Sunday, February 12, 2012

Timed Writing: 2/10/2012


Time: 10 minutes
Prompt: There were unicorns and forests of marijuana
Source: Luis Sepulveda, Full Circle: A South American Journey


There were unicorns and forests of marijuana in the dreamworld of Calvin Bords. There were 1968 ragtop Camaros and rib-eye steaks as well. Mostly, there were willing women -- willing and possessed of cruel wit.

Humor was important to Calvin Bords. He understood his own shortcoming -- an apt term -- better than anyone, and to have it either ignored or pitied drove him insane with rage. He would have his physical anomaly both acknowledged and ridiculed with the full force of a woman's scorn and then he would have that woman consume him in spite of it.

Calvin Bords would cruise along through verdant jungle, behind the wheel of his chromed and waxed red beast, a smoldering role between his stubbled lips and an Uzi on his lap. A unicorn would emerge from the undergrowth, white, pearlescent in the tropical sun. Calvin Bords would unload. The muzzle fire would ignite the cannabis leaves and the rounds would tear gaping bites from the unicorn's neck and flanks. Bullets would chip and fracture its horn. Bits of gristle and fur and bone and skin would land in the burning foliage and sizzle. Stench of grilled meat and burnt hair would fill his nostrils. Blood would splash around the animal as it sank into a puddle of its own gore and entrails. And then the women would arrive and Calvin Bords would strip naked and the women would point and laugh and make clever, cutting jokes at his expense and then fall upon him. And then he would wake and only his deformity would remain.

(about my timed writing exercises)


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