Collide-o-scope Eyes part 5

This is a part of the Collide-o-scope Eyes series. Click here if to read part 1

Wednesday morning at 5 o'clock as the day begins. Woke up, fell out of bed. Dragged a comb across my head. Went downstairs and had a cup. Looking up, i noticed i was late. Late for what?
I forgot i was out of the case. I need to do something to let the time pass. I shot my wall. Why the fuck did i do that?
I was fixing a hole where the bullet went in to stop my mind from wandering. Boredom can make a man mad. The idle mind is the devil's playground, and all that jazzy shit. It doesn't really matter when i'm wrong, i know i'm right. That Lady Madonna was behind all this. Shit.
My mobile rang. Unknown number. Let me guess, the Walrus?
"Hello? Walrus? Is that you?"
"No. It's me, Mr. Kite."
"My mistake. What is it? For you to know, i'm out of the case, so don't bother me with anything related to it."
"Oh, it's nothing about that. I don't really care about the money. It can't buy me love. Lady Madonna proved to me that."
"Heh." That was all i could say.
"Cheeky bastard. Get over here, i've got something to show you."
"You're going nowhere, man. What are you talking about?"
"Something."
"I'll be on my way."
He hung up.

Okey, what the fuck was that all about? I'm sick and tired of riddles. I don't want to look through a glass onion again. FUCK. My mind was a mess.

Found my coat and grabbed my hat. Good thing i caught the bus. My car had a flat.
This is gonna be a long and winding road.

to be continued

Collide-o-scope Eyes part 4

this is part 4 of Collide-o-scope Eyes. To read the beginning, click here.

I woke up in a hospital bed. The pretty nurse was selling poppies from a tray. Why the fuck was she doing that anyway?
Aside from the nurse, no one else was there. The nurse went out of the room. I'm all alone now. I really need some Coca-cola right now.

Sgt. Pepper entered the room, with a basket of green apples in hand. The damn blue meanie, he knows i fucking hate green apples. Fuckwit.
"I read the news today."
"Oh boy." I knew he was joking. He NEVER reads the newspaper. He'd rather hear it from the barber on Penny Lane.
"So, how are Hal?"
"I'm in a damn hospital bed, damn it. Isn't it obvious? I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY DAMN BLOODY LIFE!" No, i wasn't using sarcasm in that remark. I really was enjoying myself in the hospital bed. Gotta get myself some relaxation. Might even start a revolution from here.
"Fuck you. Well, any developments on the Mr. Kite case?"
"Lady Madonna. That's what. Go after her. She confessed."
"On record?"
"N-no." SHIT!
"We've got nothing then. You're out of the case. Get well soon." He left the room. I couldn't say anything after that. Shit.

*****

After a week in the hospital, i went straight home. It's been a hard days night, and i've been working like a bitch. Shit shit shit shit shit.
I lay in bed again. I give up.

to be continued.

Collide-o-scope Eyes part 3

This is part 3. Follow the links to Part 1 and Part 2. Enjoy.

I woke up on a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies, tied up. No one was around, except for Lady Madonna. I saw her standing there by the riverbank. She's got a ticket to ride outta this place, never to be seen again.
"Why the fuck are you doing this, Lady?!" i scream. That reminds me, what flavour ice cream should i get today? Rocky road?
She took out a radio and started to play a song. It's a bit dark, and a tad out of key.
"What the hell is that?"
"It's only a northern song. It brings back memories of yesterday..." a tear drops from her eyes.
"Fred Kite used to be my lover." she uttered, almost crying. She wasn't crying though. Tears, yes. Crying, no. There's a difference between the two.
That still doesn't explain anything. So what if Fred Kite used to be her lover? Oh fuck. Is he the father of all her children? Good gum, that old fucker can really fertilize an egg.
"You needed compensation from him? That doesn't make sense. Where'd you get your money years ago? The money's just recently got stolen." Hell, nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing ever does.
"IT'S NOTHING TO GET HUNG ABOUT! Just fuck off and die." She shot the boat. Pretty good shot. There's a hole now. I started to twist and shout. Fuck. Reminds me of that damn song. She left the damn scene. The boat is sinking. I managed to wiggle my way out of the ropes. I put my hands up and shouted for help. Fuck, i can't swim with my boots on. I don't know how. Why did i have to wear boots today?
Everything went blurry.
Everything went blank.

*****

I woke up in what appears to be a garden. I was under the shade of a tree. I was soaked. My grey fedora ruined. I need a new one. I coughed out water.
"You alright young man?" I heard an old familiar voice say. It was Mr. Kite.
"Come together now. Take it easy." He knows it ain't easy. He helped me rest my back on the tree. I felt weak. I need to go home and make myself feel alright.
"I'm going home." I forced myself to stand, but my knees were too weak to support myself. I feel on the grass. Mr. Kite helped me get up.
I was dumbfounded. Must be the lack of oxygen. I needed some coca-cola.
"Can ya get me a bottle of Coke?" That was a bit shameless. He left my side and went to get me one. Nice man. I drank to the last drop. That was refreshing. Damn it, i sound like an endorser. Fuck.
"What the hell were you thinking, young man?" Hell, i wasn't thinking. I closed my eyes. Living is easy with eyes closed.
I dreamed.

to be continued

Collide-o-scope Eyes

Picture yourself on a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, to a guy drowning before your eyes.
That's what i saw.

I wore my grey fedora again, forgetting that odd things happen when i wear it. Subconsciously, i wanted something to happen.
I am a really bored fucker.
I was eating a sandwich by the park, alone. Kids were everywhere. Running around, like they were high. Turns out, they were not children. They were circus midgets, and very high for a person of their stature. My phone vibrated. I never use a ringtone. Too annoying, too battery-consuming, and too noisy for sneaking around.
It was my boss, Sarge Pepper. I still remember meeting him for the first time 20 years ago today. He taught me the stuff i know about the trade, but he was a fucking terrible teacher.
"Hey Hal." (were you expecting Hey Jude?)
"Hey. What do you want now? It's my lunch break."
"I've got a case for you. You know the Mr. Kite Benefit?"
I know that benefit. I donate at least a dollar to that every month. "Yeah. Why?" I took a sip of my Coke.
"Funding got stolen. Clean swipe."
I spit my drink in a spray. "WHAT?" I can't believe it. That money was supposed to be for the orphanage down Strawberry Fields.
"I'll e-mail you the details." Sarge said. I'm still in shock. I took a bite of my sandwich. I hung up.
E-mail received.

I went to Mr. Kite's house. It was a nice one. Across the street, i saw four damn hippie looking guys crossing the street, all in a line. And why is that one guy barefoot?
I rang the door bell. It was one of those old school door bells that had actual bells.
No answer.
I rang again.
Still no answer.
Then, i heard footsteps approaching the door.
"I'm coming! Damn it, can't a 64 year old man get some rest?" He was right. I came to his house at an inappropriate time. Why do i go to places at midnight?
He answered the door. He looked at me with his cataract eyes. This was Mr. Fred Kite himself. Not a dime of the charity he ran went to him, clearly.
"May i ask you a few questions, sir?"
"Yer asking one right now. What is it? Are ya sellin' girl scout cookies?"
"No, it's about your charity. The Mr. Kite Benefit."
"Oh, that. Yeah, that. Please, come in. Coffee or tea?"
" I shoot Coca-cola, please."
"Weird little kid."

He told me he hasn't been involved with the charity since he retired. How can one be retired? Are you tired once and get tired again?
He told me to go to his former assistant, Jeremy Hilary. He now took charge of the whole thing, collection and all.
I went to his house, which was just next door to old Fred's house. A strange stench came to my senses. Blood.
I broke the door. There he was, bathing in his own blood. Dead. Obviously.

The trail grew dead. Fuck.
My phone vibrated.

to be continued.

Collide-o-scope Eyes part 6

This is part of a series (obviously). To catch up, read the previous parts.

I have finally arrived at Mr. Kite's place. Lot's of parked cars. Odd.
I got inside without knocking. I've got a bad feeling. A feeling deep inside. A feeling i can't hide. Not a soul in sight. The lights were on, but no body was there. I said "Anybody home?!". No reply.Something is amiss here.
I was expecting an ambush. I reached for my gun. I need to be happy. Happiness is a warm gun, after all. Nothing happened.

*****

Almost an hour passed. I made myself comfortable on the recliner. Even helped my self to a Coke from the fridge. Where the fuck is everyone?
I decided to leave. Well, i had to finish my Coke first.
I turned off the lights before i left. Save energy and whatnot. As i stepped outside, all the cars were gone. The only one left was mine. How the hell did this happen? Why didn't i hear a thing? Fuck. Someone is messing with me.

My phone rang. It was Lady Madonna.

to be continued.

I Can't Think of a Title

I have decided to write normal blogs in between posts of Collide-o-scope Eyes. Don't worry though, consider it a break in the routine. Besides, writing fiction is hard business, so writing non-fiction gives me a breather.


Fiction mainly revolves around making shit up (obviously), and making "good" shit up is a hard thing to do if you're stressed. Or tired. Or uninspired. Or bored. Or disturbed (not crazy/disturbed, but pestered/disturbed). Or angry.
Non-fiction on the other hand, is a bit fairly easier to write. One reason: it's real, and you can't make reality stuff up (unless you work for reality shows). Just honesty, that's all. I have one problem though, my reality and fiction usually get mixed up. I'm not even sure if this is real.

That is all.

The Ghostwriter

Collide-o-scope Eyes part 2

This is part 2. If you want to read part 1, click here

Who could be calling me at this unholy hour? Hell, any hour is unholy.
I answered the call. Nothing.
I was about the hang up, then, a muffled voice came from the speaker.
"HEY HAL..."
"He... Hell... Hello." I stammered in reply. That was creepy.
"Who are you? How'd you know my name and number?"
"I AM THE WALRUS." And i'm the Eggman. Very funny.
"IT ISN'T IMPORTANT HOW I GOT YOUR NUMBER, BUT WHY. I CAN HELP YOU." He might be right. I needed all the help i could get. I needed somebody. Hell, anybody.
"Okey. Come on, spill the beans."
"SITTING IN AN ENGLISH GARDEN, WAITING FOR THE SUN."
He hung up. What the fuck was that?

*****

I went home. It was 3 in the morning, and the sun still hasn't come up. I need another Coke.
I recalled to myself what that fucker said, 'sitting in an english garden, waiting for the sun'. What does he mean by that? Realization dawns at me. Find a fucking english garden, fucktard. Only one person in this whole city owned one, and that person was Lady Madonna. Royalty, but very close to the masses. What does she have to do with this?

I ran all the way to her mansion. I had to break in at the backyard, surely i won't be invited to parties at her estate anytime soon. There she was, sitting in her english garden, surrounded by cellophane flowers of yellow and green, waiting for the sun.
" Lady Madonna, may i ask you a few questions?"
"What are you doing in here? GUARDS!" Oh fuck.
"Please, i mean no harm!" I showed her my badge, to show her i'm on her side. Guards came in, but she immediately sent them away. Damn blue meanies.
"So, what is it that you want, detective?" She said. The sun still hasn't risen.
"I want answers. With so many children, how do manage to make ends meet? Who makes the money? Who pays the rent?" She was living the big life, but she doesn't have a job, or a husband, or anything. Why the fuck is she fucking rich in the first place?
Wait, she's royalty. I fucking forgot that.
"I'll tell you. But not now. Here comes the sun, it's alright." She said.
I saw the sun rise. It was beautiful.
I went unconscious.

to be continued.

Non Fiction (For Now)

I have decided that i won't be writing any fiction for a while on my blog. I'm still finishing a script for some sequential art (read: comics), so, it might intervene with my creative process (read: hour upon hour of idiocy).
Don't worry though, Collide-o-scope Eyes will continue. It's nearing the end. Trust me.

That is all.

PS
I almost forgot, i also started using my deviantART account again. I'm ~hushmyst over there, if you were wondering. Don't expect much. I still haven't put a lot of artwork there.

Alright, that really IS it.

PSS
I almost forgot. Again.
I have created an account on Wordpress, so do watch out.
Note:
1. I won't be leaving this blog. This will still be my main blog.
2. The wordpress account would be for something else. Mainly graphics, photographs, and drawings.
3. I really need to go.

The Ghostwriter

I'm Back. (i think)

Ladies and gentlemen, i apologize for my long absence from the blogosphere. This is due to a number of reasons too many to enumerate, such as lack of proper web access and being very busy.
Do not worry dear readers, i WILL and MUST continue Collide-o-scope Eyes, as soon as i further fix things. Excited, aren't ya?
Well, i believe that is all. Everything is said, and i now bid you all farewell for now.

The Ghostwriter