Post by TStape on Dec 1, 2010 1:09:10 GMT -5
A collection of short installments, each with a name. Its a work in progress. This is more of a precursor to the actual work a teaser. It just gives you an idea of two of the characters and a bit of the atmosphere. I use these installments to get out moods and to shape my writing a bit more. I think the dialogue is a bit cliche, but it is what it is. This is No Rain.
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"Doctor, how come there's no rain?"
"What do you mean?"
"I come in here for at least an hour a day, five days a week. Most of that time is spent looking out that window." He points at the window to his right. The same vibrant green hills, everyday, "and what I've noticed is that it has never rained. Not once."
"Thomas, there are plenty of days that you don't come in here. I'm sure it's rained..."
"That doesn't help me."
"Why does it matter?". Doctor Stephenson takes notes on his ledger, peering nonchalantly over his glasses.
"You, taking all those fucking notes, are not real. You're not alive. Sure you're breathing and functioning. But you're not truly alive. You sit there and tell me what I'm doing wrong and that I should correct myself. You know what I'm doing? I'm living. That", again pointing outside, "is not living. That is just the same bullshit image projected everyday. Like you. While I'm the real one. I do what I want. I react to my feelings. These drugs suppress as much as they can but I'll express what I can. Rain. Rain is real. It shows that even the brightest areas have it's dark spots. Consistency is death Doc. So unless you take me out there and let me snort the flowers and piss on the tree, you can analyze how much of a shit I really give." Thomas stops. He breaths in sharply, content with what happened. He just sits there and stares at Thomas until he says something which puts him right back into power.
"Alright. Let's go outside."
____________________________________________________
"Doctor, how come there's no rain?"
"What do you mean?"
"I come in here for at least an hour a day, five days a week. Most of that time is spent looking out that window." He points at the window to his right. The same vibrant green hills, everyday, "and what I've noticed is that it has never rained. Not once."
"Thomas, there are plenty of days that you don't come in here. I'm sure it's rained..."
"That doesn't help me."
"Why does it matter?". Doctor Stephenson takes notes on his ledger, peering nonchalantly over his glasses.
"You, taking all those fucking notes, are not real. You're not alive. Sure you're breathing and functioning. But you're not truly alive. You sit there and tell me what I'm doing wrong and that I should correct myself. You know what I'm doing? I'm living. That", again pointing outside, "is not living. That is just the same bullshit image projected everyday. Like you. While I'm the real one. I do what I want. I react to my feelings. These drugs suppress as much as they can but I'll express what I can. Rain. Rain is real. It shows that even the brightest areas have it's dark spots. Consistency is death Doc. So unless you take me out there and let me snort the flowers and piss on the tree, you can analyze how much of a shit I really give." Thomas stops. He breaths in sharply, content with what happened. He just sits there and stares at Thomas until he says something which puts him right back into power.
"Alright. Let's go outside."
