Dream Writing

Your senses begin on a farm. You are friends with the Armstrongs, Louis and Neil. The more they talk, the more your hair grows. You feel sluggish and confused. You are sweeping computer code into a hole that was used as someone’s eyes. There is an assumption that has been spirited away. You wipe down the water with your hands the same way. There is a stack of parts for night sleep. There is the wind equipment. There is an almost silence that can never be allowed. All the things before beginning are requested. There is a means that solves away. You spark your grounded. There is a waver you hold until you find the spot. Your stares hold you in the search. The flies shift and you understand the before.

Free Association (in Strict Mode)

Orange orange. Orange orange orange orange, orange orange orange orange orange orange. Orange, orange orange orange orange orange orange, orange orange orange orange.

Orange orange. Orange orange? Orange orange orange orange, orange orange. Orange orange orange orange, orange orange. Orange orange orange orange orange orange. Orange.

Orange? Orange orange. Orange orange, orange orange, orange orange – orange orange. Orange orange orange, orange orange orange.

Orange orange. Orange orange – orange orange, orange orange – orange orange.

Orange orange.

Orange orange.

Orange orange.

I’d really like to expand this into a 600-page novel.

Notes on Water Slide Flume

Water Slide Flume means a recreational device that provides a descending ride into multiple suction outlets which can be isolated by valves, hydrotherapy or automatic cleaning outlets which are missing.

A current Red Cross Lifeguard or Royal-Bronze institutional multiple-story Interior custom-folding folding door must be used to close virtually any opening.

No person shall purpose or expand otherwise (2) An accurate unbreakable thermometer (± 1°F) provided At all times when placed at the deepest point to be clearly visible from the sidewalks maintained by a continuous recirculation of minimum turnover rates once every eight hours.

At no time shall thermostatic control be determined applicable by law and/or regulation pertaining to Clarity maintained by a continuous recirculation through an appropriate standard flume terminus at least eight feet within the distance between sides of adjacent flume terminuses.

Surface operating water may have a constant slope upward or a surge which will contain the water used for pumping water.

The board for bathers in cases of swimming shall be reserved around the non-swimmer designated as “the non-swimmer.”

Areas of earth resulting from the backwash filter must be discharged through a conspicuous communication device or station.

The location of the emergency must be in working order and available.

State police must be in an area that is unlocked no less in length than 1½ times the width of the local fire department, which must provide one triangular bandage; one scissors; one tweezers; one rescue blanket; 12 antiseptic wipes; two disposable instant ice packs.

The local police shall provide state police 35 1″ bandaids; ten 3″ x 3″sterile gauze pads; two 5″ x 5″ surgipads; one 8″ x 10″ surgipad; and two 2″ soft roller bandages.

The U.S. Coast Guard shall provide a one-way valve to anyone who asks (subject to availability).

All lifeguards shall direct their attention to a red or bright orange bathing suit or other shirt or jacket worn as an appropriate voice amplification device.

25 bathers shall be deemed equivalent to a lifeguard.

A red cross or a rescue hook shall be worn by all lifeguards who shall be Boy Scouts or an equivalent.

There shall also be one Tube located at each outdoor blackboard attended by in ground straps equipped with 2000 square feet of polyethelene body lotion.

Special purpose oils shall provide a permanently mounted clock with a large dial located by Elderly persons, pregnant women, and persons suffering from heart disease.

No suffering of any kind is allowed unless from a communicable disease whose symptoms include fever, nasal cough, inflammation of ear discharges, or any non-communicable shatterproof light shield.

Special Permission means the appropriate and legally designated, legally constituted usual powers and duties transmitted through the medium of water.

Any person who means alone or jointly or severally with others public or semi-public purpose means every firm association, including group, to which may be gained by the individual personal guests of a hotel, motel, trailer court, apartment house, condominium, country club, youth club, school, camp, or similar establishment where cold water tanks are maintained and meant for use as therapeutic bubbles or any combination thereof of Industry terminology used or under the direct supervision and control of licensed medical personnel.

Appurtenances mean and include every artificial depth or bathhouse equipment used primarily for baptismal purposes or the healing arts.

No person shall construct or install a Registered Architect or otherwise make any change which may affect the Registered Architect unless approved in writing by Registered Architect.

All work shall/may affect the capacity in writing before the work affected by the change remodeled so that a date can be arranged for impervious materials and light colors maintained throughout a minimum route.

It is recommended that water be provided to sick or injured bathers approved by the Board of Health.

For males in a sanitary condition One additional water hall shall be separated for up to one third of the number required.

When provided with a hazard underwater, Attention should be given to adequate animal enclosures with latches.

These latches shall be self-latching and the enclosures should be given acoustical properties enclosed by a barrier which shall extend not less than four feet above the reverberation of sound.

Suitable receptacles shall be Common towels, Soap dispensers, sanitary drainage mirrors or unbreakable Construction , except ladders and rounded projection considered a projection projecting not more than two projections.

The finish of the recessed stairway shall be a stair moderately smooth and free from a registered professional engineer responsible for certifying lint strainers, chemical fill-spout bactericidal treatment meters and effluent hair.

The maximum one pound of chlorine shall be one pound of chlorine.

Where hair catchers shall be identified and easily accessible, Cylinders shall be inaccessible as a disinfectant to the general public at the exterior of occupied structures.

The Louvre shall be provided near the ceiling.

Cold with Leaving: Chapter 3 – Weary of the Smaller as a Pair

Next to a cigarette, married to a nightingale, the smooth repeats no evidence straight footprints throughout the skinny burning the desk with anger.

I was looking for the details in a patch of straw in the lines of trees, everything turning into handles I wasn’t expecting. Anything.

I stared into space and there he was – the General with total conviction

“Of course, I’d like to extend you every assistance possible,” he said.

“A gold credit card?”

“I was thinking more like a your eyes in jar of preserves then maybe even buy you dinner.”

Is there a recollection here? This is something like a big deal isn’t it?

You’re fluffy white, the main room made perfect written in the curves of the names like Miranda was trembling how had it been sitting in a chair all day something stable and strong something that would not fold under the circumstances of a confession.

Repeated questionings rubbing cheeks raw and yet not singing.

I felt a stack of counterfeit dollar bills, ripples close to my ear.

“You have to speak up.”

“You don’t know what it’s like stepping in front of cheetah and knowing you could outrun him.“

“In layman’s terms.”

“My friend has this frowning tree. He’s working on something a curator of restraint would realize, what fell away with the holograms, when his body, when…”

A voice began to speak on the whole injustices so soon after landing an ability to proceed with your first encounter – an aristocratic clearing of the throat, a description against a sudden jungle.

“Who’s really looking at your notes? Checking them? Seeing one idea after another listed? Decided? To discover then,” said cheerfully. “In those days the nomads were wheelchair-bound, yet disembodied. Always stealing away to stare at the trophy case are you?”

I traveled around listening to the sound of a voice believed to belong to the bullet, wild into the back of his neck.

“…a confectioner in the storeroom wouldn’t you say?”

“I see you’ve checked your descriptions.”

As you can imagine, I felt.

“Sheer exuberance is short-lived. You have something of value you’re seeking. The tiny images of lines and curves perhaps I couldn’t surely remember.”

“Nothing was located.”

“In a rumpled dress?”

“In black and white,” I said. “You and your friends pulled the wishbone already.”

“Yes. We were embarrassed, but we could not welcome news of a garland. The fury had died down to a fair-minded condemnation, failing with the efforts of deterioration.”

I took the lows and for. The black night news in a low voice dies.

“You need a bit of coaxing, stubble in the snow-use, all the scratches thrust as ons and unders among them. Proceeded, too quickly, you know – when you lift a gem from the box you’re doing the box all wrong.”

I hung by a silver thread in a luxuriant blue clothing warehouse. It was a struggle within ice that can be unpredictable. Yes, the lines can crack like a street without a picture taking away now that everyone’s rising. The statement took only a moment to strike.

He held a pillow to my entrances. Turned himself with calm.

“Your wool suit stood out,” he said smiling benignly. “The usual precautions had to be considered. You must answer me now. Feel free to concentrate on your answer. You think this feels like deprivation. A shift in the conversation shouldn’t take the notes personally.”

I saw blur and this time the phone didn’t ring. There was a window.

I used to tear up until I stretched up in the grade group grew weary of the smaller as a pair the charms clicked off.

“Sorry but I have to meet the Frenchman. Cars are matters of degrees, dignity in Vegas, the Palms in the 20 dreams then may be another valet.”

The cabin had been slept in bitter stables. Working. All around, this is a heart stopping. A Rose going to goodbye. It was some relief, some place I nodded. Yet was this another skirmish. Was his business really that family-figured? The former with his mouth shut.

Self-preservation parked.

“Will I be sunk to the floor? Should I be exhausted?”

“Well, you’re be doing most of the work.”

“I need to understand why.”

“That’s okay. I worked for a bank once. I never really knew why/”

“I’ve been to Venezuela.“

“Maybe we should start from the beginning. Have you ever inspected a bar of gold through the eyes of a monkey?”

“And what the hell does that mean? If I should fail to return some scribbled notes another will be here.”

“You’re just a crazy ex-con a little too far East round the room.”

“And to think I knew you to you heart’s tenderness.”

In my voice punctuation marks. Save one more damn word or a dog’s name.

“Rate crime – punishable by death.”

A moment of gales and trying to imagine a sedan. Between him was all-back working on a difficult problem, to explain the memories of Jules, pressing to return, good business smarter.

She? Then retrieved? Her exact words from, a limb on the mantle.

“You might try to work harder Kiesel.”

Something in the old guitar player crossing the room. She and others, a sudden fairway warm and exquisite and utterly private.

“We’re not the polices. No, we’re not gods like that.”

I was just the fire in the chair the fresh coal to the faintly going right half-light the storm dismissed a hard E. Wing Way out on the limb. Too were much more than I could give and the other reasons arteries and veins keys rubber blades particles of tabby stripes destiny gunpowder is a lucky chance is and never counted on.

“Untie him.”

I gave her a note unsuitable for anyone else.

“So much for being clean.”

Miles up to the highway we were out of sight we were a stream heading North.

“Got any clues?”

Your small exam, carefully, anonymously appeared, once. Yes I wanted it, what too is the ticket. You take a little counter, their ballot, a hundred others like it. Yes, your plane is a Buick, a place to hide abominations at the first anguish. After, would she bring the landmarks Party and Unreasonable This Is and Central No. Of her leaves out of the Emperor.

“I will miss your face trust me, Stoecker”

Windows rumbling through voracious gates.

“Your brother’s never going to recover in the circumstances, in a close touch. Whose nature did you inherit? We’re not to get to any conclusions,” she said.

Drift across the table. I could’ve heard a band a classic trio with all keys. No clean compassions scarcely on the side seemed she would say. Kind of a new sense.

“Anything to do with what happened?”

“With a flat square a circle? The old man himself?”

“If you can call it that.”

“We’re in the same time zone – about 10 o’clock. Go on. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks. Now will you give me a gun.”

“Do I look like nothing but curves and shadows, something with no need for preliminaries, a jittery jog and a dozen mugs gathering the round empty seat.”

“Spell it still in seizures a few inches wide.”

The blank asleep, a shaved frame, a hand weakness, a cradle for a distant church bell.

“Oh, I want you to be the cold marble floor, high-necked.”

“I know.”

“Exactly who was the con, the alcove near expecting.”

“Fireworks to be. A simple matter, a beautiful apology, negligently falling down the rotunda like a utility van. Now you sleep.”

And I might have.

Cold With Leaving is a hastily-written, experimental, part-surrealist, part-neo-dadaist detective/thriller genre novel in progress that I revisit from time to time.

Previous chapters are here:

Chapter 1 – “May I Have a Deeper Chill?” Wondered the Pretty Blank Quietly

Chapter 2 – Leaning Noon, Against the Night

Cold with Leaving (a hastily-written, experimental, surrealist detective/thriller genre novel in progress) Chapter 2: Leaning Noon, Against the Night

I decided to check my mail. Bill. Bill. Solicitation. Bill. Bill. Solicitation. Unknown. Unknown. Bill. Newspaper Bill. Transcript. I opened the transcript. I read the part that interested me.

Williams: We were living off of a skilled local consultant sensing the urgency of the situation. The group-sprinting, a marathon phone line, its is a simple profile, bouquet and flavors.

Agent State: The Big Mac?

Williams 2: The Big Mac is a nonevent.

Agent Slate: D-brief?

Williams 3: The D-brief went like this.

At the same time screen
incremental in the shirts only.
Fever grips London. This time
it’s personal. Attending to ground-
water excuse to be a rested parade
in a booth suggesting a wealth
of rain with bright drops a bed
and a board and bars of light to
shotguns on the shoulder down
the curve where half was good
enough to separate you compromise
but all have none of it.

I figured. I figured a bag with a white panel for the struggle.

I stayed in the Army. There was a certain poetry to it. A left at midnight is pretty much the same as a right at noon only it’s against the night. And yet I would’ve died a broken fat boy in a high-necked dress.

The last thing I remember was seeing something about the rubble, a telescope orbiting over a future acquaintance, some light rejoinder entirely under control, lacing the Bentley and getting the heck out of there going west for an hour before I even woke up my head on her shoulder.

“Not just because the striders, stragglers name themselves after their own talking…”

“I forgot how to act kissed,” I said, the jacket from which all switch blades come over my legs, a crisp white enamel.

The outfit had a translucent roof you could smack a high-five through with precision with knowledge enforced by good schooling perhaps hoping confusion is more easily swayed.

“Finland was out of the question.”

A link into neutral, a cup of spokes with a lively sense of forbearance and mahogany sideboards. The kind of woman I wanted was roaring in my ears like a truck shamelessly out-of-control, a runaway without tires down an asphalt slide of a mountain.

That her. Off. Else.

“Where you came by car, know I came by fire truck.”

“Yeah, well I came by firehouse.”

You would’ve thought I didn’t know the system, that I had been too overwhelmed with all the compensated disarming that passed. Near the airport on that part of town they recognize the look of a smile of satisfaction. They said, “You handsome devil. You. Yes, you with the bolt cutter and the distorted door. You walk up and down don’t you?”

You? You or your Druid? A tool or a prosaic Plantagenet?

Him from behind the tree-drifting trails – and it certainly seemed like Lordship. In the fighter, the copilot nodding slowly then dropping and I had to turn my eyes back to the sky, a wall that could be the ground, the bench inside a haunted somewhere.

“When might I see tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t that make a day spent up and toward trouble not at all through the gap between there. Wouldn’t it?”

“There is stuff to hide.”

In long silence after all the lurch of the Arcaro, a heavy glass procession, some light for places, eight the first two in the four.

“Court the ban on the northbound side Bartholomew.”

“You’re almost a scream, as if you’re deep red eyes even meant anything.”

Slanting elsewhere, headed without a word, a non-brother jet and help unscrewing minutes in the form of road.

I was cleaning up the concrete. I had whispered a refrain 11 vibrations of a fatalistic molding, the air on the more foreword adjoining

“I trusted you with portions that were – “

“Huge and delicious? Like ‘to button things’ in Latin? Did you know the logical moonlight enough to pick out the commonly crashed?”

I nodded. I summarized the foreign holdings. I ran a long finger down all the interstates and then went another dozen paces all the way to the end of the room where the lessons had sometimes been squeezed and wrenched and held underwater with 20 miles still to go – some control worked in the clicks

“It’s an all-board box 2 inches deep brilliant like this printed circle across the top.”

I nodded again careful not to mirror thanks, but trying the door open with my back.

“You choose a cylindrical part. They will be in doubt,” she said, then turned to face the turned-off and set-it on South.

There were almost parking lots.

“I wanted to build a second story to your Bentley so there is – “

“You’re going to get out here.”

The slim, the slim promise of her eyes along the arm isn’t all just about rasps and attention and less mass.

“You get copies of the sketch. Tend. Fine phrases, ‘Once like Brandy,” a big envelope you can put your waste into. It might get a little too suggestive, so you got to be aside underneath.”

Dipping in silence.

“Yes, be the shadowed desk, a paper from a Rosewood mouth.”

“We want to know who may have been the body, the first ring or Paulist, a whole lot of images and timbre and stepping out getting off the line.”

I would reach wheat, a little back clear into what as soon as I know.

“Give us some smiles, please,” I said hungrily, not inside green.

Now it was me against him, his arm around my neck.

“Your brother was the special stiff. He gets printing we get here-time, chasing you all day.”

I sat only to be replaced by a different old, by the expert reception.

“Like I think in counterfeit defense, touch down with the same torch.”

“I heard the way out waiting for you. The rest is now together. They, you figure a way maybe.”

“Maybe you thought you could just start brushing bees and your mother would feed me antlers missing the intelligent face and claim ‘it’s a hell of a thing to choke down, poor boy, poor boy’.”

“I’m not a can it tell you of course. You? I can assure you day by day.”

“You’re going to get out here.”

“So an amateur garden is it today? Your whole life or are we talking about the future?”

“You’re going to get out here.”

Who knows about remembering why? Who dashed the bench through the window? It had an edge to it written on his face. Walked over. Inside the voice, the footprints in nursery. The are and why, seemingly duped.

“Washington, you’d search an omelet looking for the eggs – “

“No more!” she said. “For the last time. You’re going to get out here.”

“Quite definitely. Quite definitely.”

The three of us clucked. I got out.

I reminded myself of a few things my father taught me before his disappearance. I have been glowing embers. There are no serious manufacturers of carriages left. An enemy starship a galaxy away is less terrifying than a boat floating in your drink. Casper is friendly ghost is white, but real ghosts don’t need to travel to Anarctica to enjoy invisibility. Whatever tissue floats that you would take, don’t. Other things.

And yeah. This was the wrong brand of needed desperately.

Which is why I desperately needed it.

With the NanoWriMo deadline breathing down my neck…and the fact that this is an experimental, surrealist novel…I really can’t tell you where this is going…but I can tell you that the above is 1,230 words…which when added to the 534 words from Chapter 1…makes 1,764 words total…leaving me only 58,236 words away from my NanoWriMo goal of 60,000 words.

Cold with Leaving: Chapter 1 – “May I Have a Deeper Chill?” Wondered the Pretty Blank Quietly

Recognized in a view to amusement, leaving every known instance hefted, a nation clicks into a new pattern on a grand road of hair dropped to the ground, wriggling, and then scrambling to its feet.

“You have both detectives and nearly 1,000 other canopy beds,” I said. “What more can I ask?”

“I want your right turn? I want your grace in anger? I want a breath mint tasting like the flavor of the terrifying sight at the end of the trail?”

He laughed. She pasted a radioactive waste sticker across several books on the bookshelf.

“YOU six months on top of HIM and ME swimming in all so many cases of nylon!”

All in all it was one hell of a knife used sparsely in that part of town, the rest of a practice place, the big automatic birds captured in her mouth, in much the same way as her eyes, all looking at Miami.

At Miami and him.

Him, a habit of 18 who tells, unthinking of the boredom, intimidating veterans on the bus, with promises of food and drink.

“Is this a safe throat to put my words in?” he asked her.

His shoe landed on the script, followed by a single sock, and several cufflinks spat from a hidden mouth.

“Checked inside of intimacy –“

Now it was my turn.

“Yes. Checked inside of intimacy chilled hands too late to turn fatalistic. God knows.”

“God knows? God knows what, exactly? We got lawyers. We got cars. Expert tailors. Personality?”

I looked at her. So causality, casually teased.

“It’s like old guys and gravity isn’t it?”

I pasted myself to the wall in the form of a moth.

“Look at you. You there, acting playfully noble. You, the exquisite silken steamroller passing through a decoy made of metal murmurs where there was no telling, no tempting no terrifying – “

I cut her off right there.

“When the spirit trance is out of focus, somebody’s knocking –

She cut me off right back.

“Yes, yes, yes. Sure. When the spirit trance is out of focus, somebody’s knocking
themselves awake. It’s all the big chrome fretting or worrying!”

Was confidence, was confidence like that? Like stealing stones, carved calculation in chlorinated water, phrases you want me to heave to, having no required response, most of the people asked, some half-remembered this man scuffling sold and set off.

Either way. She had me there. Solitude. It was impossible to deny.

“I’m not asking permission to rearrange your kitchen in the form of a carefully manicured tight rope.“

“But you are! You are! Jacket folds across knees! Grand mal seizures! ‘It was all fortune!’ ‘It was all fortune!” ‘It was all fortune!’”

“Sure, more like some fingers reaching as high as ankle height.”

The elbow in the TV was still there in front of him, the French spy, a Tall Dark Man the Same Guy with Copper Pans Always Sitting Forward Claiming the Cold in Front of Empty Fireplaces was His and His Alone.

“How Long Have You Lived in It?”

“And how do you know where I lived in Florida?”

I guess you could say, not everyone gets thrown from the right horse.

Or not.

Chapter 1 (and possibly the final chapter) in an experimental surrealistic novel in progress for NanoWriMo. Considering that it’s 11/21 and that’s all I have so far – 531 words – I really have my work cut out for me.