»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Kenny (final chapter of the Terry story)
| Passions in Prose |
|
Kenny (final chapter of the Terry story) |
|
|
serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738
|
Sometimes people go crazy right in front of our eyes. They might say and do obscene things. They might quit bathing. We might hear rumors that they were found walking in circles on the highway. They might even take our hands, and look into our eyes, pleading for understanding. They might smell real bad, and it might be damned uncomfortable. Sometimes people go crazy right in front of our eyes. And still we find it hard to believe. The first time I saw him this way, I thought he was full of crap. He was still lithe then--an imp of a guitar player, prancing through the house in mischief. Blonde and blue-eyed, a mirror of Terry--he jumped to the top of the coffee table, from a flat-footed stance; and as he tottered on his toes, I thought that had he a spotlight, he would own a crowd. He was beautiful. "Play the guitar, Kenny--play it!" his brother urged. Kenny smiled wickedly and would hit some notes, then strike the strings in discordance. Finally, someone said, "Please, Ken? Play the instrumental you wrote..." I saw a bit of him at home again in his eyes as he mumbled, "lemme tune up." Then one by one, he wanged each string to popping, tightening the keys past duress, and he grinned at us in triumph after the final G string gave way, his guitar now rendered useless. Six strings of curlicued venom on a box and a "**** you" in his eyes--that's when I knew I'd watched someone go crazy. Kenny was gone. The last time I saw Kenny alive was when the band played. He was hanging around out front. I had heard about the circles he walked in the highway, and yes, he did smell bad. But I offered my hand to him, and he took it, like a toddler in trust. We walked together to the front of the stage, where I knew some folks. I sat on the floor with the others in a social horseshoe-he sat behind me, but gripping my hand. My boyfriend walked up, and raised eyebrows, even voicing, "What's THIS?" and I said, "You remember. This is Kenny." And he said, "It's great to see you again, Ken," as Kenny smiled shyly. "Take care of my woman." he chided Ken. And Kenny giggled. I thought that everything was alright. I don't know when I lost him that night. The band began to play, and I lost track of his hand. He just disappeared, like a balloon let go. Kenny just floated away quietly. At first, "they" thought it was murder. "They" thought he had been pushed from the bridge. Until they found out about Terry. And Theresa. And the circles he walked on the highway, searching for his sisters. Then, finally, "they" were right: It was a tragedy. They closed the books. [This message has been edited by serenity (04-16-2002 06:52 AM).] |
||
| © Copyright 2002 serenity blaze - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Sometimes people go crazy right in front of our eyes. And still we find it hard to believe. The first time I saw him this way, I thought he was full of crap. He was still lithe then--an imp of a guitar player, prancing through the house in mischief. Blonde and blue-eyed, a mirror of Terry--he jumped to the top of the coffee table, from a flat-footed stance; and as he tottered on his toes, I thought that had he a spotlight, he would own a crowd. He was beautiful. ================================ I saw a bit of him at home again in his eyes as he mumbled, "lemme tune up." Then one by one, he wanged each string to popping, tightening the keys past duress, and he grinned at us in triumph after the final G string gave way, his guitar now rendered useless. Six strings of curlicued venom on a box and a "**** you" in his eyes--that's when I knew I'd watched someone go crazy. Kenny was gone. =================================== After reading all three of these...my moth heart aches for the why of these things... why one family should have to know so much pain and loss, why does it get passed on to the children, what was taken from them so long ago to leave them so lost? And I know the answers to those questions wont change the outcome, but I guess I am always of the thought that understanding the reasons might help us to break the cycle of pain. For some things there wont be any answers. Some people come into our lives for just a little while and knowing them changes us forever. Just know you did them all justice and the words touched places deep....proof of a gifted writer. love you KA mothyme how about how good it feels to finally forgive you |
||
|
PhaerieChild Senior Member
since 1999-08-30
Posts 1787Aloha, Oregon |
I just read all three installments of this and I am blown away by your prose ability. You gave each character heart and soul and made it that much harder to let them go in the end. How very sad that these people felt they had nowhere to turn, no one to talk to. Patience is the ability to idle your motor, when you feel like stripping your gears. Author Unknown |
||
|
fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
Oh my! Again. You seem to be a very good writer of tragedies, for sure. Good job on this series. This one's also going into my library! "If history is to change, let it change. If the world is to be destroyed, so be it. If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh" |
||
|
serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Wow...thanks for the comments and the encouragement from those who e mailed as well. I'm happy that you guys seem to like this, because this was sort of my test, to see if people would respond to my little stories--see, while I was away, I did some writing, and I decided to write the way I speak. I just decided to try to tell my stories in my own voice. (yep, I started writing, by making a conscious decision to write without TRYING to write) *chuckle* I do hope it works for you! Thanks all, and I am still trying to find time to recipricate the kindnesses you all have shown, without getting too caught up in pc land again.  |
||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Keep speaking, and make sure white pages capture it.... |
||
|
fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
Hm. Interesting ideas. A lot of modern writing, I've found, has featured a colloquial style. I think that type of style gives your stories a sense of personality. You're not just telling a story with narrative, but also standing right there in front of your reader and forcing him/her to experience what you're saying. "If history is to change, let it change. If the world is to be destroyed, so be it. If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh" |
||
|
Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
i remember you sending me a story - rather, pieces of - a couple of years ago... teh harsh writing style then has been captured perfectly now. you have in no way lost the pang, the 'jab you in the stomach' that a reader MUST feel when following your words... and yet you've tightened up the prose to a very decent level. it's easily readable, easy to follow, and poignant in every statement. i'm proud of you Karen, honestly, truly proud. Hugs  C |
||
|
serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chris? BIG GRINS for such high praise from you. It means much to me. Thank you, lovie. Your editorial skills and constructive criticism has been a tremendous help to me. And your own writing remains an inspiration. Geez...I sound like I just got an academy award! yeah, yeah, blah blah, I'll shaddup now! |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
