🔷 Recently I wrote and completed a story, the 'Silent Water', and my audience kind of like it, but at some points, a story gets a little weird. I decided to make a small and partial deconstruction of the story and explain what exactly is happening in it and yes it will deliver one small portion of me and my thoughts about the essence of secluded things.
Now, first, to deliver a basic information. The 'Silent Water' is a story that can be read under an hour ( for native readers in case they don't need to daydream above it and ruminate about all the weird details).
I am not a fan of prolonged 'sufferings', I don't like to torture my audience with 200 000 words in total, but sometimes, I agree - it is necessary if and when a writer opts in for the world building. Some stories needs that more, some a bit less.
This spoken poetry piece is inspired by the car industry, crowbar savagery, infatuated aliens and dirty anime. It is level pro, so I won't downplay a level of muddle it can instigate.
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It's been quite a while, this uncanny feeling, it's a melee. Yes, a car show is coming in town. So, enough of the care cookies and The Milk, it's time to feed the machine with some noisette and the corned beef, for the shrubs. Get the grubs. Get the popcorn. Here we go.
A standup tragedy - a trump card in a suite - exhibit one. Squawks, set your flashers all ready and sharp and observe how to polish Uncle Ben's pair of leather boots. A hairy chode, that bloke but, hey wow! -look at that body in white with the gingerbread dress-up. Sir, how do you bark? Perfection, huh? Did everyone took a snap!?
Next, a pristine trailer queen, a barn fest, cherry fresh, in stock. Wanna drag, drive a pamphlet sl...