Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Sample passage from my Gritty Real-World Spiritual Fiction Adventure book to be finished this year!


A passage from Chapter 3 of my second book, to be finished this year called, 
"This is it."

Enjoy!


3



"777, huh," he said aloud to himself as he walked up to the bus stop, "the bus should be the quickest way to the docks." He got on and quickly sat in the first open seat he saw, the vehicle was fairly crowded, and he didn't venture for eye contact among the sea of empty faces. "Only 5 stops, not too bad," Shanyn thought. He found the closest open window to look out of and gazed towards it. As his gaze began to glaze over, he felt himself zone out.
             Suddenly his attention narrowed to a sharp vortex as he heard the voice. It was coming from behind him in the next row, her, the weird old lady from the previous evening. But what really peaked his attention as they continued conversing behind him, was what they were saying. He felt like he was in the twilight zone, she was talking about being in this oneness, like she referred to with Shanyn just the night before. He listened, it seemed interesting to him.
              "It permeates all things everywhere," she spoke enthusiastically, kind of odd for those around her, noticeable by their expressions, as they glared at her judgmentally. As if completely unaware of her ignorant onlookers, she spoke with quiet confidence, "There is no place that it is not, for you see, it is everything, but even though it is everything, it is also nothing."
            "Lady, I don't know where you escaped from, but I hope they find you soon," the sharp attack, viciously ignorant, flew from the mouth of the overly-self-assured-wanna-be-gangster seated across from her. Shanyn wondered what she would say as he tried to figure out what she was saying to begin with.
            "They can find me any where; all they have to do is open their eyes, just like you, my young friend. Anything you search for is right here in front of you. Are you sure you can't see it?" she questioned the thug with such solemn patience, totally void of frustration, or anger. Her voice still filled with a joy that Shanyn just didn't get. It was so alien to him; he just sat there, intently listening.
             "All I can see lady, is that you are full of shit," with that he jumped up, stared her down for a moment, as if to intimidate the harmless elderly woman, then quickly threw his shoulders forward to try to make her flinch. She didn't even blink, her eyes transfixed on him with perfect understanding. Complete and total peace emanated from the mysterious mistress as she acknowledged her confronter. The young black teenager stood up straight, confused at what was occurring right before his very eyes. The people on the bus all looked on now, yet with an odd sense of detachment, as if they were watching television. Shanyn kept vigilant, knowing he would try to step in if the boy became physical.
              Then the young gangster-in-training reacted in a most peculiar way. His maliciously intent stare slowly faded. His face went placid and he seemed genuinely at peace for a moment. It was almost as if she had spread whatever it was she was immersed in with him, because it was apparently working. He smiled at her in a way that suggested sincere gratitude, as if she had released all of his inner pain or something. As always, in typical New York tradition, no one around them noticed a thing. Everyone except Shanyn didn't, anyway. He wondered if she just perpetually perused the city, freeing random souls with open-ended ideas and bliss inducing stares.
              The boy sat down and gave the grandmotherly person his full, undivided attention. She softly cleared her throat and began, "The best part of this Oneness is that it will never run out, being everything and all. It is pure peace to know there is no end and that everything you think you know is an illusion; just endless cycles, form to form from form to form from form to form, etc. etcetera, ad infinitum. If we can close our mind enough, the conscious "cluttered" collection of thoughts we call a mind, then it will all be revealed in one eternal peace to this piece of our relativized reality so just be it now, there is nothing else to know..."
          Shanyn felt the words echo through his quieted mind, feeling at ease and vulnerable towards her. It frightened yet intrigued him as he sat there listening to the illumined rant as she went on and on. He swore he could feel the peace just emanate from her in waves of pulsing energy. He looked up when the bus stopped again, as if he had just stepped back into reality. "Shit, it figures," he torted to himself as he noticed that the bus was already one stop past where he wanted to be. With that realization, he snapped back to full consciousness and leaped towards the bus doors. "At least it's only four blocks, it could have been far worse."\
As he looked down the road he could see the docks in the distance.  He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was 1:17.  Quickening his pace over a couple steps he wondered what the place would look like.  Was it a shady, dark place, cold and damp?  Or is it a clean and warm set up almost seeming too nice to be a warehouse?  He visualized the two scenarios as he came up to the last block now.  He could see it clearly now, the large 777, high up on the corner of the building.   High walls made the sevens look almost menacing on the side of the warehouse.  The place’s height created a shadowed area to the left of the doors.

            He walked up the steps quickly, two at a time and reached to open the door.  It was locked.  He knocked, and it echoed faintly in the distance.  The smells of rotting fish and putrid sea air lit up his nostrils in a deep breath.  “Nothing like the East River,” he thought as he waited patiently.  The darkness of the alley created an odd effect for Shanyn as he glanced up to see blue skies and fluffy white clouds meandering overhead gently through the air.
“Kreeeeeeeee! Boom!” the door assaulted his ears as it slowly opened.  “Who are you?” spouted an abrupt, raspy deep voice as a man emerged from the shadowy interior.  The distinct voice revealed him as the man from the telephone.  An almost monstrous mountain of a person, he stood just under the top of the doorway and peered down at Shanyn with eyes that seemed weathered beyond their years. 
“I called about the job,” Shanyn said with a smile on his face, trying to hide the serious uneasiness the man’s daunting figure posed to his smaller stature.  “I’m here to speak to the supervisor; I think I spoke to you on the phone.  The name’s Shanyn,” and he reached out his hand to try to break the tension he sensed was growing.
The man looked at his hand coldly, then said, “Follow me.”  With that he pushed the doors open further, turned around and went back down the steps he had just come up.  As he ventured after him through the doorway the room opened up like a cathedral.  The warehouse walls just rose up and up to the smaller rectangular windows near the roof.  Sunlight poured through the windows projecting down onto what looked like a small area of offices with the more formal, dirty, smelly, warehouse out in the distance.  The clanking his escort made as he walked down the metal steps was the only sound audible beyond the industrial sized fans droning on far overhead.  An odd aroma of gasoline coupled with what can only be described as plastic melting made his stomach turn over and cringe, leaving him slightly light headed as he descended into the place.




Expect more snippets over the course of the year, I am 150 pages into the book, so we are almost to completion!



Just be.


My first book:  The Art of Falling



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            https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClxve29mvUghOIwrQrWb-Ew

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