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Jarrod
August 28th, 2010, 11:22 PM
I decided to write a book and thought why don’t I write it online in the form of interlinked blogs so people can watch the story unfold in instalments.

Then the thought occurred to me 'as word press allows for comments then readers will not only be able to comment on the writing but are also able to give forth ideas, such as plot suggestions on how they personally would like the story to unfold in an interactive way'.



A lonely figure silently sits, the dusky twilight creates an ethereal image emphasising the stillness of his gaze, the half-light opening deep shadows under his eyes the way that you can almost but not quite make them out except for a faint glimmer.

All you can hear is rickety rack, rickety rack and the creaking of the carriage as the train ploughs through its course.

A young woman sits a few seats down immersed in thought; she idly looks over at the man peering through the murk as if trying to penetrate through the darkness under his eyes. Her curiosity is sparked as she stares deeper and deeper through the gloom as if mesmerised by him. They are alone in the carriage.

As she stares deeper and deeper into the dark pockets that are his eyes. The carriage is suddenly and unexpectedly bathed in light and the pockets of darkness are replaced by bright intense brooding eyes staring right back at her. She lets out a small shriek as her body involuntarily jumps; she looks away shocked out of her dreamy state by the sudden light and the sharpness of his stare.

She slowly turns her head back quivering inside as if shaken by a shocking incident only to see an empty seat. She jumps out of her seat looking this way and that thinking to herself ‘he could not possibly have got up without me noticing, not in that short a space of time’.

She slowly and tentatively edges her way down the carriage her senses on edge, even the sounds of her careful footsteps seem to clatter in her ear. She grasps the handrail above feeling the cold smooth steel against her hand, the texture feeling strange as if it were the first time she had ever really felt her sense of touch.

Everything felt so intense; she edged closer and closer to the empty seat noticing a folded piece of paper lying on it. Reaching out she takes it from the seat the texture feeling rough against her fingertips. She raises the paper to her face taking in the scent a faint familiar waft of cologne hits her nostrils. ‘Where have I smelled that before’ she thinks to herself almost getting lost in the aroma.

She was so engrossed she hardly noticed the train slowing as it came to a stop with a jerk startling here out of her revere as the doors opened and passengers started boarding the train. Quickly she puts the note in her pocket and heads through the boarders towards the door hurrying out onto the platform.

The air outside feels cool as her breath leaves vapour trails in the air, all the while people are scurrying up and down the platform creating an almost surreal image in her mind. She can’t help but feel detached from it all as if she had just woke from a dream and was viewing it from afar. But every so often someone caught her eye someone who did not belong to the crowd, she could not quite put her finger on why, there was just an odd sense about them.

She starts heading down the platform almost involuntarily turning her head to her right as she walks peering across the tracks. A man is standing there motionless on the opposite platform as people rush past him, his stillness creating a statuesque image. The bustling crowd appear to be moving at double time around him as if someone had just hit the fast forward button.

Turning her head back it seemed as if everyone around her was moving at double pace their eyes just staring straight through her as they passed by. It felt like she was on a different time stream to everyone else enhancing her feeling of detachment. Further down the platform she noticed a man in a trench coat ‘is that the man from the train’ she thought to herself. She hurried down the platform as her view of him became obscured by the crowd; she tried to push her way through them with renewed intensity and eventually reached the point where he had been.

He was no longer there. She was stood on the corner under the exit sign but peering round the corner he was nowhere to be seen. On the floor was a coffee steaming away in its paper cup the intense aroma hits her nose, she can almost taste the flavour as she imagines sipping at it.

She turns and heads towards the exit goes through the turnstile and heads out onto the gloomy street. The city looked foreboding in the dusky light, she had walked these streets hundreds of times but it was as if she was taking it in for the first time. Every footstep she took seemed to echo in her ear as she made her way up the road.
There was a coffee shop to the left the smell of freshly ground coffee was so overpowering she let out a small internal sigh feeling a warm glow growing inside. She was about to walk past but thought to herself ‘why not’ as the smell set up a craving in her.

She went through the door and ordered herself a large cappuccino with an espresso shot picked a table and sat down. She sat there for some time sipping at the brew the froth leaving a comic moustache on her upper lip.

As she sat there drifting away in thought she suddenly remembered the piece of paper in her pocket. She rummaged around in her jacket, located the note and pulled it out of her pocket. There was that waft of cologne again. She held it to her nose and inhaled deeply trying to rack her brain where she had smelled it before but it was not coming. So she opened it up and read the contents as a puzzled expression came across her face.

A shadow passed in front of her “excuse me” a man’s voice spoke. She looked up to see a man standing there. She looked back down at the paper and then back up at him her face showing a mixture of amazement and comic amusement as a half smile started curling her lips.

OneWorldPlc.com (http://www.oneworldplc.com)

StrikingEagle
August 31st, 2010, 08:12 PM
I decided to write a book and thought why don’t I write it online in the form of interlinked blogs so people can watch the story unfold in instalments.
OneWorldPlc.com (http://www.oneworldplc.com)

I did not read your story, simply have an overall comment. Are you aware that posting this story here may eliminate any chances of getting story published...even if it is deleted. Once posted any story is considered published.

I am not in favor of writing a story in installments with suggestions from many. This is because individuals may not get proper credit for their contribution. Perhaps you would like others to critique your work instead? This process helps both the author and the one who critiques.