Category Archives: My own works
This is a paper I wrote for a Creative Non-Fiction class. It describes an example of an Outcast Dimension (geek-out spot).
He Says It’s In His Veins
He sits here, in my room, at the end of my bed, legs touching his chest in a crouch that leaves his butt hovering a few inches from the comforter. In this position Jeff reminds me of a perched bird about to take flight. He is completely comfortable this way. Even though he could stay like that for hours, he changes position: legs crossed and tucked under him. His attention is on a conversation with our friend, Amos. They talk about everything: from Pokémon to the gods and theology. Long, complicated ideas bounce between them, broken up now and then by bits of humor. Jeff’s boyish charm lights his face with a wide smile and his chocolate brown eyes shine beneath his thick lashes. His shoulders shake with sudden laughter and I am smiling with him.
His sun tanned skin stands out against his baby blue shirt, which is at least a size too big and hangs below his waist. I can imagine it is comfortable, though. The thick cotton is soft beneath my fingers. His socks, like his shirt, don’t have a stain on them. They are pure white. How does that happen? Even when I wear brand new socks and keep my shoes on all day, when I take them off there is some coloration or some wear shown in them. But, his remain clean.
His shoes lay abandoned on my floor under the side table that doubles as a chess board and next to my twilight book (which he hates). Posters and pictures and records layer the walls. Clothes and papers and books litter the floor. One shelf is full of knick knacks and rocks, another full of movies, and three more full of books. On top of my dresser is my fish tank with my neon fish swimming obliviously inside. And what space is left is filled with me, Jeff, Amos, and Alison (Amos’s girlfriend) who is pressed into the corner looking up YouTube videos on my computer. But, he is completely comfortable here in the chaos that is my room.
Jeff dons his usual sunglasses on top of his head, nestled into his dark brown, almost black hair. They are a regular fixture on him, though the lenses are scratched and pitted from years of use. As he gestures in his conversation his silver dragon claw ring flashes in the light. This, too, has become a regular fixture on him, a part of him.
As he gets off the bed to play an RPG (Role Playing Game) with Amos, he grabs his Mtn. Dew bottle. He is never without Mtn. Dew; he says it’s in his veins. I have never seen him drink water for as long as I’ve known him. He refuses to drink it. In addition to Mtn. Dew he is never without his red lunchbox. He keeps his wallet, phone, magic cards, and other such things in it.
He sits down on the hard wood floor, in the only bare patch, making himself at home in my messy room, and loses himself in the game. As Jeff is writing something on the game sheet Amos picks up a stuffed pink flamingo from the floor and places it on Jeff’s shoulder. Whether Jeff is oblivious or not, he leaves it on his shoulder. It slips down his back as he leans forward, but settles halfway down. Still, he leaves it there. After a few moments he finally realizes the flamingo is there and, instead of flinging it off, he places it on the bed gently.
The two men continue to hash out a new system for playing the RPG and talk about weapons, dice rolls, point systems, and gear to bring on a hypothetical journey. Off and on, they add bad accents to their conversation and joke about sexual innuendos. Jeff’s laugh sounds like a “tee-hee hee hee” and cuts across the conversation, making me smile yet again. His deeper, brooding nature seems to be put on hold, over shadowed by the joy of spending an evening with friends. He turns around and sends me a kiss through the air. When I tell him I am going to write about his kissy face he just shrugs and smiles at me. I close my journal, get off the bed, and enjoy the rest of the night with him.
John has always felt more at home in the fantasy realms of his games where he can be Alexander, his avatar. When an opportunity to dive even deeper into one of his games presents itself, he can’t wait to try it. A new virtual reality gaming software allows the player to transport his or her consciousness into the game server. But, John gets more than he bargains for when a glitch traps the players in the game indefinitely. Is this truly what he wants?
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Check out my story. I will be publishing the rest later this year.
Even in her dying moments, Alex couldn’t help being witty. The EMT trying to help her was withdrawn and distracted, until he saw her tenacity in the face of death. Captivated by her, he had to save her in the only way he knew how. He changed her into a vampire. What would happen after that, she didn’t know and neither did he. She didn’t know who she was, who this man who saved her was, or how to deal with the darker side of immortality.