she would gently chew at the inside of her cheek when pondering; her eyes focussed inward where her heart continued to hold sway.
no amount of intellectual growth could change where she was coming from – he heart [her gut] always defined whether she was wrong or right in her diagnosis of the situation.
and her heart was always right.
and her factual misdemeanours where not enough to convince me that she was wrong in trusting her heart.
and it tormented her sometimes to know she was right against all empirical evidence to the contrary.
and when she was wrong [or felt she’d made the wrong decision] she would become angry with herself; and then she’d become angry with the world.
and when she was right she would glow with happiness and enjoyment at the fruits of her labour.
and she never once said i told you so
and she never let me cross the line between being who i was and being who my ego sometimes said i was.
she was/is a goddess.
she looks out at me from the image of her face on the inner surface of my space; I cannot bring myself to animate that image, for it is only that – an image of the person I shared my life with.
the interface asks: “this font is not available on your system. do you want to use it anyway?”
i answer ‘no’ for fear of what the interface would lose in the translation.
some things are better not rendered visually.
Excerpt from MARKOV CHAIN
This voice is still in progress. I had thought the story basically finished but this character appeared last week. So I'm not exactly sure where he's going.
no amount of intellectual growth could change where she was coming from – he heart [her gut] always defined whether she was wrong or right in her diagnosis of the situation.
and her heart was always right.
and her factual misdemeanours where not enough to convince me that she was wrong in trusting her heart.
and it tormented her sometimes to know she was right against all empirical evidence to the contrary.
and when she was wrong [or felt she’d made the wrong decision] she would become angry with herself; and then she’d become angry with the world.
and when she was right she would glow with happiness and enjoyment at the fruits of her labour.
and she never once said i told you so
and she never let me cross the line between being who i was and being who my ego sometimes said i was.
she was/is a goddess.
she looks out at me from the image of her face on the inner surface of my space; I cannot bring myself to animate that image, for it is only that – an image of the person I shared my life with.
the interface asks: “this font is not available on your system. do you want to use it anyway?”
i answer ‘no’ for fear of what the interface would lose in the translation.
some things are better not rendered visually.
Excerpt from MARKOV CHAIN
This voice is still in progress. I had thought the story basically finished but this character appeared last week. So I'm not exactly sure where he's going.
2 comments:
Im likeing this one .
Once you give a character life you never know where they will go, best to follow and see, there seems to be a lot there.
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