Burning the Midnight Oil

5:52 AM....but up since 4.

Honestly, who decides it's a good idea to wake up at this time of night, especially when you're up in arms against a cold? Truthfully, though, it's nostalgic for me. As I sit here watching a movie and doing some typing, I remember when I was younger, waking to hear the faintest whisper of noise from downstairs. I knew what that meant! Mum couldn't sleep and was watching TV! I would go downstairs to see what was holding her interest ( once we got cable, it was usually an old movie) and see if she had decided on a late night snack of which I would gladly help her consume.

Simpler times.

Now I sit here wrapped in a blanket with a movie of my own on the tv, the volume only slightly moderated for I know that my housemates sleep like the dead. There is a sense of restlessness as I have recommitted myself to completing the first story I had posted on here, now titled 'A Dead Language'. I'm confident that by week's end, the rough draft will be completed, at which point I will begin the editing process. Having read over it several times, I have clued in on some elements that certainly could use a re-write or further explanation. Traditionally, editing is the worst part of writing for me. Oddly enough, I can find it to be rather cumbersome to read something I just finished writing! Nonetheless, I've learned the importance of going back over my work to ensure that when other's read it, it's in top form.

So, keep your eyes open for the coming of my first, true, completed work: A Dead Language. Are you bristling with excitement as much as I am? Well you had better be. Perhaps I should provide you with a little trailer to convey it's excellence.

COMING SOON!!!

" Bentley Square was a commotion, primarily due to Bendenshire Theater's opening of the new Vlamatti play, ' Barathrum'. From my third story apartment I could hear the clopping and rattling of horse drawn carriages as drivers chauffeured the rich and powerful to what would be a critically acclaimed evening."

In a time where elegance is the mask of the times, one man has uncovered a dark horror...

" Of Lamia

I furrowed my brow at the title. Was I about to embark on an early version of some sort of fantastic fiction? Perhaps a rewrite on the classical mythos?


' I write these words in the hopes that some will come to understand the horrors that have been unleashed upon the world. To understand and, I pray, put an end to them. I tremble even as I write this, for it was my own foolish actions that have given birth to the evils I will speak to you about. Such a wretched being am I. Could I, I would take the full measure of her
wrath upon myself, but alas, all I can do is offer up my mind to those who may stand a greater chance.' "

...a horror born in times long past....


" The myths of Lamia are as numerous as any tale told by a fireplace," I said as I stared down at the picture before me, " the earliest of record say she was a lover to Zeus. When Hera learned of her, she became jealous and changed her into a monster. One who feasts on children..."

....reawakened upon a world that has long forgotten of such....


I was catatonic, only able to stare back at the creature. It cradled the child as though she were it's own, even cooing softly to what it had reduced to be a cold corpse. Blood ran from it's lips and down over it's chin, while what was left within the child trickled from the savage gash the beast's teeth had rendered in her neck...




Coming Early in 2009....

A DEAD LANGUAGE

" Such things are fairytales; stories told at night to scare children into being good,"
I looked back at the tome before me and felt an all too real sense of gloom.
" Perhaps..."


So there ya go. Some of that was fabricated and may not actually be in the story, buuuuut...that's ok.