90. Control
31 Sunday Jan 2016
Posted Fragments
in31 Sunday Jan 2016
Posted Fragments
in30 Saturday Jan 2016
Posted Essai
inTags
Thème: le double (double)
Ça fait une semaine que je n’ai rien écrit. Cette histoire me glisse entre les doigts. Tout file, comme les grains de sable imaginaires au bout des doigts. J’aimerais tant que tu puisses te mettre à ma place, ou même juste t’imaginer ce que ça pouvait être d’avoir tant d’aspirations et d’idées, mais de ne pas être en mesure de les mettre en branle. Parce que la peur, la foutue peur y est pour quelque chose. Cette impression constante d’être dans un horrible cours d’eau nauséabond et de tenter par tous les moyens de gagner la rive avant que la saleté me gangrène. Qu’elle m’absorbe toute entière. D’y laisser ma peau tout en y ressortant ravagée de trous pestilentiels. L’impression de posséder tout, mais de ne rien être en mesure de transformer. L’inéluctable défaite d’un Moi trop tourmenté, souvent malmené.
29 Friday Jan 2016
Posted Pensées/ Thoughts
inTags
Thème : La peur (fear)
Enfouis au centre de la mémoire, ils semblaient inaccessibles. Pourtant, elle savait le chemin à prendre pour leur accéder. Simplement, son subconscient se refusait à lui obéir. Elle avait passé des années à soigneusement enterrer toute trace de ces événements déchirants de son esprit. Ce n’était pas une tâche aisée, mais elle avait recours à divers stratagèmes afin d’y parvenir.
28 Thursday Jan 2016
Posted Poésie/ Poetry
inThème souvenirs (memories)
le bitume craque et se fend
sous la pression diluvienne
des chairs consumées de l’intérieur
— le sentiment depuis longtemps renié
du réconfort pourtant si familier
qui devient nôtre, peu à peu
se fondant aux habitudes
nouvellement acquises
le béton nouvellement coulé
se liquéfie et se parsème
de tous les éclats
27 Wednesday Jan 2016
Posted Nouvelle/ Short story
inPrompt: skeleton (squelette)
The skeleton key had to work. In four minutes and 33 seconds, according to his calculations, the police would be there. Gavin had to get into her safe, get the phone and get the hell out of Dodge before all hell broke loose. Fortunately, he had brought his kit with him. Kneeling in front of the safe, he extracted a thin cable from the kit and plugged it into the keyhole while the other end was plugged into the device encased into the kit. Feeling his anxiety growing, he feverishly adjusted three little gears on the bottom of the device.
Ages later, he heard the familiar click. A quick glance at his watch proved to him that only a minute and a half passed by. Carefully, he grabbed a hold of the door with one hand and its handle with the other, pulling it slowly toward him. With a creaking noise that seemed to resonate throughout the whole building, the door jerked open. There it was, the treasure Gavin has been hunting: a little stack of non-consecutive notes, jewellery, passports, a gun and the phone. Or so Gavin thought because as he picked it up, it slipped from his gloved fingers and thumped on the floor. It was covered in a red and pink sludge. There was also a picture of him wearing his black motorcycle jacket, dark red flannel shirt and… exactly the same outfit and haircut that he had today.
How the fuck did that end up in the safe of someone who has been dead for three days?
26 Tuesday Jan 2016
Posted Prose
inThème : séparation (separation)
C’était le pire sentiment. Pire que l’abandon, pire que l’ignorance. Le sentiment d’être complètement perdue dans un corps que l’on ne connaît pas, dans un univers qui nous apparaît hostile. La séparation des deux composantes les plus importantes; une liquéfaction du moi qui laisse place à l’abîme, nous réclamant.
25 Monday Jan 2016
Tags
Prompt : letter (lettre)
Cassius series, episode 10
Folding back the letter, Cassius pinched her nose with a long sigh of relief. Chuck finally came through. On the night they went to The Cellar Door, he showed them his recent shipping of arms and threw in a Beretta fully equipped. The serial number was, of course, filed off. Cassius did not really need it, but she acknowledged the gesture nonetheless. She appreciated Lexie’s tactfulness when it came to refuse Chuck’s obvious advances on her. She voiced her worry that it would spoil their professional relationship in such a way that he had no choice but to agree with her.
– So, started Lexie, is it good or bad news?
– Good. Chuck gave us enough information to put that bastard Volenska away for a long fucking time.
They resorted to an ancient method: handwritten letters. Because there was no recent technology that could allow a potential spy to track down their exchanges. Cassius fished her Zippo out of her pocket and lit the folded paper, careful to let its ashes fall into the ashtray on the table.
– I think it’s time you pour us one, Lexie.
– The good stuff?
– The good stuff.
Lexie smiled and went over to the liquor cabinet/bar and poured them two… three fingers each of Té Bheag scotch.
– This is the good stuff?
– Yes. Well, the slightly less better stuff. The other one we finished last week. Remember? You said that you were in that type of mood… Lexie finished with a cocky smile.
– Ahhh. Yes, indeed I do remember. Quite clearly. It was very… satisfying.
Cassius felt the warmth of her cheeks at the same time that she felt the familiar pang down below.
– No need to get shy, love. It’s perfectly natural. Lexie pushed a bit, just to make Cassius react. But Cassius was not born yesterday.
The other woman just winked at Lexie, taking a sip of her drink.
– How do we find this guy? Cassius asked, all playfulness gone out of her tone.
24 Sunday Jan 2016
Posted Pensées/ Thoughts
inPrompt : Pregnancy (grossesse)
It wasn’t something you expected to happen suddenly. As if one evening you were OK and the next morning all hell broke loose. It was very hard for her to make that choice. In fact, it was the hardest decision she made in her life. It was as if she had her layers of defence torn off, one by one. Like a rose without any thorn; shaved off of her body without even a smidgen of consent. Her sanity was gone out of the window as fell. Or so she thought. In fact, she was pretty sure of it.
23 Saturday Jan 2016
Posted Pensées/ Thoughts
inPrompt : The true you (le Soi réel)
L’inspiration était au plus bas, ces jours-ci. Elle ne comprenait pas pourquoi c’était le cas. Peut-être était-ce parce que les préoccupations lui rongeaient la concentration? Peut-être était-ce seulement un manque de motivation? Une muse distance, ou la réorientation latente de ses méthodes de création. La mise en place d’un nouveau système. La révélation du soi nouveau. Un soi authentique : le Soi réel.
22 Friday Jan 2016
Posted Fragments
in