Hello
Somehow, inexplicably, you have stumbled upon this page. Good karma for you!
For the sake of filler, I'll post the opening to a short story/ film I've been writing at an extremely lethargic pace:
Stanley Woodrow was unconscious. He was lying sprawled out over the grass, facing the sky, eyes closed; but not for long. As suddenly as he had come to be in this place, he was conscience again and he spun upwards sitting upright. Stanley’s head was reeling; his vision blurry, all he could make of his surroundings was green. He couldn’t clearly see around him, but he did know, wherever he was there was plenty of green. Full control of his senses still eluding him, Stanley tried to get to his feet; initially a challenge considering his tall and lanky stature, but soon he was standing on his feet. After blinking multiple times Stanley’s vision returned to normalcy, and was able to realize his surroundings. He was aware, now, that he was standing in a wide, barren, empty, and grassy field. He was also now aware that he was not alone.
A man was standing 300 feet to Stanley’s right. Stanley squinted to try and make out the man’s features, but could deduce only that the man had is back to him and his arms crossed behind his back. Stanley considered whether or not he should seek his acquaintance, the only argument against this he could conjure was that this man was unmoving, and perfectly still. Mr. Woodrow finally made a decision to investigate, and began to make his way towards the mysterious figure in the distance. When Stanley reached a generous distance he breached the silence with an inquiry, “Who are you?” asked Stanley, niceties aside. “Irrelevant.” Retorted the strange man, whom Stanley came to realize was wearing a black suit. “Erm.. okay…?” Stanley responded, taken aback by the figure’s brashness. After regaining his composure Stanley pursued a line of questioning once more, “Well in that case… where are we?” “Also irrelevant” replied the man just as emotionless as before. But this time he followed with a response, “The only question that matters is ‘Why are you here, Stanley.’”
The surprise Stanley blinked his eyes a few times in a confused silence. He began to ask the figure how it was that he knew his name, but he considered again the unusual circumstances of his arrive in this place, and decided that this man knowing his name was par for the course as far as this day was concerned. Why am I here? Stanley thought to himself. But the more he searched for an answer the more he came to realize that the knowledge of where he was, was of critical importance in understanding.
The very pensive Stanley reviewed what he could last remember as best he could, but the details were hazy and clouded. Suddenly Stanly started to see vivid images of swirling red and white. He began to recall a splitting pain in his head, and he soon arrived at a truly startling thought. Am I even alive? A sudden shutter of terror pulsated fully throughout his body. “Am….am….am I dead…?” Stanley asked timidly, his voice quivering. The man in black seemed to sense Stanley’s fear, and his demeanor began to warm greatly. “That’s a very good question,” the man replied approvingly, “but it’s not my place to say.”
Stanley paused, as the man’s response, despite warmth in tone, was anything but what he wanted to hear.
And for the hell of it, some shameless self promotion: http://www.facebook.com/dynamicgardens
Namaste, and good luck.
