Installment 3

"So, Miss Clark, will you join me?"

I moved my mouth silently, hesitantly. He was so fun, so foreign, so...so strange. Who in their right mind would visit the 'humble abode' of a young Englishman found in the mountains of Colorado? I mean, it's not natural, I thought. Still, my mouth hung open ready to blow out an answer.

Say something! Don't stand there looking stupid!

My chin tilted up, "Yes, I will join you to your house."

My mind cringed. My mouth had misbehaved. It had betrayed me! That's not really what I wanted to do. I needed to stay and write! I needed to create if I wanted to be a fiction extraordinaire!

"Ah, splendid!" Fred cried and slapped his thigh. He grabbed my hand. He pulled me to Hound. He started to hoist me up.
"I--I--Hound won't kill me will he?" The thought rolled off my tongue passionately. There went my resolution for being completely stoic--for the fiftieth time.

"What? Oh, of course not! The Hound of Ulster is the gentlest of dogs. He would not harm a fly, unless I gave him the signal."

"Signal? Signal for what?" I gulped. Did I want to know? And why were we getting on the Hound's back?

"Oh, it is just the signal for when I want the Hound to attack. Every time I repeat the signal, his attack gets more mortal, I guess you could say. First signal, say a leg. Second signal, say the shoulder. Third, well...it is not genteel to say to a lady as yourself.

"My father gave him to me when he was just a pup, and I had to train the Hound myself. I needed a faithful guardian, and the Hound grew so large I ride him like any horse. He is quite comfortable, don't you agree?"

Fred glanced over his shoulder. I nodded. I was a little stunned. The situation was not getting anymore natural. This stuff happened in the books I wrote. Actually, I don't think I ever did get this creatively...weird.

The fur of the Hound was not silk, but tickled from the tiny curls in it. My legs swung in the air. Fred's even did. This canine was huge. He turned his dignified head to gaze at me. Nervously, I glanced down. He seemed to know what I was thinking.

Wait. No. You are imagining things, Molly, I thought. I looked back up, but the Hound had turned his head to the front again in disinterest.

"I would tuck that little notebook away if I were you. We are going to dash willy-nilly when I give the command." Fred grinned at me. Such a British smile, I thought.

I followed his order, hiding my notebook at the tan messenger bag hanging against my right leg. I tucked my hair behind my ears.

Fred Ritz leaned forward to speak into the animal's ear, and my head immediately jerked back.

What had I gotten myself into?

Chapter 2

Another round, I actually got something down. ok, so, ...saliva covered teeth...

"Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I let out the most girly, the most craven screech imaginable.
Another drop of saliva dripped onto my nose. I wanted to dash away, but the animal the chompers belonged to would have quickly chased me down. And ripped my to shreds. I gulped.
I shut my eyes. I muttered a prayer.

"What ho, Hound! What poor creature have you cornered now, hm? Ah, haha! Nothing but a girl! For shame, Hound! You do not pounce on young women! It is rude."
The young man in front of me pulled the front of his dapper coat. How stereotypical British, I thought.

"Hmm...little girl with the bonnie brown hair, what is you name?" He held out his pale hand.
I stared at it. I ruminated what I should do next. Oh yeah, take the hand for a lift up.

"My name is Molly Clark, Fiction Extraordinaire." I held my nose high, trying to act impressive.

"Well, Miss Clark, I am Fred Ritz. This is my monster of a dog, The Hound of Ulster. My mother was Irish." He gave me a wink.

"Really?" my eyes grew wide. My eyes drifted back over the looming beast. He stood like a dignified noble. The Hound put my own attempts for an imposing stance to shame. His size was imposing , too. He was an enormous wolf hound, larger than any normal dog should be. Actually, he seemed larger than any dog could be. Why, I could ride the thing like a horse! If I could ride a horse, I thought.

"Miss Clark," Fred placed his hands behind his back, "it looks like rain, tumultuous rain really. Would you like a ride for shelter at my humble abode?"

"Your 'humble abode'?" I said.

"Yes, it is but a hop-skip-and-a-jump, and we are there. And the ride is absolutely safe and exhilarating all at the same time, even if he does look a tad bit menacing." Fred glanced at The Hound. His blond hair scintillated in the the sun beams.

"So, Miss Clark, will you join me for a ride?"

Chapter 1...

Ok, here is an experiment of mine. I am going to write a little bit to this story every time I am on here to see where it leads. I am going to be just as surprised as you will be as to how this will turn out. :)




The storm billowed up on the horizen. I could tell I was in for a ride, and a rough one at that. Oh well, I thought, I enjoy a good storm. Puts some action in my life.

I took my pen and began to scribble nonsense. At least, I thought the rest of the world considered it nonsense. Who wouldn't? Take that back. A friend or two didn't. I didn't let many people read my work. I had tried branching out with my audience, and all I got was ridicule.

"Do the trees have knees?" I muttered savagely and scribbled faster. Criticism was always hard to take. I licked the inside of my teeth. Now what was that word...it meant...Oh pooh! What is it? I needed to get it down before the thunderstorm reached me.

I felt something wet on the part of my long hair. I yanked my head up. The storm was still on the horizen. What could possibly be dripping? Twisting my head up, I screeched.

I saw a mouth full of saliva covered teeth.


Hopefully, to be continued... (Though, I really don't know how.)

Lily Limerick

There once was a pure white lily,
Who acted uncommenly silly,
Then one day,
In the month of May,
She was eaten by a billy.

Just One Scene

My hands gripped the wheel. I glossed my lower lip with my tongue. I relaxed my hands on the wheel. I wiped my hand on my pants leg.

Air forced its way out of my chest. I was not the only one breathing heavy, though. A side glance. Were we ready for this?

A weak smile formed on my face, "It's like a child trying to walk, that's all it is.

But they do fall in the process." I added grimly.

Images of twisted metal imprinted themselves on my brain. Being sixteen was not as easy as I thought it was going to be.

I pushed my brown hair back. I shifted to drive. I pushed the gas.

My driving adventure had begun!

Ceaseless Being

Alright, I wrote this a while back with no editing, but I decided to put it on here.

Ceaseless Being, You control my heart still beating,
And I read You cannot retreat from my heart still beating, and You are an eternal God.
What? My heart still beating tries to mute Your pleadings, but You don't stop.
My heart still beating will follow Your leading because You never stop pleading for my heart.
My heart ne'er more to be beating for Your needing with incessant pleading for my heart to stop-- and by Yours.

July 2007

Another

Ok, the purpose of this blog is to flash my creative works of art!

Enjoy!

saved monster