I wrote a rough outline for the first chapter for this project:techgnotic.deviantart.com/jour…
It described a few scenes happening in 2 different locations, I developed it in a few horus in 2 days and due to the maximum word limit suggested, I edit it down to the first scene and its flashbacks.
After some last minute corrections, I tried to upload it and Oops! the deadline was at 5PM L.A. time (something they never made clear anywhere within the guidelines).
A little bit ticked off, I thought "fuck it, I'm gonna post it here" So, here it goes. (to read the prologue, go to the link above)
paul was staring at the stain.
It looked like a microscopic galaxy, a titillating spot in the middle of vast darkness of black fabric.
3 days passed since he discovered the stain, He thought he didn't put the pants away to wash because the costs of laundry, for the brief period he would be in the city it wouldn't be worthy, and fuck it, aside from that speckle on the left leg, the pants were clean.
He hanged them on the only chair in the room, 2 feet away from the bed, he remained laying down, eyes locked on the spot.
It reminded him of a mouldy island in aunt Bessie's house, on her son's bedroom ceiling. The house smelled weird, he never liked it, it smelled like sweet uncooked dough, like something pungent and cheap cologne with old lock up humidity in the backgound of some other smells coming from the old gutters. It was in that bedroom that one night he felt aunt Bessie caressing his hair in the dark after saying goodnight, when he turned his head around to reply, she was allready two rooms away.
It looked like other things too, though he couldn't tell what was it made of, it seemed like those watery stains that certain cockheads sport on their collars, but it didn't seemed quite that. It wasn't gastric acid either, he remembered that time with Dan in that ferris wheel where each capsule had the size of a two seat cockpit, completely shut except for small wire netted windows and it span on its horizontal axis when the wheel circled. Poor Danny started to scream seconds after the engines started, he clenched his fingers on the small window and shouted through to the operator to stop it but he couldn't hear him. Then the above and the below where the same, Paul was high and enjoying the shaking, Danny coughed green, almost fluorescent heavy goo, running up across his face, into his eyes, in that confinement that had no center of gravity.
This stain had a relief, a texture, it seemed like dust dissolved in saliva, maybe some epilepsy medication, maybe other drug, some prescription capsules are filled with stuff so refined and compressed, that light reflects on them in a strange way, this one seemed to radiate in the evening.
Paul was not questioning himself why the past few days seemed irrelevant, he didn't remember doing much as he expected when he first arrived, he also realized he didn't spend much time out, his usually volatile sight was attracted, almost like forced by inertia, like powder swirling down a funnel, right into that spot nearby the zipper.
He realized it was night, a pale street lamp outside the window made the transition almost unnoticeable, his dried up eyes did not break that unaware trance. Now he felt his body moving. He felt his head still on the pillow, but he saw his own body rise and sit on the side, leaning forward, his nose approaching the stain.
The smell like stabbing needles, a green lightning bolt ramifying up from his nares, with closed eyes he saw a night sky of green light raining on the city, then he was no longer sitting on the bed, nor laying on it, but checking again the stain on his left leg, now with the trousers on, again in the underground.