Pick Me!

A weblog by Laura Moncur


Discarded (part 2)

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 7:32 am

February 22, 2002

He was trying to talk to her again. His speech was awkward and stilted. She could tell that just asking her the question was incredibly difficult for him. “Have you gone down to any of the houses?” She shook her head and responded, “Nope. I haven’t done anything. I really should get down there before everything is gone.” She left it open for him. He could ask her to go downtown with him. Come on, fella, you can do it.

“You should really go down there. The Olympics is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.” She sighed, disappointed. “I know. I’d really like to share that experience with someone.” He let a few awkward seconds pass before he just turned around and left her cubicle. At this rate, just dating is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for him.

Later that evening, she looked around her immaculately clean apartment. She fired up her computer and went online. Every time she downloaded her email, she cursed the day that she put her information on the dating service. She hadn’t received one email from a normal man. Every one of them was either a pervert or a freak. She sifted through her inbox: pervert, spam, perverted spam, freak, freak, perv. When it was clean, she started to surf. His quiet and reserved voice stuttered in her head, “The Olympics is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.” She logged off.

She felt like a tourist in her own city. All the boring office buildings that sat nestled between the mountains were covered with huge murals of Olympic Events. She couldn’t even drive to where she normally parked when she went downtown because there was an entire section of her city quarantined off. She parked and shuttled to the various houses representing the different teams. Free beer. That was a phrase she had never heard in her beloved city, but she was driving. No beer for her.

She clicked pictures galore. The rings on the mountain, every mural on the buildings, and she even clicked a picture of that famous singer in that band that was performing that night. She didn’t actually see the performance. She just took a picture of one of the many televisions broadcasting all the events. Despite all of the gaiety, she was still alone, and worse, she could feel it. Worse still, not one person around her noticed.

February 22, 2003

“Don’t you wish it was all happening again?” She was very confused. Sometimes he was so nervous around her that he would say weird things. He pointed at the old Olympics poster in an effort to clarify, “Don’t you wish that we could rewind and do the Olympics all over again?” The wave of loneliness washed over again, “God, no! I ended up going downtown alone to see everything. It was horrible.”

He just stood there bobbing his head. She could tell that she had said the wrong thing and he had no premeditated response. She picked up the silence, “It would have been so much better if I had gone down there with someone I knew.” She left it open for him. Come on, fella, you can do it. He fidgeted and touched his face. “Hey, you think you’d like to go to coffee sometime?” She smiled, “Yeah, that would be nice.”


Story By The Numbers

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 7:50 pm

Doug Lomond sat at the pinochle table. It was the dinner table only a half hour ago, but the dishes were washed and the leftovers were freezing, so now it was the pinochle table. He took out the 48-card deck and started shuffling. His brother, Daniel, took the pad and pencil and meticulously wrote the words “We,” “They,” “Bid,” and “Deal” on it. Doug and his brother had played pinochle since they were children. When they married, they taught their wives the game and the weekly ritual had continued into the next generation. Doug’s wife, Emily, was talking with Daniel’s wife, Sharon. They hadn’t noticed that the men were starting the game.

Doug shuffled the cards loudly. After years of practice, he could modulate the sound of shuffling as he pleased. He needed to tell them his news. As his hands repeated the motion, he realized that he had been waiting for an appropriate segue. His eyes blinked rapidly as he came to know that he would never find the right opening. He would never find the perfect time to tell them, “I’m dying.” His wife and sister-in-law sat at the table and Doug carefully placed the deck of cards to Daniel at his right. Daniel cut the cards and Doug began to deal them, three at a time.

“Prepare to die! Danny and I found a pinochle strategy book in the used book store and we are going to kick your butts!” Sharon was picking up her cards and arranging them by suit. The words had taken the air from Doug’s lungs; his lungs that should be pink and healthy based on his regular exercise and healthy lifestyle, his lungs that never had to deal with bad habits like smoking or coal mines, his lungs that had betrayed him and turned black with cancer. He tried to calm his breathing, a technique he had nearly mastered until things got to the point that he knew that he needed to see a doctor. He quietly finished dealing and arranging his own cards while the conversation raged around him.

“A used book store, huh? I never thought of looking there. I don’t think people play pinochle anymore because I can never find anything about it in the games section at Barnes and Noble,” Emily had carefully placed her cards in her hands and was waiting for Doug. Sharon responded, “I was surprised when I saw it. You should have seen me. I grabbed the book and held it tight like someone was going to try to get it away from me. The store was empty but I was looking around like I had to protect it.” Daniel looked at Doug and Emily and chimed, “Now, prepare to defend yourself.” Emily laughed and responded, “What did this book have in it?! Cheating techniques?” The three jovial players laughed and made funny symbols with their hands that stood for hearts, diamonds, spades or clubs. Doug blinked away his tears and stayed quiet about his news.

“The bid’s to you, Sharon,” Daniel urged. Sharon pondered her cards and spoke with authority, “I’ll open.” Emily immediately replied, “Twenty-six.” Daniel looked at his cards, obviously torn, “I’ll say twenty-seven, once.” Doug didn’t want to fight his partner on the bidding, “Pass.” While the bidding continued between Emily and Sharon, Doug’s mind wandered. He could almost see the doctor’s face in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t remember her hair color, but her expressive eyes had told him the news before her lips, “It’s cancer, Mr. Lomond. It has advanced to the point that we can do hardly anything about it. You really should tell your wife and family about this. Do you need me to meet with them?” Doug had just sat there, blinking at her. It took him a full minute to respond, “No. I’ll tell them myself.” He just sat there while the doctor told him about the procedures she could try. He agreed to meet with her again tomorrow to start with her recommendations, but tonight he needed to tell them.

Emily took the bid and called the trump, “Spades. Fat lot your book did for you. If you can’t take the bid you can’t win, you know.” Sharon rolled her eyes and placed cards face down on the table. Doug took an Ace and the three spade cards that he had been dealt and passed them to Emily, who cursed under her breath while she laid down her meld, “Damn, I had three legs and I was hoping you could fill me in.” Doug looked at his hand and realized that he hadn’t passed the Jack of Diamonds to her. He could have passed that instead of the Ace. “Damn,” Doug showed his Jack of Diamonds to the table and they all groaned. Daniel spoke first, “Man, you ALWAYS send over the Jack of Diamonds, even if you have to hold some trump. Grandpa would have kicked your butt! What’s the matter? Your head still at the post office?” Doug just shook his head and looked at Emily, “Sorry, babe. I’ll pay better attention next time.” She shrugged while handing back her discard, “It’s ok. I have my family. The double pinochle would have just been icing on the cake.” Daniel wrote down the meld for both teams, they all picked up their cards.

Emily led the first card for the first trick with the Ace of Spades. Daniel slapped down the other Ace of Spades, “Dammit! Just enjoy it now because that’s your last trick.” The three players laughed at Daniel’s posturing while Doug played a Nine of Hearts. Sharon played the Nine of Spades and Emily took the trick. She always gathered her tricks. This time she looked at them lovingly, “My, isn’t that pretty?” She held them up for all to see, “Look, I pulled the other Ace on the first trick.” She was smiling and Sharon responded, “It just means that all the trump is in one hand. It’s going to be like pulling teeth to get it all out.” The three of them laughed again while Emily led the Ten of Spades. Daniel and Doug sloughed low cards in Clubs and Hearts respectively and Sharon played her other Nine of Spades.

Doug thought about how nice the evening was. The three of them were happy and joking with each other. If he told them, the night would be ruined. They wouldn’t want to play anymore. They would want to talk about it. They would want to analyze it. All of this wonderful evening would be gone. He heard the children from both families playing video games in the living room and imagined their scared faces eavesdropping when the tone of the adults changed. Three tricks went by with little notice from him.

Emily had pulled all the trump without losing control and he barely gave it a second thought. She led an Ace of Diamonds and he sloughed the other Ace of Diamonds while thinking of who would take over his route at the Post Office. The second he put his card down, the rest of the table shrieked. Daniel picked it up and handed it back to him, “You don’t want to play that!” At the same time, Sharon jokingly chided him, “No, no! He played the card! They have to go with it!” Emily wasn’t the last to speak, but her tirade lasted the longest, “We all know you have a Jack to play on this trick! You KNOW I have a loser in my hand! You should have played the Jack instead. What were you thinking?” The table quieted and he looked at the three most important adults in his life, “I’m dying.” They all shook their heads still laughing, and Daniel was the first to speak, “I’d say! That’s the second screw-up tonight! At this rate, we don’t need any fancy pinochle techniques.” Doug interrupted him, “No, really. I’m dying. I saw a pulmonary specialist today about those breathing problems I’ve been having and I have cancer.” The table fell silent and the evening was ruined, just like he feared.


A Novel Idea

Filed under: Looking For Christ,Musings on Being a Writer — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

After converting all of my entries to WordPress, I noticed that I have only a couple of entries in the Fiction file. For all my talk of being a writer, I haven’t given you many examples of my fiction writing. If I hadn’t bothered with categories, I wouldn’t have noticed how slim my Fiction section is. I feel like a fraud.

The fact that I haven’t shared my fiction with you doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I write fiction at least three times a week and I have been working on a novel that I have been thinking about for quite awhile. I’ve tortured the closest people in my life (Mike, Stacey and Dan) with my preliminary chapters. Just because they love me, doesn’t mean they want to read my work. Fiction is such a fickle fancy that I can’t depend on impressing my intimates with my tastes.

The novel I’m working on right now is a science fiction piece about time travel. Ambigo Thomas is an elite medical professional called to be on a team of specialists sent back in time to find the truth about Jesus Christ. He finds himself as the sole atheist on the team, which is financed by the Catholic Church. He struggles to keep the team’s focus logical and studious in the dangerous and primitive society we call The Dawn of Christianity. The title of the story is, Looking for Christ.

Something in me wants to keep it a secret. I want to hide the chapters and the plot and even the title from the eyes of the world. I want to finish it before I let others see it. I want to hide the chapters in the desk drawer next to the finished copy of The Falstaff. After five years of stagnating in my desk, The Falstaff is reviled in my mind. I am ashamed at its clumsy writing. It was written before everyone had a cell phone in their pocket, which destroys the story line. Sure, I could place it in the early nineties when it was written, but that isn’t the only plot hole in it. No, it sat in the drawer too long and it will never be a good novel no matter how much I rework it.

Why am I tempted to subject Looking for Christ to the same fate? Fear. I’m scared that someone will steal my plot. I’m scared that someone will make fun of my writing. I’m scared that a typographical error will embarrass me. I’m scared that publishers won’t want my book if it has been on the Internet. I’m scared that I will never finish the book and that failure will be there for the world to see. I’m scared that I will need to change chapters and they will already be published online. I’m scared of so many things that I have four chapters waiting on my hard drive. Instead of posting them when they were done, I’ve started to let them stagnate.

To Hell with all of that. So what if someone steals my plot? I could write ten stories with this plot line and each of them would be different. So what if someone makes fun of my writing? At least I’m writing every day as opposed to most people. Every word I write makes me a better writer. So what if I make a typographical error? Guess what?! I’m going to make tons of them. I’ll do my best to edit it, but only fresh eyes can see mistakes like these. I’m offering these chapters up to hundreds of fresh eyes every day. So what if publishers don’t want my book because it’s already published on the Internet? The publishing world is changing and maybe I’m my own publisher. Maybe publishers will be more likely to notice me if I have a server-crashing website. So what if I never finish the book? I’m more likely to finish it if my throngs of eager readers keep asking me when Chapter Five is coming online. So what if I need to change things in the chapters. This is the Orwellian future that we have all worried about. Big Brother isn’t watching, but all of us Wilsons are changing the past every day on our weblogs.

As of today, NO MORE FEAR. I refuse to hide my fiction anymore and tomorrow morning I will have Chapter One online for all of you to read.


Looking For Christ: Chapter One

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter One:

Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter One Download

13 K MP3 file recorded at 64 kbps – 28 minutes 52 seconds

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Two

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Read Chapter Two here:

Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter Two Download

15 K MP3 file recorded at 64 kbps – 32 minutes 11 seconds

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Three

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 11:59 am

Here is Chapter Three…

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Four

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Four…

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Five

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Five…

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Six

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Six…

(Continue Reading…)


Writing Weekend

Filed under: Looking For Christ,Musings on Being a Writer — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

I have to finish Chapter Seven this weekend, so I’m going to concentrate on that right now. They are meeting some big-wig holy men in this chapter, so I’m feeling some anxiety about it. I’m scared to write some of these people. I know they are only human beings, but up until this point, I was putting words in the mouths of fictional characters. Now, I’m doing it with revered people who could have actually existed, so I’m scared a little bit.

I need to work past that fear this weekend and get this first “real” chapter done and posted. I’ll write again on Tuesday.


Still Working…

Filed under: Looking For Christ,Musings on Being a Writer — Laura Moncur @ 2:24 pm

I’m only half-way done with Chapter Seven. I’m still working on it and I’ll post it as soon as I’m finished. My horoscope said that quality not quantity is important this week, so I’m taking the time to do it right. I’m concentrating on getting this chapter done and then I’ll get back to my regularly scheduled writing.

Looking For Christ: Chapter Seven

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 4:49 pm

Here is Chapter Seven.

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Eight

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Eight…

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Nine

Filed under: Fiction,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Nine…

(Continue Reading…)


National Novel Writing Month

Filed under: Looking For Christ,Musings on Being a Writer — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

There is a contest that started on the first of November called National Novel Writing Month. I just heard about it yesterday. Write a 175 page, 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I believe it can be done. It might not be a good novel, but I could write a novel in that amount of time. If I knew that I would be dead in 30 days, you can be damn sure that I would finish my novel before the deadline.

I’m not participating, even though it seems right up my alley. If I did away with all my other writing, (the blog, the web comic in progress, the personal journal pages) I could devote all my time into writing a chapter a day. It really seems like something that I should be attracted to, but I’m scared of it.

It looks easy enough to sign up. All I have to do is sign up, complete my personal information and log my word counts and book excerpts into the website. It works out to 2,000 words a day if I start right now. Why am I scared?

National Novel Writing Month Maybe I’m scared that I can’t do it or that I’m too lazy to do it. Maybe I’m scared that I will fail. Yeah, I’m scared I’ll fail. Fuck that. I’m signing up right now and I’m going to write at least 2,000 words a day. Even if they suck, it’s better than nothing at all. That’s what you guys have been seeing of my book for the last month: Nothing at all. This is just what I need to get my juices flowing again.

Looking For Christ: Chapter Ten

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 6:00 am

Here is Chapter Ten…

Chapter Word Count: 4476

Monthly Word Count: 4476

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Eleven

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 11:07 am

Here is Chapter Eleven…

Chapter Word Count: 3032

Monthly Word Count: 7508

(Continue Reading…)

Looking For Christ: Chapter Twelve

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 7:08 pm

Here is Chapter Twelve…

Chapter Word Count: 2118

Monthly Word Count: 9626

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Thirteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 10:51 pm

Here is Chapter Thirteen…

Chapter Word Count: 3061

Monthly Word Count: 12,687

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Fourteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 10:50 pm

Here is Chapter Fourteen…

Chapter Word Count: 2748

Monthly Word Count: 15,435

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Fifteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 7:25 pm

Here is Chapter Fifteen…

Chapter Word Count: 4109

Monthly Word Count: 19,544

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Sixteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 10:42 am

Here is Chapter Sixteen…

Chapter Word Count: 3640

Monthly Word Count: 23,184

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Seventeen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 8:10 pm

Here is Chapter Seventeen…

Chapter Word Count: 3831

Monthly Word Count: 27,015

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Eighteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 4:29 pm

Here is Chapter Eighteen…

Chapter Word Count: 3158

Monthly Word Count: 30,173

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Nineteen

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:56 pm

Here is Chapter Nineteen…

Chapter Word Count: 2900

Monthly Word Count: 33,073

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 4:55 pm

Here is Chapter Twenty…

Chapter Word Count: 3399

Monthly Word Count: 36,472

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-One

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 10:35 am

Here is Chapter Twenty-One…

Chapter Word Count: 3338

Monthly Word Count: 39,810

(Continue Reading…)

Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-Two

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 1:52 pm

Here is Chapter Twenty-Two…

Chapter Word Count: 2730

Monthly Word Count: 42,540

(Continue Reading…)

Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-Three

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 8:58 pm

Here is Chapter Twenty-Three…

Chapter Word Count: 2822

Monthly Word Count: 45,362

(Continue Reading…)


Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-Four

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 6:15 pm

Here is Chapter Twenty-Four…

Chapter Word Count: 3343

Monthly Word Count: 48,705

(Continue Reading…)

Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-Five

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 8:14 pm

Here is Chapter Twenty-Five…

Chapter Word Count: 1929

Monthly Word Count: 50,634

(Continue Reading…)

I Made My 50,000!!

Filed under: Looking For Christ,Musings on Being a Writer — Laura Moncur @ 8:37 pm

NanoWrimo Winner 2004

I made it! I just verified my word count with the NanoWrimo people and I’m done!

Thank you, Michael, for proofreading my chapters! Thank you, Mom, for reading the first few chapters and giving me some encouragement. Thank you, St. Lucia, for giving me hope in the beginning when I needed it.

Me sleep now…


Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter One

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 11:52 pm

This audio track is MP3. It was recorded with MusicMatch (at 160 kbps) and I haven’t learned how to adjust the microphone level so that it’s loud enough to hear without cranking the volume up all the way. If it were meant to be perfect, then I would record it in a professional studio and the dog’s claws wouldn’t be clicking in the background.

Perfection is overrated…

Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter One Download

13 K file – 28 minutes 52 seconds


Mike put this track through Sound Forge, fixing the volume level a bit and removing the dull hum in the background. To speed the download process, we made them 64 kbps instead of 160 kbps. Since he fixed the volume and noise, we didn’t lose much by reducing the quality and it will download a lot faster. He can’t fix all the little speaking errors, however…


Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter Two

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 10:37 am

Fixed some microphone problems. Still recorded on MusicMatch. Mike adjusted the levels on Sound Forge and was able to edit out one phenomenal speaking error. Other than that, this is about as good as it gets without entering a recording studio.

Looking For Christ Audio: Chapter Two Download

15 K MP3 file recorded at 64 kbps – 32 minutes 11 seconds


Looking For Christ: Chapter Twenty-Six

Filed under: Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Here is Chapter Twenty-Six:

(Continue Reading…)


Automatic Music

Filed under: Gadgets & Cool Stuff,Looking For Christ — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Mood Altering Music

In Chapter 10 of my book, Looking For Christ, I created something I called Automatic Music, which fed off the moods of the listener and created music based on the people in the room.

It looks like that invention is coming sooner than I thought. Silly me, I thought I was being so inventive…


Illustration Friday: Wisdom

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

The pool used to be there. She could see the outline of where the pool and the hot tub used to be, both above-ground. The large fence was rusty and unlocked. There was no reason to lock it anymore. There was no pool there for young children to drown themselves in.

The swing set was still there. It wasn’t as strong as the park swing sets, but it was sturdier than Angela’s set in her back yard. Angela had all the cool stuff. This year, her family went to Disneyland. There was no camping at third-rate campsites for her.

She had stopped swinging and started slowly twirling. She twisted the chain while sitting in the seat until it was as tight and high as she could go. When she released her feet, the seat would swing around quickly, ending in a dizzy swirl. When the spinning stopped, she would slowly start the twisting again.

“I’ve never seen anyone pout using a swing set before.” She looked up. Jaime was old. Angela had an older brother, but he was only two years older, so he understood everything. Jaime was more like Dad than a brother. “What do you want, Jaime.” He shook his head. “You’re too young to be a teenager. I didn’t start pouting like this until I was 15.” He sat in the other swing next to her.

(Continue Reading…)


Illustration Friday: Escape

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

He attended the Christmas party every year. Outgoing and gregarious, no one would ever believe the fact that he hated the event. It was a waste of money. It was a stressful ordeal in a supposedly happy place. Worst of all, he was expected to attend and not paid to do so. It was work in a social setting and he hated every minute of it. He counted them down until he could escape.

Three months ago, the secretary was taking a poll. “What would you like to do for the Christmas party this year?” Everyone laughed when he said, “Not have one,” but no one took him seriously. He’s such a kidder, you know.

Three months later, he found himself held hostage for three hours at a casual restaurant in the ritzy part of town. The president of the company flew down on the company dime. He and his wife were staying at the hotel across the street, also on the company dime. The vice-president and a few select clients were also staying at the hotel at the company’s expense. “Fucking waste of money,” he thought to himself.

(Continue Reading…)


Illustration Friday: Fresh

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

“Fresh fruit, that’s what I need,” she thought to herself, “I’ll go to the Farmer’s Market. That’s where I’ll get some good shots. The light will be right and there’s lots of stuff there to take pictures of.” The evening before, she charged her camera batteries and emptied her compact flash card. She planned on getting there right when it started so she would have the whole morning to get good photos.

The vendors were setting up when she arrived. Some of them had shady tents to house their produce. Others just backed their beat-up trucks up to the spot and opened the tailgate. She watched as two policemen gathered the homeless people who slept in that park. She watched one the burly policeman nudge a sleeping man with his foot. The man rose and acquiesced without a word. She aimed her camera and zoomed in as the other policeman worked to rouse a different indigent. She took pictures of the risen walking in a line away from the park and wondered where they were walking to.

She turned back to the Farmer’s Market. The activity had grown and the apples looked bright red in the sunshine. Suddenly her idea of taking pictures of the fresh fruit and vegetables seemed unimportant. She looked at the few snapshots she had taken of the police and the homeless. “Where do they go?” she thought to herself and instinctively started to follow them.

(Continue Reading…)


Illustration Friday: Night

Filed under: Fiction — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Marcus rolled over in his bed and glimpsed the time: 5:30 pm. The sun had slipped behind the mountains and the light was almost gone.”The evenings are coming earlier,” he thought to himself. He headed to the bathroom and his cat ran rings around his legs. It was a dance they performed every time he awoke. The cat tried to trip him and he had become so used to her movements that they moved together in one fluid motion.

He kept vampire hours. He used to wonder about vampires when he was a teenager going through his Goth-stage. Why didn’t they move to near the North Pole for half the year and the South Pole the other half? They wouldn’t have to spend as much time hiding from the sun that way. He finally answered the question for himself several years later: because vampires don’t exist.

(Continue Reading…)

Next Page »

Powered by WordPress
(c) 2003-2007 Laura Moncur