/lit/ - Literature

Oh man this board is slow. Well, I'll be back later.

Thanks, dudes.

Currently, yes.

> mfw I picked the only good username in my choices to be WillowPumpkin
> mfw my brother gets "Castleflight"

>>1922658

> her books
> socialists

http://vocaroo.com/?media=v9YO0pCdAkjEwkKMY

sure, what the hell

Jump alive! to buzz your shock
shhhh- rip away at me, along with what I've done
with your queer little crumbles and crunches

Oh my, leaking torn blood into my rotting heap
sheds of fleshy tattoo who slept on my shoulders
crushing my outs, malformed ins!

Lovely employee blues and blands
bustling rings, in a stop-motion commotion
versing thumps and bumps

Dying vein spasm, burning
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrred
like a oafish, churning whore

measuring vomit
into coarse bags
for the graveyard

"Go ahead and sit down...and, um, we will begin this little...thing. Well, alright, so firstly, how has your day been, David?"

"Fine, sure, but uh...just so you know cause I feel like...you'd want to, heh,...the...papers that I was supposed to do, that I was doing, um, they've proven a pretty serious hassle for th- my department. We think that we might need some extra hands."

"Okay, you know I want to help your group out, David, don't tell me you think I don't. There's an...issue at hand, David, and honestly, I'm not sure what you or your group or anyone above us is doing to...you know, help! So if we could just go on with these questions-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine sure. I'll just...we could mention a plan or something to Margret cause she's...I don't know, raw? Acting raw with me."

"Uh alright...so...hold on, just lost my place here, oh here we are- so...um, if possible...okay?...could you or would you remove an employee...of yours? And then just mention a reason why."

"To be sure, this is confide-"

"Secure, yeah yeah, no no, don't be...afraid to perk up at any potential slackers or anything like that, I'm just hear to listen. My job you know? Haha.

"Ha ha, yeah uh well...on the spot...to be honest, I'm afraid it'll be bias now you know?"

"Bias? Well...in wh-"

"Right now, Margret is really...chiding me, right? I'd consider her but you got to remember those other times where you think are you're like "oh yeah, she's working well, but what about him? Eh?" you know?...and right now...I just..."

"So...okay, so Margret, was it? Yeah, so she is...chiding you? Go a little bit into that David...need some reason."

"No, no! Margret...isn't my choice. Hold on, hold on - remember I'm a bit on the spot here and I'm just...I've got to remember!"

We rose somberly as they announced his arrival into the Atticka Bay. His body carrier, a brute of an airplane, held steady on its down-running descent just behind the tin-can bay hangers stationed on a brisk walk of a reach from the grave-site. Far enough to see the angels gliding down with your boys, but not to hear them; they are always gone before you got to hear those holy engines roar.

My son, all black 'side his "most favorite" yellow bow-tie, trotted quickly to keep a foot rhythm alongside his daily new interest, our solemn pastor. A trembling clarity, my son spoke in no fortified hesitation on the subject of his uncle, a person whom he never really had the chance to see face to face - the idea itself of his great joy towards meeting his uncle, even without that irritatingly collected voice of his to greet my boy at the coffin, proved a seriously volatile twirl in the memory of my brother.

"Momma, are you alright?"

Our mother generally despised a good amount of people, despite being the emotionally charged woman she was raising us. The funeral director eyed her suspiciously on the first time I had arranged a meeting between the two, taking her for a mischievous woman even in the face of death. Even though nobody ever really mentioned her attitude anymore, I felt a need to still defend it in my head.

I was considering a novel where a pastor marries off one of his daughters, but I kind of wanted to do it backwards. Like, start off with his death because of past events, then go to the event which lead to the first chapter, and afterwards lay down the history to end it.

The first part would be mostly like...

An aging Christian pastor constantly drinks himself into stupors due to immense loneliness and not a single child to his name; his only goal is to kill himself faster with booze really. Goes out to drive one night and drink at a bar, gets in a fight with a fellow community pastor disgusted by his actions, and then drives him drunk. Returns home, notices a light down a forest covered hill near his nowhere home, decides to investigate. The light is a streetlamp, he thought it was a message from God to finally let him die, so he gets pissed. Stumbles away from light into cold, trips while walking all pissed and hurts himself, can't get up. Still isn't dead, renounces God and then notices the street-light flicker till it dies. Sits in darkness crying and calling out for his daughters (two deceased, one imprisoned) and then dies slowly.

Still working on the other parts though.

I felt out of place in my AP class when I used Sound and the Fury, seeing as nobody really took kindly to the book; it just seemed like an obvious choice when I immediately eyed the prompt.

Har har.