Dear followers,
I have reached the point where I would love some feedback on my writings. If you could tell me which story you liked the most and least with reasons why, that’d be amazing.
Hailey’s Life Prophesized by Captain Misfit
In celebration of my lovely friend Hailey’s 23rd birthday, I have decided to write a short prophecy of her life. Enjoy!
40 years from now, Hailey reflected back on her life. At the age of 63, she had been married five times. Her first husband, John, had been an electrical engineer but had cheated on her with an attractive blonde flight attendant.
Husband number 2 was a doctor named Tom who committed suicide due to the massive amounts of stress his job entailed.
Her third husband was a short, temperamental man from Eastern Europe. He was very secretive and she, to be perfectly honest, wasn’t sure what he did for a living. One night she got a phone call from someone claiming to be her husband’s employer saying he would not be coming home.
Hailey’s fourth husband was a bull-headed rabid football fan named Kellen. After many run-ins with the law and more than a few gambling debts, the pair decided to split and go their separate ways.
Husband number 5, and most recent, had been an Internet billionaire who died suddenly shortly after their marriage. Hailey, of course, was named the prime suspect when the police had suspected foul play in his death. She was acquitted of all charges.
Now, with more in her personal bank account than she knew what to do with, Hailey wandered the European countryside. Her hunger for adventure and romance knew no bounds. With her head resting against the cold glass of the bullet train, she thought of her last month in Rome, Italy. Nights filled with wine and fine cuisine with many Italian men asking for her hand in marriage (to which she declined them all).
She had reached the point in her life that she was under the impression she would be alone forever. A sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, remembering when she was young and, in her opinion, desirable by men.
As her mind wandered, she was interrupted by a cough. Her eyes found the culprit, a handsome young man with dark hair.
“My apologies, ma’am,” he said in a thick English accent. Her cheeks flushed hot in a swell of nerves she hadn’t experienced in some time.
Over the next few days, she had spent many countless hours with the young man. His name was William, he was the son of some big-shot CEO of some company Hailey had never heard of. Something deep inside her heart stirred when she was with him.
She soon learned that young William had a serious Oedipus complex following the death of his mother when he was a young age. He had begun to hate his father at that point and did everything he could to anger and spite his old man. One of those things was asking Hailey for her hand in marriage which she immediately accepted.
Though trouble abounds when she is introduced to the rest of his family. His younger, rebellious Scottish cousin had been giving her glances and subtle winks all night. To make matters worse, William and his father were shouting at each other in the study.
Lawrence, as the Scottish cousin was named, took it upon himself to give Hailey a good time in the city as William and his father settled their differences.
Thus, Hailey began a torrid love affair with young Lawrence. They kept their love a secret, however, as they were weary of the consequences. As the date of Hailey and William’s marriage drew closer, Lawrence voiced his opposition to the union.
How will the next few days following Hailey’s 63rd birthday turn out? Only time will tell.
Eyes
Eyes that hold lust but not for me. Smile that isn’t genuine. Sloppy drunken kisses that hold no meaning. Laying in a bed that’s not mine and I wasn’t invited to.
Eyes that are beautiful but seem conflicted. Eyes that are mine filled with confusion and arrogance. Emotions run rampant and unchecked. Voices raise and glass shatters.
Eyes that spot an exit. The fire escape is attached to the porch. I slide down it, the cold snowy wind slaps my face hard. The ladder stops and I drop to the snow below. Tears well in my eyes, eyes filled with sadness and rejection.
Why do I always get myself in these kind of situations?
I’m an awful writer. Haven’t posted in three weeks. I promise I’ll write something very soon. Eventually. Maybe. If you’re good.
Knock three times.
[This is something that belongs on Jamie Kinn…..]
Knock three times if you’re awake. That was the note Tim found under his door when he got home from work. He smiled to himself, knowing the message was from Angela, the girl who lived above him in their apartment building.
Though he had never met Angela, he had somehow fallen in love with her. Their different work schedules and other factors contributed as to why they haven’t met. Tim knew everything about her. Thanks to Facebook, text messages and phone calls, he had gotten to know her over the time. He knew she liked her coffee with two sugars. He knew her cat’s name was Octavian. He had even met her friends before but never in the year they lived in the same building had he ever been in the same room with Angela.
Currently I’m editing and re-writing my Star Wars steampunk story. Stay tuned for something awesome.
[Editor’s note: Please don’t ask where the idea came from or why I wrote this. I also apologize in advance for the content and language :D]
The lights are hot. Bright and hot. My skin is sweating intensely, rolling down my back to the crack of my ass. The girl under me is staring up at the lights. Her tits are rocking back and forth from the motion but she’s just staring. Actually, they’re not moving much because they aren’t real. I don’t think she’s blinked in five minutes. A drop of sweat drops from my brow into her eyeball, causing her to blink. Well, at least she’s alive.
“Cut!” someone screams at me. I roll off the girl, breathing heavy. I feel a hand on my cock, stroking it to keep me hard. “Good job, John. Keep it up.” The director starts talking to my co-star but the words are muffled. I don’t even know who is jerking me off right now. Could be anyone. I can’t feel a damn thing in my whole body anyway. However, I do notice the hand becomes a wet mouth wrapped around my cock.
A shiny silver platter makes its way to my face. White powder in a series of thin lines and a rolled up 20 dollar bill are on it. Cocaine. I snort a line, feeling a jolt of energy surge through my body. Then I take a bit to rub on my gums. I don’t remember why I can’t feel anything. Maybe it was the morphine I did earlier…
The director yells at us to start fucking again. I’m on top of the fake blonde with matching tits. Her vacant expression is unchanged, her mascara is smeared all over from a combination of sweat, saliva and terrible application in the first place.
“Oh yeah, baby…” she says vacantly, her voice has no emotion or inflection. The room is silent except for the sound of skin slapping against skin and the heavy breathing of the film crew. I momentarily wonder if they’re getting off to this…and followup question: who’s the focus of their attention? “Give it to me hard.”
My whole body is numb, I’m not even sure that I’m inside of her. Before I know, the director is yelling for another cut and snatches the blonde out from under me. My head rolls off to one side accompanied by my eyes sliding in and out of focus. How did I get myself into this situation? It started like a normal day… Followed by a series of lucky events culminating with sex with the fake tittied blonde, a famous porn star going by the name of Sandy Suxxx.
Another offer of cocaine comes near me. I hear a man’s voice but it’s muffled and sounds like the parents of the Peanuts cartoon. The inhale the white powder, I lose count of how many times. There’s a hand on my bare shoulder, shaking me but I can’t do anything to respond.
