Creative Writing

The Sinister Made-For-TV Movie (Club Writing #3)

/ Leo the Writer Guy / Leave a comment

The kids were already doing their rounds in the neighborhood, little grim reapers and evil witches wandering the autumn leaves laden roads. The occasional serial killer with a blood pumping butcher knife knocks on the door, attempting to strike the elderly ladies with fear but only gets pinches on his rosy cheeks. Street lamps ignite, lighting the spooky suburban streets for the trick-or-treating boys and girls.

Meanwhile, in a bare 3 apartment house on the corner of this frightening sight is a deadbeat young guy named Herman. Unlike the spirited children of this dark night Herman is dull, not dull as dirt since even dirt has some charisma. No, Herman is the guy that goes to work moving furniture for a living then treats himself at the sports bar, downing a couple cold ones before going home to tune out his already sputtering brain on a little mind erasing reality TV.

The only decent part of Herman’s duller than dirt life is this daily ritual of rotting television but on the month of October all that plays are Halloween specials. The typical slasher flick or ghost story can only be rerun before Herman suddenly reanimates, lamenting the days of proper prime time entertainment. In his youth, Herman would go with his friends to the graveyard and fashion some on the spot ghastly tale to jolt his buddies into a state of hysterics.

Tonight, he will not tolerate the garbage that passes off as a “Halloween special” so he went to the local video store, in business since 1985, and got himself the movie with most gruesome title he ever heard. The title, Blood Curdling Ultra-Violent Manslaughter on the Side of Route Doomsday XVII: The Return of Satanic Disco Cannibals from the Other Side of Planet Disastriod and the Heretical Communists. Herman knew from the title that he struck gold.

Walking through London (Club Writing #2)

/ Leo the Writer Guy / Leave a comment

A row of people pepper themselves along the brick boundary of the riverbed. These people act out everyday conversations. One couple notice a boutique, a group of children recount a lazy school morning.

Another group weigh their lunch option; one guy is in the mood for pizza, another craves noodles and the only girl begs her boyfriend to order cheeseburgers. Her boyfriend prefers egg salad.

As these people talk crowds pass back and forth, waving through the pedestrian walkway overlooking the expansive river. Some of the waves could be college kids or recent grads celebrating with their families, maybe a crowd is visiting the city for the first time, enjoying the concrete skyline.

An older man has his close friend pose by a theater as his wife invite their daughter to join. The man insists on the photo but struggles to utilize the camera but after a brief struggles he succeeds. The group rejoices. Another group is motivated to take a photo and soon the theater is a regular tourist attraction. Some people stay on their phones unfazed by the sights surrounding them. A living city functions by the crowds flowing through its streets.

Ice tea can be good sometimes. Other times it is made rather poorly. If you need to quench your thirst, you could do a lot worst than getting an iced tea made organic from a local food stall. The brewer may have the smile of a saint but the question is clear: is the iced tea any good? The struggle for a drink is intense, any moment you can collapse from thirst. Light headed, tongue reduced to dust. But a stand serving iced tea may grace your eyes and excite the tongue. With a pep in your step, you decide to order the iced tea from the divine brewer.

You watch her serve the golden, shining beverage into its humble cup. The plastic immediately dampens from its precious contents. A straw is placed inside. A lemon and mint leaf enters the drinks, your anticipation heightens from the presentation of your masterfully crafted cup of iced tea. You pay her for the fine work, taking your first sip at your leave.

What do you know? You ordered sugar water. Not iced tea. Not water with mint and lemon. Sugar water. At least your thirst had been sedated, from the disappointment anyways.

The Papacy and Global Affairs (Club Writing #1)

/ Leo the Writer Guy / Leave a comment

After Pope Francis succeeds Barack Obama following the next Presidential elections, all sorts of drama will ensue. The signs were clear, when the blood moon arrived all of Holy Cross will fall to his Papal forces. Soon every man, woman and child would encounter the great power of President Francis and damn well recognize the wrath of God Himself. Of course, the rise of the Papal Empire will not be all doom and gloom, the poor will soon profit from the grand charities enforced by the president, though the 1% would relinquish all their wealth to the state. Despite what the heathen secularists would have you think, the rise of the Papal Empire would not bring about a new dark age upon the world but another Renaissance of great art, thought and literature. In fact, the pious department of heavenly science will eventually send the first missionary to space and show Martians the light. Catholicism will fly to the heavens in all its glory and the Papacy will unite the world under one global, holy government.