Found the following snippet floating in an old file, so played around with it today. It's a creative response to a The Cowboy Junkies song, Bea's Song (River Song Trilogy: Part ll). Lyrics to the song follow the story snippet.
For those that were following my recent attempt at re-booting writing, I did finish a draft of the story for the winning story start. I'll post it here in a bit.
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Bea’s River
I stood by that river
in Colorado for a good long while, listening to the rhythmic burble of it: up and over, up and over, up and over the
rocks, on the rocks, on the rocks, up and over the rocks. A bird of prey
circled overhead. When he caught the highest loft and disappeared over the
scrawny pines, the music ended and I leaned over to untie my hiking boots.
An old Peanuts cartoon
has Charlie Brown telling his sister before a big game that he always puts his
right sock and shoe on first, and then his left sock and shoe, for luck. His
sister pauses for a minute, and then asks, “What kind of luck?” The last panel
shows shoeless Charlie Brown staring at his feet.
My first barefoot step
into the water (up and over, cold! cold!)
forced an inhale, but as my reddening feet settled into the coarse sand at the shore,
the shock fell into numb.
Behind me, John swore
under his wheezy breath, closing the car door not quite hard enough, so it
clicked only once, not twice to latch.
“My keys, you have
them?”
I wiggled my toes. They
responded, but as from a distance. I felt the gritty texture of sand, but
nothing else. Up and over. Up and over. The
rocks. The rocks. On the rocks.
I held out my arm and
dangled the keys from my hand, rattling them maraca-like.
“Why didn’t you say
so?” The clawing crunch of his footsteps approached steadily until he slid
slightly at the two-foot drop off near the river’s edge, the stumble marring the beat.
“You’ll turn blue,”
“Color me Neptune,” I
said, and turned from the waist to toss him the keys. They flew up and over
light slanting through trees, skipping rope with sunbeams.
“You look at the moon
and the stars more often then you look into my eyes,” he said
He was right, of
course, but I didn't want the conversation or the life he wanted to have. And so
I said nothing, cradling our illusions in simple rhythms.
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Bea's Song (River Song Trilogy: Part ll)
Songwriter: TIMMINS, MICHAEL EDWARD.
Speed river at my feet running low and
flat
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
Thinking about the past
And that distance out there
Where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side, but he's sitting on firmer ground
John says I look at the moon and the stars
These days more often than I look into his eyes
And I can't disagree so I don't say nothing
I just stare on past his face at venus rising,
Like a shining speck of hope hanging over the horizon
With each passing year that I sit here
That horizon seems to inch just that much nearer
And all that appears on it seems as clear as spit
But if there's one thing in my life
That these years have taught
It's that you can always see it coming
But you can never stop it
Speed river at my feet running low and flat
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
Thinking about the past
And that distance out there
Where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side,
But he's not noticing that I'm drowning
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side,
But he's not noticing that I'm drowning
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
Thinking about the past
And that distance out there
Where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side, but he's sitting on firmer ground
John says I look at the moon and the stars
These days more often than I look into his eyes
And I can't disagree so I don't say nothing
I just stare on past his face at venus rising,
Like a shining speck of hope hanging over the horizon
With each passing year that I sit here
That horizon seems to inch just that much nearer
And all that appears on it seems as clear as spit
But if there's one thing in my life
That these years have taught
It's that you can always see it coming
But you can never stop it
Speed river at my feet running low and flat
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
Thinking about the past
And that distance out there
Where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side,
But he's not noticing that I'm drowning
The slightest move and this river mud
Pulls me further down
John's at my side,
But he's not noticing that I'm drowning
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