The East Is A Delicate MatterEXT. FRONTIER TOWN, ASIAN STEPPE, 1923. HIGH NOONThe East Is A Delicate Matter
An extreme long shot looks over the town and the arid wastelands. A convoy is moving towards the settlement, kicking up clouds of dust. The Soviet national anthem is played non-diegetic over the scene, secondary to the diegetic sounds.
The camera cuts to a medium shot of the front of the convoy, showing the MERCENARY COMMANDER in his car, then panning the whole convoy as it advances along a bumpy road. The dozen open-top trucks are full of MERCENARIES, chatting and drinking.
A close-up shot shows YURI in one of the trucks downing vodka, being egged on. &
MistThe enveloping mist, Suffocating but gossamer to the hand, Intangible and yet unstoppable, Snaking through the winding alleys, And blotting out the darkness, Dancing down wide avenues, And creeping upon the shadows. An empyrean hand, Holding an incorporeal dagger, Crawling down the elysian fields Snuffing the lighted city, Reaping its befouled treasures. A decadent host gasps in awe, And shrieks in terror, At the embodiment, And the antithesis, The enveloping mist, The terrible spectre, The Fantômas.Mist
10:30AM"So you wanna split a Kid’s Meal"? Paul graciously offers "I’ve got a coupon."10:30AM
"No thanks..." I trail "I want some real breakfast."
"Fine suit yourself." It’s surprisingly packed for a Friday morning. Me and Paul wait in line for close to ten minutes before our till closes and we have to wait another five minutes in the next line over before Paul gets a chance to order. He gets his Meal in ten seconds flat but ends up squabbling for a couple more minutes about the validity of his coupon and expiry dates and stuff. His last ditch attempt at a Jedi mind trick shows no sign of its working so he quickl
Behind That DoorIn the late 1850’s the newspaper magnate of France, Pierre D’sicci, and his wife, the Marie D’sicci lived in a grand house in the Bordeaux countryside. Pierre was rich, with much power in high places and had a beautiful wife yet he was not happy. She was unfaithful to him. Pierre had to travel to far off Paris to run his media empire, and was away much of the time, but he knew what was going on, he even knew his wife’s lover, a young man by the name of Herbert Gaulle, he had been told by both his servants and many friends, it was gossip in the top social circles. Gaulle was a local aristocrat, he was young, dashing, with long black hair and pBehind That Door
Argh
Bloody tired
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website:
thanks a bunch for the comments and for the +fav - they made my day.
i really liked "10:30am" (lol... maybe its just because i hate fastfood... but that was pretty funny stuff. i'm sure a lot of us can relate to an experience like that. kudos, for the creativity, originality, humor, and overall good writing ^_^. )
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Go to my photogallery at [link]
Thanks for commenting on my work, I know my grammar ain't too good its something I'm trying to work on, good to know you found 10:30AM funny.
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"Try everything once, except for Line-Dancing or Incest"- Anon (Me if anyone asks)
"This calls for a very special blend of pyschology and extreme violence"- Vyvyan
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