Post by Spirk on Dec 7, 2004 18:14:45 GMT -5
The Castle
By
R.M. Carroll
The picture sat on his desk and he couldn’t help but stare at it. There was nothing fancy about it, just a picture taken of some old castle at dusk, yet there was something alluring to it, something that drew him in and made him want to start typing like a madman on his word processor.
Jimmy Demond was a good writer, he wasn’t a great writer, he would never be Stephen King or his hero, Clive Barker, but he still had enough talent that he had gained a small internet following for his works. He had been blocked though, writers block they called it, but to him it was more of a curse. He knew what he wanted to write, could picture it in his mind, but when it came write down to it he couldn’t get the goddamn words down on the screen. He thought he was going to go mad as his frustration grew at not being able to write.
Then the envelope had come, the manila folder with no return address on it, only his name and address on the front and the photo of the old castle inside. He had looked at the photo for a moment and had tossed it onto the desk as he searched the envelope for a letter or an explanation. But there had been nothing else inside, only the generic photo of the generic castle.
“Bloody hell.” He muttered as he threw the envelope away, he didn’t give the photo a second thought as he sat down in front of the computer and tried to put his words down in type but nothing was there. The image of the castle popped into his mind again as he looked down at his hands stationed on the keyboard, ready to type. Jimmy looked up and glanced over at the table where he had tossed the photo and shrugged his shoulders.
“Why not.” He muttered as he got up and picked up the photo and looked at it again. There was something in the very corner of the picture that he hadn’t remembered being there before, a smudge like there someone had put their thumb on the edge of the camera’s lens. It didn’t really matter, it added to the photo her realized, it made it all look a little less generic, a little less like a post card.
Jimmy carried the photo back to his computer desk and sat down in his chair, his long blonde hair fell forward, cascaded down both sides of his face as he looked down at the picture that now lay in his lap. He had only taken his eyes off of it for a moment but now there was the slightest hint of moonlight as it fell down across the very corner of the castle.
“That’s not possible.” He whispered as he stared at the photo. “I must have just missed that little detail at first glance.” He set the photo down on the corner of his desk as for the first time in two weeks his muse seemed to speak to him. A story was forming in his mind, a story about an abandoned castle and the things that lived there. With a smile on his lips Jimmy Lemond started to write again for the first time in two weeks.
**
Two weeks had passed since Jimmy had received the mysterious photo in the mail. He had spent every waking hour away from work writing about this new world he had created based around that one lone photo. He noticed that things were a bit different every time he looked at the photo but he didn’t care, he was so happy with his writing that he paid no attention to the fact that day had come to the castle, followed by night and day once more. At one point it was raining glumly during an afternoon shot from the photo but none of it mattered to Jimmy, all that mattered was the story, and the success he had achieved based on it. He was even going to be published, and get paid for it to boot!
It was that night, as he pulled his chair up to his computer desk, the photo, framed and placed in a spot where he could see it with just a sideways glance, had changed in a way he’d never seen before. Tonight, there was a light in one of the castle windows. Jimmy hesitated for a moment, he felt unsure for the first time since he had started writing. The photo had always been that of an empty castle, now someone was in residence and it changed the dynamic of the photo. He wasn’t sure of what he was doing but he felt the need to touch the photo, to hold it in his hand and not look at it from behind glass. He reached for the frame; his trembling fingers shook as he popped the clasps around the felt backing and let it fall to the floor as the photo slid out and into his hands.
“Jesus!” He yelped as he dropped the photo. It was hot to the touch! As he watched it float to the floor he noticed that the backer it had been resting against was singed and burned as well. He watched the path of the photo as it landed gently on the floor at his feet. It didn’t so much land on the floor as it sank into it, melted into it.
“Dear God what is going on?” Jimmy whined as he watched the photo slowly start to spread out across his floor as the floorboards turned from wood to stone. It spread quicker as it gained momentum. His furniture quickly vanished as the stone spread deeper through his apartment. The walls were next, as all windows in his apartment vanished behind stone walls. Sconces and torches appeared in place of the lamps he had stationed throughout the apartment.
It was over in a moment, his apartment had vanished, his computer was gone, the only thing that remained the same was himself. He turned in a slow circle, his mouth hung open, his eyes wide. He was inside of the castle; he knew that instinctively, he was inside of that lit room within the picture. His foot slid from under him as he looked down to see what he had stepped on. It was a generic looking photo, of a generic looking apartment, his apartment.
By
R.M. Carroll
The picture sat on his desk and he couldn’t help but stare at it. There was nothing fancy about it, just a picture taken of some old castle at dusk, yet there was something alluring to it, something that drew him in and made him want to start typing like a madman on his word processor.
Jimmy Demond was a good writer, he wasn’t a great writer, he would never be Stephen King or his hero, Clive Barker, but he still had enough talent that he had gained a small internet following for his works. He had been blocked though, writers block they called it, but to him it was more of a curse. He knew what he wanted to write, could picture it in his mind, but when it came write down to it he couldn’t get the goddamn words down on the screen. He thought he was going to go mad as his frustration grew at not being able to write.
Then the envelope had come, the manila folder with no return address on it, only his name and address on the front and the photo of the old castle inside. He had looked at the photo for a moment and had tossed it onto the desk as he searched the envelope for a letter or an explanation. But there had been nothing else inside, only the generic photo of the generic castle.
“Bloody hell.” He muttered as he threw the envelope away, he didn’t give the photo a second thought as he sat down in front of the computer and tried to put his words down in type but nothing was there. The image of the castle popped into his mind again as he looked down at his hands stationed on the keyboard, ready to type. Jimmy looked up and glanced over at the table where he had tossed the photo and shrugged his shoulders.
“Why not.” He muttered as he got up and picked up the photo and looked at it again. There was something in the very corner of the picture that he hadn’t remembered being there before, a smudge like there someone had put their thumb on the edge of the camera’s lens. It didn’t really matter, it added to the photo her realized, it made it all look a little less generic, a little less like a post card.
Jimmy carried the photo back to his computer desk and sat down in his chair, his long blonde hair fell forward, cascaded down both sides of his face as he looked down at the picture that now lay in his lap. He had only taken his eyes off of it for a moment but now there was the slightest hint of moonlight as it fell down across the very corner of the castle.
“That’s not possible.” He whispered as he stared at the photo. “I must have just missed that little detail at first glance.” He set the photo down on the corner of his desk as for the first time in two weeks his muse seemed to speak to him. A story was forming in his mind, a story about an abandoned castle and the things that lived there. With a smile on his lips Jimmy Lemond started to write again for the first time in two weeks.
**
Two weeks had passed since Jimmy had received the mysterious photo in the mail. He had spent every waking hour away from work writing about this new world he had created based around that one lone photo. He noticed that things were a bit different every time he looked at the photo but he didn’t care, he was so happy with his writing that he paid no attention to the fact that day had come to the castle, followed by night and day once more. At one point it was raining glumly during an afternoon shot from the photo but none of it mattered to Jimmy, all that mattered was the story, and the success he had achieved based on it. He was even going to be published, and get paid for it to boot!
It was that night, as he pulled his chair up to his computer desk, the photo, framed and placed in a spot where he could see it with just a sideways glance, had changed in a way he’d never seen before. Tonight, there was a light in one of the castle windows. Jimmy hesitated for a moment, he felt unsure for the first time since he had started writing. The photo had always been that of an empty castle, now someone was in residence and it changed the dynamic of the photo. He wasn’t sure of what he was doing but he felt the need to touch the photo, to hold it in his hand and not look at it from behind glass. He reached for the frame; his trembling fingers shook as he popped the clasps around the felt backing and let it fall to the floor as the photo slid out and into his hands.
“Jesus!” He yelped as he dropped the photo. It was hot to the touch! As he watched it float to the floor he noticed that the backer it had been resting against was singed and burned as well. He watched the path of the photo as it landed gently on the floor at his feet. It didn’t so much land on the floor as it sank into it, melted into it.
“Dear God what is going on?” Jimmy whined as he watched the photo slowly start to spread out across his floor as the floorboards turned from wood to stone. It spread quicker as it gained momentum. His furniture quickly vanished as the stone spread deeper through his apartment. The walls were next, as all windows in his apartment vanished behind stone walls. Sconces and torches appeared in place of the lamps he had stationed throughout the apartment.
It was over in a moment, his apartment had vanished, his computer was gone, the only thing that remained the same was himself. He turned in a slow circle, his mouth hung open, his eyes wide. He was inside of the castle; he knew that instinctively, he was inside of that lit room within the picture. His foot slid from under him as he looked down to see what he had stepped on. It was a generic looking photo, of a generic looking apartment, his apartment.