MURDER MYSTERY COMING SOON
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Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
An Alley of Morality
Scene: A dank alleyway with minimal lighting. Alley must appear dark and seedy.
It is early night time.
In the alley sits a piano side on to the wall, a man stands nearby aiming a torch at the pianist, on the side opposite the piano chair on the floor sits a homeless beggar.
The piano is of the best quality.
The Pianist is wearing a tuxedo but is barefoot.
The beggar is wearing everything he owns.
The Pianist walks up to the piano, sits down and begins to play. He plays instrumentals until quite a crowd has gathered.
Pianist: Thank you thank you very much, now for my last piece.
Enter rich pompous man. Rich man strolls up to piano near beggar.
Rich man is pretentiously; his manner shows his distain for the lower classes.
Enter violinist from the back of the crowd already playing violin. Violinist takes up position behind the pianist and continues to play.
Beggar: Hey buddy can ya spare some change?
Rich man: Get away from me.
Beggar moves closer to the Rich man.
Beggar: oh come on mate, you can spare it.
Rich man: Get away from me you pathetic excuse for a human.
Beggar: just a dollar, you can spare that.
Beggar grabs rich man by the leg in a begging position.
Rich man takes a little while to shake beggar off
Rich man kicks beggar to the floor.
Rich man repeatedly kick beggar until beggar stops moving.
Pianist looks toward the Rich man with concern and annoyance.
Torchbearer shifts torch light to the scuffle.
Pianist notices the crowds focus shift and plays the piano with more vigour.
Rich mans beating of the beggar runs in time to the music, getting more violent as the music gets louder.
Rich man spits on beggar and throws a dollar on his motionless body
Enter two police officers in uniform, a male and female.
Male officer: All right what’s going on here? Break up this crowd.
Female officer: Look (she approaches the beggar)
The beggar remains still.
Male officer: you are all witnesses, no body move. I’m calling this in.
Pianist finishes his piece
Rich man applauds and holds his hat out to the onlookers
Rich man: come on show your appreciation for the piano performance.
Pianist appears hesitant, looking to the other side of the piano.
Pianist: Er thank you
Beggar stands up, seemingly unharmed
Beggar: Yeah we hoped you enjoyed it
Beggar, Rich man, Police and Pianist all laugh and take a bow.
Male officer: All you onlookers, you played the part of observers tonight, in the future we hope you will do more, Charlie certainly does.
Beggar: Yes, yes it would be nice to not take another pounding.
All performers bow again.
It is early night time.
In the alley sits a piano side on to the wall, a man stands nearby aiming a torch at the pianist, on the side opposite the piano chair on the floor sits a homeless beggar.
The piano is of the best quality.
The Pianist is wearing a tuxedo but is barefoot.
The beggar is wearing everything he owns.
The Pianist walks up to the piano, sits down and begins to play. He plays instrumentals until quite a crowd has gathered.
Pianist: Thank you thank you very much, now for my last piece.
Enter rich pompous man. Rich man strolls up to piano near beggar.
Rich man is pretentiously; his manner shows his distain for the lower classes.
Enter violinist from the back of the crowd already playing violin. Violinist takes up position behind the pianist and continues to play.
Beggar: Hey buddy can ya spare some change?
Rich man: Get away from me.
Beggar moves closer to the Rich man.
Beggar: oh come on mate, you can spare it.
Rich man: Get away from me you pathetic excuse for a human.
Beggar: just a dollar, you can spare that.
Beggar grabs rich man by the leg in a begging position.
Rich man takes a little while to shake beggar off
Rich man kicks beggar to the floor.
Rich man repeatedly kick beggar until beggar stops moving.
Pianist looks toward the Rich man with concern and annoyance.
Torchbearer shifts torch light to the scuffle.
Pianist notices the crowds focus shift and plays the piano with more vigour.
Rich mans beating of the beggar runs in time to the music, getting more violent as the music gets louder.
Rich man spits on beggar and throws a dollar on his motionless body
Enter two police officers in uniform, a male and female.
Male officer: All right what’s going on here? Break up this crowd.
Female officer: Look (she approaches the beggar)
The beggar remains still.
Male officer: you are all witnesses, no body move. I’m calling this in.
Pianist finishes his piece
Rich man applauds and holds his hat out to the onlookers
Rich man: come on show your appreciation for the piano performance.
Pianist appears hesitant, looking to the other side of the piano.
Pianist: Er thank you
Beggar stands up, seemingly unharmed
Beggar: Yeah we hoped you enjoyed it
Beggar, Rich man, Police and Pianist all laugh and take a bow.
Male officer: All you onlookers, you played the part of observers tonight, in the future we hope you will do more, Charlie certainly does.
Beggar: Yes, yes it would be nice to not take another pounding.
All performers bow again.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The blue book on the shelf
Whenever I am depressed or blue I reach for my bookshelves. It's always the same book I pull down although it does seem to move around a lot on its own. It's not the bible or any great book on life, it's a simple blue book filled with story-type observations about life. I open it at any page and for some reason it always opens to the right page I need in any circumstance. How it does this I do not know, but I'm not complaining. When I have read the two or three page account my head becomes clearer and life seems to take shape once more. It's one of the few books I own that I remember the circumstance of the purchase of the book, and none save one that I remember the day so perfect. It was in December, years ago although I can't remember the year, it could even have been the first of December. It was raining; I think we even saw a bit of hail that day. I remember siting at the back door and writing about the storm. That was the day I bought the blue book. Why I went out in such weather to get a book that could easily have waited until the next day I can't quite remember, but I'm sure I had my reasons. Why I remember that day so well down to the weather and what I wrote, I have no idea. I don't think it was my intention to commit these things to memory, what purpose could it ever have? But tucked away in the back of my mind I have the history of this book in my head and although there is no longer a price tag on it I think it cost me around $19.95. This simple over looked blue book; you could probably pick it up for $2 now. I doubt even the author knows its true value. In the words of Bennet and Royal, 'the author is dead,'1 so let the novel speak for itself. This book speaks volumes to me, but were you to ask me what it was about, I’d remain silent. It is about everything and nothing, it says so much but tells no story. What makes it so great to me? It’s mine and it helps me to fly.
1. Not literally in this case, to the best of my knowledge anyway.
1. Not literally in this case, to the best of my knowledge anyway.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Why so long??
I've not been on in a while. The truth of the matter being I couldn't be bothered joining the googe upgrade. I was quite content with the old version, but I have the urge to write once more and this is my only outlet at presnet.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
untitled
There is a man who lives in a house
Still in his parents care
From all the world he has gathered
A trove of tresures rare
He does not play the records
He does not race the cars
He does not lick the stamps
He prefers things as they are
In this room he sits and waits
A tiger in its lair
And god have mercy on any soul
Who dares to enter there
He sits alone and does not move
The possessions in his care
To all of those who touch his treasures
I say to you Beware
The records dont leave the plastic
He claims theyre never played
The cars dont leave the box
The stamps have never strayed
He will never touch them
His love is way to dear
But noone else shall either
No one can get near
He will die one day
His fortune still untouched
His precious prizes sold
For mere chimp-change and such
I wonder what hed think
I wonder what hed say
He spent his whole life collecting
And now its all been thrown away
All his valued treasures
Gone without a fuss
And the irony of it is
He never touched them once
Still in his parents care
From all the world he has gathered
A trove of tresures rare
He does not play the records
He does not race the cars
He does not lick the stamps
He prefers things as they are
In this room he sits and waits
A tiger in its lair
And god have mercy on any soul
Who dares to enter there
He sits alone and does not move
The possessions in his care
To all of those who touch his treasures
I say to you Beware
The records dont leave the plastic
He claims theyre never played
The cars dont leave the box
The stamps have never strayed
He will never touch them
His love is way to dear
But noone else shall either
No one can get near
He will die one day
His fortune still untouched
His precious prizes sold
For mere chimp-change and such
I wonder what hed think
I wonder what hed say
He spent his whole life collecting
And now its all been thrown away
All his valued treasures
Gone without a fuss
And the irony of it is
He never touched them once
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Camp Fire Tales
These stories were written to tell round the camp fire. Horror tales were prefered, but I like to mix things up, either way, they were certainly enjoyed.
The Tale of the Tellers Stone
Once upon a time there lived a great and powerful story teller. He was known throughout the land. People would come from miles just to hear his stories. He was an old man with a long white beard and wherever he wandered he carried a big round stone with him. He would sit on the stone and tell his stories and regardless of the laws of each town he went to, he would go unabaited.
People began to follow him in his travels. He was a quiet man who kept mostly to himself when he wasnt telling stories. The followers began to talk amongst themselves about the purpose of the stone. Was it some powerful mystery only the teller knew about? Was it the last trace of some attachment formed years ago? Was it just a stone? They asked to teller about it, but he refused to speak about it, except to say, 'I am bound to the stone, it is my curse.' Laus, the most arrogant of the group said to the others, 'Its got to be magical for him to keep it with him everywhere. Look how the villagers part on his approach and never question him. The elders tell their children to stay away from him.' The young followers muttered their agreements. 'I say he is a powerful sourceror and that stone is the key to his power.' The people cheered. Laus stood on a box above the people edging them closer to his view. 'That power can be ours, we can take it,' he cried out. A few of the followers abandoned him and wandered back home, the remaining ones were in Laus's power. They snuck into the village barn where the teller was sleeping. It was dark, but the stone was still visable in the moonlight.
It took four of them to carry it off, amazingly the old story teller didnt wake up. The followers wandered off into the moonlight of the cold night air. The teller awoke the next day to find the stone gone. He walked outside and looked around then after not seeing the stone he began to dance.
The men had carried the stone far from the tellers resting place. they stoped on a barren plain and put it down, it was then that the stone began to shake. A crack appeared on the stone, the people stepped back in fear as a bright light shone out of the stone. From the stone came forth a great monsterious beast. Fire spewed out from some of its many heads, from the others came lightning, electrocuting everything it touched. The followers screamed and ran, but the creatures arms extended accross deserts to hunt them down and cut them up. Some it devoured, some it fried, some it just took pleasure in pulling appart. Its red eyes widened with every kill, its toothy grins released blood stained drool from every mouth. When the creature had finished only one man remained. It was Laus, his hair had turned white from fear and he crouched a broken man. The creature rolled its stone over to him and whispered softly, 'You belong to me now, if you leave me I will find you and eat one of your limbs, this I will continue to do until you are nothing but a head, a living head, still able to witness my fury. You will carrry me as far as you can everyday, if you stop I will kill all but you. Now carry me.' The creature disapeared inside the stone and if it were not for the dismembered bodies scattered everywhere, you would not have believed it had happened.
On a different horizon an old man walked free, a smile on his face.
The Tale of the Island
A local holiday camp spot on the edge of a beach sat comfortably on the shore. Sarah and Eric had chosen this place for their holiday. The beach stretched for miles, and connected to the mainland by a series of rocks sat a desolate island. Sarah and Eric confined themselves to the beauty of the beach for the first day and Sarah was quite content with that, but Eric saw the island as a challenge that he must overcome. So the very next day he informed Sarah of his intention and set out to explore the island. When Eric hadn't returned by nightfall Sarah got worried and called the police. Upon questioning they asked if Sarah knew where he had gone, she answered, 'the island.' the cops looked at each other with a confused expression, 'What Islad?' they both asked. 'The one right over there,' she said and turned to look at the island, but there was nothing there save a pile of rocks being bashed about by the waves.
She wondered if she'd imagined it, could it be possible, and more importantly, where was Eric?
The Tale of the Fishermans Apprentice
The town of Grover was a fishing town, the docks were lined with trawlers and skips. Just north of the town were the scattered houses of the village Tolwin barely surviving the fishing by forcing their row boats out over the breakers to the big blue.
Merid waited on the shore for his useless apprentice to show up for work. Tak was arrogant for his age and for his abilities. He arrived smiling, Merid said nothing, he was too old to bother enforcing decency in the youth. He waited for Tak to take the left oarsmans seat then he pushed to boat out and jumped on before the sea soaked him through. They cleared the waves and rowed out till the land was nothing more than a speck on the horizon. It was there that they dropped anchor and lowered their lines. It was a lond day and they had caught nothing. They hadn't caught anything for weeks. Tak proached the subject of finding a better job, Merid had expected it, as much as he hated Tak, it would be hard to find a new apprentice. It was at that point that Tak's line started to jump. When the fish had been caught it barely fit in the boat. Tak was already bragging and boasting about the catch, Merid ignored the spoilt brat. It was then that Tak sad, 'you've been holding me back old man. I'd rule these seas if I wasnt stuck here with you.' The old man's blood began to boil, his eyes turned bloodshot red and he siezed the boy and pushed him into the sea. 'You wont be stuck with me now boy,' he shouted, but Tak couldn't hear him, he was struggling to get his head above water, but the old mans hold on him was too strong. Merid held him under until he stoped moving, then he let go and watched the boy slowely disappear into the vast depths of the deep blue sea. Merid looked at the fish, it was his now. Wouldn't the villagers be impressed with his catch, he could say the boys death was an accident, that he tried to save him, but at his age he just wasnt fast enough. He turned to stare at the speck of land that was his home. , he would go home early, too sadened by the loss of his apprentice to go on the whole day. He sat in the right oarsmans seat and reached for the oars, but he just couldnt reach them both. He looked at the empty oarsmans seat, Taks seat. Without Tak he would never see his home again, in murdering Tak, he had killed himself.
The Tale of the Tellers Stone
Once upon a time there lived a great and powerful story teller. He was known throughout the land. People would come from miles just to hear his stories. He was an old man with a long white beard and wherever he wandered he carried a big round stone with him. He would sit on the stone and tell his stories and regardless of the laws of each town he went to, he would go unabaited.
People began to follow him in his travels. He was a quiet man who kept mostly to himself when he wasnt telling stories. The followers began to talk amongst themselves about the purpose of the stone. Was it some powerful mystery only the teller knew about? Was it the last trace of some attachment formed years ago? Was it just a stone? They asked to teller about it, but he refused to speak about it, except to say, 'I am bound to the stone, it is my curse.' Laus, the most arrogant of the group said to the others, 'Its got to be magical for him to keep it with him everywhere. Look how the villagers part on his approach and never question him. The elders tell their children to stay away from him.' The young followers muttered their agreements. 'I say he is a powerful sourceror and that stone is the key to his power.' The people cheered. Laus stood on a box above the people edging them closer to his view. 'That power can be ours, we can take it,' he cried out. A few of the followers abandoned him and wandered back home, the remaining ones were in Laus's power. They snuck into the village barn where the teller was sleeping. It was dark, but the stone was still visable in the moonlight.
It took four of them to carry it off, amazingly the old story teller didnt wake up. The followers wandered off into the moonlight of the cold night air. The teller awoke the next day to find the stone gone. He walked outside and looked around then after not seeing the stone he began to dance.
The men had carried the stone far from the tellers resting place. they stoped on a barren plain and put it down, it was then that the stone began to shake. A crack appeared on the stone, the people stepped back in fear as a bright light shone out of the stone. From the stone came forth a great monsterious beast. Fire spewed out from some of its many heads, from the others came lightning, electrocuting everything it touched. The followers screamed and ran, but the creatures arms extended accross deserts to hunt them down and cut them up. Some it devoured, some it fried, some it just took pleasure in pulling appart. Its red eyes widened with every kill, its toothy grins released blood stained drool from every mouth. When the creature had finished only one man remained. It was Laus, his hair had turned white from fear and he crouched a broken man. The creature rolled its stone over to him and whispered softly, 'You belong to me now, if you leave me I will find you and eat one of your limbs, this I will continue to do until you are nothing but a head, a living head, still able to witness my fury. You will carrry me as far as you can everyday, if you stop I will kill all but you. Now carry me.' The creature disapeared inside the stone and if it were not for the dismembered bodies scattered everywhere, you would not have believed it had happened.
On a different horizon an old man walked free, a smile on his face.
The Tale of the Island
A local holiday camp spot on the edge of a beach sat comfortably on the shore. Sarah and Eric had chosen this place for their holiday. The beach stretched for miles, and connected to the mainland by a series of rocks sat a desolate island. Sarah and Eric confined themselves to the beauty of the beach for the first day and Sarah was quite content with that, but Eric saw the island as a challenge that he must overcome. So the very next day he informed Sarah of his intention and set out to explore the island. When Eric hadn't returned by nightfall Sarah got worried and called the police. Upon questioning they asked if Sarah knew where he had gone, she answered, 'the island.' the cops looked at each other with a confused expression, 'What Islad?' they both asked. 'The one right over there,' she said and turned to look at the island, but there was nothing there save a pile of rocks being bashed about by the waves.
She wondered if she'd imagined it, could it be possible, and more importantly, where was Eric?
The Tale of the Fishermans Apprentice
The town of Grover was a fishing town, the docks were lined with trawlers and skips. Just north of the town were the scattered houses of the village Tolwin barely surviving the fishing by forcing their row boats out over the breakers to the big blue.
Merid waited on the shore for his useless apprentice to show up for work. Tak was arrogant for his age and for his abilities. He arrived smiling, Merid said nothing, he was too old to bother enforcing decency in the youth. He waited for Tak to take the left oarsmans seat then he pushed to boat out and jumped on before the sea soaked him through. They cleared the waves and rowed out till the land was nothing more than a speck on the horizon. It was there that they dropped anchor and lowered their lines. It was a lond day and they had caught nothing. They hadn't caught anything for weeks. Tak proached the subject of finding a better job, Merid had expected it, as much as he hated Tak, it would be hard to find a new apprentice. It was at that point that Tak's line started to jump. When the fish had been caught it barely fit in the boat. Tak was already bragging and boasting about the catch, Merid ignored the spoilt brat. It was then that Tak sad, 'you've been holding me back old man. I'd rule these seas if I wasnt stuck here with you.' The old man's blood began to boil, his eyes turned bloodshot red and he siezed the boy and pushed him into the sea. 'You wont be stuck with me now boy,' he shouted, but Tak couldn't hear him, he was struggling to get his head above water, but the old mans hold on him was too strong. Merid held him under until he stoped moving, then he let go and watched the boy slowely disappear into the vast depths of the deep blue sea. Merid looked at the fish, it was his now. Wouldn't the villagers be impressed with his catch, he could say the boys death was an accident, that he tried to save him, but at his age he just wasnt fast enough. He turned to stare at the speck of land that was his home. , he would go home early, too sadened by the loss of his apprentice to go on the whole day. He sat in the right oarsmans seat and reached for the oars, but he just couldnt reach them both. He looked at the empty oarsmans seat, Taks seat. Without Tak he would never see his home again, in murdering Tak, he had killed himself.
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