Saturday, November 11, 2006

Random Bit of Prose

I've always liked the idea of being a writer, but two things have always gotten in my way. #1. Grammar #2. The fact that I never seem to be able to write more than a couple of paragraphs on a given subject. Maybe there's a market for it somewhere. But until then, here's one that I've pulled out of the vault in order to populate my posts.

There came a rumbling from deep within the ground, a sound and fury that made it seem as though the earth were going to open up below me and nothing but Dante’s Inferno would await me there. The pain was a cold slap in the face that brought me back to reality, it was my guts that were aching, it was my stomach that was growling, but nothing had ever been this bad. It felt as though my insides were waging war with the rest of me, as though they had gotten sick of the tyranny of the nervous system and they were striking back. I knew it was only a cold. I told myself over and over again that it was just the flu. I repeated the mantra until it was the truth. But something warned me that this was different, that something this time was very special. My guts were eating me alive. And it felt like it.

(Inspired by the short story "Guts" by Chuck Palahniuk)

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