Browncoat
11-08-2012, 05:36 PM
Allow me to briefly introduce myself. I'm an initiate short story writer, and although I haven't picked it up before, I really enjoy writing. English is not my first language, so please do point out whatever mistakes you come across. I'll try my best to apply any criticism in my next piece! Thank you.
For the record, this story does not promote drug use or anything similar, it was just an experimental topic :-).
Jamie and Houlun sat sunk down against a small pillar, feet across the Granite railway, mucking up that tale-telling metal. That railroad had helped lay the groundwork for today's America, and they were spoiling it with their grimy boots and unwashed shorts. The smell of skunk usurped what normally reeks "Colonial America" and slavery. They were a genuine couple of midnight marauders, these two. A strong feeling of arrogance sprung up in Jamie's mind, and he suddenly felt historically significant, like he was changing the course of Quincy or something. He was all about that - exploiting welfare, making a mess of historic artifacts and guiding his city towards prosperity.
He glanced at Houlun and didn't even make an effort to comprehend what was going on inside that degenerate Mongol's head. There wasn't really any telling what he was up to at that point, probably engulfed in the midst of his unconsciousness, letting the drug play it's trick.
Then it struck Jamie's mind that at some point in history, some happy fellow had been transporting hemp on these tracks. He toyed with the idea for a while, imagining himself in the same situation. He could envision himself being a colonist settler in 18th century America, as a conductor, a factor in the structuring of an empire. What a mighty fantasy. Too bad it wasn't true, Jameson was a slob and wasn't employed anywhere, in any century. He slid deeper down the pillar into a lying position, and eyed up the distant. Unexpectedly, a distinguishable light appeared - behind the cloud of smoke they had established, further afield, down the rail. Initially, Jamie didn't care to make much of it, but as the light approached, he managed to define it as the headlight of a train. He started sweating before he had a chance to react. In panic, he then instantly retracted his legs from the rails and punched his Mongol dealer right in the face, knocking his ushanka off his head.
"Ow!… What?"
"The ****ing train, Houlun!", he cried. The overwhelming feeling of anxiety caused Jamie to moan intensely.
"Move! It's coming right at us!"
"Wh… What is?", Houlun was bewildered.
Jamie felt like punching him in the face again, after tying him to the tracks, of course. His stupid accent really got on Jamie's nerves this time. He tried to push Houlun down the slope behind them, into a shrubbery, but to no purpose. The fat man wouldn't budge.
"The hell?!", Houlun complained. His natural response was to express his will physically, and therefore damn near hurled Jamie back onto the rails.
For a moment, Jamie thought he'd answered his final summons on account of his friend, up until he realized it - the train had vanished.
While he tried to grasp what had happened, Houlun bursted out in laughter-induced tears, and at the time, Jamie thought he had the most evil laughter.
The whole event created a massive window of opportunity for Houlun to effectively ridicule Jamie's dumbfounded ***. It made him wish the train was real and not just another dumb product of his brain gone wild. Houlun then carried on to firmly reveal that he had laced the drug they were using. He picked up his fur cap and lifted another joint out of it. Jamie thought it was ill-advised but wasn't really reluctant to submission.
For the record, this story does not promote drug use or anything similar, it was just an experimental topic :-).
Jamie and Houlun sat sunk down against a small pillar, feet across the Granite railway, mucking up that tale-telling metal. That railroad had helped lay the groundwork for today's America, and they were spoiling it with their grimy boots and unwashed shorts. The smell of skunk usurped what normally reeks "Colonial America" and slavery. They were a genuine couple of midnight marauders, these two. A strong feeling of arrogance sprung up in Jamie's mind, and he suddenly felt historically significant, like he was changing the course of Quincy or something. He was all about that - exploiting welfare, making a mess of historic artifacts and guiding his city towards prosperity.
He glanced at Houlun and didn't even make an effort to comprehend what was going on inside that degenerate Mongol's head. There wasn't really any telling what he was up to at that point, probably engulfed in the midst of his unconsciousness, letting the drug play it's trick.
Then it struck Jamie's mind that at some point in history, some happy fellow had been transporting hemp on these tracks. He toyed with the idea for a while, imagining himself in the same situation. He could envision himself being a colonist settler in 18th century America, as a conductor, a factor in the structuring of an empire. What a mighty fantasy. Too bad it wasn't true, Jameson was a slob and wasn't employed anywhere, in any century. He slid deeper down the pillar into a lying position, and eyed up the distant. Unexpectedly, a distinguishable light appeared - behind the cloud of smoke they had established, further afield, down the rail. Initially, Jamie didn't care to make much of it, but as the light approached, he managed to define it as the headlight of a train. He started sweating before he had a chance to react. In panic, he then instantly retracted his legs from the rails and punched his Mongol dealer right in the face, knocking his ushanka off his head.
"Ow!… What?"
"The ****ing train, Houlun!", he cried. The overwhelming feeling of anxiety caused Jamie to moan intensely.
"Move! It's coming right at us!"
"Wh… What is?", Houlun was bewildered.
Jamie felt like punching him in the face again, after tying him to the tracks, of course. His stupid accent really got on Jamie's nerves this time. He tried to push Houlun down the slope behind them, into a shrubbery, but to no purpose. The fat man wouldn't budge.
"The hell?!", Houlun complained. His natural response was to express his will physically, and therefore damn near hurled Jamie back onto the rails.
For a moment, Jamie thought he'd answered his final summons on account of his friend, up until he realized it - the train had vanished.
While he tried to grasp what had happened, Houlun bursted out in laughter-induced tears, and at the time, Jamie thought he had the most evil laughter.
The whole event created a massive window of opportunity for Houlun to effectively ridicule Jamie's dumbfounded ***. It made him wish the train was real and not just another dumb product of his brain gone wild. Houlun then carried on to firmly reveal that he had laced the drug they were using. He picked up his fur cap and lifted another joint out of it. Jamie thought it was ill-advised but wasn't really reluctant to submission.