We found a little nook hidden up, back, behind, and within the gigantic penile sand structures. My friend and I settled ourselves on pink sand that hadn't been touched since the last load of school kids had been bused in on bright yellow buses. Middle-school-sized footprints ran around the space, light pouring through from a skylight in the rock directly above us. Another small window in the putty-colored rock just next to us revealed the angles of jutting sandstone all around.
I pulled out a 1/4-inch socket from a socket-wrench set out of my jean cutoffs pocket. The set was part of some crap tool kit I kept for emergencies. My sister, Natalie, had given me that set as a Christmas gift a couple years earlier. The quarter-inch socket was never intact. I always hoped I'd never need it, because the inside of it was coated with resin, and I wasn't ever quite sure how it'd handle doing the real work of a socket.
My friend drew out a lighter. The pipe was already loaded. I simultaneously handed it to her and set down my camera. She was a friend that rarely ever smoked, and my room mate had grown this stuff himself. We got thoroughly stoned, and then we heard voices from below. I peaked out the window next to us. Not much to see--- rock blocking our view. I threw some gum in my mouth and we exited back the way we came, descending down a narrow trail back onto the valley floor of the goblins.
Kids from junior high, probably from some desert suburb an hour or two drive away supplied the voices we'd heard. They giggled and strolled in huddled groups or ran round and round the valley. Their shoes leaving marks looking like moon boots in moon sand. We began to have a game with them, shooting their pictures, darting past the goblin penile sentries. After awhile we realized that the goblin sentries themselves were much more interesting than pubescent astronauts, and that's when we began shooting and cataloging them instead. And when we were sick of being stoned and playing games, we left the valley and went away. That day it was easy to get out of the Desert.
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8 comments:
It's a little hard to understand but the word play is very good and descriptive.
I really liked the details of your story it kept me interested the whole time. Little hard to understand at first.
I really enjoyed this, you have a great style. One thing that you might add would be how this changed or affected you
Yea! I'm not the only one who wrote about drug crazed malfeasance. All I would change is make it longer. More of what you saw. You've got colorful language perfect for describing the details.
I like the use of images, especially the foot print from a moonboot.
Good work. The first youtube link was a but jarring, however, I was left wondering if there was irony intended or if "yellow buses" was the only link between the story and the video. Make sure you have some intention with your links. I think your other ones worked much better, though the one to the pipes came, perhaps, to early, as I was unaware that your socket was being used as a pipe at that particular point in the story.
I'd also think about embedding images in your post instead of just linking to them. I think that a small image of the lunar footprint might work better than having to follow the link then come back to the story.
For Monday work on bringing the desert out a bit more, and rework the section about the socket. I think both have lovely imagery, but could use some polish on the narrative side of things.
You mentioned in class that you thought that the beginning was a bit vague. To be honest, I like that part, it lends a bit of mystery to the story and makes me want to find out what you're up to. I'd like to hear a bit more about how you felt during the various incidents throughout the story. For example, when you heard the voices from below, were you scared someone might catch you, or could you tell it was just a bunch of school kids? I think this would help to tell us about you and how you perceived the events.
Hey thanks for all the input. I included Bill because that is what I was actually listening to. And it's definitely the wierdest song on the album. Did you notice I tweaked the percentage? I'm sure you meant to go the other way, but I liked the idea of the honky cracker that wishes he was Indian. Just a bullshit excuse for, uh.. a trip.
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