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Finish The Story... The Best One Gets A Gift

V

By V
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V Newbie

V

Posted
Posted

It was dark. The only thing that tried to fight the darkness was the old headlamp on the street.

It was London around 1890. Grey city, sad as a tombstone, and with the smell of danger hang over the facades of the houses.

John tasted the fear in his mouth and felt that the end wasn’t too far.

Rats. Thousands of rats. Some of them were feasting on a dead horse and all the others were moving towards him. He run fast…very fast but at the corner of Hill Street he fell. The rats were approaching him and his death was inevitable.

And then he woke up. It was a dream, a bad dream…

He checked his wrist and the oversized Panerai was saying 6:30am.

He sneaked through the curtains outside of his window and the fog hovered between the houses of this big city, the mist was like intense dreaming seeking for the sun to end it.

He couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right today.

John couldn’t remember anything of his last night and he definitely didn’t wanted to wake up the girl in his double bed. He couldn’t. But who was she?

A girl so beautiful, that her body under the bed sheets was producing an enormous amount of awe.

She was fragile and John knew it.

He wore his two button black suit and his white shirt and grabbed the keys of his beloved old black Maserati Quattroporte.

When he stepped out of his building nothing was the same.

The silence was so intense like a myriad of orchestras just waiting for the maestro’s signal to begin.

Only that today there wasn’t any.

Next, he did the same exact thing he was doing every morning. Get in the car and start the engine. He turned the key and the cd from last night started to play: Arvo Paart – Spiegel Im Spiegel.

He checked briefly the retro leaf shaped clock of the Maserati and the time has stopped at 11:59pm.

And then….. HE REMEMBERED!!!

…to be continued :)

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V Newbie

V

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Well, I have thought of a possible scenario for John... although I think it will be really nice (if you like writing) to finish the story (in the way it started) with your own end.

The best one will get a gift from me :)

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cornerstone Collaborator

cornerstone

Posted
Posted

And then….. HE REMEMBERED!!!

"Of course!" He said, slapping the wheel.

Killing the engine, he snatched the keys from the ignition and clenched them in his fist.

With renewed purpose, he sprung from his car, ran out his garage door and started sprinting back towards the front door.

"I'm sure of it," he thought.

It all fitted together. The new Panerai on his wrist. The bottle of brandy. The other bottle of brandy. The lady in his bed.

Running up the stairs, beginning to lose breath, he turned into the doorway of his bedroom and darted towards the bed. That girl, lying so still. He whipped the sheet from upon her, and it all came back.

Her eyes opened, looking up with a start.

"Yes, I remember now!' He said with a grin. 'You're Eddie Lee's friend aren't you?!"

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ubiquitous Rookie

ubiquitous

Posted
Posted
The incredibly beautiful girl slowly opened her eyes, and whispered.....

"No, actually I'm TTK: You're still dreaming you stupid sod!

Now get the hell out of MINE!"

Almost, Ryy... But shouldn't it be:

"No...actually I'm TTK...You're still dreaming....you stupid sod...!!!

Now...get the hell...out of MINE...!!!"

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ryyannon Newbie

ryyannon

Posted
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A point well-taken, ubiquitous.

I think it all depends on whether the individual in the bed is wearing combat boots or not. Not to mention packing the celebrated ten-inch putz.

But I do seem to hear a chorus of plaintive voices in the stairwell intoning: "Where's my watch....where's my watch?"

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Pugwash Newbie

Pugwash

Posted
Posted
And then….. HE REMEMBERED!!!

He remembered that his dream within a dream, much like that of Poe, ended with a parting. At midnight, the real world would come crashing down around his ears, and he'd already sold much of his soul, and those of his beloved family, to stop the clock from turning over. He knew he couldn't let it end. He couldn't return to that life.

He remembered he had to feed the beast and say in this dreamstate another day. Stringing out another second for twenty-four more hours. It wasn't real, but it was better than what awaited his return.

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Estaban Newbie

Estaban

Posted
Posted

and then he remembered that he was supposed to send his Panerai to his watchmaker The Zigmeister to have a new battery installed. Damn those Italian watches with their battery operated movements :nonono:

He also realized that he was supposed to pick up his Fiat from the shop that day. Those Italians got him again :(. At least there's gelato.

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deltatahoe Newbie

deltatahoe

Posted
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and then.....HE REMEMBERED!!!

how could he forget? the silence should have been a dead giveaway...

the incessant ticking from that damn maserati clock. a quartz no less, insulting the craftmanship of an otherwise sophisticated, elegant creation: the responsive 4.2-litre 90° V8; the skyhook automatic damping system; the renowned maserati stability program. a thing of beauty.

"i can't let it tick away another day" he had thought, disconnecting the wires just before midnight. even arvo paart hadn't been able to silence the deafening ticking of the maserati clock. now, early in the morning, the beautiful, intense silence. no more ticking.

then the idea hit him: i will replace it with a panerai. a perfect marriage. a classic italian car and a classic italian watch.

first, to decide upon a dial. perhaps a 212? timing 0-60 would be convenient. but the dial is just too busy. perhaps a 005? the logo is nice, but it must be a sandwich dial. a 111h then? yes - it is decided. a classic, just like the maserati.

now for the parts. the crystal? it must be sapphire, and AR coated. the movement? swiss with working swan neck regulator. check. oh, and need to make sure there is no recessed pinion. anything else? almost forgot about the relume. does finepics work on cars? perhaps ziggy? i remember reading something about how working on watches is like working on a cars. no matter - i'll send them each a PM this afternoon.

for now, i will go back to bed. the girl! i had nearly forgotten. this new project will have to wait; rwg will still be there when i awake.

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pabra Newbie

pabra

Posted
Posted

It was dark. The only thing that tried to fight the darkness was the old headlamp on the street.

It was London around 1890. Grey city, sad as a tombstone, and with the smell of danger hang over the facades of the houses.

John tasted the fear in his mouth and felt that the end wasn’t too far.

Rats. Thousands of rats. Some of them were feasting on a dead horse and all the others were moving towards him. He run fast…very fast but at the corner of Hill Street he fell. The rats were approaching him and his death was inevitable.

And then he woke up. It was a dream, a bad dream…

He checked his wrist and the oversized Panerai was saying 6:30am.

He sneaked through the curtains outside of his window and the fog hovered between the houses of this big city, the mist was like intense dreaming seeking for the sun to end it.

He couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right today.

John couldn’t remember anything of his last night and he definitely didn’t wanted to wake up the girl in his double bed. He couldn’t. But who was she?

A girl so beautiful, that her body under the bed sheets was producing an enormous amount of awe.

She was fragile and John knew it.

He wore his two button black suit and his white shirt and grabbed the keys of his beloved old black Maserati Quattroporte.

When he stepped out of his building nothing was the same.

The silence was so intense like a myriad of orchestras just waiting for the maestro’s signal to begin.

Only that today there wasn’t any.

Next, he did the same exact thing he was doing every morning. Get in the car and start the engine. He turned the key and the cd from last night started to play: Arvo Paart – Spiegel Im Spiegel.

He checked briefly the retro leaf shaped clock of the Maserati and the time has stopped at 11:59pm.

And then….. HE REMEMBERED!!!

... that the last day of his life was about to come. At least so the robed man holding a beautiful amethyst timer had said a few nights ago in one of his dreams. At least he thought it was a man, as the voice was unearthly, as it was gasping for air in a climate it was not accustomed to. So this was what the dreams were leading him to. Death. Or a preparation for it. The shortening of his lifespan. Taking away a matter more important than life. Time. Time was his life. And now the clockwork of existance was about to break.

He stopped the car. Gazing at the clock, it became apparent that it was not about to aid him in his needs. It still stood at 11:59. So the quality of these cars hasn't improved, he chuckled to himself as he prepared to leave his hearse. As he exited, he noticed a silent stillness in the surroundings. Nothing was moving, well nothing except for him. The mosquitos that used to recon the air for scents, scents of blood, were hovering in the air. But their wings were not moving. He couldn't believe what he saw as he began to circle about his car. There were people about, their expressions were as cut in stone. The muscles arched in their faces as they were about to say something that could last forever. The feet were halfway through the step, accompanied by the torso that was turned to accomodate for a pleasantful walk. Nothing moved, especially not time.

This was worse than dying. Or was he already dead. He turned his face down towards his watch. It was still moving. How could this be? How could time go by if time did not exist. What cogs of fate were able to power his watch. And why the hell was it running too fast, he was gazing at it for a while as it seemed to be gaining over 10 minutes per minute. Should've sent it to The Zigmeister when I had the chance he thought while he struck his face. Or was it simply speeding up to show him that it was not much left. How precious time was. Or how he had wasted it. He looked down again. 11:59. What was playing with what here, something with him, or his mind with itself. He was now certain that he would die. Not die in the conventional sence. But death, as a was trap in time - or by time. He would 'die' in the old viking sense. With nobody that would be able to remember him. Nobody that actually could remember him.

In another way, life had turned. He went back to the car, only to see it further down the road - engulfed in flames. People were rushing to it. People moved! his existance was however unnoticed. People was passing through him, as he had passed through time, and apparently passed away. But he was still alive ... wasn't he? He could still think, he thought, which should definately qualify him as an existing being. And there was noone at the drivers seat, no body at all in the wreck he noticed as he stood amidst the flaming wreck like an ancient bird, ready to arise again. But he didn't.

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Pugwash Newbie

Pugwash

Posted
Posted
And then….. HE REMEMBERED!!!

He remembered the clock was broken. He looked back instead to his Trusty Watch.

"Guy said he'd fixed the clock last service," he said to himself, chuckling inside. As the 2nd movement died down, he had Time To Kill the CD before the third started, as it wouldn't do to be depressed at this time. that piece was the one that reminded him of the Precious Time he spent with the beautiful twins before their death, Perfect Clones of one another, yet different in every way. He would Aspire to rid himself of those torturous bitter-sweet memories of hope and loss and keep his thoughts Pure.

"Time to go," he thought, slipping the car into gear as he planned his dinner, a farewell dinner fit for a King. "Watch the road," he thought, remembering how the Thai watch sellers would run out into the road, accosting the tourists with their cries of "Narikaa, Lolex!"

He would have to drive carefully, several hours and considerably more miles away, towards his final dinner with his friend Eddie. Lee couldn't make it, which shocked him as he was the gloating type ...

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