The thin old man sat hunched over the small table, a lone candle barely pushing back the darkness. His sharp quill scratched deftly, scribbling with the fever of discovery, desperately jotting down the thoughts before they became lost like Atlantis.
He could not stop, could not pause, could not rest even for a moment. For he was recording a truth more rare and powerful than honesty, a truth not inherently fair nor noble nor decent, but true all the same.
The truest of all truths - the truth of Man - that truth that lies beneath all facade and pretense, barely glimpsed by even the sharpest senses. Yet always there, unwaveringly present and unfailingly real.
This, he knew, was the key to understanding everything! The world, the universe, even God himself! And it was finally within his grasp, finally recorded for all to know and share and learn!
It flooded from his hand and spilled onto the paper faster than he could even comprehend. His eyes blurred, his hand ached and his forearm throbbed. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he pushed onward. His pulse raced and the thumping in his chest grew.
He could not see the words but knew they were there, flowing true onto the pages. His chest pounded and his lungs gasped for air. But still he kept on writing, writing as the candle fluttered, writing as darkness slowly closed in around him.
They found him dead, slumped face-down and smiling on the table in a pile of red-smeared paper, his quill still gripped in his stiff hand, dripping red.
Hi Eric, it's why i write, for moments like that!
ReplyDeleteBut to die that way? And it makes me realize i am a mountainwomen first of all, because that's where i would like to make that step into the unknown.
Thank you
Beautiful poem
Wow Eric you outdid yourself. You are quite the story teller. This is poignant - it reminds me of what my grandfather would have done. There are some I believe who feel that urgency to get the words of wisdom to the next generation. I'm glad they were burdened.
ReplyDeleteI've enjoyed reading you this year - you are supportive of so many people.
Blessings to you this Christmas my friend - from the Moon
I have a favor can you email me moondustwriter@gmail.com
ReplyDeletehugs
You never cease to amaze me!
ReplyDeletedesperately jotting down the thoughts before they became lost like Atlantis...sounds familiar eric - excellent capture of the need to write and through it maybe find the answers and the key for the hidden corners of our soul..
ReplyDeleteThis is clever! I know that feeling of having to get it down on paper before the idea disappears - beautiful poem - love it :-)
ReplyDeleteIntense words and imagery- bravo!
ReplyDeleteGreat job of writing with a continuous compelling flow, one voice, strong and insistent to enforce your message before it too escapes like a dying breath. Liked it very much.
ReplyDeleteyou know...i think in the end if i go with my pen in my hand, the last word ont eh page..it might not be a bad thing...smiles....excellent write eric...
ReplyDeleteWow this one was so different and desperate..the fierceness and the desperation of his quill..
ReplyDeleteYou captured the desperation to write so very well. I've felt that way, too. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteThere you Go Eric! powerful as ever! EXCELLENT Flow and totally breath-taking!
ReplyDeleteBRAVO!
:)
WOW! Enthralling read. Way to go! Your writing that is. As a way to die, very lonely, and I think you may have touched on a fear many of us share. Hence, great irony in writing and truth telling.
ReplyDeleteGreat bit of flash fiction! Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteDitto comments of the other..loved the flow, the ache to get the words in the heat of inspiration, in one as if to breathe would interrupt the order, the meaning, the intensity. At the end the memory of The Red Shoes came to mind (for some reason) red shoes dancing the ballerina to her death. Maybe sometimes we should take off the point shoes :) Merry Christmas dear one. Thank you for your comments on my blog.
ReplyDeleteMr King,
ReplyDeleteThis note is to inform you we have received Your submission and that we'll be in touch.
Yours Truly,
.......
so intense and then the ending..woah!
ReplyDeleteIntense....carried me with a headlong rush to the finish.
ReplyDeleteI will remember this.
Lady Nyo
I will remember this...intense, intense, intense.
ReplyDeleteIt carried me from beginning to end without flagging.
Lady Nyo
THAT is a fine story.
ReplyDeleteEric some of the stuff that pops into your head is pretty amazing stuff....this is some powerful writing!...Love this one! :-)
ReplyDeleteOooh...I like this!
ReplyDeleteI don't generally write stories like this, but all the kind words might just change my mind.
ReplyDelete(I have an older piece that I never got around to finishing... maybe I'll blow the dust off it)
intense indeed...writing with his own soul and blood everything in him, his very life....great writing...bkm
ReplyDeleteTruly, this is one intriguing tale. It certainly does resonate with anyone who desires to write and be heard. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this...it held my attention all the way to the end...and I can definitely relate to this guy!
ReplyDeleteBlessings,
Michelle
eric...this is a gem.....i am sure when i am long gone i will no doubt of scratched verse on the coffin lid!!..as claudia said i also loved the following
ReplyDelete"desperately jotting down the thoughts before they became lost like Atlantis".
as a last note thanks for your support over the last six months of not only myself but also One Shot/One Stop...enjoy the festive season and have a great new year..all the best Pete
And what was left was - red. Red smears. A tribute to vanity and (even) pride. Well done, Eric.
ReplyDeleteSeeing the end coming on, is distressing. But an awareness triggered off can be made to be a positive response. Great take!
ReplyDeleteHmmmm...your intense writing made me stop, Eric, remembering scraps of ideas lying around waiting for the last line. Great poem in prose you've written here and it engaged my whole being. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteWow. I could earn a thing or two about how to write descriptions in a novel from you. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteEffective, stirring prose. :)
ReplyDeleteAn stirring look into the writer's heart.
ReplyDeletethis is brilliant. You really struck a nerve, I suppose since those of us who have the passion knows how this old man feels. If I wrote everything and about everything I wanted to write about at the time of its inception or inspiration, I would die this way, too...balance is so important in life, but sometimes so difficult to maintain.
ReplyDelete