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June 26, 2003 Since everyone needs a little break from reality and their own life, I thought I would share a story, considered nonsensical or also known as irreal fiction. Irreal fiction doesn't make you care too much about the characters and doesn't rely on "factual" or realistic storytelling. Whether you like it or not, sit back and read. Hopefully when you are finished you will sit back, think "what the???" and then go right back to your life. In my normal eight to ten hour writing day I tend to be very serious and write in the genres of horror, thriller, romance, children's, fantasy, and personal essays. Writing irreal gives me a break from the pressures of coming up with characters, plots, themes, settings, names, places, creating puzzles, and a climatic ending. It's about having fun and sharing words with another. DORAS DOINGS Among the flowers in the bed outside, a group of bugs formed an alliance with the woman of the house. Each morning she came out to over-drench her over-watered plants, she left in her wake about ten or so flattened members of their family. Discouraged, distraught, and quite disgusted, they decided enough was more than enough. Tomorrow they would seek their justice. Dora woke in the morning, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, threw on her robe, and headed outside with watering can in tote. Each and every morning she watered her plants and flowers because she loved to have a beautiful bouquet sitting in the middle of her large dining room table. Her fuzzy slippers kept her freshly painted iridescent pink toes from feeling the morning dew. The slight chill caused her to wrap her robe around her more tightly. Walking to the garden she looked up to gaze at the sky, looking for the small patch of blue she hoped was on its way to peeking out. Suddenly, without warning, she tripped and fell straight onto the damp ground. A strand or vine was quickly tied around her ankles, keeping her still for the moment. The water can, had flown a few feet before landing. Dora looked up just in time to watch it be carried off by little black insects and completely out of her view. Into her mouth, the little black insects inserted ripped and torn up pieces of newspaper. The head bug directed thirty members of his army to bring forth the toothpicks with stretched cotton and upon the cotton lay the squished bodies of Doras doings. It took her a few moments before she realized what the morbid display was trying to accomplish. Wanting to apologize she began trying to spit the wads of paper from her mouth, afraid she would swallow the latest news on clothing sales and deals on beauty supplies. The furrowed brows of the bugs told her she wasnt making a very wise choice. Quickly she spit out the rest of the paper and kept quiet. Dora lay upon the ground, fearing for her life while the bugs continued to prove their point. Bringing back her watering can she noticed it took more bugs than it did the first time. As it loomed closer she understood why, it was filled to the brim with water. Splash! Icy cold water drenched her hair, face, and chest. Within minutes all the bugs formed a line and like a parade, they walked all over the lazy lump known simply, as Dora. Okay, I get it you little varmints, Dora spat. When they felt she had learned her lesson, they left, taking the watering can with her and leaving a little ad from the paper behind that read bugs soon to take over the world, just in case she had any strange idea to do more damage anytime soon. The next morning the bugs, still unsure of the way her mind worked, watched as she left the house. They felt relief as they realized she would not be watering anything today. Gathering together they cheered as she drove away on her motorbike. Ten minutes later she returned with a large bag. Instantly the bugs felt nervous. Maybe they had gone too far and she would finish them all off with some heavy duty Raid or something. From out of the bag Dora pulled out a beautiful bunch of carnations and babys breath. Once again the cheering resumed and they celebrated their victory over Dora. Feeling empowerment, the lead bug turned his attention to her next- door neighbor Margaret, who was busily pulling weeds. Rubbing his hands together, he formulated a new plan, one that in time would conquer every human on the block. For that, he had Doras doings to thank. ------------ About the author: Nancy Jackson is a full time author and poet with works in Literati, Twilight Times, Anotherealm, Sonny World, and various anthologies. Her pasttimes include spending time with her loved ones, drinking wine, and lots of writing! Email Nancy Jackson: coryann93@yahoo.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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