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Thursday, September 15, 2005

Comment Invited 3:
All it would take is a pull of the switch and you buy the farm, bigtime.

Dave writes.....

Will you please post the attached story from Mark on the website whenever you can. He's looking for comments from the scribblers and would appreciate some feedback at some stage. Can either be posted on the site or sent to scribblers@ntlworld.com and marked feedback.



Shock Treatment

Tom sat there, all trussed up and nowhere to run.

He had been in charge, in control, he had always been a man who knew where everything, and everyone was at every single minute of the day. In fact he had always prided himself on that. To say that this maniacal obsession with absolute control drove everyone around him totally nuts.

Andy Warhols the Electric Chair - one of a sieries of prints

The sweat rolled down his brow and onto his nose, this was agony for him. He tried to look around but couldn’t see a thing. He hated the darkness, always had since he was a kid. Now he craved the light, he desperately wanted that safety. He could taste the fear, sensing that the time drew ever near. The sands of time trickling away, each minute grain mocking him with glee as it dropped to the bottom of fate’s bottomless pit. He wanted to scream in frustration but that release was taken from him as well.

Footsteps, heavy footfalls, sounded like boots….whispers too, he knew that he was being watched. Who were they….whoever they were, were they in darkness? Did they fear it like he did? So many questions now, so many….would any answers come his way? He had always had the answers, always in control……except for one minute when he lost all that…..why, oh why….that one time, lord and Christ why. All these questions bounced around in his mind, jostling for position in there with the abject fear and terror. The memories, sweet memories stayed in the corner of his consciousness and kept a low profile, hiding within the shadows of his current state of mind and being.

Fingers, feeling now, clutching at fate….attached to hands that would, that did condemn and much more. The evil that men do, he had always remembered and quoted that, saying it to many, like a sermon to the fallen. He had always enjoyed saying that.

No one after a while really enjoyed hearing it anymore, they avoided conversation with him. That was fine by him as he had always felt himself too good for the mundane trivia of polite conversation. He had always had good, important work to do, control, efficiency, time…..of the essence. A few more of the grains fell towards the plateau of his pre-determined fate and gave him the one finger salute on the way down, it was as if the world and time itself had it in for him.

What had he done?….he clamoured for a memory but that one memory stayed firmly curled up in the dark corner of recall, refusing to play or take part in any nostalgia trip.

More footsteps…..a pat on the hand that almost made him jump, he had always had nerves of steel, always proud of that.

Now, ahhhh, yes….a life, but well spent? No!….a life taken. The memory stepped forward from the depths, glowering at him, scowling at the request for show.

More footsteps behind him now then they stopped dead. Fear, not time, is of the essence, he decided.

The sound, the chime of the clock and it is for him that the bell tolls tonight.

The searing energy of it all surged through his body then the scorching light and from there the pitch, eternal darkness. His last thought was of his dear wife, sadly departed…..he had seen to that, the cheating bitch! The electricity died a few moments after he did.

Sentence of execution passed on Thomas Wayland III at………………………, former Governor of this very same institution. May his soul rest in pieces.

The copyright of this piece rests with the original author.

Read earlier complete pieces placed to invite comment Criticism Requested 1:
LIVING WITH THE THAI HILL TRIBES
and Criticism Requested 2:
Ann's beginning of a Historical Novel.

9 Comments:

Anonymous Shaken but not disturbed said...

Well it seems pretty good to me.

Felt it was flirting with a few genres - and finished with the good old goth/heavy rock punchline 'may his soul rest in pieces'.

Id be very interested to hear from Mark what he would like us to comment about and what guidance he is looking for.

Either way .... I like it.

*goes off to get new Tattoo*

Thursday, September 15, 2005 1:02:00 am  
Anonymous Margareta said...

Hello Mark, would you mind if I'd like to send some 'scribbler feedback' to you directly?
Please email (if you agree) to margareta@gmx.net.

Regards,
Margareta

Thursday, September 15, 2005 12:57:00 pm  
Blogger Felixstowe Scribblers said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Thursday, September 15, 2005 3:23:00 pm  
Anonymous Margareta said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Saturday, September 17, 2005 9:34:00 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your pages seem only interested in hearing praise. Surely critism should comprise both of the positive and the negative. So here I shall say it was okay but I wasn't greatly impressed. Now, if my comment was of a harsher content you'd no doubt briskly remove the comment. If you don't want honesty scribblers, don't ask for it!!!

Saturday, September 17, 2005 8:41:00 pm  
Blogger Felixstowe Scribblers said...

Anonymous -

I agree mainly with what you say

We try to censor as little as possible - the aim being nothing - but some has just had to be removed.

Im not happy about that - but its not inconsistent with what happens elsewhere on the web.

Sunday, September 18, 2005 2:00:00 am  
Anonymous Mark said...

Greetings to all,

i will say that i greatly appreciate all comments, be they in whatever form or tone. I can take as much from a comment that only seeks to deride for as much as one that praises.

I have learned, through the course of writing and life experience, that there is something to be gained from each action, comment or response.

My themes, writing and oft variety of styles is not for everyone. My influences, again, vary to a great degree. Just like the sauces and condiments that i like in life, i will sometimes throw something in there to spice and surprise. Writing, for me, is about seeing what can be done, and where we can go, with the tools at our disposal.

So on that note, i shall bid thee all adieu and wish happy literary travels to one and all.

Mark

Sunday, September 18, 2005 9:04:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mark
I made a comment on september 17, the time to be precise, 8.41pm. I said your work was okay, that I wasn't greatly impressed. I admit in my haste to make a point on criticism, I initially gave the piece but a cursory glance and I should like to say I read it through at a more leisurely pace and I was impressed by the sheer tone and gravity, that weighing of the atmosphere. Reading it, my imagination comjured a far darker picture than the colour illustration suggested to me.
Didn't mean to cause offence, hope I didn't. Very well done again.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005 5:29:00 pm  
Anonymous Mark said...

No Problem, all comments and criticisms for the work are taken for that, no offence inferred at all. Thanks.

Thursday, September 22, 2005 11:02:00 am  

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