tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18064167557684341482011-12-19T21:17:51.745-08:00Test-track for new ideas.Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-9271546365908876402011-01-03T06:53:00.000-08:002011-01-03T06:53:08.442-08:00

Allowing someone to think you’re dead is a positive thrill, especially if you hated him or her in the first place. But if you loved them, as you always tend to do with potential victims, it hurts beyond compare to that of any thinkable physical pain. I speak of my Magdalena: a delicate, rare dark beauty from my motherland. With skin the color of finely spun caramel and thick deep chocolate curls

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-71947519917098955532010-06-05T22:23:00.000-07:002010-06-05T23:59:53.521-07:00

A white room. Static. Stein woke slowly—heavy like a hangover after a wild party. Booze, beer, weed and man those girls…those girls had it going on. He shook his head and pushed up off the floor. There was nothing, but there was pure light and— “Shit.” His face was grimy. He needed a shower and a shave. The dead didn’t need showers and they didn’t shave. Laughter. His eyes clung to the polished

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-22391434154374375802010-02-10T14:38:00.000-08:002010-02-11T04:24:54.666-08:00

Skipping ahead. Just a hair. You'll be okay once the meds kick in, I promise. - C.C.As soon as they passed through the barrier, Isobel lost power. The jazz dulled inside the car, relieving Stein's ears. He fought with the controls and pulled the long car into the first dark alley he could find. He smiled. Somehow, Isobel had brought him right back to New York. To reality. When the vehicle came to

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-45531081639136419392009-12-06T07:37:00.000-08:002010-01-19T13:50:39.136-08:00

It was night. A red glow on the horizon. Stein was behind the wheel and they were in Isobel. “You gotta stop zapping me around. I could get us killed.” Roger laughed and waved his hand. “I wanted to see what you would do in a situation like that. That was a vital turn in history you disrupted. On top of that, you could see and take her soul. Much more than I expected. Much more than I was

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-86252456038934372412009-10-30T14:27:00.000-07:002009-10-30T14:56:06.338-07:00

Roger laughed—a hollow, grating sound—and leered at Stein.“It doesn't matter now, but just wait.”Stein pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, over his left eye. “Fuck,” he growled. His head was throbbing, like a bad drug-induced trip, and the wave took him completely by surprise, knocking him flat on his back before the sky fell in. Undulations of red bloody falls and crushed blue

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-68943344821979309172009-10-26T19:46:00.000-07:002009-10-27T08:57:16.335-07:00

A thunderstorm rumbled in the distance with the promise of rain. Woods loomed nearby and the dead grass crunched underfoot. Like glass, Stein thought.“I thought there wasn't weather in hell,” Stein said, glancing upwards.Roger followed his gaze. “Everything is always changing in this Purgatory of yours.”“Purgatory? All this is made by other people?”“Memories, yes. Lives. Essences.” Roger said and

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-73250342837486293342009-10-06T21:14:00.000-07:002009-10-11T11:33:22.817-07:00

His eyes opened in water. Blue wavered in his vision before he realized where he was. He turned his head to see Roger with his shark-teeth grinning in the nocturnal lighting. A red ribbon twisted and curled in on itself in the pool's movement. He felt himself pulled back and out of the icy water. “Stein! Man! Speak to me man!” Turned over. A face in his. His words tried to come, but there was

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-83870803901439074072009-09-27T19:12:00.000-07:002009-10-27T08:15:32.162-07:00

The skyscape dropped into darkness, and the wind picked up in a protesting howl, setting the tattered remains of the burned American flag free into the air—a certain flurry, like black bits of paper. A charred stuffed bear lay face-down in Stein's path. Without knowing why, he bent to pick it up, dusting off the damp fur to inspect it.A young girl's laughter resounded somewhere from between the

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-38627164959822458692009-09-20T20:54:00.000-07:002009-09-28T04:33:59.008-07:00

Secrets are like dust in a busy household—pushed from corner to corner and jabbed at in an attempt to eradicate, but the fact remains as long as there is life, there will be dust because we are of it. The stars winked at him, and twisted in their deep sky-burrows. The moon scurried behind a copse of clouds like Eve in the trees after she'd eaten the infamous apple. The voice was strong, and his

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-49628023522887113142009-09-19T22:07:00.000-07:002009-09-28T02:15:29.962-07:00

Gaily-colored streamers tacked to the ceiling descended to the floor and balloons, each with a letter of Stein's name, stood proud and straight on their thin twined bunches. Maggie Chamberlain was in the kitchen, singing along to Buddy Holly while she watched the maid cut the cake.“Barbara! Even slices. Don't want Cristein to get fat, like his father.” Her blonde hair was dyed pink in places with

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-22186699420803594512009-09-16T21:13:00.000-07:002009-10-22T12:37:00.338-07:00

The lights flickered, and the windows rattled in their frames. The patrons went on about their business as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.“What the fuck is wrong with you people?!” Stein shouted and turned around and around, glancing up at the ceiling as motes of plaster drifted lazily in the air. The woman eating the sandwich paused, her eyes meeting his for the remotest of seconds

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-68825642130843158912009-09-15T18:04:00.000-07:002009-10-11T11:36:17.914-07:00

Suggestions for corrections are always welcome. These will most likely be first-drafts. The road ahead dissolved in a muddled blur through the rain-speckled windshield as the speedometer crept up to the promised 500. Stein's throat was raw from screaming ever since the strange black beast's Pirellis caught purchase on the freeway leading out of New York state. The engine, before a demure purr

Carrie Clevengerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05093923008179106837noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806416755768434148.post-84596627896275482252009-09-15T09:03:00.000-07:002009-09-28T02:16:32.673-07:00

The parking lot was dark—the lot lights hadn't reset with the time change. Stein stared the little salesman down with a degree of desperation of a man with nothing left to acquire.“Maybe a Corvette,” the salesman offered. His badge read Benny. Like Benny Hill, except he wasn't funny and this wasn't the fucking U.K.“I have six of them.”“Mercedes.”“My dad drives a Mercedes.”Benny tugged at his

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