I had to write a two sentence story for Creative Writing. Turns out I’m not that creative.
“The Chameleon”
I am “The Chameleon”; no I’m not some superhero who can change the colour of their skin to suit the environment nor am I that weird lizard-like creature which can do the same thing.
I am the spy who can blend in with a crowd and be seen but not seen, I am the person who can melt into walls and disappear; I am the person who can slip down dark alleys never to be seen again and this is why I have earned the name “The Chameleon”.
Reality
Reality is a straight line fullof truth and what there is, never changing, just a ladder whereas belief is a curved line bending aroung what we know.
This is where we get adventure.
Accent
He was Australian but he had an American accent.
He was thirty but he had spent two weeks in America when he was sixteen.
Pirate
I’d like to be a pirate.
But then I’d be a pirate-ninja-zombie-lawyer-hippie-chef and that would be stupid.
This Is My Dream
The two brothers fought valiantly with their swords against a foe that outnumbered them tremendously, but now it was becoming apparent to the younger one that the enemy was gaining ground as they grew weary. Noticing his brother’s obvious concern and fatigue, big brother looked over smiling and said, “Don’t worry bro, this is my dream and we’re gonna win!”
Catalogue
I have a catalogue of every beautiful thing that exists.
(You’re on page 388372.)
It’s not you, it’s me
He thought of all the possible reasons to stay: the sex, her ability to just quietly listen when he had to pour out his heart, her timeless smile, her soft, pliant body, the sex, the way she was always there for him, the sex…
“Look, we’ve had some fun times, and you’re great and everything, but I’ve met someone real,” he said to the blow-up doll.
Drifted Passage
She held my hand and took me there, to her city in the sky, with its long twisting streets paved with heavy shadows that’d stick to the souls of your feet and leave echoing footsteps of flickering silhouettes.
I got lost up there, winding through the back alleys of her city where rainforests climbed up the sides of glass-walled skyscrapers, and deep canyons were lined with mass-transit trains built from the smooth golden pieces of great ancient clocks, gears spinning in the dappled sunlight that broken in through the high-voltage power lines and lush canopy of greenery; I got lost, and never returned home again.
Maps
When he checked his spam folder he saw one email that read, I miss you. He moved it to his inbox, but did not open it.
Black Ice Day
What is the man in front doing? Screech, turn, panic, safe.
Football
Fucking Australia and all the fucking obsession with fucking sport!
“Some football player has sustained a papercut and is in doubt for this weekend, also three billion people have died from an unknown virus, BUT AGAIN, SOME FOOTBALL PLAYER HAS SUSTAINED A PAPERCUT!”
Bowling
After they caught me, they buried me in a bowling lane with only my head on the surface, sitting amongst the pins. I try to close my eyes, but I can’t, because I recognize the ball coming towards me and I can see that it wishes there was somewhere else it could go.
Icy.
Only two out of a thousand say yes, aye, but none are worth the time. That’s why you drink — you drink so that most of your tears (and piss) evaporates, so that you won’t freeze when given the cold shoulder.
Jazz
He claimed he like jazz.
He only said it to sound cool.
Flying
I can’t go out today.
I ran out of flying-dog spray.
Secret
Yes we spent months hollowing out giant rocks and fitting them with tiny video screens.
Yes we’re preparing for something but it’s a secret.
Scoring
I’ve changed the variables I use to measure my life.
Currently I’m scoring in blog posts.
Crook
A crooked hook of moon hangs in sky, shapely and sharp as the curve of my fillet knife. The woman rolls her BMW into the carport and flips off the headlights; show time.
The Breaks
Rachel broke my heart. Her husband broke my knees.