Impromptu Vacation!

Mini vacation is taking place this weekend, so I won’t be around until Monday. I’ll finish up our days when that comes around.

Until then? I refresh myself!

Pushing Forward, Still…

I’m looking to make a break on Stereoport’s plotline these days. Little blips are all you’re going to get!
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Other than soccer, Carter Cameron cared about few things. He cared about music and art in a sort of nebulous way anyone in Stereoport would care about music or art. It surrounded him constantly, in the bright lights and inspired evenings. He cared about it in the way people cared about the news, about once-popular celebrity gossip. In a way, vaguely unimportant and he paid attention when someone asked him to. (Continue Reading?)

A Little Sick

Troubles, troubles. In recovery once again. Throwing up day 20 today.. Maybe I’ll be back for a proper day 21 later on tonight!

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“You know,” Carter Cameron said, looking Sarah over while they walked out of the LaundroKing at dawn, “sometimes life is more than hilarious misadventures and boring hours spent at work.” He said it like it was a new thing for him to discover. (Continue Reading?)

So Close!

Trying out strange and new sideline characters, people we may never hear from again…

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Steady Sandoval lied. Francine Duvall was not happy about it. She sat, at the edge of a north border street corner with her hands behind her back, handcuffed up. Her eyes cast down. (Continue Reading?)

Love & Love

Mostly an exercise in figuring out what Dean exactly loves about Carter.

Short. Abrupt, maybe. But I tried to get to the bottom of it…

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When Dean woke up, both eyes shot open to the light.

Carter’s weight was light next to him, back turned to him, knees folded away from him. Carter slept with his mouth half open. Always half open. His breath audible on exhale. Dean watched him carefully. (Continue Reading?)

Lucky Day!

It’s your lucky day, friends. Because I totally failed at writing today, you get a long bit of silly Carter/Dean absurdity that was sitting on my hard drive.

Enjoy!

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It was something like the middle of the afternoon.

Carter and Dean had yet to unpack to a clock in the new apartment they shared. It was a dingy little place that sat on the fifth floor of a tall building that had once been something nice and deteriorated into something bad. It was cheap enough, easy to come by, and they had a killer view of Helios II from where their window opened up to. (Continue Reading?)

Oh, Davis…

Davis is one of those characters I need to keep pulling at, keep pulling at, just to see what happens.

I have big plans for that boy…

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At the edge of what they considered the Coastal Causeway, facing the Atlantic Ocean, there was a series of patches filled with low concrete. Date nights ended there, early mornings began there and Davis sat there with Juliette at his side, flicking rocks into the water. (Continue Reading?)

Feeling Back…

One of the biggest components of the first Stereoport story I wrote a few months back was the fashion, the style. Stereoport cares a lot about style. Too much about style, probably. Because of that, I promised myself I would allow myself to go on and on and on about types of skirts and pants and what sort of colors people wear.

This isn’t about that. But it is as close as I am getting today.

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“The code of the street is understood, mostly, through the fashions of the youth.”

There are journalists living in Stereoport. There’s a tiny print broadside that gets produced every day. On the weekends, they run a double spread – half of it on clothes and music. Those who don’t live in Stereoport say it’s all the city has left. (Continue Reading?)

Into the Game…

I always imagined that Davis had a rich family life. Always with them, running up and down. A sister and a brother, like 40 cousins he loves and a mother he’s always willing to sit around and shoot the shit with.

His brother though? That little scammer. He’s lucky I like him…

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“You think you can fix it up?”

Davis stood with his eyebrow raised, both hands shoved into his pocket. The sky outside his mother’s little house was begining to darken, the sun sinking. Pinks and purples and oranges of sunset were waning to nothing but dull black. (Continue Reading?)

Another Continual…

Keeping up with the minor, meandering character studies, I’ve got one on Sarah today…

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In the daylight hours, Sarah Mackenzie worked for the German import/export trade companies. She did translating work, directed phone calls and once even took the German diplomat’s son to brunch. (Continue Reading?)