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Thread: So I found something I wrote several years ago.

      
   
  1. #1
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    Cool So I found something I wrote several years ago.

    I have had a passion for writing for many years, I plan to write either a fictional novel or a quasi-biography about my exploits when I was younger and into the more dangerous side of city life (drugs, criminal behavior, etc.) some day. There was something I wrote almost 3 years ago now that I have recently just found and thought I would share.

    Please do not be too critical, I know it get's weird at times and I would like to lay the disclaimer that at the time of me writing this I expanded on an English final I wrote at UH, did I mention that this expansion happened while I was in a mental institution from too much LSD? ...so yeah, enjoy and don't be too critical please. Constructive criticism is always welcome as I feel this IS something i could possibly build off one day.

    Without futher adieu.. enjoy.

    Formatting on the forum blows, if you would like to read the entirety of the story go to this link.

    https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...hl=en_US&pli=1


    G.E.P.
    {Goldschmidt, Eldredge, Pinker}





    1




    “Ouch that's friggin' hot!”

    I had just burned my hand on my fresh mug of coffee. My palm felt the painfully cool sensation of a new burn, it slowly transformed into the nag that is a lingering tingle of pain...The perfect cherry on top of a wonderful week! I thought to myself as I scratched at what was left of the saggiest, wettest, most boring pile of scrambled eggs I have ever ordered. Why did these crazy diners excite me so much as a child? I looked up from my disgraceful plate to see a young man walk in, he stumbled a little as he got to the counter... seemingly addled.

    Taking a sturdy seat next to me to support his shivering shins the man ordered a glass of Lemonade. I didn't mean to judge, but I thought it odd that a man with his... style would order anything less than a beer in his condition. It may have been 7:38 a.m., but were I in such a condition I would order heavier. He sported a dusty, sweaty dark blue cap, which was supported by a mat of unkempt light brown hair... he had a few scrapes and shiners on his face. His clothing was covered in dirt, button-down dress shirt was tattered in awkward places all over his chest and back. And his Khaki jeans seemed to have seen better times. However, what truly caught my attention... was the look in his eyes. It wasn't a thousand yard stare, he was drenched in the gaze of complete and utter shock. When I took the last bite of my plate I looked up at the cute girl behind the counter and asked for my bill. She had a smile I feel I'll always remember.

    My coffee still had a ways to go, so I took the opportunity to try and spark up a conversation with the man who sat down recently. I picked up my mug and sipped from it - as I looked at the clock I said “I knew someone had a rougher night than I did, care to share?” I had only begun to speak the first word when he jumped in surprise. He was obviously still on edge, so I spoke as calmly and monotone as possible. Monotone is best when dealing with someone who's not entirely in reality, they don't feel patronized... or attacked. The man slowly turned his head towards me and said quite excitedly

    “Man, I would love to tell you, really, but it would take way too much time, and honestly, I know I look crazy as it is.. but this will only make you think I'm ****in' insane!” He said this in an unexpectedly jubial tone, and I was reaffirmed not to assume anything in life.

    “Well, I don't have a single obligation to fulfill today and I'm just driving my truck to wherever roads take me at the moment. We're kind of in a barren, Useless stretch of land. I see you have no mode of transportation. Going anywhere?”

    “Nope, not going anywhere... don't know where I am really, that's a part of the story. Would you mind a tag-along adventurer?” After this I turned from looking into his eyes back to the clock... 7:46, eight minutes and my coffee was gone? I played with the coffee spoon in my hands, twirled it finger by finger thinking to myself. I didn't normally do anything this spontaneous. Strangers, most people bothered me incessantly. I finally swiveled back into reality and responded.

    “Actually, no. We both have stories... and I could use the company.” He smiled and went back to drinking his lemonade grasping the cup with both hands. I came to the decision at that moment that he was an odd fellow, but I liked him. The girl had dropped the bill off earlier and I hadn't given a thought to it. 27 cents... I threw in two quarters just for the smile, I felt better about my own situation for the time being. I looked over and the odd man was on his last few sips of his drink. “I'm Vern by the way” I said extending my hand towards him. He hunched over a little more and tilted his cup to drink even faster; wiped his lip with his hand and then grasped mine with the same, dripping in lemonade exclaiming

    “I'm Gep! Nice to have a direction!”

    “Well Gep, I believe it's time we head out, did you pay your bill?” He nodded so we started to walk towards my truck parked outside. I pointed to it and mumbled “It's not the best beast but she still fires up and goes wherever I need her to.” Gep just looked at the dark green Chevy 3100, and once again nodded. I figured he was deep in thought, so didn't comment on his recent silence. Reaching the driver's side I pulled open the rusty door and plopped down into the seat sighing heavily. I looked to my right and noticed what Gep was doing... moreso what he wasn't. He just stood there, staring at the door. “Gep, you okay man?” he looked up at me instantly but it took him a few seconds to process the question.

    “Yeah... yeah! I just... don't know how to proceed from here.” This took me off guard completely, who in their right mind doesn't know how to open a truck's door? It's not like they were recently invented. It's 1955 for gods sake! His attention still focused on me through the dusty car window I replied “Just push in the little silver button on the right of the handle, and pull on it.” Gep did this and jumped back in surprise as the door swung outwards towards him. I couldn't help but chuckle at his actions; his oddities grew on me for every five minutes I seemed to spend with him. I motioned him out of his daze and into the truck so we could get a move on, once inside it he didn't close the door until I explained why it had to be closed in the first place. I turned the key, fired up the engine and rolled away from the diner. Gep rode quietly next to me for a short while before he commented.

    “I like this thing, it's rugged and I can feel the ground moving quickly beneath me, what do you call it?”

    I had to use all of my self-control to not give him a confused look and just replied without thinking. “It's an automobile, more specifically a 1953 Chevrolet 3100. It's brand new actually. Well, to me it is.”

    “Automobile huh, and you take this anywhere you want?” His questions reminded me of a small child, perhaps it's why I enjoyed his company so much.

    “Well, anywhere these roads go, I could take it off-road, but it would be pointless and against the law.” I knew answering this would only lead to more questions... but I might as well. The added company took my mind off of more depressing matters. Gep turned away from me to stare are the road ahead, his head cocked a little. I saw him rise suddenly to ask a question but he stopped himself. I took the opportunity to turn on the radio for a little time to process all that happened to me in the last 72 hours.

    Mr. Sandman
    by The Chordettes was playing... not really my music but it was back-round noise. I noticed, and should've guessed that Gep would be staring at the radio intently, but I didn't bother him for a time. I felt like a little silence in the drive would be soothing. As we continued on I was deep in thought for a good ten minutes before I looked over again. He was still deeply focused on the radio, “What's up Gep?” His reaction to sound is always so instant... but then it takes him a little longer than I'm used to for him to to respond.

    “...Oh, just surprised by the technology present is all.”

    “You can change the station if you'd like, I don't have a preference to what is playing” as I spoke I turned the knob on the right a little to show him how, the station changed and Mystery Train by Elvis chimed in from the static.

    “No need, I like this one”

    After this, Gep laid back in his seat and closed his eyes. I thought he must be tired so I drove on and let him sleep. We were driving east towards Boston, almost as far I could get without flight. And so I quietly drove on with “Mystery Train” leading the charge. It was fitting, for I had no idea what was in store for the future, I was doing what I always did, living in the present.

    I was hoping to reach Denver sometime tomorrow, so I kept my foot on the gas and hoped for the best. I found it interesting that between songs on the radio I couldn't hear Gep breathing... so calm and quiet as he slumbered, the complete opposite of his coherent self.

    It started to get dark on interstate 15, and I had to get to Fishlake national forest at some point to take a rest. I would've handed Gep the keys and told him to drive, but by his reaction to just about everything car-related, I wasn't up for the mental stress it would cause me. As the road continued on.. straight, empty, boring. A never ending black line that shoots off into the distance. I fell into a zombie like trance. Foot, steady, unmoving on the gas pedal, my eyes, locked and focused on the darkness in front of me. My mind was empty for the first time in days, regardless of all the odd happenings that occurred since I left San Diego, it was blank, and content. Then I heard it, BOOM, like a sawed-off shotgun had gone off directly under my front right tire. In that moment Gep snapped out of his slumber instantly, arms flailing they went straight to the dashboard in front of him and he screamed “Ack! Nuclear blast! We're doomed!”

    I of course, knew both that we weren't doomed and that my tire had just popped from a bit of bad luck, so I pulled over to the side of the road and stopped slowly. The brakes of my truck screeched a little as it came to a stop. I coughed and looked over at Gep for the first time since his outburst. He was wide-eyed and panting heavily, absorbed in absolute fright. I snapped my fingers twice in his direction while saying his name and he slowly turned his gaze onto me. “Gep, Nuclear war? We're the only ones with A-Bombs, and we dropped one on Hiroshima and Nagasaki nearly ten years ago. What's got you so freaked out?” His face suddenly grew calmer and more relaxed as he turned away from me - shook his head and didn't even respond. I took this as a cue that he wasn't ready to tell me too much about himself yet, so I opened the door and went to take a look at the tire.

    I was lucky to have a spare in the back, otherwise I wouldn't have been nearly as cool-headed at that time. There was a chill in the air as I walked around to the back of my truck, back in California I rarely saw my breath, so I zipped up my brown flight jacket and flipped up the collar. The bed was rusted shut so I had to grip the side with my hands and hoist myself in. My jack and tire were laid out in the scratched up bed like they had been sliding around for months, though I had only put them in there recently. I picked up the tire, and felt my fingers begin to numb from the weather. I gotta get this **** done with quickly, I thought to myself as I tossed the tire to the ground. It bounced once and landed with a thud on the pavement. I had to be a little more careful with the jack so I knocked on the window behind Gep's head to get his attention. I think he was starting to get used to the way I interact with him because this time he didn't jump so badly. He turned to look at me and asked “Yes, Vern?”

    “Could you come help me get this jack out of the back of my truck? I need to hand it to someone, 'cause getting out of this thing is kind of a hassle.” He immediately had a bit of a trial with getting out of the truck, but this time he just figured it out for himself. After finally popping out of the door he walked to the side and held out his hands as if he were accepting a present from a god. I smirked at him and placed the jack in his waiting arms to see them drop quickly from the weight he wasn't expecting. It took every fiber of my being not to laugh at him when I asked the question “Did you not expect that hunk of metal to weigh anything bud?” This time he responded instantly without looking.

    “Guess I'm just not used to this gravity.” As he mumbled this he was intently inspecting his hands. Now, I knew when I met him, Gep was different. However, his answer was a little more startling to me than anything else he has ever said. I better confirm I heard correctly...
    “Did I hear you right? Did you just say you're not used to gravity?” There was a long silence that followed after the exchange where the two of us just looked into each other's eyes. It was the first time I noticed his eye-color. A light grey, they almost glowed in the moonlight; I could sense him thinking around in his head for an answer and had the feeling my night was going to get a little weirder...

    Formatting on the forum blows, if you would like to read the next 3 sections of the story go to this link.

    https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...hl=en_US&pli=1


    Last edited by Trogdor; 11-08-2011 at 11:46 PM. Reason: Lawl, characters, not words, I am dumb.

  2. #2
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    That's pretty damn good Trevor. I like how you potray that GEP is different from us just enough to figure out he's something not of origin but still not enough info to figure it out and keep you wanting to read to find out. I think you should write a book it would be a thrill if it got published and could be bought in bookstores worldwide.

    Got anymore stories you would like to share?
    "Money can't buy back your youth when your old, a friend when your lonely or a love that's grown cold"
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]

  3. #3
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    I think I have some poetry and other things lying around I could scrounge up - I haven't written much in the last couple of years unfortunately.

  4. #4
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    Post it up my brother from another mother.
    "Money can't buy back your youth when your old, a friend when your lonely or a love that's grown cold"
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]

  5. #5
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    You ever revive this, Trevor?

    I'm illustrating a graphic novel and wrote out the story first. It ended up being a lot more substantial than I expected, so I'm going to have it edited for stupid mistakes and for the sake of smooth reading. Then, I may just self pub it as a companion for when I finish the comic.
    Current markers: Not as many as teh Calgar

  6. #6
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    I have thought on it briefly, but not sure if I can go back to it. I would probably re-write a lot of it as I was under the influence of more than a few drugs at the time that I wrote it. Just not sure how I feel about it anymore.

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