This is a short story that I can adapt to graphic novel form if i choose but as of yet have no incentive to do so. I feel it would rob of some of its charm; it very well could add to it as well but there are aspects of it that I feel are best left to the imagination. Well heres your sneak peak at Two Blind Mice
Two Blind Mice by Davey Garay
Kitty Litter
“Welcome to the shit hole of the world kid, welcome to hell”,
I said to the new guy my partner Phil just hired. He’s a young, nice kid still hangs out with all the mice ‘stead of the big ass rats that make up this hell hole. This town ain’t so bad s’long as you don’ mind lookin’ the other way. You see the cats run this town, like they do most other sin cities. You turn up missing if you cause any kind of trouble they don’t like. In our line of business, excuse me Private investigator Raymond Gittes at your service, as I was saying, in our line of business sometimes we ruffle up the wrong feathers and mice close to us get hurt. I learned the hard way, don’t cross the cats.
Anyways it’s a quarter to nine and I’ve had just about all I could handle of this office and this new assistant prick who would wipe my ass if I asked him to, nice kid. I grab my top hat and head for the door. Phil’s not in so I’ll have to call him once I get to the bar to check up on him, I still feel responsible.
“Hey kid, Hollis!”
“Yes boss?”
“I’m taking the rest of the night o—“
“Going home so soon boss?”
“Yes! Now if anyone calls take a message and leave it on my desk”.
“Ok sir, yes SIR!”
I walk out the door and begin walking down the hallway and I can already smell the stench of this city. Rat and cat piss. Cats will use rats to do the dirty jobs they don’t want to be caught doing or maybe they just like to watch us kill each other. Either way the cats have shit all over this place as if it were their own personal litter box. I walk out the door and smell the air, light a cig and take a long drag, feel the hell I just breathed go down into my lungs, and stand outside.
I hate this street, especially at night. I had the longest walk of my life, walking from my car to this building. Still hurts when I breathe sometimes, smoking makes me feel normal again.
The shadows of the buildings create dark crevasses where awful things like to hide. Sometimes if you walk for a bit and stare into the dark, eyes will stare back. I hate this place but it ain’t half as bad as the sewer cities.
I walk down the streets and keep looking over my shoulder; like I said my line of work you rattle a few cages. I spot a car parked a block down the road that I’ve never seen before, modern car, I know that much, looks like an electric shaver. The cars lights are off when it comes to life and slowly begins moving up the street. It must be rats because if it were cats they wouldn’t care to be seen. I know who the people in the car are after...
Well there it is, the end of your sneak. Hope you enjoyed the peak and you may ask to read the rest of the story. This may develop into a much larger expanded universe but so far the short story has a journey's end.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Sneak peak SS 3
Here is a special sneak peak at a horror story I am currently writing;the story does not have a title at the moment. Its very much inspired by H.P. Lovecraft but I hope to lend my own voice and my own story to some familiar elements of his stories. Heres a quick look at page one. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Please feel free to comment and let me know if youd like to read it finished. Enjoy
(untitled)
1
In the Memento
Where am I? Why am I coughing? My head is throbbing, why? I go feeling around my body and head but nothing appears to be hurt. Why does my head hurt so much? The lights in here are so bright. There are more people in this room. There are chairs and a table with a woman behind it, entrance and exit doors right next to it. The doors are window so I can tell its night outside, I look at the clock over my head; its 3:50 a.m. Where the hell am I? There is a TV in this room and people are watching it, the Titanic is on. The chairs are filed like a waiting room, what am I waiting for? Seems like a hospital. I don’t know who any of these people are. God, who am I? I can’t remember.
I get up out of my chair and start walking around the room, I pass by some of the people and they give me an annoyed look. I go straight from where I was sitting and take a right at the end of the row of chairs headed deeper into the “hospital”. There’s a door, as I begin to walk through the door the lady at the desk says “Hello? Excuse me sir, excuse me! You can’t go in there, that’s a staff only room.”
“I’m sorry I was looking for the bathroom, could you tell me where it is?”
“Yes sir, you see that hallway? Walk down it and then take a left and what you’re looking for should be right there. The bathroom isn’t what you’re really looking for though is it?”I give her a strange look and say,
“Thank you ma’am….”
Before I turn to walk down the hallway I notice the receptionists face. Its ---------------. I shake the creep going down my spine and begin walking down the hallway. Walls are a bit dirty and the hall is dimly lit, like it was lit by a single candle of the middle of the room. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up. This hallway doesn’t want to end; it didn’t look this long a few minutes ago. All the rooms’ doors in the hallway are open with the lights turned off; I can’t see anything inside them. There are so many rooms. I look back to ask the receptionist for directions again and my eyes open wide. All that is behind me is darkness....
Well that's all you get guys. Hope you enjoyed it.
(untitled)
1
In the Memento
Where am I? Why am I coughing? My head is throbbing, why? I go feeling around my body and head but nothing appears to be hurt. Why does my head hurt so much? The lights in here are so bright. There are more people in this room. There are chairs and a table with a woman behind it, entrance and exit doors right next to it. The doors are window so I can tell its night outside, I look at the clock over my head; its 3:50 a.m. Where the hell am I? There is a TV in this room and people are watching it, the Titanic is on. The chairs are filed like a waiting room, what am I waiting for? Seems like a hospital. I don’t know who any of these people are. God, who am I? I can’t remember.
I get up out of my chair and start walking around the room, I pass by some of the people and they give me an annoyed look. I go straight from where I was sitting and take a right at the end of the row of chairs headed deeper into the “hospital”. There’s a door, as I begin to walk through the door the lady at the desk says “Hello? Excuse me sir, excuse me! You can’t go in there, that’s a staff only room.”
“I’m sorry I was looking for the bathroom, could you tell me where it is?”
“Yes sir, you see that hallway? Walk down it and then take a left and what you’re looking for should be right there. The bathroom isn’t what you’re really looking for though is it?”I give her a strange look and say,
“Thank you ma’am….”
Before I turn to walk down the hallway I notice the receptionists face. Its ---------------. I shake the creep going down my spine and begin walking down the hallway. Walls are a bit dirty and the hall is dimly lit, like it was lit by a single candle of the middle of the room. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up. This hallway doesn’t want to end; it didn’t look this long a few minutes ago. All the rooms’ doors in the hallway are open with the lights turned off; I can’t see anything inside them. There are so many rooms. I look back to ask the receptionist for directions again and my eyes open wide. All that is behind me is darkness....
Well that's all you get guys. Hope you enjoyed it.
Sneak peak SS 2
Heres another sneak peak at a short story I have written, this one may evolve into a much larger story. I hope you enjoy the little bit of the story I give you.
Isle of the Dead
Somewhere on a distant island a small old man with spectacles and suspenders sits in a room silently watching a clock tick. The clock ticks on and on echoing through the halls leading up to his desolate office. He sits watching it patiently and firmly holds his head up with both his hands leaning forward in his office chair. His gaze so unflinching that if an outsider were to see, they’d think him a statue. The clock is ticking; the sound piercing his brain, all the way down to his very soul. Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock.
A clock goes off in the room but not the one he was gazing at. He picks up the clock he was gazing at and places it in his pocket and moves about the room. His office is filled with clocks, millions and millions of clocks, tiny and big. He gets up from his chair and shuts off the clock, removes its batteries and a card attached to it. He puts the batteries away in his desk; there is always a new clock that will need them. He punches out the card and stands silently for a moment. The card says Eliza Sputman, he knew an Eliza once. Doing this is always hard for him. His frail frame shakes for a second as he stands then he thumbs the clock in his pocket and then he continues on. He places Eliza’s card in the outgoing mail. The mail always goes to one place. Three other clocks go off and he goes back to work.
Eliza Sputman drives down the silent road uncertain of where she is going...
There that's the end of your sneak peak. Hope you enjoyed it and want to finish the rest of the story.
Isle of the Dead
Somewhere on a distant island a small old man with spectacles and suspenders sits in a room silently watching a clock tick. The clock ticks on and on echoing through the halls leading up to his desolate office. He sits watching it patiently and firmly holds his head up with both his hands leaning forward in his office chair. His gaze so unflinching that if an outsider were to see, they’d think him a statue. The clock is ticking; the sound piercing his brain, all the way down to his very soul. Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock.
A clock goes off in the room but not the one he was gazing at. He picks up the clock he was gazing at and places it in his pocket and moves about the room. His office is filled with clocks, millions and millions of clocks, tiny and big. He gets up from his chair and shuts off the clock, removes its batteries and a card attached to it. He puts the batteries away in his desk; there is always a new clock that will need them. He punches out the card and stands silently for a moment. The card says Eliza Sputman, he knew an Eliza once. Doing this is always hard for him. His frail frame shakes for a second as he stands then he thumbs the clock in his pocket and then he continues on. He places Eliza’s card in the outgoing mail. The mail always goes to one place. Three other clocks go off and he goes back to work.
Eliza Sputman drives down the silent road uncertain of where she is going...
There that's the end of your sneak peak. Hope you enjoyed it and want to finish the rest of the story.
Sneak peak SS
Heres a sneak peak at my one of my short stories. I hope you enjoy it. If you would like to finish the tale simply let me know.
By Davey Garay
Harriet and the Kiss of Forgetfulness
Harriet was a very beautiful young woman,More beautiful than most women.She was full of life and a certain gracefulness that attracted men and women alike as if moths to the flame. Harriet was a flame and she burned very brightly.Despite her happiness, her life had been hard. At a young age her mother’s life had perished but not before her mother could make a wish and write it on a slip of paper.
She gave the slip to Harriet and said “This now has my heart little baby. Keep it with you always and may you forget me as a sorrowful memory but remember as I once was. Only look at this slip when you need. When the time comes you will know.” And with this final statement her breathe escaped her body, fading in to the sunlight peeking through the window.
Harriet was still such a loving and beautiful little girl, full of magic and wonder. She was always out dancing amidst the sadness of the world; as if to say “What sadness?”
Harriet’s father walked out on her some time after this tragedy. Many nights he would watch his daughter sleep with caring and loving eyes. She was all that he had left and Harriet felt safe when he was near...
That's it. That's all you get.
(P.S. the story is finished, just in case you were wondering)
By Davey Garay
Harriet and the Kiss of Forgetfulness
Harriet was a very beautiful young woman,More beautiful than most women.She was full of life and a certain gracefulness that attracted men and women alike as if moths to the flame. Harriet was a flame and she burned very brightly.Despite her happiness, her life had been hard. At a young age her mother’s life had perished but not before her mother could make a wish and write it on a slip of paper.
She gave the slip to Harriet and said “This now has my heart little baby. Keep it with you always and may you forget me as a sorrowful memory but remember as I once was. Only look at this slip when you need. When the time comes you will know.” And with this final statement her breathe escaped her body, fading in to the sunlight peeking through the window.
Harriet was still such a loving and beautiful little girl, full of magic and wonder. She was always out dancing amidst the sadness of the world; as if to say “What sadness?”
Harriet’s father walked out on her some time after this tragedy. Many nights he would watch his daughter sleep with caring and loving eyes. She was all that he had left and Harriet felt safe when he was near...
That's it. That's all you get.
(P.S. the story is finished, just in case you were wondering)
Writing 04
This was somewhat intended to be written as a song. Perhaps one day it will be.
Traveling Man by Davey Garay
The road I’m traveling
Is lonesome, hallow and dark.
It never ends and frequently bends
But never ever stops.
I’m a solitary man, cuz this is how I stand
I travel from city to city and play a one man band.
I sing and hum, play my guitar and then run.
I’m a solitary man but a traveling man and my baggage has overrun.
It slows me down, makes my face forever frown.
I’ve lost my way and I’ll never understand how
But since I’ve taken this road, five years to the day
I know I wasn’t alone.
She waits for me just in the other town.
Maybe this time she’ll stay.
Traveling Man by Davey Garay
The road I’m traveling
Is lonesome, hallow and dark.
It never ends and frequently bends
But never ever stops.
I’m a solitary man, cuz this is how I stand
I travel from city to city and play a one man band.
I sing and hum, play my guitar and then run.
I’m a solitary man but a traveling man and my baggage has overrun.
It slows me down, makes my face forever frown.
I’ve lost my way and I’ll never understand how
But since I’ve taken this road, five years to the day
I know I wasn’t alone.
She waits for me just in the other town.
Maybe this time she’ll stay.
Writing 03
The lost boy By Davey Garay
We used to play
All day long
Out in the woods
We were all so happy then
Our lil’ gang
After what happened
We all never played
Together again
Every year
I visit you, Peter
You are always
The same age
And you always will be
Forever
We used to play
All day long
Out in the woods
We were all so happy then
Our lil’ gang
After what happened
We all never played
Together again
Every year
I visit you, Peter
You are always
The same age
And you always will be
Forever
Writing 02
Only Natural By Davey Garay
Strawberry hair, hate it.
Rose lips, despise them.
Eyes that shine like stars, screw those.
How can I hate the strawberries I eat for breakfast every morning,
The rose bush I pass on my evening walk during lunch,
and the starlit sky I look at during dinner.
but I do...
Strawberry hair, hate it.
Rose lips, despise them.
Eyes that shine like stars, screw those.
How can I hate the strawberries I eat for breakfast every morning,
The rose bush I pass on my evening walk during lunch,
and the starlit sky I look at during dinner.
but I do...
Writing
Its time to share some writings here :-) enjoy
Heart On Sale by Davey GarayHeart for sale, my heart is for sale. It is broken and beaten and abused. Has pieces missing but its still a heart. Should be an easy fix for someone with the time. Selling cheap, just want it gone. No credit required.
I sold my heart, now ...its gone, buyer beware it feels too strong.
Out the door to work
Dont feel a thing, not even when stabbed with a fork.
Im free. I’m free from feeling anything.
I sold my heart and I want it back. I saw it today, fixed and happy. I miss the feeling. I have no heart to give, so im continually alone. I cant trust anyone; there is no spark. I sold my heart. I sold my spark. I sold my soul.
Ill never be free. Not without my heart.
Heart On Sale by Davey GarayHeart for sale, my heart is for sale. It is broken and beaten and abused. Has pieces missing but its still a heart. Should be an easy fix for someone with the time. Selling cheap, just want it gone. No credit required.
I sold my heart, now ...its gone, buyer beware it feels too strong.
Out the door to work
Dont feel a thing, not even when stabbed with a fork.
Im free. I’m free from feeling anything.
I sold my heart and I want it back. I saw it today, fixed and happy. I miss the feeling. I have no heart to give, so im continually alone. I cant trust anyone; there is no spark. I sold my heart. I sold my spark. I sold my soul.
Ill never be free. Not without my heart.
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