Okay guys, so this is my sad, pathetic attempt at writing like Jess. It does not do her justice at all, but I primarily tried to focus on her use of amazing sensory description and apply it to whatever came to my head. And failed. So this is whatever came to me as I tried to write like Jess.
The grainy, paper-thin walls echo and reverb the self-inflicted stigmata of her ancestor's-past in the room, as she perceives everything as nothing, and nothing as everything.
She has never been as lost within her mind as she had been today, as the solemn dying sun dried up into the nestling horizon, taking it into its arms and putting it to sleep. A baby cradled, only to explode and flourish its auburn knowledge unto the helpless, again and again.
Gwyn remains restless, sitting in a chair, and she could tell by his body language that whatever it was they had was coming to an abrupt end tonight. He sat across from her, shuffling a deck of cards, flipping every single one into another incessantly in order to distract himself from whatever was coming.
Was everyone looking at her, today, or did she just think they were? Through the myriad structure of bustling children, shy school bus drivers and clueless elementary school teachers, she noticed herself in the reflection of a skyscraper building. What finally hit her was more of an astounded gust, a gasping breath, a plea for help. Had she seen the true nature of the soul? Or had she simply lost it in that instant?
It was the implosion of the inner part of her chest that awakened her from this moment, shaking off the bitterness like a furry fly into a window. Had she been so blind as not to see the despondence of her lover? Her stringy hair like dried spaghetti, the wetness grease of a car's engine made her feel intoxicated by her timid nature. She wanted to dig herself underneath.
At times she wondered whether everyone really was looking at her or if it was the illusion of constantly being afraid of herself. That ability to distinguish her mind from reality consumed her, causing sweat to spew from her forehead and shine a light toward the darkness of her lover.
He shuffled the cards and passed the deck to Gwyn in order for her to cut the deck. Vehemently, she grabbed every single card from the deck, save for one, and quietly placed that one card on the top of the deck.
He dealt the cards.
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2 comments:
It's... kind of peculiar reading you like this. I like it, but not Jordano-style.
I'm not sure what else to say.
I like this story, and it did remind me of Jess's style, it reminded me a little of her story Cheat. I loved the descriptions in the first paragraph especially,and
I also love the line "shaking off the bitterness like a furry fly into a window."
nice work with the descriptions, and the storyline is something I could envision her writing.
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