Friday, June 29, 2007


Photo by Myca Angel

At first I did not know where I was or what had happened. Everything was a dull blur, and the throbbing in my head made it difficult to concentrate. But the feeling faded and my senses began to differentiate themselves. I lay sprawled on the stone floor of a subterranean chamber. The water flowing down one of the walls caused a steady tinkling sound, not deafening, but loud enough to mask the ambient stillness. Last of all I noticed the light, the steady fluorescent glow of the blue rocks forming the walls around the spot I lay. It was a dead light, with none of the warmth of the sun, but nevertheless the temperature was comfortable.

In a flash the events of the last days passed before me: Exploring the cave. The mishap. Tripping and sliding down the incline. Losing my way. The flashlight giving out. Inching along in darkness until the blue illumination appeared in the distance. I might be miles below the Earth's surface, had no idea of how to return.

I heard the sound of bare feet splashing through the puddles where the water had paused on its way to the center of the Earth. I saw the feet, the legs and body of a stunning feminine creature. Her skin caught the glow of the rocks and reflected a sheen of pale emerald. She stood near the streaming water, collecting drops and rivulets upon her hair and shoulders. The splashes clothed her flesh in a costume of glistening wetness. I studied her in my prone position, too weak to rise, though I felt an intense desire to embrace her.

All the while her eyes never met mine. She might have been oblivious to my presence, the way she held her head in shy aversion while continuing to bask in the falling water - a sight I could not turn away from.

She revolved slowly under the gentle cascade, revealing every aspect of her physical form, ended facing me again. The deep blue of her hair, the green shimmer of skin and the pale red of her lips combined into beauty I'd never seen before. She took notice of me as I thought this, and began her approach with measured steps and motions. I wanted to rise to meet her, but still I could not. Soon she knelt beside me, placed her moist hands upon my shoulders, and bent intimately close. I thrilled at feeling her wet hair touch my skin. I felt her tongue exploring my neck, felt how soft her lips were and then the pressure of two sharp fangs as they painlessly slipped through parting skin. As she drew my blood into her mouth, the sensation was one of dizzy ecstasy, that wound the center of my entire awareness. Unable to contain the pleasure I began to moan and turn from side to side, and she continued to drink from me.

I became numb with pleasure. My vision began to cloud. I saw her rise from me, her lips much redder than they had been before. She backed away with those same measured motions that had carried her to me. But this time her eyes were fixed upon mine, in her expression a mixture of sadness and desire. As she backed into the dripping water she inclined her head shyly, invitingly. Then my head began to throb and my senses succumbed to darkness.

Story #400

Four hundred is a special number, and deserved a special photo. This photo appeared by very kind permission of Myca Angel. Myca is a hobby photographer and extremely photogenic young lady from Chile. You may enjoy her photography, and her poetic writing (in Spanish) at two Webpages: [Myca Angel] and [Siko My].

Possibly this story might be taken as a sequel to another story written to a photo by Myca - but it wasn't intentional. This only occurred to me afterward.

Thanks to everyone who contributed their creativity here!

40 comments:

myca said...

thanks for your commentary and also to present to me in this blog, hopefully we are in contact with the enemy, would be pleasing. I hope that you understand my English (it is a great profit jaja) little kisses for you

weirsdo said...

I'm glad you posted it. It is beautiful.
Thanks for putting me in your "cool bloggers" list. My fortune cookie story is a true anecdote.
I've come a long way for someone whose nickname was "Doorknob."

FUNNYMAN said...

Is it possible to translate her writing? http://wwwfunnyman.blogspot.com/

Indeterminacy said...

Myca: Thank _you_ - and thanks for the kisses. I'm a lucky guy.

Mrs. Weirsdo: Well, I really loved your fortune cookie anecdote, and that it's true makes it even more special.

Funnyman: I would love to read a really good translation of Myca's writing. I tried Babelfish which was enough to see how beautiful and poetically she writes, but not enough to understand everything.

Happy LOL Day said...

The world turned blue and she finally realized she had to stop trying to save it. It would be blue forever and only people's eyes and their hair and skin would remind them of what other colors used to be. She felt bad she had not been able to stop it and she felt guilty because blue was her favorite color and maybe she didn't feel as bad as she should.

Nora Maynard said...

She was rubbery smooth, slick and pliant. Startling to see. He pulled her from the mold and she kissed him, wet hands slipping around his neck.

“I waited….” he said.

She looked at him, eyes half-focused under magenta lashes. But then her body took on a sudden hardness. He touched her hair and it crumbled to dust.

Seren said...

With a great deal of effort, I managed to pull her naked body from the cold, raging water. It was obvious that her plunge into the flash flood was no accident. She had planned it this way.

Once I determined she was not injured, I sat her up against my tent and began rummaging for my extra blanket. I glanced at her often, but her eyes remained lowered. All I could see were long, gorgeous eyelashes, black tinged with indigo. Her body seemed to fold into itself, as if she wanted to disappear.

Locating the blanket, I draped it over her. She sighed, and the tension in her body drained away. Soon I realized she had fallen asleep.

I watched her sleep under the moonlight haze, overcome by her beauty. Why had she tried to end her life?

Dawn broke too soon.

The OE said...

There's nothing like laying down in one's own shower at the end of a long secret mission.

DW2 said...

He hurried from the upstairs with more towels. The storm had been in full swing since late afternoon and the small creek outside his cabin had swollen into an angry current. It was no wonder the poor thing had turned up at his door, wet and exhausted, its sodden coat turning the blue blanket to black.
While he wondered what (or if) to feed it, he made his way back to the den and the fire with the armload of towels. He scarcely noticed them falling to the floor when the woman looked up at him, wrapped in the blanket that had held a shaggy black dog moments before.

Riri said...

"Am just going to sit here and not wash. That'll teach them to force me to have a shower! I'll even keep my eyes closed so no water gets in!"

Anonymous said...

Nice photo. Will became nice story too.
Casino Blog

Cheesemeister said...

A SURVIVOR SUCCUMBS
No matter how long she stayed in the water, Wendy couldn't wash away the feeling of self hate that stopped her from living life. It wasn't the matter of taking some pill the doctor said would make her become closer to normal. It wasn't the matter of listening to a therapist tell her that she'd never be normal, but here were some ways that she could act so she'd pass. Deep inside, Wendy knew she was dirty, ugly and unlovable.
"You can't wash away the filth on the inside," Wendy thought.
She would never be loved. She would always be used and abandoned, just as all men had always used and abandoned her. Starting when she was very young, she must have been created simply to fulfill the pleasure of others and never receive love in return. She was worthless. And now Ellen, whom she thought was her salvation from all the horror and sorrow that had come before, had apparently used and abandoned her too.
Wendy glanced down at the straight razor sitting on the edge of the tub.

talespin said...

I woke up with relief. Dreaming was a task for me. For years I had been doing endless research attempting to do the impossible. When I woke up staring at a long and shimmering feather, I knew I was getting somewhere. That was two years ago, and I was about to give up. That was when I heard a thud from the bathroom. I couldn't allow my hopes to get up. Something must have just fallen. I looked down and saw a damp trail... It couldn't be. I walked into the bathroom and saw her, a beautiful mermaid in the filling bathtub, looking sad for the dream-sea she had been so suddenly thrust out of and forced into reality. It made me feel almost sorry for what I had done, as I didn't know how to reverse it...

jimmy lovejoy said...

it had been raining for days on end but to myca it seemed like years - she remembered that when it started she was seven years old and had been playing on the swings in the garden near her house and she remembered her mother calling out to her to come home it was going to rain she went inside and watched from her favorite window by her bed and it rained and it rained and it rained till now that she was seventy seven and it stopped she went outside and saw that the swingset had rusted and fallen over and as she looked up at the sky she heard her mother calling out myca its stopped raining you can go out to play again but be careful and come home in time for dinner

The Grocer said...

He wasn't quite ready for this one, something disturbed him, the slight smile on her lips perhaps or the small perfectly formed hands that hung limp at the end of her arms.
She was young but not a child, a life wasted? he wopndered. Yet she seemed so peaceful, serene, accepting of her death. No sign of a struggle just the water washing away the sin.
Later back at his studio he developed two sets of photographs, one for the Police and one for himself. He couldn't put his finger on it but he felt this one was special.

Irene Grumman said...

"Perdoname--forgive me--I'm sorry-- I'm so ashamed. It must be my fault. I must have done something wrong. Why would they take my clothes? Why would they put lipstick and eyelash color and hair color on me? They want to show people what I'm really like. Please. I'll never do it again."

Irene Grumman said...

I loved your secret agent fortune cookie story. Your blog is very stimulating.

Happy LOL Day said...

All of the ideas.. I wish I could see this movie now :)

************
(Oh and thank you.... coming from you it means a lot.)

Mego said...

A girl. She's been treated poorly by man after man. She's worked the corner under poor conditions. And now she's finally broken. Previously able to put all her emotions behind her, she is now insecure. She wants a dramatic change, but doesn't know how to get there. She can go home, but her roommates are all junkies. She could find her parents, but the adoption agency is the closest that she'll find. She's been kicked to the curb. She is now an old model. Obsolete. She tired. Hungry. Wet. Cold. And has nowhere to go. She feels as if she is back in her first day of kindergarten. She's scared.

LOVE AND IMMIGRATION CRIER said...

I do not find anything interesting based on the picture at all.

Live@theGrouchoClub said...

Very interesting idea you've got here. I think I'll be checking this blog out for a while.

Cirrus Spray said...

I love pictures and words, very happy to have tripped on your blog :)

Here's my story:

A bit of red, stray sprays of green and an ocean of blue. The proportions have just been adjusted. She's still wet with the many finishing touches. Water colours for a world burning in oil.

Timothy Hogan said...

She shivered as the bucket of cold well water her elder sister poured over her sliced spasms of ice down her torso and spine. Tiny remaining bubbles of soap hopped and popped on her goose-pimpled upper arms. A shudder batted her eyes before she clamped them shut against water, soap and the horror of her situation. Clean, her mind offered, cold but clean. Clean is a way of being. Eyes can open as they warm. No hurry, clean now. The Moment solidifid. She noticed her breathing.

M.P. said...

She was there all wet after the heavy rain. No shelter, no nothing.
She stepped onto a cloud and was taken to faraway lands where all was green. Actually .. she was turning green herself...
With closed eyes she let the colour get into her self.
She sensed she was going through this metamorphose but she didn't mind... It was like having a shower.
The sensation of being wet remained.. However she din't get all green. Her skin had only turned greenish, it had gotten a pale gold greenish shimmer ...
She looked for the sea.. The waves came to kiss her feet.. And... Gosh! She noticed she couldn't anymore walk! Her feet had disappeared. Instead she had now a fish tail.
She had turned into a beautiful mermaid!
She let her body slide into the green ocean and disappeared forever into the Universe of Green Shades.
Nobody has seen her ever since. She might have turned into Hope drops and be in search of a way to get back to Earth to help her fellow Humans not to forget the Paths of Imagination.

M.P. said...

Forgot to say HI! I am slowly getting back as I had told you I would. Have a nice week.

Andy said...

Wow, very interesting blog.

akshat said...

visit me me at my blog:

http://akshatslife.blogspot.com

Maree said...

Mum always said I should try harder at school. The only way out of this stinking town she reckoned. Well doing laps of the town square in Brownies Monaro was more fun at the time.
After school, my stint in retail ended abruptly when Mr Lew introduced random staff searches. �If it�s good enough for the customers, it�s good enough for you�. 3 blocks of out of date dairy milk chocolate and my name was mud.
So this morning, fresh as a daisy, bloody 5 o�clock in the morning, and it was off to the abattoir- only decent work around here and mum�s fed up with me hanging around the house. Put on a fresh blue uniform, little cap- was just like school for a second there. But then, the day spent churning chunks through a mincer and smoothing the cellophane on the packaging. Again and again. That blue uniform pink and red with spatters and my hands chilled through by the end of the day. Its in the washing machine now, churning in soft pink juice. And I�ve been in the shower 20 minutes now, scrubbing away, but I know, that smell will never come off.

Maree said...

When the water first ran out no one took it seriously. We treated it like a black out- assumed someone would turn the master switch back on. But they didn’t. It was hard to get used to- all our drinking water from the store and the prospect of those filthy communal bath houses- you don’t get clean that way.
I’ve never been one of those girls who wanted to marry well. The thought of pandering to a man to get something I want just seemed, well, pathetic. But when I met Ben in the bar tonight and he said to me he had running water at home, would I like to take a shower, the temptation was too great. He’s outside now, waiting for me- I know what is expected. But at least I’ll be clean for the first time this year.

This Is Because I Can Spell Konfusion With A K & I Like It said...

I just wanted to say that this is an amazing photo. I love how everything looks blue, and for some reason, it reminds me of the movie Secretary.

♥*

chook said...

Hi Love, are you sure you're eating well? It doesn't look like it to me. Did you get the apple pie and the new vitamins I sent you? It doesn't look as if you have seen any sun either. Remember how brown you used to get with all the swimming and lying in the sand and I used to tell you off and tell you to put sunscreen on. Now I don't know, you look so pale. And your hair! You know how I love your natural colour and with all that makeup you don't look like my little girl anymore. Your father says don't worry you're only trying to make an art photo or something but you're wet and it doesn't look as if you have any clothes on. Did you take it yourself with the timer thing on the camera. I hope so.
After you left I found the poem you wrote about summer and on the back I found another poem which I didn't really understand. It had words like blue, black, bleak and didn't sound like you at all, did that old boy friend with the black clothes write it?
We send our love of course but look after yourself.
Mum



Great site, mine is at www.artmusicfood.blogspot.com if you are interested

Indeterminacy said...

Everyone: Thank you all for the great set of stories. Mine is finished and I'll post it after it's polished a bit more. Now for the fun part, reading all the stories.....


Happy LOL Day: I like your story - I tried very hard myself to make blue the center focus of my story, which is why it took so long. I've done too many like that and it was too hard to follow that line again. But yours was just right.

Nora: Wow! I got a sense of how fleeting the right moment is. If you miss that window, everything does turn to dust. Also love the way you described her.

Seren: Your story really goes under the skin. Very sensitive, and fits the photo so well. Thank you for sharing it.

The OE: She may be double agent!

DW2: I am enjoying these stories! Never thought of something like this!

Riri: I think you are a hard woman to tame, so I would not even try.

Cheesemeister: That was very dark, but for my feeling, a true snapshot of doomed thinking. What a terrible loss of beauty. And why can't she take joy in being herself. Normal is just an arbitrary concept.

Talespin: I wish dreams worked that way, at least the nice dreams. I never thought of her as a mermaid but it fits the image so well!

Jimmy: A viginette of childhood memories - and drifting back into them in old age, that's how I understood it, but I think there are still some nuances to discover. It's very intricately written.

Grocer: That's eerie, and reminds me of some of the expressionistic stories of Georg Heym, which were very dark.

Irene: There's an innocent charm to your story - I love innocent charm. Glad you liked the cookie story. It took some thinking to figure out how to start it.

Mego: That was a chilling capture of emoition, someone at the end. I hope Myca never felt that way.

Love and Immigration Crier: Really quite stunning what you say. Who says everyone looking at a photo has to see something? My trouble in writing the story was that I saw too much and didn't know where best to start. I started about six stories before finally finding THE idea.

Live @ the Grouch Club: Hope you'll be back. Your welcome to lurk or read. Lots of people lurking now with the blog of note thing still going.

Cirrus Spray: I'm happy you landed here too! That was a strong poetic flash you wrote. I thought it was beautiful.

Timothy: You take an everyday moment and make it stunning. Like how you wrote it.

M.P.: Wonderful story! I think when I go to the sea next, I will look out and wonder if I see her.

Andy: Thank you.

Akshat: Thank you for stopping by! I'll stop by to visit too.

Maree: Two great stories! Each of them work so well. Your second story was the first with a direct sexual connotation. It worked out quite decently. I was afraid with so many people stopping by, that things might get out of hand - it turned out like the many facets of a diamond.

This is Because: Thanks for the movie tip - I will look for "Secretary" - yes I fell in love with the photo myself.

Chook: That was so imaginative! Who would have thought of a parent's perspective. Well, you did, and it rings so true! Thank you for sharing your creativity.

Frances bo bancess said...

she woke up with the haze inside her head that made her unsure on whether she was still asleep. pinching herself was no help, as she was certain that even if she was still dreaming, that she would imagine that it would hurt and so give no solid verification. there was only one real way to find out, one real test that always worked, breathing underwater. ever since she was her child, she had dreamed of the ocean and it's mysterious depths, and in these fabrications of her youthful mind, she swam unaided through the waters, breathing perfectly. As she never knew how she got to the beach, it was reasonable to assume she returned to her bed in the same manner and could, theoretically, still be asleep. She half filled the bath, swirling the liquid with her fingertips, wondering whether it would work. closing her eyes and her mind to any protesting reasoning, she plunged her head into the warm water. opening her eyes she had still not tried to take a breath, and so with no more deliberation, she allowed the water to gush into her lungs. the water tasted funny, a little metallic and something she couldn't quite describe, but she was breathing fine and she knew she was still dreaming. the bath water enveloped her, washing away her pajamas and dragging her into the depths of the bath's bowels. twisting through the unknown she felt it was more like falling, than the flying feeling that the ocean gave her. suddenly the water disappeared and she was left wet, cold and alone in a realm she hadn't visited before. she looked down at the single slipper left in her possession and wondered how she would wake up this time.

Indeterminacy said...

Frances: That was stunning! The end leaves me wondering how, and if, she will ever return. Thank you for sharing your inspiration.

Frances bo bancess said...

vampires always end up being so erotic, but this one is truly scrumptious and unique, like the writing itself.
i haven't been on in a while and was surprised in the sudden explosion of stories, keep up the wonderful writings Indie. =]

Seren said...

Mmmm, yes. I do like it very much! Vampires are yummy, especially when they are beautiful, naked, wet... (and so forth). Wonderful idea! :-)

Happy LOL Day said...

perfection.. and again, when is this film coming out? :)

Skeptic said...

Hi Indeterminacy! I love the story and pic. Really impressive. Wouldn't believe that you made a vampire out of such an angelic appearance. I'll try to make my own version. I really like yours. Frances' work is also impressive. Liked it, too.

sandra said...

Lydia waited for the growth spurt promised by her family’s aging physician. More like witch doctor. At nineteen, and only four feet tall, her beautiful head outsized her waifish body like a toddler’s. Sensitive nipple nubs remained in their pre-pubescent glory promising everything, capable of nothing. She sported a magnificent head of hair, and her snatch was similarly endowed, saving her from bobble-headed freakdom. When naked, her muff brought symmetry to her body.

Fully-clothed was another matter. Most men took one look at her and expected a denuded crevasse, another victim of Brazilian deforestation, a barren salute to unacknowledged pedophilia, a futuristic and time-saving wave goodbye to clitoral pathfinders of yore. They were dumbfounded by her bush, didn’t know what to do with it, and removed hair from their tongues with an internal shiver. Or they just didn’t go there.

“Your eyebrows,” her lover said, taking her onto his lap to rock her, their amatory prelude, “gave you away.” His breathing quickened, and he adjusted her seat so that they were both comfortable. The rocking resumed.

“My eyebrows?”

“You remained the same, but for your hair here,” he stroked her long hair, and followed the arch of her brow with his thumb, “and here.” His fingertips glided down her face, barely touching, down her nascent nipple buds, and came to rest on the springy bed of her bush, thick and lush as if fed by a secret spring, a magic elixir. Her lover’s fingers threaded the hair there, working it apart. Lydia’s head tilted back, her eyes slits in a face filled with desire. Her thighs, jump-rope tight, parted. “There it is, my lovely, the bud within the sage, the pearl of your womanhood.”

A woman. Yes.

Indeterminacy said...

Frances: I thought a long time about what to write, and finally, after chatting with a vampress, I got the idea. I'm also a big fan of Dark Shadows (a well-kept secret outside of America). Thanks for the nice things you said.

Seren: I'm almost sorry I wasn't the guy in the cave. Thanks for the compliment.

Nora: Thank you - I didn't think it was perfect, maybe as perfect as I could make it, but I think several passages could be better somehow.

Skeptic: It wasn't the first thing I thought of - but once I did, I knew how the story had to be. Thanks for the nice words.

Sandra: Your story was so steamy, like a forbidden pleasure. Really enjoyed reading it.