Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26112985-20150815011221

I have recently completed writing five micropastas, which are listed below, any constructive criticism on any of them would be greatly appreciated.

Acid 

Have you ever taken acid? I doubt that you have. I’m about to try it out in a moment for the first time in my life.

I honestly think that I’m entitled to it, after the shitty life that I have led. Call me what you will, but this is just the way I feel things have to go.

It all started when my wife, Claudia, divorced me a month and a half ago. She meant the world to me, and the idea that she could even consider leaving me was alien in my mind. Then I found out about the affair she had had. A man who I had always considered a high school buddy of mine suddenly became the worst enemy I had ever known. I actually managed to get in a bar fight with that particular person. But what did that solve? Absolutely nothing and all I got was a bloody nose and a broken arm for my troubles. That wasn’t even the worst of it.

What killed me was when she took the kids. That was the blow that destroyed my very life as I knew it. Both of my precious little children were torn from my loving arms to spend their entire lives with a coldhearted woman that could never love them as I did.

I take the acid quickly, before I can change my mind, and then wash it down with a shot of Scotch.

According to the internet, consuming hydrochloric acid is a very effective form of suicide.

<span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Impact","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"">The Final Film

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I am the maker of over twenty three snuff films. I shit you not.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Now I have been robbed of my youth, and I almost feel guilty for all the terrible things I have done. But then I remember just how profitable this business was, and I regret nothing. You’d be surprised at how many people want the tapes that I used to make. All kinds of people too, young and old, fair and ugly, short and tall, male and female, I guess just about everyone has an animalistic side that they have to feed.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">In many of the movies, I was the man who was committing these dreadful deeds. I had a whole crew to back me up, and most of the time it was somebody else who was slowly cutting off the appendages of a middle aged female we had managed to abduct, or severing the testicles of a little boy who was never seen again. But sometimes I just couldn’t resist getting my hands dirty. The process just looked so… interesting.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">All of what I had was spent far too quickly. I lived a briefly amazing life of drugs and prostitution before it all ran out. I was both a sex addict and a heroin addict, and I was desperate to keep engaging in these activities, even as I lost my money. As of today, the only things I possess are this camera and the knife in my jacket pocket, with which I have made so many quality films. I know that now it is my time to make a final motion picture, and once again, I am the star.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Setting up the camcorder doesn’t take long, I just put it down atop one of the many dumpsters in this alleyway, and before I know it I am looking at myself in the viewfinder. I backed up, making sure I am in the shot, before taking the knife out of my pocket.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">It really is a beautiful thing. It’s an Italian stiletto style switchblade with a custom buck handle and a bayonet blade. I’ve used it plenty of times before, and today, I will use it for the last time. I push the release button, and five inches of chromed steel slide out with a satisfying click.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I step forward and press the red button for the last time before lowering the blade to my wrists.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Impact","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"">Scream Yourself Awake <span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Impact","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Everything is terribly surreal. I couldn’t tell you exactly what was happening if I tried. My head is fuzzy, and probably not working to its full capacity.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I hear the muffled voices of men, but I can’t manage to make out a single word. I open my eyes blearily to inspect my murky surroundings. In front of me two men seem to be discussing something in front of a large white van. I try to call out to them, but my tongue feels like a giant slug in my mouth.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">This must be a dream. It has all the strange qualities of one. That was for sure.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The man on the right turns and opens the van before beginning to drag a woman out. She looks around frantically. The man on the left is pulling a black object out of his belt. I’ve decided that I don’t like this dream very much, but hopefully everything will change in a moment, just like all incoherent dreams do. One moment you’re in the middle of an important business meeting and the next thing you know you’re streaking in the middle of a crowded subway.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">But nothing does change. The man points the black object towards this woman, and before I know it, she is lying on the ground, with a pool of blood forming around her head.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">At this point I’m trying to scream myself awake. I don’t like any of this… it’s far too frightening a dream. it’s more of a horrifying nightmare. The only noise I am able to make, however, is a rasp from the bottom of my throat.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">One of these men is coming towards me, and I am trying desperately to scream, with my mind reeling in terror. ''Scream! Scream now and scream as loud as you fucking can damn it! Wake up the whole fucking neighborhood if you have to! Just scream!''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The man kicks me hard in the stomach and everything becomes clear. Memories come flooding back in a single rush… the kidnapping that occurred, with me as the victim.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">It wasn’t a dream at all. It was just the effects of the drugs wearing off.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Impact","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"">Stargazing

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">My family and I went stargazing the other night. I have to say, it was an experience unlike anything else. My brother had heard that there was going to be a meteor shower that would be visible in our area, and when he told my father, he was all too happy to drive us out to a good location to observe the sky at night. We even decided to bring our dog, Max, despite the fact that we were missing his leash.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">My dad ended up taking a road that seemed to be abandoned. We all questioned him about this, but he insisted that he had gone up this road all the time as a kid, and he knew the perfect place to see the meteors. When we finally got there, nobody was anything short of amazed. He had led us to an open clearing where the skies were beautifully evident. I got to see exactly thirteen bright, streaking meteors as they flashed brilliantly across the sky.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">My dad kept trying to scare us all with his petty ghost stories. I guess he thought the mood was right, given that we were all out in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. While my face was angled upwards towards the sky he told us about an encounter he had with a monster when he was a kid.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I was only ten years old when it happened” he hissed in a forced whisper, “When I and my good friend saw the beast that lurks in the shadows of these woods. We were riding our bikes down the road just to our left, when we heard a vicious snarl coming from the depths of the trees. When we looked we could see only a pair of large, bright green eyes.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">We all called him out on it, but he swore up and down that his ridiculous stories were true. Even if I did not really believe him, his tales still gave me the creeps. I have to admit that I jumped once or twice when I felt Max brush against my leg.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Eventually my mother got tired and insisted that we needed to go to bed. There was much huffing and complaining, the rest of us had really liked watching the stars, but in the end, mom’s word was law.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">It was only when we were driving home that I realized that my dad had kept Max in the car the whole time.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Impact","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman"">Swallowed

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The loud blaring of my alarm clock startles me to my consciousness. I reach out one hand blindly, with my eyes still closed, and grasp at my dresser until my fingers run across the buttons on the digital clock. When I find the third one to the right, I press it gently and the racket stops. My alarm clock almost never wakes me up. I am usually aroused by the cheerful chirping of the morning birds through the window that I always keep open. The birds were not singing this morning…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I get out of bed and wearily make my way to the kitchen. I start the coffeemaker before reaching into my pantry for some bread to make toast. That’s when I hear the soft, almost frightened whining of Milton, my dog. When I turn to him, I let out a moan of disappointment. Milton looks at me guiltily. The back door of my one story house is covered in deep scratches. I shake my head in disgust. It will probably cost me a good amount of headaches to repaint that door. I walk over to the corner Milton is sitting in and shoo him into his kennel before shutting the door and locking it. He’ll stay in there for a couple hours as punishment.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I am about to return to making my breakfast when I catch the unmistakable sound of thunder in the distance. I glance at my window and do a double take when I realize that the skies are clear. Not a single cloud lingers in the vast blue stretch of the heavens. The thunder rumbles again, and this time it is much louder, the dirty plates rattle momentarily in the dishwasher. In my confusion I take a step towards the back door, intending to open it and look outside. Milton whimpers quietly in his cage.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The next time the thunder comes the entire house shakes aggressively. I grab onto the kitchen counter for support. This was looking to be less of a thunderstorm and more of an earthquake. That’s when gravity began to pull a trick on me.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The water in the sink suddenly tilts in one direction. Milton’s kennel slides across the floor as he barks from the inside. The coffeemaker slips off the counter and crashes to the ground. Then I feel myself falling backwards, as if there were an invisible magnet on the other side of my house.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">That’s when I realized… my house was being tipped sideways. Suddenly the roof above me begins to fragment, and the wood of my walls is split by large cracks that snake their way downwards towards. It would appear that my entire house was about to collapse on itself! How could such a thing happen? I get one good look at the window. What I see is beyond terrifying, and I let out a shocked scream.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">A set of gargantuan jaws opens and closes, chewing my house to splinters bit by bit. The window shatters as one large, yellow tooth grates it violently. The pungent odor of the breath of a great beast invades my nostrils, and I gag. I make my best effort to get up and run for the back door, but it is useless, I just keep falling back against the wall. I can do nothing but cry out in horror as the beast swallows me whole. <ac_metadata title="Five Micropastas! Short! Any reviews would be appreciated."> </ac_metadata>