Kitchen Costuming

I will be getting back to costuming soon, as Halloween is not that far away.  I am looking forward to the cooler weather. As far as the end of summer goes, there wasn’t much going on for the Facebook writer’s group so I created a new one on WordPress.com.  Unfortunately, it is private for members only.

I wanted to share my story opening because this begins a book I will hopefully write;  it has been about three years in the preparation.

The Mushroom Tree

Zachariah stomped out of the house slamming the back door. He headed for the forest grove; his refuge and the only place he felt comfortable in this rural heartland. So many thoughts rumbled around inside his head about leaving the only friends he knew and moving from Arizona to this small Midwest community. I don’t want to live in this hick town. Why did Mom have to be the one to take care of sick old Aunt Elizabeth? When are we gonna go back home to Phoenix?

A firefly flitted over the small creek as Zachariah crossed the stone bridge and moved closer to the woodlands. A tiny glow reflected above the clear water as the firefly switched on its lamp for the coming sunset. These mystical insects reminded Zach of fairies, but at eleven, he didn’t believe in such things.

“I won’t go near the mushroom tree,” Zachariah mumbled to himself. He had sensed strange things around it that made the hair prickle on his arms and his stomach leap. The tree bark was peeled away, exposing the inner guts all sticky and oozing. Large mushrooms grew like awnings over chipped out woodpecker holes. Once he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye… no, he would not go that far as it would soon be dark.

As Zach walked farther away from the clearing, a clammy mist enveloped him. The unnatural fog seemed to have come out of nowhere, aromatic of almond butter snickerdoodles, leading him deeper through the thicket. He could barely see the winding path; the leaves crunched beneath his feet as he traveled. Calmness came over Zachariah as he felt himself disappear into the scenery. That’s how he felt most of the time…invisible.

My friend, Sarah, wanted to do a writing group on Facebook.  It has been slow coming together with our writing challenges, but I got my first story written.  Although for the Facebook group, the objective was to learn and get feedback on content.  I wasn’t happy with the way Facebook posted our stories.  Part of writing is learning how to punctuate correctly and when to use proper quotations in dialog or italics for expressing thought.  Changing paragraphs to let the reader know when another character is speaking is also part of  becoming a better writer.  Facebook allows me the content, but won’t let my story be shown as written.  For this reason I decided to post it here.

It’s All an Illusion

      Thick, dark, red blood oozed from the victim’s neck trickling onto the floor.  The pungent odor of a fresh kill wafted in the air.  “I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over,” the special effects technician quietly said as he cleaned up his wares.  I’ll show my Dad.  He never thought I would amount to anything, Jason mused.  This gig could possibly net him an Academy Award or, at the very least, lots of money.

     Just that morning, Jason and his dad discussed the freelance jobs that paid little or no money.  “You need to get a real job that pays actual cash,” said his dad.  “How are you ever going to pay your bills?  You’ve played around too long.  I can’t just let you keep living here for nothing.”  On and on, it seemed like he would just never stop, Jason’s mind kept telling him.

     Jason picked up the jagged, glistening chard of glass next to the body.  These effects props are made to look so realistic these days.  The sound stage was dark except for a filtered light streaming through a crack in the door.  Everyone had gone home for the night.  Making zombie movies and hanging around on a movie set was the best job in the world; lots of parties, booze, drugs, women, you name it.  As long as he had somewhere to crash free, he could do this until he hit the big time.

     Voices from the overnight cleanup crew penetrated the door from the outside air.  “I’ll just be a minute longer!”  Jason called out as he quickly stuffed the body next to some damp rags behind the artificial landscape trees.  He could still hear his dad’s voice in his head, Jason when are you ever going to become a responsible adult?

      “I’ve done a lot of the work around the house you wanted me to do!”  Jason yelled back at the ceiling.  “Why does it never seem to be enough?  For God’s sake, I spent all day yesterday sorting through mounds of garbage papers in the file drawers.”  Instantly, everything became quiet.  For a second he realized the night crew might have heard him.  He cleaned up quickly and looked for another exit.

     As the stage crew entered the side door, Jason slipped out the back.  His hands began to shake slightly as he reached in and pulled the folded papers from his pant’s pocket.  Again he thought about what he had done, a mistake, well maybe not.  Finding this gem was going to make the act worth it.  Luring his dad to the lot today was difficult, but necessary.  Jason lit a cigarette to calm his nerves.  There was no way he was going to let his dad cancel this life insurance policy.  I could hide out for some time on six hundred thousand dollars; maybe even begin a career in Europe.  It would be years before the authorities would catch up to me, he thought as he opened the back door and flicked in the match.