A Shower and a Change"Ah, damn. God damn."A Shower and a Change3 years ago in Writing
The stain was small, no larger than a coin. It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh. Still, it was nauseating. Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit. Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain. It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit. He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers. Nothing. It seemed, for a moment, odorless. But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal. Like a cup full of coins. Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!" A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin. Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b
Odyssey II Submission: Chapter OneCHAPTER ONE: WORLD'S ENDOdyssey II Submission: Chapter One3 years ago in Writing
God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. J.M. Barrie
The young redhaired woman was admiring herself in a full-length mirror. The vintage dress she was modeling reflected her fondness for the antique. She still laughed to think of how as a teenager she'd wandered from Victoria Station all the way down to the World's End area of the King's Road, somehow naively thinking that some glittering remnant of a 1960s storefront would magically appear.
A casual observer might have placed her in her late 20s or early 30s, with a sly smile that suggested a rare intelligence bubbling just below the surface. It was there to note or no; most did not and would discover that they'd badly misjudged her abilities. There were countless fresh-faced office boys who, upon attempting to engage her in some local gossip or office smut, found themselves galloping away with their tails (or other parts) between
Odyssey Project II Chapter 1It wasn't until later, in his room, that Paul found the little vomit stain on his trousers. He regarded it with a little bit of surprise, having not noticed that the red-haired man had vomited at all. He'd been watching the whole time and nothing had come from the man's mouth as he had lain upon Paul.Odyssey Project II Chapter 13 years ago in Writing
Paul supposed he ought to not care, so he stripped off his trousers and put on a fresh khaki pair that he actually rather liked. As a rule, he'd never liked khaki, feeling that it made him seem to be more middle-aged than he really was. He was thirty, by God! In the prime of his life! Isn't that what they always said?
It was only as he was slipping them on that he noticed there was a small mark on his leg. The color was similar to that of the vomit. That is, it was a pale green, like jade, with tiny flecks of red and forest green. It then occurred to him that it hadn't really looked like vomit at all. In fact, it didn't.
He took a wet cloth, assuming that the vomit had soaked through his
Strange BeginningsPaul saw instantly that something had gone terribly wrong as soon as he turned down the street upon which the dry cleaners was located where he had dropped off his vomit stained trousers. It was a surreal feeling. Just moments ago he was here in this same spot and everything appeared perfectly normal, and now, he felt like he stepped into a movie. There were police cars, an ambulance, fire truck on the block and the building of the dry cleaners was taped off in police tape. Groups of officers were huddled together conversing. A barrier had been erected to keep civilians back.Strange Beginnings3 years ago in Writing
When he woke up this morning he felt almost as if he had spent a night of hard drinking (which he had not) and his head was still a bit groggy. It did not seem like it was shaping up to be a good day and it all begun with that troublesome train ride."What is going on here?" Paul asked one of the spectators. "No one is saying anything" The woman responded. "But I thought I saw them bring a body out, it looked all c
A bloody coincidence.London was calling, but her once sensuous voice failed to tempt Paul. An angry migraine pounded in time with the lazy bass of a stereo located somewhere in the hostel, and not for the first time Paul cursed the wafer thin films of plaster that passed as walls. He could have afforded a better place he should have but Paul had hoped to reignite his love affair with London by returning to the place where it all started. Unfortunately, somehow in the last thirteen years, this once fair succubus of a city had transformed into a sleazy page six call girl. It was with a deep sense of irony Paul realised that, despite its cold welcome, London had still managed to get his pants off.A bloody coincidence.3 years ago in Writing
Having discovered the patch of vomit left by the redheaded man, Paul had quickly stripped off the offending item of clothing. At first he had considered washing his trousers, but in the end he had simply thrown them out. No matter how thoroughly the trousers were scrubbed, Paul knew they wou
Kami Makes His Move..Paul stared at the vomit that lay smeared across his clothes. It made him feel uneasy. He had an eerie feeling that something was definitely amiss.Kami Makes His Move..3 years ago in Writing
It had struck him at first glance that the vomit was still wet, although it had been over an hour since he had left the subway. Under normal circumstances, he would have been surprised, but there was more to it - something so horrifying that it completely eradicated this concern.
"Science definitely can't explain this." Paul thought, as he stood naked beside the bathroom door, his eyes glued to the vomit on his trousers.
His mind, no, his very soul, for some inexplicable reason, was strangely attracted to the disgusting matter that lay before him. The gross, yellowish material seemed almost alive, reaching out to Paul, calling to him.
Paul desperately tried to clear his head, but in vain.
Odyssey 2 chapter 1Paul was in his room trying to clean the vomit stain off of his trousers, but no matter how he scrubbed or what he put on it the stain stood there like it had clawed itself on the cloth of the pants. It felt as thought it was staying there and laughing back at him and it even started to smell as he scrubbed it more he finally gave up feeling his hands weak from all the scrubbing he felt the stench from the stain make his head dizzy, his stomach turn upside down and in a couple of minutes he was throwing up himself.Odyssey 2 chapter 13 years ago in Writing
After that he decided to put the clothes he wore today in the trash bin. He felt awfully tired and his head started to hurt. ''I must be getting down with something'' he thought to himself after changing his clothes he felt the room more colder than before and he found out why. The window was open so he came across the room and closed it. 'Get hold of yourself Paul' he thought and shook his head. He grabbed a pill for his headache and drank it with some water then
The Kirian Dimension and a Vomit Creature.The vomit jumped off his trousers, and grew to the size of a human. It transformed into a human or was it an animal? It had soft silvery eyes and long blue hair pulled back into a plait. It, for I don't know what else to call it, had the ears of an owl and the tail of a wolf. It had wings like an angel; the only thing normal about it was it had a human face and human arms and legs. "Who and what are you?" Paul asked the creature. It took a step towards Paul and Paul took a step back. For a normal world things are certainly abnormal. Paul thought to himself. He looked at what the creature was wearing. It wore a normal everyday T with a gold dragon on the front and a silver dragon on the back.The Kirian Dimension and a Vomit Creature.3 years ago in Writing
"I am Karla, a semi-human from the Kirian Dimension." The creature had a soft silky bell and harp-like voice.
"But you look so different." Paul said.
"Of course I'm different. Allow me to explain. In the Kirian Dimension there are many like me with animal parts and human
vomitPaul -bemused and inexplicably mortified after the event of which he still bore the stubborn stains on his clothes- remembered that awkward, unnaturally childlike, constantly trembling and blank faced classmate of his, who had very tactlessly been nicknamed 'vomit'.vomit3 years ago in Writing
Poking ruthless fun at Vomit was everyone's guilty pleasure, but Paul was a sort of silent misfit fringe-monkey type in the school environment, and openly but not loudly objected to the common practice while keeping a safe compassionate distance. In the hidden depths of his shaky adolescent soul Paul feared that Vomit was contagious and that due to his lack of any firm membership he also lacked the immunity to fatal playground diseases. When in the 11th grade Vomit began barking at people, biting his books and tripping over himself, Paul had felt a dark raw discontent with his self he felt his heart slow with every one of Vomit's downfalls- , but had kept to himself and watched Vomit's despair from his own
Chapter I: Maybe, it's a karma thingPaul wished he had something else to change into. But, since the trousers were irreplaceable at the moment, a lot of water and a bar of hotel soap would have to do. After much effort, the stain was gone in all but spirit, but it was the spirit that made the clothes feel dirty, ruined somehow. London had given Paul a sign, and not a hopeful one; ever since he walked away from a subway a feeling of unease had clung to his mind (but then, bad is how you feel when you're fucking useless).Chapter I: Maybe, it's a karma thing3 years ago in Writing
Still, Paul's appointment was an hour away, the stain was gone and maybe, just maybe, the situation was a karma thing – stumble into shit in the morning, pay the price, then your luck turns around. But that moment of optimism didn't last: rather, drown in shit for ten years and life still doesn't owe you a pony.
Paul thought it best not to tempt destiny, hour or not. The offices were ten blocks away, straight ahead, no chance of getting lost. Besides, some small, naive part of him wanted to see if
Chapter 1 againChapter 1 again3 years ago in Writing
He woke up on the floor of a moving subway train, with his hand handcuffed onto one of the rails. He did not know why he was there. On his wrist was a watch fused onto his arm, displaying the number 604800.
"You are infected, Paul." An unfamiliar voice called out to him. He looked across the train, there sat a stylish teenage girl. Her clothing had an overdone abundance of colors- to a point her giant lollipop became a fitting accessory. On both side contrasting her was a line of large man dressed with the same black suit.
She took a bite from her lollipop, crunching it crudely while she continued.
"All infected losses sanity, attacks..." she explained disrespectfully.
"Zombie?" Paul mocked the delusional girl.
"Zombie?" The girl gave a snot, "That's a cute way to put it."
A sudden sinister smile and she continued to answer a question that Paul had yet to ask.
"Zombies are cute- comparing to the things they ac
Of Wet Dreams and Nightmares Paul removed his trousers and flung them over the back of a chair.Of Wet Dreams and Nightmares3 years ago in Writing
"I'll get them cleaned tomorrow," Paul thought as he laid down to sleep.
As he was about to drift off the vomit streaked through the air towards him, more specifically, towards his nose. Before Paul could think to react he felt the force hit his nostrils. Paul sat up with a start and gasped for air since his nose was now blocked.
"A dream? I've got a cold and my half asleep brain pumped out a two second nightmare."
Nasty foreign germs. Paul thought back to the last time he was here. No cold and the only dream that woke him up was a wet dream.
A thought kept running through his head, if he wanted to prove to himself that this was all just his imagination then he had to check his trousers for the vomit.
"Of course it's there," Paul thought. He couldn't believe that as a grown thirty year old man, h
THE STAINPaul had just arrived at the Hotel, his first of many stops in London to meet up with Business personnel. He had on his best 3 piece suit that was handed down from his great Great Grandfather. Paul had just discovered that the man that had the seizure on the train vomited on Paul's pants.... It wasn't really vomit, it looked as if Paul had gone to the restroom and leaked through his pants. The stain was about the size of a half dollar.THE STAIN3 years ago in Writing
Paul looked at his watch, he had 3 hours before his meeting, just long enough to clean his pants and get a bite to eat.
Paul called room service. Before he even heard a dial tone he heard a woman's voice saying thank you for calling room service at the Ritz, how can I help you. Paul asked what the special of the day was. The woman at customer service said, you sound American. Paul said yes I am, I'm from Denver, Colorado. Room Service responded
Chapter 1: Crotch Water Coffee, the American offered. David didn't have time for coffee. He needed to keep moving. He forced his walk to remain natural and tried to blend with the crowd. You can't escape by running, he told himself. Running would get himself noticed, and he already had been noticed plenty on the underground. He'd have to travel by bus now and stay away from the rails.Chapter 1: Crotch Water3 years ago in Writing
The wedding was in Slough, as was Paul's hotel, but he had a day to kill before then. Now he had a day to kill with a stranger's vomit on his pants. Attempts to wash it off in the bathroom of a nearby pub only made it look like he wet himself. Paul could still see the a darker, vomit stain in the center of the water.
Strange Bites, Stranger Dreams"Doesn't that just take the biscuit?" Paul stripped his trousers off in the miniscule, private bathroom with a look of disgust and stuck them in the sink. He thought about the vomit stain again and shuddered. Paul quickly removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He turned on the water, willing to endure the cold just to wash away the creepy, skin-crawling sensation he was feeling.Strange Bites, Stranger Dreams3 years ago in Writing
As the water warmed, Paul's agitation began to fade. He picked up the soap and began to wash. "Ow!" he exclaimed as he ran the washcloth across his thigh. "Something must've bit me," he thought as he prodded at the slight swelling that marked the tender area. Paul finished his washing and stepped out of the shower to towel off. He patted the tender spot dry and then turned his attention to his trousers in the sink.
Paul pulled his belt out of the loops and emptied his pockets into his backpack. A few minutes work with cold water and a piece of bar soap reduced the stain to a very faint out
Lunacy UnfurledLunacy Unfurled by Tim Marquitz (email@example.com)Lunacy Unfurled3 years ago in Writing
Paul's stomach lurched. As if having a strange man's face in his lap wasn't enough to ruin the day, he had to contend with puke, too?
He wiped at it without thinking. The spew came away with a swipe. It was warm and moist and oozed along his fingers to pool in his palm. Tingles crept down his arm, a millipede of sensation setting the hairs to standing at the realization of what he'd done. He went to shake the vomit from his hand when a choir of whispers cluttered his head. Paul froze at the sound, his eyes drawn to the tiny starbursts that erupted across the yellowish bile. A word cleaved through the din:
He felt its weight, as though a wave crashed over top of him. The sound reverberated inside his skull, and he watched the dance of lights at his palm. A sense of familiaritya kinship, of sortsoverwhelmed him, clarity overtaking the seemingly random flickers. Rhythm coalesced across the lucent spots, something deep ins
It stains, It harmsIt wasn't until later, in his room, that Paul found the little vomit stain on his trousers.It stains, It harms3 years ago in Writing
"Dammit!" He thought.
As if it wasn't bad enough that his train ride had been spent pinned under the weight of the spazzing redhead, the man had also left a sickening souvenir to remember him by: a bile coloured stain about the size of a thumbprint.
Still, Paul was too tired to deal with it now. So he took off his pants and shirt as he moved to collapse onto the bed of his suite. Hmph! and what a "suite" it was. The rotten cherry atop an already ruined cake. There was barely enough room to manoeuvre onto the small bed, talk less of to do the unpacking he would have to do when he awoke.
"Maybe I should look into how much it would cost to upgrade..."
...and with that thought, Paul fell into a deep sleep.
But in the middle of the night, he awoke to a dull pain in his left thigh. His pillow drenched in sweat, and his forehead hot enough to fry an egg. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him, but what
Drunkards and MonstersThe phone rang again.Drunkards and Monsters3 years ago in Writing
Paul didn't bother to look at the display. No use either way.
With a sigh he ran his big hands through his sticky brown hair. It might've been days, weeks, since he had last showered. On the other hand, what did he have to shower for?
As he turned off the buzzing TV he caught a glimpse of his reflection on the black screen.
When had he become that old?
Paul cursed under his breath.
No use either way.
The sofa creaked alarmingly as he picked himself up from it. From behind the blinds streaks of grey sunlight whispered into the room, seeping through the brown tinted glass of the many liquor bottles that were scattered on the table.
Paul scratched his growing beard while staring about.
"Laundry...", he husked to himself.
Nothing seemed to go well for him today. Bloody hell, did it ever?
His tired gaze found the pants he had worn just that morning. He had smashed them there when he had seen the stain upset not about the stain, but about his last clean pants bei