eyedreamism_iii eyedream It rang. “Hello?” I said, in the soft, strained, growl voice of someone suddenly awoken. “It’s me…it’s me.” Oh, there it was. There it was! The sound of violins that always invades you when you are crying.The sound of violins is equivalent to a young child disintegrating into thin, sharp slices, which would flutter to the ground. Oh, how extraordinary. How perfect of Ethan. “What’s wrong, mon petit?” I asked. He choked a small cry. “I can’t do this.” My brain shot off a pistol. He moves into his new apartment next week, affirmative? “The move,” he wailed despairingly, stretching out the vowel like a three-year-old. Ah, yes. Affirmed. The move. My brain then slipped silently into the nether-regions of my skull, leaving me with only my feminine je-ne-sais-quoi to handle the operation, and this was tarnished with sleep. “Ethan…” “There’s too much,” he said. “I can’t—I don’t—” He choked. “Mon petit,” I crooned softly. “My little one. Where are you right now?” “Sitting on your front steps.” “Jesus Christ! Hold on.” I slid from my bed, skipping across the cold floor to the wild blue mohair carpet, unlocking the door. “Come up. But I’m warning you now, and I mean this on a more serious level than the old-women television programs; I’m not dressed decently.” “Okay,” he said softly. I heard the thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump of feet usually light and agile, but now heavy with world-weariness, taking twenty-four steps two at a time. Then…nothing. Nothing? Affirmative? My brain moaned with the effort. “Ethan?” I said into the phone. He replied not into his phone, but right against the wood of my door. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m a mess. I’ll come by tomorrow.” This optimistic ending of his spent the last of his effort, I could sense it. If I didn’t do something it was possible that he would die right now, slumped in front of my door, from emotional exhaustion. I opened the door quietly. His clothes were rumpled but the only real cause for alarm were the tears streaming over his skin. Oh, here I am finding his pain endearing and this man is at my door crying right in front of me. He has come to me because he is so alone and frightened he doesn’t know anyone else to go to. He is even breaking a gender stereotype in the process. And I am finding this amusing? In that moment, I felt so utterly inept and useless with his pain that I almost imploded. Oh, god, Ethan, don’t you see how helpless I am with you? I stepped into the hallway light. “Oh—my—I didn’t realize you were going to be...” He frantically tried to gain composure. “Maybe I should go—I can handle this myself…” Then he broke down completely into tears. His sobs were so loud, so unrestrained, so impassioned, that I blushed slightly. I looked at him, standing before me having a breakdown as though I weren’t even there. I was embarrassed by my own appearance and considering making a getaway, when my je-ne-sais-quoi suddenly dashed in late, slamming the door behind it, and I folded my body into Ethan’s, pressing his head to my skin and gripping him with an overwhelming abundant love that was foreign to me. In my bed I curled around him and over him, until his face was dry. Then we lay side by side, staring upwards. I felt his hand rise and then then he placed his palm on my bare stomach. Of all the places he may have put a hand, he chose my stomach. My stomach, rather than dirtier alternatives. Self-conscious, I attempted an apology for my… “Nakedness,” he said, patting my stomach happily. “And I think you are very decent.” fears your reaction 030820 ... eyedream ALTERNATIVE ENDING It rang. “Hello?” I said, in the soft, strained, growl voice of someone suddenly awoken. “It’s me…it’s me.” Oh, there it was. There it was! The sound of violins that always invades you when you are crying.The sound of violins is equivalent to a young child disintegrating into thin, sharp slices, which would flutter to the ground. Oh, how extraordinary. How perfect of Ethan. “What’s wrong, mon petit?” I asked. He choked a small cry. “I can’t do this.” My brain shot off a pistol. He moves into his new apartment next week, affirmative? “The move,” he wailed despairingly, stretching out the vowel like a three-year-old. Ah, yes. Affirmed. The move. My brain then slipped silently into the nether-regions of my skull, leaving me with only my feminine je-ne-sais-quoi to handle the operation, and this was tarnished with sleep. “Ethan…” “There’s too much,” he said. “I can’t—I don’t—” He choked. “Mon petit,” I crooned softly. “My little one. Where are you right now?” “Sitting on your front steps.” “Jesus Christ! Hold on.” I slid from my bed, skipping across the cold floor to the wild blue mohair carpet, unlocking the door. “Come up. But I’m warning you now, and I mean this on a more serious level than the old-women television programs; I’m not dressed decently.” “Okay,” he said softly. I heard the thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump of feet usually light and agile, but now heavy with world-weariness, taking twenty-four steps two at a time. Then…nothing. Nothing? Affirmative? My brain moaned with the effort. “Ethan?” I said into the phone. He replied not into his phone, but right against the wood of my door. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m a mess. I’ll come by tomorrow.” This optimistic ending of his spent the last of his effort, I could sense it. If I didn’t do something it was possible that he would die right now, slumped in front of my door, from emotional exhaustion. I opened the door quietly. His clothes were rumpled but the only real cause for alarm were the tears streaming over his skin. Oh, here I am finding his pain endearing and this man is at my door crying right in front of me. He has come to me because he is so alone and frightened he doesn’t know anyone else to go to. He is even breaking a gender stereotype in the process. And I am finding this amusing? In that moment, I felt so utterly inept and useless with his pain that I almost imploded. Oh, god, Ethan, don’t you see how helpless I am with you? I stepped into the hallway light. “Oh—my—I didn’t realize you were going to be...” He frantically tried to gain composure. “Maybe I should go—I can handle this myself…” Then he broke down completely into tears. His sobs were so loud, so unrestrained, so impassioned, that I blushed slightly. I looked at him, standing before me having a breakdown as though I weren’t even there. I was embarrassed by my own appearance and considering making a getaway, when my je-ne-sais-quoi suddenly dashed in late, slamming the door behind it, and I folded my body into Ethan’s, pressing his head to my skin and gripping him with an overwhelming abundant love that was foreign to me. In my bed I curled around him and over him, until his face was dry. Then we lay side by side, staring upwards. I felt his hand rise and then then he placed his palm on my bare stomach. Of all the places he may have put a hand, he chose my stomach. My stomach, rather than dirtier alternatives. Self-conscious, I attempted an apology for my… “Nakedness,” he said, patting my stomach happily. “And I think you are very decent, Sidney.” likes this better 030820 ... ferret *loves it just as much as the first* 030820 ... ferret you're going to write a book. and it's going to be a national bestseller and every store in the nation will have it in stock all the time. because people will keep on buying it. they will buy it, read it, then buy it again because it's so good that once you touch it's pages it's ruined. so they have to buy new copies. over and over again. and then you'll write a sequal. and the same will happen. and you'll make millions, maybe billions. :) 030820 ... eyedream It'll have to be a short book because I don't have much of a work ethic. And I am not that good a writer. thanks you for the condiment 030820 ... Rowbes is more than pleased 030820 ... eyedream Really? Every time I write another Eyedreamism I am overwhelmed by this sense of terror that I will have ruined it. is nervous 030820 ... Dafremen Well I AM a good writer(although my punctuation, syntax and grammar are for sh*t..ok so I'm a crappy writer, but mother says I'm pretty and that's all that mat..oh sob sob..boo boo it's true I stink. I suck. I'm worthless! (sniff) Where was I? Oh yea I'm a good writer ) and I say that if you ever DO decide to write a book I'd be more than happy to be your editor. It would be a fairly easy job except for the jump-starting you in the ass to meet a deadline part. (At least if you say that's a problem, I'll take your word for it.) 030820 ... eyedream What do editors do, exactly? Let me guess: tell you when you are too lost in your work to see that you are making horrendous mistakes. would love for you to be her editor 030820 ... Dafremen Editors make you hate them by forcing you to get it right even when you think they're wrong. Mine drives me nuts, but he's a perfectionist and a nit picker and that's the kind of person that helps you put out excellent work. Makes you wanna kick their teeth in and hug em all at the same time. Where are you vincy you big bear? I need a hug man. 030820 ... eyedream What do you write? 030820 ... Dafremen Poetry. Little stories. Stuff. : ) See poems_for_you 030820 ... eyedream I think you need to bring more ugliness into your poetry. It seems almost as though you are denying it. Does that make sense? guesses 030820 ... Dafremen You obviously didn't read piece_of_work asian_eyes your_biggest_fan I'm an optimist by trade anyhow. Life's too good to pass up. Sides, yer characters always end up naked. Perhaps you're avoiding clothing? : ) (Just funnin') 030820 ... eyedream I did read asian_eyes, back when it was in the recent list. But it's not ugliness. It's still told prettily. It loses some rawness that way. Nevertheless I found it really good. I had no intention of making Sidney naked. She just...ended up that way. I have some ideas for Eyedreamism_iv, and the way I see it, there will be no nudity. In fact, Sidney may not be in it at all, or at least not in the actively-in-the-plot sense, and I'm bringing in another character, although a minor one. Any thoughts? asks 030820 ... oldephebe really good stuff eDream - i'm all out of superlatives but your words held my temporal lobes captive - a nice breezy and yet compelling style - and the whole thing about the violin analogy - quintessence - sheer quintessence - and no i just didn't unfurl that because i haven't used quintessence in a sentence for eons, its just the right thing to say about your wonderful imagery - i'm going to endeavor to read the previous eyedreamism sagas (sagas is not really the right word but as i said i'm all out of superlatives and adjectives and stuff - ) l a t e r ... 030820 ... x she had all that time... i can't help but wonder why she couldn't have at least put on a bathrobe by the time he got there 030820 ... endless desire whatever you do, eyedream, it will be beautiful. i envy you and your ability to come up with such wonderful stories. patiently awaits the next eyedreamism. 030820 ... Dafremen Now wait just a damned minute! As your idioter I would like to state for the record that I did NOT mean to imply that you get rid of the nudity. No..not by any means, hell girl it's how you write about naked people that draws in the crowds of which I am still a proud member. I'm just staying you leave my weepy, sappy, sentimental bleeding heart tendencies out of this and I'll understand if you make naked people your trademark signature..like John Woo's two fisted gun wielding action hero or Stephen King's tie-in to his beloved state of Maine. Yea.. 030820 ... Dafremen -idioter +editor I'll find a proofreader too. ; ) 030820 ... 0 maybe she didn't put a bathrobe on because she wanted to be torturous or something like that, who knows? 030820 ... eyedream I don't think it occured to Sidney completely that Ethan would see her naked. I think that her grogginess caused the thought to bubble up, but it didn't really register. THANK YOU all for the compliments! I am overwhelmingly flattered. I didn't like this one at all after I wrote it, until I added some things and took out others, and then even then I wasn't sure. Now I am sure about my next one, but I'm scared that since I wasn't sure about the others, it means that this next one will be awful. None of them felt quite like the original eyedreamism, that one just swam out of me like it was there, already written, all along. I had no control over it. is genuine 030820 ... Bespeckled I think the sentence, "My stomach, rather than dirtier alternatives" isn't needed. I enjoyed the story. 030821 ... User24 cool. you like to keep us in suspense. I preferred the first ending, perhaps because it was the first that I read. eyedreamism_ii is probally my favorite so far. I await the 4th installment. and don't worry, you won't ruin it. says keep writing! 030821 ... Dafremen I preferred the first ending as well. 030821 ... ferret i too enjoyed the second eyedreamism the best, perhaps it was because it was the first i read, and i can asociate with it the most, i don't know, but i liked the first the second best, and the third the third best, but i loved them all. 030821 ... once again I love them all... they're all so beautiful and real. Please make more. 030821 ... screwing for virginity im not clever with words, so to put it bluntly: i loved it...every word was exactly what and where it needed to be. 030823 ... Death of a Rose applause from the fans behind me. 031101 ... randomly recent you shocked us with a sudden outpouring of literary talent. ! 040125 what's it to you? who go blather from