I chose this story because it is written in an unusual style. Some of the paragraphs in the story are even made out of just one sentence. I wanted to take on the challenge of writing a story that could convey the message I wanted by utilizing a style that I am not used to writing in. I really liked writing this story and I hope you like the final product.

THE LONELY MAN

Birth

The lonely man has all odds against him from the start. His parents don’t want him. An abortion, the easy way out. The mom finally decides to have him to avoid the pit of everlasting fire. Dad leaves.

Childhood

The lonely man doesn’t have an easy childhood. He is bullied in school by those bigger than him. He tries to defend himself in vain. As he brawls more, he develops a taste for blood. He likes the fights, though he loses every time. He has no friends.

First Win

The lonely man grows suddenly taller and stronger. Those bullies from elementary school are now in high school. A different story is now in the making. The bullies try to pick on him again. After all, he won’t fight back, or so they thought. The lonely man delivers his first blow after receiving a punch in the face. The bully falls down, knocked out cold. His gang of bullies draw back in fear. He has his first successful fight. The bullies don’t mess with him again.

Mother’s Death

During the month of October his mother dies. Cancer, doctors said. He’s now lonelier than ever.

Maria

He meets Maria, who works at a dinner. He visits often, hoping she notices. One day, he finally builds up the courage to talk to her. “Hi” says the lonely man. “Fuck off!” says Maria. This breaks the lonely man’s heart. He won’t talk to another woman again.

Work

Graveyard keeper during the night, fighter at the local fight club during the day. He writes stories every now and then in between both. He loves the solitude of the graveyard and, in the ring, there’s no one by his side but his shadow. He makes some money, not enough to live comfortably though. I need another job; he says to himself every day. But the graveyard is lonely, quiet, peaceful. He likes that.

Babies

Those are the worst. People of all kinds are buried at the graveyard every day. When babies are buried, the lonely man hurts a bit inside. He steps away. Doesn’t want to be around when that happens.

Final Fight

The lonely man has an important fight. He prepares, and prepares well. The moment comes. He almost had the fight. One punch on the face, flashbacks from his childhood. He hits the canvas. Loses the fight.

Death

The night of the fight, the lonely man goes to work as usual. He sits down to take a deep breath, takes one last look at the graveyard; his sanctuary of peace and solitude. He collapses. Coroner says a blood clot in his brain took his life. He gets buried, alone. No family or friends there for his burial. He finally rests peacefully, among the graves, in the land of the dead, not so lonely anymore.

I hope you guys enjoyed today’s short story and I invite you to challenge yourself to write in a style you are not comfortable writing in. I have always said that it is amazing how, when you set your mind to it, you can accomplish things you didn’t think you could. After all, in order to grow, we need to get out of our comfort zone.

Happy writing!

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Kiss of Death

She was sexy, breathtaking. She looked at me from across the room with flirting eyes as she gently bit half of her bottom lip, inviting me to give into my desires. She was wearing a stunning red dress that match perfectly with her lipstick. Her hair was dark, just like her enigmatic eyes. I took a sip from my glass with my eyes fixed on such beauty. I was hoping the booze would calm the beast inside me, but it fueled it even more. She knew she had my attention and decided to walk towards me, slowly, almost as if calculating every step she took. Once she got to my table she sat down.

“I’m guessing no one is sitting here?” she said.

“No,” I replied.

“Great! Let’s cut to the chase,” she said as she caressed my hand still hanging on to the glass.

I couldn’t help but to admire her wonderful body and as I was getting lost in her presence, she brought me back to the conversation.

“I’ll tell you what,” she slowly pulled a coin out of her bra. “We’ll flip a coin. If you win, you get a kiss. If you lose, I’ll walk away. Heads or tails?”

“Heads,” I said.

She flipped the coin. “You win,” she said and slowly got close to me. As I was about to give into the desire, I backed away.

“I can’t.” I pointed to the ring on my left hand.

“Too bad,” she said smiling and tossed the coin at me. “Keep it until next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“It’s inevitable that we meet again, for I am death.”

I woke up abruptly from my dream, sweating, my heart racing, and noticed I was holding the exact same coin in my right hand.

I really enjoy writing short stories; maybe not as short as the Kiss of Death story but I enjoy writing them. It is important, as a writer, to let your imagination flow. That is one of the things that I like the most about writing, there are not boundaries, not limits as to where your mind can take you. However, if every now and then you set some boundaries to your writing, you might be pleasantly surprised at what you can do. I invite you to give it a try.

Like always, happy writing!

The post Kiss of Death appeared first on Project Online Publishing.

Greetings everyone.

For today’s post, I decided to share with you something that I wrote. Last year, I decided to take an Advance Creative Writing class and one of the exercises was to write a poem in response to a short story. I have never been good at writing poems, but here goes nothing. The short story that I chose is called “A Dark Brown Dog” by Stephen Crane, which was published in March of 1901. I encourage you to read the short story first so that you can better understand the poem. I hope you enjoy it.

MY FOUR-LEGGED FRIEND

I still remember how you came to me that day,

Hesitant, with a string around your neck.

Our first contact was so friendly

But your enthusiasm eventually made me scared.

I was just a child then, I didn’t know any better

That you just wanted to play with me by pulling at my sweater.

I remember that I hit you, so wrong of me to do this.

But you were so persistent and soon became my bliss.

I took you to my house not knowing what to expect.

Many times they tried to hurt you but the objects you’d deflect.

I was mean to you at times, I would hit you for no reason.

How stupid of me it was! It was almost treason.

Despite all this, you were always there for me.

You would try to show me love by putting your paw on my knee.

And one day I failed you terribly, I was scared for me as well.

My dad grabbed you violently and all I heard was when you fell.

I never forgot that day, and I promised to avenge you.

Once I grew taller and stronger, that’s when I knew.

One day that piece of crap that I once called father

Came home exceptionally drunk and again hit my mother.

I became extremely enraged and punched him in the face.

His jaw I think I broke and he left in such disgrace.

That man never came back home and for that I am so grateful.

He hurt you, me and mom, how could he be so hateful?

My heart is now at peace, my promise I fulfilled.

I carried it in my heart since the day that you were killed.

Now I look into the future with an optimistic smile.

No more fear and no more sadness, at least not for a long while.

Although years have passed in handfuls

since the last day you were here,

I want to say that I am forever grateful

For your company, love and cheer.

And in honor of that friendship that you taught me years ago,

I’ve acquired a new companion, what else? Another dog.

I promise to love him and care for him like I should have done with you,

Even when he decides to misbehave or just play with my shoe.

To my new four-legged friend, I promise not to be mean.

He will always be beside me just like you have always been.

More writing to come in future posts.

Happy writing!

The post POEM #1 MY FOUR-LEGGED FRIEND appeared first on Project Online Publishing.