Location: marengo, il, United States

Tuesday, December 14, 2004


Way Bon Adventure concentrates on the girl of his dreams. Somehow she has managed to be in charge of their wild ride together. The young lass has also captured his attention in a most spellbinding way.

He sits behind her so close that he feels each lively shift of the female hips between his inner thighs. Black ringlets of her lengthy hair bounce up and down with every movement of her head. She whispers softly over her shoulder as her dark locks dip and bob. She gestures slightly with one hand; her curls sway back and forth magically.

These movements begin to unsettle him. Something is not right, he thinks.

He leans to his left to meet a blast of fierce wintry wind that strikes his face with incredible force. His eyes sting and begin to water from the frigid air. He tightens his grip around her curved waist and lays his head forward to rest among her tousled tresses.

The motions of the stallion rock him peacefully. The gait of the animal feels both comfortable and reassuring.

Then out to his left he notices people walking across the landscape. All seem to be heading in the same direction as the horse, the girl and he. They tread ghost-like and with purpose, intent on a task unclear to Bon Adventure. Not a single person regards the galloping pair.

Easy Lee comes gliding by. The teen stands comfortably on a long hand-fashioned skateboard, and he waves to the pair once. He half-smiles from beneath Eli’s black bowler hat before dissolving into the crowd. Off to one side a lone individual carries a dog cradled in his arms. The animal seems to be either asleep or dead; its coat drips foam from a recent bath.

Far beyond the foot traffic Bon Adventure catches sight of trees. A number of the oaks form a straight line, but each of the ancients appears stubby and unnaturally pruned.

The walkers leisurely approach a ridge of low-lying hills up ahead. Above in the sky, bright pin-points of light appear without warning . Within seconds hundreds dot the heavens. The crowd becomes agitated, and then in unison they begin trotting toward the hills as the lights float toward the earth.

From high overhead the lights drift close and closer. As they descend the shapes grow larger, becoming recognizable as elongated sections of petrified wood.

One in particular comes near enough to identify its unmistakable features. The object throws off sparks from its entire surface. It crackles and pops noisily as it sails by overhead.

In the distance one abruptly collides with the ground where it explodes. A staggering sound reverberates over the scene. The crowd panics and runs, leaving both riders and their steed far behind.

Trixie’s voice cuts through the mad dash, which startles Way.

“Coffee’s ready if you want a cup. I have to leave for work soon.”


Blogger Gone Away said...

I'd prefer to see it in context (still grumpy after the last)...

9:12 PM  
Blogger Hannah said...

Context is good.

Nice romantice beginning, and horses are always nice, unless they're standing on your foot, of course.

Did you fall asleep in the chair, or did you actually make it to the bed?

10:27 PM  
Blogger Harry said...

A brief explanation, regarding Context; Re-read the first sentence. Now, a lengthy one. That flip landed me at the bottom of an empty pool, fool that I am. I laid there on my back looking up at a blue sky, while surrounded by four pastel pink-and-blue and badly-cracked walls, and I thought, "Is this it? What is to become of poor old Bon Adventure now?" Truth is, I have no idea, save the one Twain suggested when he ended a twisted and complicated tome he found himself caught up in with an admission of abandoning the character as unaccounted for, with no further reason nor apology. Perhaps we could celebrate, New Orleans-style.

8:46 AM  
Blogger Gone Away said...

A circular trip around Way's brain. All right, you're forgiven.

The courage to walk out upon the board is the essence of the art of diving. There are times when it is required that we make the dive blindfolded; and if we find the pool is empty, there is no other recourse but to climb back out, address the ladder and the board once more, hoping against hope that, this time, someone has remembered to turn on the faucet...

10:34 AM  
Blogger Harry said...

Besides your craft, you do two other things well. You grasp my intent, and you express it better than I.

"Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink..."

11:42 AM  
Blogger Gone Away said...

The originator of an idea is always its finest exponent. And you, sir, are nothing if not original.

2:42 PM  
Blogger Harry said...

From over her shoulder Ali shoots, as she departs our daily demands to sit and read over these: Are you two still having Comment Wars? From where we scoff back in amusement: Come read Clive's blog of the day. That gets us an echo from two rooms away: Can I do it later?

(The crap we must endure for measly attention)

4:32 PM  

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