Tools of a writer are the keys to the written. Remember your keys. Try a few, unlock those words. – Ash
Am I Write? # 32 – Try Another Key, Unlock The Block
Tag: story
Story Jots # 8 – Quarter to Death
Leroy Dink. “Dinks” was the Willy Wonka of arcades. He was strange, odd, socially awkward, and moody. Unlike the chocolate factory, there was no need for a golden ticket to get into his whimsical haven for kids. Nope…if Dinks liked you and you had money to spend, you were welcome. If Dinks didn’t like you and you had money to spend, the money was welcome. Oh, and another thing about Dinks. If he really wasn’t fond of you, well, let me just say this. There’s no free men when he makes you play for your own life.
So Long, it’s Killing Me Too – The Red Journal
Hey everyone,
It excites me to write that I have something coming down the pipeline with regards to my series “The Red Journal”. I hit a wall with this project an embarrassing long time ago on account of losing my confidence in the story. But, short and sweet, and no bullsh*t excuses. The Red Journal is back in my “works in progress”.
Also, I’m planning a relaunch of the designated page to get everyone up to speed and on the same well…page. So, hang tight, and soon enough we will all be getting another chance to delve back into the lives of Det. Sarah Wilson, Det. Ethan Frost, supporting cast, and the still unknown killer. Someone who has taken quite the shine to Det. Wilson and there is not one single clue to determine why.
Stay tuned for the next chapter in my killer story that’s literally “in the making”. As in, I am making it up as I go…
James Harbour
Chapter One
It’s Been Addressed
The town of James Harbour was only a few short kilometers up ahead. Jake Fox, a police detective, travelling from the mainland, was hoping his assumptions were correct. This narrowing of the main road had to mean the god-forsaken bus ride would soon be over. It had to. For the four-hour ferry trip and the longest eight-hour drive ever from where the ferry finally landed him ashore had finally taken its toll. His whole body ached, and his neck made a crunching noise as he tilted it slightly to look out the tiny window next to him. Now, he was beginning to realize how remote this community was going to be. A complete contrast to the big city he just left behind. ‘Geez, can you believe people choose to live here?’ He mumbles under his breath. Jake Surveys the landscape some more. He couldn’t deny the beauty of the place. Snow-capped rolling hills, and rugged unforgiving mountains sheltered the tiny hamlet on three landlocked sides. Everything protected from the mood swings of mother nature. The picturesque backdrops he was starting to enjoy suddenly changed. They quickly went from the perfect desktop screensaver to a hillside you would see in Mordor from the Lord of the Rings. The Greyhound bus had begun its descent down a steep winding road. On the left, ice walls and cold black jagged stone. On the right, a thousand foot drop to the Atlantic ocean and some more cold black jagged stone. The further down, the more barren the place became. Jake’s grip got tighter. He looked straight ahead and at the very end of the road, he could barely start to make out what looked like a sign.
Continue reading “James Harbour”Story Jots # 6 – Peephole Under the Stairs
Honey, have you met our neighbour?
What?
Our neighbour. The guy across from us in the adjoining apartment. Have you met him?
Ah…no, I don’t think so. Why?
Oh, nothing. I was just thinking today about how strange it is that we’ve been in our new place for three months now, and the both of us have yet to lay a single eye on him. Don’t you think that’s a tad odd?
No, not really. Maybe this guy likes keeping to himself. He could work awkward hours or something.
Yeah, I guess. But you would think we would have seen him coming or going at some point. His door closing here or there.
Baby, you are being weird. Who cares? Look, I am completely cool with not getting to know our neighbours. I hate those annoying stop and talks. Besides, shit’s tangly when people get too all up in your business. That’s the whole reason we moved. We hate people remember.
All I am saying is that I find it odd. I haven’t seen him in the laundry room, I am there pretty much every day. Both of us check the communal mailboxes, no sign of him there either and his mailbox is right next to ours. Plus, it is not only his door, but I also never hear anything coming from his apartment. Nothing. It is always so quiet over there. And, I am not weird. There was no need to call me that. You are being mean.
Fiction From A Photo – She Has No Past, You Have No Future # 2
A Catcher-upper – We find Alex standing over his best friend who he discovered once he realized during their foot race, had disappeared. He strolls back to check to see what happened. Here’s a link to the first post in this story series for continuity. Hope you enjoy!
SHE HAS NO PAST, YOU HAVE NO FUTURE # 2
By: Ash Douglas
Alex began to walk slowly back in the direction he had just come from. As he did, he searched ahead scanning the area for his buddy who he could have swore was right behind him. He knew Marcus couldn’t have been playing around with him, he loved racing too much for that. He was extremely competitive and rarely loss at anything. It didn’t matter what they both faced off against. Still scouting for his friend, Alex passed the halfway rock, and as he did, he caught sight of what looked like Marcus’s foot poking out from a bunch of bushes. It seemed his friend might have actually bit the dirt. Had to be something like that. Whatever the reason, Alex was definitely going to have the last laugh now. Except, it was not going to be because he had finally won the race. There was that, but, there was also the fact that Marcus had to come all the way back to help his sorry ass. That’s another victory all of its own. There was a good chance he was hiding in those bushes up there trying to come up with an injury to fake in order to get the race declared a no contest. Realizing as much, Alex picked up his pace. He was not going to waste another second; he could not delay rubbing it in. Only, as he drew closer, he started to notice something didn’t look quite right. Marcus would have definitely begun with the excuses already. He would have sensed Alex by now. Crying “Do over”, or “Help, I tripped”, or his famous “I let you win that one”. Nothing. Instead, when Alex finally made it to his best friend, he was laying in the bushes faceup. He was barely moving. There was zero expression on his face. None at all. No look of pain, no look of shame, no crying, no laughter, no embarrassed excuse face. Nothing. He was completely blank. His eyes blackened, and his chest was moving up and down rapidly. He was taking in large deep breaths. One at a time, and releasing the air as if he were shushing someone for five seconds at a time.
To be continued…
Fiction From A Photo – She Has No Past, You Have No Future # 1
Hey everybody,
I’m going to get straight to it. This category is something I have been playing around with for a while now. The premise is I will take a photo I’ve found somewhere and draw whatever inspiration I can from it and write a short, maybe long story from it. Plus, I would like to offer the same opportunity to anyone who wants to follow my lead and use both the photo and/or story title as a prompt. I would love to see examples of other forms of inspiration. It doesn’t have to be a story either. It could be anything from a story, a poem, a song, anything your heart desires.
OK, here’s the beginning of this one for me. I have a few chapters done of this prompt, only I was too excited and reacted. I went with the moment and posted. #amwriting
Don’t forget to tell me what you think in the comments, and let’s see where this goes.
Enjoy!!!
SHE HAS NO PAST, YOU HAVE NO FUTURE # 1
By: Ash Douglas
Marcus, get up! Come on. It’s not funny.
We have to go.
Do you realize I needed to be home fifteen minutes ago? Not cool.
You know, I’m going to be in deep shit again.
My Uncle is going to kill me for sure this time.
Marcus?
Story Jots # 1 – Soon…
In the bowels of those human cages, he promised soon he would have his revenge. A promise that has kept him alive all this time. A promise he made ten years ago to his fiance on that dark and rainy night when her life was taken from him. By his hand.
Am I Write? # 8 – Don’t Be A Stranger
Don’t run away from your gift of telling a story, your story. The further from writing you stray, the farther from home it will feel. – Ash
The Black Journal – (Take-Away)
If not up to date, please visit The Red/Black Journal Page
Friday, 9:45 P.M.
Ethan’s driver-side door crunched and creaked as it slammed shut. He was home. Another long day of chasing a killer without so much as a single clue of who it might be. Zero answers, just more questions. Questions, that for now had to wait. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to see his beautiful wife, Susan. Take one look at her and no matter how bad of a day he was having, she’d quickly make all go away. A hot shower and some food wouldn’t go astray either.
Continue reading “The Black Journal – (Take-Away)”
Earth To Ash 