I mean, we knew she was a strong, self-contained woman. Always seemed to have her shit together. You know what I mean? Didn’t need anyone hindering her search. She was always gazing into the abyss. But nowadays you couldn’t tell if she was anywhere near the black hole, inside or out, here or there. If you even looked at her sideways, she would just split an infinitive, man. She was all over the place and back, in an instant! I shit you not! You might not even know she was writing about you until you read it on her blog.
Her name is Taryn Vayl Evrwrite, but we call her Vayl. Never knew what route the lady was gonna take, or where you’d end up. She was a dynamic, prolific writer, and we loved hanging out with Vayl, –when she wasn’t tossing alphabetic musings to the wind. Dug how she hijacked regular words and fried them in the fire.
If you were able to catch a rare glance of Vayl when she dropped the comma and warped the laws of grammar, –you would see she was beyond that proper ellipses bullshit. Gal had mad skills. Could be just like the rest of us, –not knowing which way to go until somebody notices you’re struggling.
Still. She was focused on the words, and how to use them to create a new abyss of falling letters. There was no rabbit hole, no limits, no right participle, no event horizon. It was all an illusion. You could create whatever you wanted to create! That was just how she wrote. Vayl enjoyed the muse as much as the final draft….. Yeah, she was one to keep an eye on, that Vayl…
~©Jazzi Ryan Ranes~
I mean, we knew he was a strong, self-contained fellow. Always seemed to have his shit together. You know what I mean? Didn’t need anyone telling him what to do. He was always thinking one step ahead. But nowadays those steps were taking him beyond the town, beyond the county line, and out of the state. If anyone dared to spill just one word sideways, he would just split, man. He was all over the place and back, in an instant! I shit you not! You might not even know he’d already beat you at your own game unless you’d paid attention.
His name is Mountain Bear McKenzi, but we call him Bear. Never knew what route the dude was gonna take, or where you’d end up. He was a dynamic, dark comedian, and we loved hanging out with the Mountain Bear, –when he wasn’t busy messing with somebody’s day. Dug how he flipped off common notions and threw them in the fire.
If you were able to catch a rare glance of Bear when he split the misconceptions and warped the brains of many, –you would see he was beyond that everyday normal bullshit. Bro had mad skills. Could be just like the rest of us, –not knowing which way to go until somebody notices you’re struggling.
Still. He was focused on the road, and how to use that to destroy the concept of home. There was no one place, no location, no country, no boundaries, no cage. It was all an illusion. You could go wherever you wanted to go! That’s how we knew him to be. Bear dug the journey as much as the destination. Yeah, he was one determined fellow, that Mountain Bear.
~©Jazzi Ryan Ranes~
I mean, we knew he was a strong, self-contained fellow. Always seemed to have his shit together. You know what I mean? Didn’t need anyone glancing his way. He was always thinking outside the box. But nowadays you couldn’t tell if he was anywhere near the box, alive or dead, here or there. If you even looked at him sideways, he would just split, man. He was all over the place and back, in an instant! I shit you not! You might not even know he was back in the hood until you looked away.
We called him Schroedinger, Roady for short. Never knew what path the dude was gonna take, or where you’d end up. He was dynamic and unpredictable, but we loved hanging out with Roady, –when he wasn’t warping the space-time continuum. Dug how he took the fucking box and threw it in the fire.
If you were able to catch a rare glance of Roady when he split the infinitive, and warped the laws of physics, –you would see he was beyond that quantum process bullshit. Bro had mad skills. Could be just like the rest of us, –not knowing which way to go until somebody notices you’re struggling.
Still. He was focused on the imaginary box, and how to use that to shred the concept of duality. There was no symmetry, no wave, no particle, no Faraday cage. It was all an illusion. It was whatever you wanted it to be! That’s what we thought he meant anyhow. Yeah, he was one intuitive fellow, that Roady.
~©Jazzi Ryan Ranes~
Now it was time to go back to the shop and clean up the sawdust. Half used ideas lay scattered on the floor and partially sawed words littered the work table. There was a messy pile of shitty ideas tossed in one corner, and I thought I would throw them in the junk drawer with the half used batteries. Maybe they still had a little juice in them I could use if I didn’t forget where they were.
Run on sentences and grammatical errors were stacked neatly to one side. These could be fixed, and there was no need to throw them in the trash. I grabbed my broom and began to sweep up the misspelled words and scraps of unrealized thoughts. Something was missing, and I gazed at the work table for a moment. There, behind a poorly shaped paragraph, lay a tight, square paragraph that I had almost missed. I slipped it in my pocket to work on later. I had to clean up the mess I had made here before I could turn around and make another.
I scooped up the pile I would discard and threw it in the bin. There were still dusty letters lying here and there, but they were bothering no one, and maybe I would need them later. I patted my breast pocket to make sure the word packet was still there and turned to leave the room. I took one last glance before I turned out the light. The sawdust had been cleared, and the editing process could begin. I was satisfied. I turned out the thoughts, closed the door, and lay down to sleep.
~© Jazzi Ryan Ranes~
Darla’s new perfume, Gravity, bought yesterday was the most intoxicating aroma she’d ever smelled. It would be perfect with an evening gown but today Darla put on jeans and a sweater. Thinking that maybe she should watch her expenses for perfume closer, Darla brushed out her hair and shoving her feet into a pair of slippers, made her way down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. As she brewed the tea she caught the heady scent of the perfume she’d applied a few moments ago and began to prepare some toast. Just as the teapot began to whistle, Darla swooned and fainted, falling to the cold marble of the kitchen floor.
Coming to a couple of minutes later, Darla pushed herself up off the floor wondering why she had passed out. Rubbing her glazed eyes, Darla heard the teapot screaming and hurried to turn off the burner. The toast was burnt, brown stubs and as she threw them out again caught a whiff of the fragrance drifting up. Feeling light-headed, she grabbed the edge of the counter for support. A headache began to tear through her skull and she began to stagger back up the stairs when the pain grew worse. Grasping the railing, Darla looked down at her feet. They weren’t touching the landing. She was levitating higher and higher and her fingers lost their grip. As Darla drew a breath to scream, she again caught the lovely aroma of her new perfume and plunged twenty-five feet to the floor as Gravity took over.
~©Jazzi Ryan Ranes~