklace for you....down south you'd know it by it's formal name, "the noose"

ill let that be the name of my song.

I'll be sure you get your cut.

You be sure I get a cut of anything you do that brings in money. It's a fair deal

After seeing the mess of the Mega Python vs Gatoroid that SyFy put out I think I could easily push this as a movie for them.....just need some inspiration and then I'ma send it out and see if I can make some money off of my insanity....