I had an idea for this one... kinda... and a little after the fact. Sooo... actually, I guess it's not just for this one. I'm also not sure it would work either. I thought; 'Hey, what if I show the progression of the psyche of my main character by journal entries?' It could work... I could start out in a quasi-sane literary style and as time progresses; I could make it either more convoluted, or screwy. Like I could go from first person entries to third person... or something. Normal everyday lingo, to a Medieval styled poetic angst. An everyday conversational tone to a methodical rhyme and meter... who knows. It's at least something to think about. Any who.
To escape the conversation of the locals, she walked out of the building and headed for the car. The night proved to be a typical one of the region, arm and muggy. So she stealthily slipped off her cardigan without removing the bag now slung across her body. Caring not that if anyone were about at this late hour, they would see her spots and button at the absence of cloth that was the back of her halter dress. Wiping the bugs away with her newly removed cardigan from the side of the car, she quickly got in to wait for her party to realize she'd left, and then join her. While she waited she pondered the existence of the tiny almost transparent teeny white bugs that now decorated the outside of her window. They had tiny feelers that were continuously twitching as they hung on to the side of the car in the light. One bug had gotten inside the vehicle and was menacingly twittering against the window in a feeble attempt to reach the outside. As she methodically squashed it with the heel of her hand and wiped it's remains on the carpet, her party finally reached the car and opened the door. Still in full conversation with the locals, they were backing in. Not wanting to seem in too much of a hurry so as to be thought of as rude, but to still give off a hint to her passenger. She stuck the key into the ignition loudly, and kept her hand there. Waiting for her first opportunity to turn it... Her party; still slowly moving in the direction of an exit from their current company, finally sat and had a hand on the door. she turned the key and they finally said their goodbyes as the door shut. Not giving in to her impatience she made time to wave goodbye as their recent company retreated back indoors, before kicking the car into reverse and high tailing it out of there. This was one place she loathed to come back to. she desperately did not enjoy the company of these former and long winded hippies who barely gave her a smidgen of respect and failed to hint at common decency towards her. Sh did not look forward to her necessary return the following week for the collection of the project she'd needed to mission them for. But this was the only place to find what she needed without having to go the extreme measures. As she turned the corner, she thought; 'These measures seem pretty extreme.'
And here's some more of my lovely idea towards a beginning... perhaps I'll incorporate flash backs... if I do use the journal entries, perhaps I won't use only journal entries. Maybe I'll have a general narrative, and incorporate the journal entries for the purpose of letting us see into our 'heroines' mind... or not. Here's a one liner type flashback either way.
She had thought of the idea as menacing. Secretly the idea was growing on her. She dared not make this known though. For in the past; everything she could see coming to pass, with he minds eye, didn't ever come to fruition.
Just a little something... Was Superman a Vampire?... 'More powerful than a locomotive... Faster than a speeding bullet... able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.... It's a bird, it's a plane, it's... Edward Cullen?'
His stares continued to plague me for sometime, unwavering... Until I realized the screen had frozen.
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