darkersidethursday

darker | side | thursday | 2

Image | | andy townend

I gaze across at the trees.

Brittle branches blurred by the breeze, leaves coalescing into a swirling, suppurating soup in front of my aching eyes. You couldn’t make it up. Could you? Or maybe you could. Me, I don’t know. Don’t really know much right now.

I feel pressure in my eyes, darkness enveloping me. That old cliche. Gets them every single time. When I try to describe it to them. The feeling. Hell, I can barely describe it to myself. So how to them?

My fingers feel numb. My ever present and faithful companion (not the bumblebee this time), the pain in my back, ebbs. Hey, that’s good, don’t knock it. There has to be some positive side to all this. No? No, probably not. But I digress. I flow.

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darker | side | thursday | 1

Image | | andy townend

My finger is red raw, bleeding. Distracting, debilitating.

The index finger, on my left hand.

The nail is torn, blood oozing from the tip and running in a slow, painful rivulet. A stinging, insolent, rude and raw pain. I want to peel the torn nail off slowly, feel the parting of flesh, the slicing agony. Need that. Want it.

My fist clenches. Fingers dig into the splintered wooden table top, slivers of fresh twisted wood piercing flesh, sliding under my nails.

I shift uneasily. That empty, roiling feeling inside me making me anxious, again. I can not sit still. Can not focus.

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darker | side | thursday

| andy townend

Some of you may remember a thing called dark | side | thursday?

Or perhaps, may care not to remember?

That dark tale marked my first foray into writing an episodic story. Some may perhaps wish it were my last. Despite myself, I completed that task, and, over 52 weeks, published 500 words each week, every Thursday.

It was not easy, and many times I considered throwing in the towel. Perhaps some of you may wish I had. Probably fewer still remember. Or care. I have this half formed plan to collate that story and publish it as a complete work.

Watch this space. Or not.

Well, I promised myself (and others who will remain nameless) that I would try my hand at writing again.

So, here we are.

Starting next Thursday at 24:00 UTC (if I can figure out how to schedule the post properly), I will publish the first chapter of my latest folly (yes, it is already written and ready to roll).

The song remains the same. It is a dark story. It will be 500 words each week. Ah, yes, my word count will be based on Scrivener, the wonderful app that I will use to draft and collate my story. At times the word count here in the WordPress editor throws a petulant hissy fit and disagrees with Scrivener. But hell, I don’t care. And worse, I might even write more or less each week. We will see what we see, no? As if anyone cares.

So, if any of you do care to join me as, once again, I explore my dark(er) side, see you at 24:00 next Thursday.