I've been busy trying to get back into my creative writing full time, so I haven't been reading my gaming blogs or trying to find some cool links to post about. I do want to still pursue games journalism, but I do have a video game idea and a pretty kick ass story going for a television series that I need to work as well. Besides, my writing has gone down hill since I've abandoned all my creative endeavors.
I do have another blog called Colored Prose with some of my creative ditties in it. Please check it out and leave me feedback. Not very many people look at it and no one has really left me comments. I'm not a great writer, so I need people to tell me what they think so I can adapt and grow. It is a must for any writer. Here is a story I wrote when I still using modblog. I hope you guys enjoy it!
Harriet (Part I)
Harriet always got chai from the "Cool Beans Cafe" that was nestled in the heart of downtown Chicago. The coffee shop was a warm place with gold tones covering the walls and plush purple velvet armchairs spread out all over. She would sink deep into a chair, turn on her iPod and listen to music as she watched people walk by the front window of the cafe. She wondered who they were, where they were going and what would happen to them through out their day. The men were the most mysterious to her. They all wore the same black or gray, or navy blue suits. They all carried their briefcases and talked on their cell phones. What were they like at home? What colors did they wear? What kind of women were they dating? Is this where they saw themselves when they were six-years-old? Harriet would've given anything to become invisible and follow one around to see what they were really like. Especially one in particular. He came to Cool Beans every day as well. He wore a black suit and tie and carried a suitcase. He was Harriest's most anticipated part of her day. He had a rebellious way about him. A spirit that longed to break out of the mundane and run free. This intrigued and excited the woman and she loved him for it. (10/12/05)
Will (Part II)
Will loved the city and he loved it best in October. The few trees that lined the streets would turn to colors of tawny yellow, amber and crimson. The leaves would stand out so vibrantly against the towering buildings. Then, as the month came to a close and the winds got stronger and colder, the leaves would fall and blow all around him. It was something that had excited Will even as a child. He didn't think he'd ever get over it. Today was a cold and windy day, but walking into Cool Beans, the smell of espresso washed over him and immediately warmed him through and through. The jewel toned hues that decorated this space were inviting, especially the giant over-stuffed arm chairs. They seemed always to be beckoning him to sit and stay for a while. Glancing longingly in their direction, he saw her. Cuddled up in her throne right in front of the window. She was always doing something different. Reading, writing, sketching, knitting. Today, she simply sat perched in her usual spot, listening to music and watching the people outside. Will found her mysterious and beautiful. Mahogany hair that fell around her shoulders in ringlets, pale, smooth skin sprinkled with feckles and she wore colors. Plum, emerald, gold, coral, cinnamon. Any color a human could possibly dream-up, she had worn it and Will loved her for it. (10/13/05)
Yellow (Part III)
A lone piccalo. A pinching tie. Smooth dark roast. A haunting melody. It's good to see you again! Baking cookies. Rising violins. Smiling baristas. Unfamiliar faces. Can you believe he said that? The weight of change in your hand. Horns and trumpets bursting forth. Would you like whipped cream on your mocha? Five senses completely bombarded by life inside the cafe, Harriet and Will must rely on their sixth sense. The one that knows when a kindred spirit is near. People rushing by. Screeching steamer. Sugar crystals cascading into a pool of foam. Thank you, have a good day. Chairs scraping across the floor. I'd also like a blueberry scone, please. The strings fade out as the horns hold a single chilling note. They feel it. Each accutely aware of the other. A woman's laughter. What can I make for you today? A single car horn. Forks clanking on plates. I've got a large soy latte decaf ready!
A baby laughs yellow.
It breaks through to Harriet and Will and speaks to their hearts. Both turn in search of the source of such joy and find each other's gaze. In an instant they can see the colors of each other's soul. Vibrant and warm the colors tell their stories of purple birthdays, orange holidays, yellow friendships, grey confusion, black despair and green healing. Every color reaching out to the other. Their colors bleed together.
Smashing glass. The gaze is broken. Harriet and Will look away. The piccalo returns. The paper cup burns the hand. Harriet closes her eyes and rests her head on the chair. Will prepares for the cold, gusty wind. And as he leaves they both can feel it. They have been forever changed and they love each other for it. (10/15/05)