Topher Lydon
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I... wake... up... yes
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Kulai City – Æuum – Bravo Site – November 7th The air in Kulai City was a thick, humid blanket of sensation. It pressed in from all sides, carrying the scent of exotic spices, street food sizzling, and the sweet perfume of alien flowers. The city was alive, a chaotic symphony of noise and light, a river of life that flowed around Wojciech and the Bride. The thrum of mag-levs, rikshaws and the distant metallic rum
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for that I will now add ten chapters of filler where Hugo and Stoker play checkers.
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I am a heathen... I love Hawaiian pizza.... monopoly, Bane of friendships or glorious challenge?
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a Paradox Lost, perhaps?
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I am a spice wuss... so Mild, bland... so mild it's mayonnaise... Pizza : With or without anchovies?
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You would think, yes... so what *IS* it doing there I wonder?
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I give you my word, things get better from here. Wil is doing his job, and Jimmy will benefit from the more open and honest love between them.
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Eighteen I have to admit this is getting harder and harder with each chapter. I am desperately trying to protect myself, but I want to keep going. Nothing quite like going to war with yourself over your own pain. I guess this is how one becomes conflicted… As writers know, we’re all a bit nuts. Characters often speak with their own voices, and hijack plots and take even me, the writer, for a ride. Imagine sitting in a room with one of your characters staring at you, and that cha
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I want to say "Too late"
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hope that starts to answer some questions :: smiles :: and welcome to the meta plot. A long chapter, I know, was going to be separate chapters but I needed the flow to work, and this was the best way.
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STOKER AIN'T BAIT
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Outside Washington D.C. -1993 – December 9th The low winter sun, a pale, anemic disk in a sky, cast long, distorted shadows across the rifle range. The air was a crisp, biting cold, a clean, sharp scent of gunpowder and frozen earth that bit at the nose and made the breath plume like twin white ghosts in the stillness. Henry stood, a silent, solitary figure, his heavy flannel coat a somber island of warmth in the vast, indifferent landscape. The wind,
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shhhhhhhhhhhhhh don't give 'em ideas...
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Never, that one's 100% Sprog-smitten. Team WestxPeter till I die
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I dissociate, so contemplation is second nature. Hockey or other none sports merely :: spits :: games... ? ::tucks inner Canadian back in sock drawer ::
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No red meat... so veggie burger so ketchup... *mutters curses about blood pressure * Fruit or cheese?
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Art, definately Private tour with the hunky guide, or tour group
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Piggy back ride, yanking on my hair and yelling they want to see the dinosaurs... oooo Natural History Museum or Science Museum?
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Golden, with a small knife. I like it a bit tart on the tongue. Last song you slow danced to?
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I like waffles Syrup or Maple Syrup?
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This is becoming a book, I never intended this. This was just a project to allow me to process past trauma that defined who I am. What made me, what I was who I was, and who I would become. The early 2000s. I was there in Ottawa on Y2K, shivering in the crisp night air as the countdown malfunctioned and the giant clock on Parliament Hill flickered and died. A profound silence fell over the crowd as we all held our breaths, wondering if that was it. The world seemed to pause for a second, bu
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Right so the first chapter of Carter's Order is penned. I am going to get to work on this one this week and see where I am with it.
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You know if you say @Jeff Burton 's name Three Times....
