Saturday, February 11, 2012

Emotion: One of the Possible Ends

Something I thought about for years was how Bailey repaid a certain debt and a void caused by the happenings in "Hell to Pay"  Special thanks to Angie, Cassie, and Sara for this wonderful blogfest.  It's been a blast writing.  See below for my last entry.

Now in the final moments, the siren's wail drove a certain ex-detective to a lone road . . .

Thunder cracked overhead and Bailey stomach clinched.  In front of him was what the old man called destiny.  The power poles shook and sparks flew like tracer rounds right into the monster.  He wanted to throw up, thinking about his mortal ties in this world, and what he could lose.  Years ago, he would’ve smoked the tires into it, but now there was Isabella.   Like his grandfather always said, “everything goes back to a woman.”  He steadied himself, this was bigger than one man's damned hopes and crushed dreams.
He put the car into drive.  Then his hands clenched the steering wheel as the crosswind bowed in his driver side window.   The wind’s scream deafened anything inside the car after the window exploded, including Bailey’s expletive filled response.   Partially blinded by debris, he could make out the approaching wedge, small telescoping fingers probed the ground under its dark skirt.
“We all need lies to believe in.”  The old man’s words.  . . hopefully his promise of attaining godhood wasn’t a lie.  There was a void left from what was lost in Ashton, Kansas and for the sake of mankind, it had to be filled. 
The car’s left side rose.  There was a moment of bliss in the tempest-like take off.   For a moment pain, noise, and light took over the world, then peace.  Like the first time he saw the old man riding at him on the nightmarish horse to take his soul.  Bailey knew this was the end.  The ultimate question, was there anything after it.
Funny how they always said it sounded like a freight train.   


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Dialogue Introduction: Bailey meets his match

“Sometimes the mind needs time to heal,” Bailey said as he rested his head on the state issued pillow.  He muttered it to himself for sleep most nights, almost like an incantation to keep the nightmares at bay.

“Sometimes our addled heads need lies to believe in.”  The voice on the upper bunk replied.

Bailey sat up.  When he came back into the cell it was empty.  A light depression showed on the bunk above.

“Hey, you,” it said.

Bailey stood and stared at the old man.  Long ratty hair and a big grey biker’s beard framed a radiant blue eye that took everything in.  His head turned to reveal an eye patch and Bailey felt very cold.

“Figured I was in this long haul by myself,” Bailey said.

“Do you think any of us are ever truly alone?”


“You were saying, sometimes the mind needs time to heal . . . find a lie to believe in boy.”

“I found out my reality was a lie.”

“Welcome to the world of grown-ups.  Our castles are made of tissue paper.  Just like our tortured psyches.”

Bailey felt that last syllable from the old man slither around the room.  “I've seen you before.”

“For some people, I’m the last thing they see.  You got lucky, someone else stole my attention.”  The old man nodded once and Bailey sat back down.  He gripped the side of his thin rubber mattress took a deep breath, and let a tiny laugh escape.

“So is there some debt still between us?”

Bailey listened to the metronome-like beat of his heart and counted to 50.  He stood waiting to find a shank or a gun in the old man’s hand, but found a bare mattress with a slight indention.

Characters on the Couch: Michael Bailey

Several of you have commented on being interested in the story.  I need reviews, sound like a deal made on the bottom level of Hell?  Also I would be interested in interviews.  My other website is   Contact me . . .

Saturday, February 4, 2012


Rebel scum stopped us with a simple generator grid.

Lord Vader, we have been halted . . . Ack, ack, gurgle.