Camera Obscured John56 1st Assignment

[John56{vg}]

Hello O great mentor mine. This is my first assignment. It would be the first chapter of a longer story. I just felt it was getting too long. Hope this works.

John56




Camera Obscured

By John56

At 3 p.m. on a hot desert day in Nevada the three words “PHOTOGRAPHS - BEER - NOTIONS” crudely lettered on the weathered wooden sign were the most welcome words in the English language for Bettina Guster.

Four hours ago Bettina was a confident, young executive on her first assignment to convince an old crazy desert dweller to sell his rights to a Nevada Mine. Now she was a lost city girl trapped in a dirty power suit and high heels for gods sake.

A single bead of sweat snaked its way down the neck and disappeared into the cleavage of Bettina Guster’s breasts. Walking for half an hour down the empty silent sandy roadway just allowed the fierce, dry heat to beat the moisture out of her body.

She was supposed to be in Sulphur, Nevada to talk to a client hours ago. Now the best she can figure she is somewhere in the Black Rock Desert. Her piece-of-shit rental car blew a tire and spun out of control an hour ago. And with a cell phone without a signal and shedding her pantyhose Tina began walking down the road.

Bettina falters in the shade of the covered porch of the ramshackle building, the sudden respite from the tsunami of heat crashing against her, shocking her system. She enters the doorway, expecting the cold burst of air conditioning. However, though there was a breeze blowing subtly and refreshingly through the building there was no manufactured air. A tiny bell jangled as she opened and closed the door.

She sees that the building’s décor is simple and very much in the style of the old west. In one corner is a single black velvet curtain with an old camera on a tripod in front of it. Sepia toned photographs are displayed around the curtain.

Tina goes over to the photos and finds they are all of various women in different period dress, from the 1800’s to the current time. They all have the same dazed look on their face.

“Jeez, stick with one period, jackass.” Tina says out loud.

A wooden slat bar is on the other side of the room with large barrels and a few bottles behind it. The bottles do not have labels and the spigots in the barrels are simple wooden dowels. However the bar is clean and the glasses are neatly stacked.

Next to the door is an old display case containing what looks like old miner gear. Ropes, wooden clothespins, tweezers, pans, and sewing equipment line the case.

With a sigh Tina flops into a wooden rocker next to the case. Sitting down she becomes aware of the sore muscles of the long legs peeking out of her miniskirt. She pops off her shoes and rubs her raw, burning feet before stretching her legs out before her. Her eyes begin to drift closed.

Tina opens her eyes with a start hearing a door opening in the back and footfalls on the wooden floor. She looks toward the back hallway to see a tall man in long muleskinner boots, jeans, a faded red shirt, and gloves. The man is wiping his face with a blue kerchief and as he removes it Tina sees a beguiling smile emerging from a salt and pepper beard.

Bettina is mesmerized by his deep, gray eyes. The laughing slate eyes seem to demand compliance.

Propped jauntily on top of this man’s head is a top hat with a native American design headband and a single long peacock feather stuck in the band. A ponytail of gray-black hair streams from behind.

“Good Afternoon, Miss,” The man says, tipping the hat. “You musta come far.” His voice is a soothing tenor with a slight western twang.

Tina loses herself in the man’s eyes which she sees slowly travel up her body. She feels them like firm hands stroking over her feet, up her calves, playing over her thighs. The phantom appendages linger at her hips, Tina moans at the embarrassment of the wetness that springs from within her hot pussy, splashing against the fabric of her white panties.

The caressing eyes travel up her stomach, tracing up the silk of her blouse and over her small, orange sized breasts. They travel up her throat to lay their warmth against her flushed cheeks and finally bore into her own heavy-lidded, turquoise-blue eyes.

“Miss?” He chuckles sexily.

Tina abruptly stands “Uhh -- Hi -- My name is Tin-- uh Bettina Guster,” she uses her best businesslike demeanor to gain back some of the control she has lost.

She shakes the man’s hand perfunctorily the touch of his rough hand is electric. “I have had an accident down the road and would like to use a phone to call somebody. Would that be possible.” Tina ends with a slight smile and wave of the head, playing the unattainable sexy businesswoman.

The man laughs again. “Oh, where are my manners, little lady? I’m J.D., but my friends call me Stoney. And I would like to be your friend. Would you like something to drink, you look done in.”

His eyes twinkle with light, making Stoney impossible to ignore. “Uh -- yes a cold beer would be nice --- but what I would really like to do is use your phone and call --”

“Good, Good!” Stoney interrupts and goes around to the bar and fills a glass with a heady brown ale, “It’s not cold but I make it myself. Drink up!”

Tina, realizing how thirsty she is makes her way to the bar and takes the frothy draft drinking it down quickly. The drink refreshes and revitalizes her spirit, she ask for another.

“You sure are a pretty little thing.” He draws another draft. “Would you allow me to take your photograph. I am a collector of pretty young things.”

As she drinks from the beer she looks at Stoney again. Her type was always the urbane metro-sexual men. She always thought that rural men were dirty, uncouth and dumb as a desert cactus. But as she looked at this older man in front of her she found herself excited.

Stoney carried himself with confidence and there was an air of wisdom that surrounded him. He was certainly not dirty, he smelled of leather, cool summer rain, and the slight musk of horseflesh. Looking into his eyes she saw herself reflected there.

Losing her businesslike air, Tina becomes a shy young girl again. Preening her long, black hair she says, “Ok, Stoney, you can take my picture.”

Stoney comes around the bar and stands in front of Tina. He stands so close she can feel his warmth invading her body. She turns on her stool to face him, not even aware that her skirt has ridden up her thighs and her ivory panties are peeking through. Stony licks his lips and puts out his hand to Tina.

“Follow me, beauty.”

Tina follows Stoney to the curtain. He caresses her cheek with his hand, smiles and leans down and steals a kiss from her cheeks.

“Stay there!” He whispers a command.

Stoney goes over to the camera, somewhere in her mind she realizes that he never adds a plate of film in the ancient camera, but she is too mesmerized to think. Stoney fills the trough of a with powder and holds it up above him as he looks in the viewfinder.

Tina can see his eye magnified in the lens as Stoney says, “Stand still until I set off the flash.”

He presses the button and the strobe flashes brightly. When the strobe goes off Tina feels the light enter through her eyes and tumble through her body. She feels disoriented and then blacks out.

-------------------------------------------------------

When she awakens Tina is still woozy but she feels constrained and cannot move. Stoney is caressing her naked body. Tina is hanging, tied securely by harsh ropes. In front of her is a table with wooden dowels, clothespins, and tweezers. There is also a bridle and a saddle nearby.

Stoney looks her in the eye and says, “Well, little one shall we get to know one another?”

To be continued

[Dragon's muse]

Love the story, and good use of the required elements without seeming contrived or forced. i'll get back to a longer reveiw tomorrow, but i did want to let you know that i really like this.

i will aslo get your next assignment up, tomorrow.

rose

[John56{vg}]

Thanks for the good words and quick response. I'm awaiting my next assignment thanks. :-)


John

[Dragon's muse]

i did not forget you, butr my puter had a small nervous breakdown. I will give thsi a in-depth going over and post your new assignment tomorrow, i promise

rose

[John56{vg}]

No Problem Muse. :-)

[Dragon's muse]

This is really good and i would love to read the continuation. i can really feel her irritation at her situation. The only real problem beyond the line edits is some slight inconsistencies in tense. Pick either past or present tense and be consistent. Keep up the good work and i will get your next assignment posted later today.

rose

Camera Obscured

By John56

At 3 p.m. on a hot desert day in Nevada the three wordsneed a comma here “PHOTOGRAPHS - BEER - NOTIONS” crudely lettered on the weathered wooden sign and another comma herewere the most welcome words in the English language for Bettina Guster.

Four hours ago, Bettina was a confident, young executive on her first assignment to convince an old crazy desert dweller to sell his rights to a Nevada Mine. Now she was a lost city girl trapped in a dirty power suit and high heels, for gods sake.

A single bead of sweat snaked its way down the neck and disappeared into the cleavage of Bettina Guster’s breasts (you can simplify this to "Bettina's cleavage.". Walking for half an hour down the empty, silent, sandy roadway just allowed the fierce, dry heat to beat the moisture out of her body.

She was supposed to be in Sulphur, Nevada to talk to a client hours ago. Now, the best she can figure she is somewhere in the Black Rock Desert. Her piece-of-shit rental car blew a tire and spun out of control an hour ago. And with a cell phone without a signal and shedding her pantyhose Tina began walking down the road.This sentence just doesn't flow well and is a bit unclear. You might be trying to get too much information into one sentence. Maybe try something like "Her cell phone told her 'no signal'; with a sigh, she shed her pantyhose and began walking down the road.

Bettina falters in the shade of the covered porch of the ramshackle building, the sudden respite from the tsunami of heat crashing against her, shocking her system. She enters the doorway, expecting the cold burst of air conditioning. However, though there was a breeze blowing subtly and refreshingly through the building, there was no manufactured air. A tiny bell jangled as she opened and closed the door.

She sees that the building’s décor is simple and very much in the style of the old west. In one corner is a single black velvet curtain with an old camera on a tripod in front of it. Sepia toned photographs are displayed around the curtain.

Tina goes over a little informal maybe change to crosses or walks to the photos and finds they are all of various women in different period dress, from the 1800’s to the current time. They all have the same dazed look on their face.

“Jeez, stick with one period, jackass.” Tina says out loud.

A wooden slat bar is on the other side of the room with large barrels and a few bottles behind it. The bottles do not have labels and the spigots in the barrels are simple wooden dowels. However the bar is clean and the glasses are neatly stacked.

Next to the door is an old display case, containing what looks like old miner gear. Ropes, wooden clothespins, tweezers, pans, and sewing equipment line the case.

With a sigh Tina flops into a wooden rocker next to the case. Sitting down she becomes aware of the sore muscles of the long legs peeking out of her miniskirt. She pops off her shoes and rubs her raw, burning feet before stretching her legs out before her. Her eyes begin to drift closed.

Tina opens her eyes with a start hearing a door opening in the back and footfalls on the wooden floor. She looks toward the back hallway to see a tall man in long muleskinner boots, jeans, a faded red shirt, and gloves. The man is wiping his face with a blue kerchief and as he removes it Tina sees a beguiling smile emerging from a salt and pepper beard.

Bettina is mesmerized by his deep, gray eyes. The laughing slate eyes seem to demand compliance.

Propped jauntily on top of this man’s head is a top hat with a native American design headband and a single long peacock feather stuck in the band. A ponytail of gray-black hair streams from behind.

“Good Afternoon, Miss,” The man says, tipping the hat. “You musta come far.” His voice is a soothing tenor with a slight western twang.

Tina loses herself in the man’s eyes which she sees slowly travel up her body. She feels them like firm hands stroking over her feet, up her calves, playing over her thighs.i really like this turn of phrase) The phantom appendages linger at her hips, Tina moans at the embarrassment of the wetness that springs from within her hot pussy, splashing against the fabric of her white panties.

The caressing eyes travel up her stomach, tracing up the silk of her blouse and over her small, orange sized breasts. They travel up her throat to lay their warmth against her flushed cheeks and finally bore into her own heavy-lidded, turquoise-blue eyes.

“Miss?” He chuckles sexily.

Tina abruptly stands “Uhh -- Hi -- My name is Tin-- uh Bettina Guster,” she uses her best businesslike demeanor to gain back some of the control she has lost.

She shakes the man’s hand perfunctorily; the touch of his rough hand is electric. “I have had an accident down the road and would like to use a phone to call somebody. Would that be possible.” Tina ends with a slight smile and wave of the head, playing the unattainable sexy businesswoman.

The man laughs again. “Oh, where are my manners, little lady? I’m J.D., but my friends call me Stoney. And I would like to be your friend. Would you like something to drink, you look done in.”

His eyes twinkle with light, making Stoney impossible to ignore. “Uh -- yes a cold beer would be nice --- but what I would really like to do is use your phone and call --”

“Good, Good!” Stoney interrupts and goes around to the bar and fills a glass with a heady brown ale, “It’s not cold but I make it myself. Drink up!”

Tina, realizing how thirsty she is makes her way to the bar and takes the frothy draft drinking it down quickly. The drink refreshes and revitalizes her spirit, (semicolon here)she ask for another.

“You sure are a pretty little thing.” He draws another draft. “Would you allow me to take your photograph. I am a collector of pretty young things.”

As she drinks from the beer she looks at Stoney again. Her type was always the urbane metro-sexual men. She always thought that rural men were dirty, uncouth and dumb as a desert cactus. But as she looked at this older man in front of her she found herself excited.

Stoney carried himself with confidence and there was an air of wisdom that surrounded him. He was certainly not dirty, he smelled of leather, cool summer rain, and the slight musk of horseflesh. Looking into his eyes she saw herself reflected there.

Losing her businesslike air, Tina becomes a shy young girl again. Preening her long, black hair she says, “Ok, Stoney, you can take my picture.”

Stoney comes around the bar and stands in front of Tina. He stands so close she can feel his warmth invading her body. She turns on her stool to face him, not even aware that her skirt has ridden up her thighs and her ivory panties are peeking through. Stony licks his lips and puts out his hand to Tina.

“Follow me, beauty.”

Tina follows Stoney to the curtain. He caresses her cheek with his hand, smiles and leans down and steals a kiss from her cheeks.

“Stay there!” He whispers a command.

Stoney goes over to the camera, somewhere in her mind she realizes that he never adds a plate of film in the ancient camera, but she is too mesmerized to think. Stoney fills the trough of a with powder and holds it up above him as he looks in the viewfinder.

Tina can see his eye magnified in the lens as Stoney says, “Stand still until I set off the flash.”

He presses the button and the strobe flashes brightly. When the strobe goes off Tina feels the light enter through her eyes and tumble through her body. (just a little off. See fi you like this, He presses the button; the strobe flashes brightly. Tina feels the light enter through her eyes and tumble through her body.She feels disoriented and then blacks out.

-------------------------------------------------------

When she awakens Tina is still woozy, but she feels constrained and cannot move. Stoney is caressing her naked body. Tina is hanging, tied securely by harsh ropes. In front of her is a table with wooden dowels, clothespins, and tweezers. There is also a bridle and a saddle nearby.

Stoney looks her in the eye and says, “Well, little one shall we get to know one another?”

To be continued

[John56{vg}]

Rose,

Thank you for your professional critique of the story. You have cleared up things that I found muddy and couldn't think how to fix. I appreciate it.

Also I will continue the story and let you read it, you have been inspirational to me. And of course thanks for the great words. I don't write much fiction and this is my first attempt at true erotica, so your words are appreciated.

I await my next assignment and I will work on the continuation of this story.

Oh and tense is a constant problem with me, so you hit one of my "walls" right on the button. I will work on that.

have a great day.


John

[tessa]

Wow. I am intrigued by your story. I want to find out just what Stoney has in mind. Just what he means when he says, "I collect pretty young things". What a delicious shiver that causes!

More, more, more! Please??

tessa

[John56{vg}]

You are gem sweet tessa.

I am going to finish the story and I will let you know when it is finished.

Thank you and hugs

John

[Dragon's muse]

John, see why she used to be my favorite before i had to kick her upstairs to level II

[John56{vg}]

Yes O Muse,

Tessa is an amazing woman. And a damn fine writer as well.

John. :-)

[H Dean]

Camera Obscured

By John56

At 3 p.m. on a hot desert day in Nevada the three words “PHOTOGRAPHS - BEER - NOTIONS” crudely lettered on the weathered wooden sign were the most welcome words in the English language for Bettina Guster.

I think I've been there. At least, at a sign that was, at long last, in English.

Four hours ago Bettina was a confident, young executive on her first assignment to convince an old crazy desert dweller to sell his rights to a Nevada Mine. Now she was a lost city girl trapped in a dirty power suit and high heels for gods sake.

A single bead of sweat snaked its way down the neck and disappeared into the cleavage of Bettina Guster’s breasts. Walking for half an hour down the empty silent sandy roadway just allowed the fierce, dry heat to beat the moisture out of her body.

Down THE neck? This is a poor use of words, but a good visual. I would definately alter this to something more like "...down her neck, disappearing into the cleavage of her breasts..." It would help the flow and would get rid of the sudden detachment "THE" brings about.

She was supposed to be in Sulphur, Nevada to talk to a client hours ago. Now the best she can figure she is somewhere in the Black Rock Desert. Her piece-of-shit rental car blew a tire and spun out of control an hour ago. And with a cell phone without a signal and shedding her pantyhose Tina began walking down the road.

This was a rather odd paragraph. First, the shortness of the sentences made it choppy. Also, the final sentence was not good. Get rid of the "and" to start it and try to find a better way to say this. Judging from what all I have read, you can manage just fine.

Bettina falters in the shade of the covered porch of the ramshackle building, the sudden respite from the tsunami of heat crashing against her, shocking her system. She enters the doorway, expecting the cold burst of air conditioning. However, though there was a breeze blowing subtly and refreshingly through the building there was no manufactured air. A tiny bell jangled as she opened and closed the door.

Whoa! When did we change perspectives and how many times are we going to do so?

She sees that the building’s décor is simple and very much in the style of the old west. In one corner is a single black velvet curtain with an old camera on a tripod in front of it. Sepia toned photographs are displayed around the curtain.

Tina goes over to the photos and finds they are all of various women in different period dress, from the 1800’s to the current time. They all have the same dazed look on their face.

“Jeez, stick with one period, jackass.” Tina says out loud.

A wooden slat bar is on the other side of the room with large barrels and a few bottles behind it. The bottles do not have labels and the spigots in the barrels are simple wooden dowels. However the bar is clean and the glasses are neatly stacked.

Okay, the thing that bothers me about this is that there is little life in your descriptions. Your description has become technical more than story telling.

Next to the door is an old display case containing what looks like old miner gear. Ropes, wooden clothespins, tweezers, pans, and sewing equipment line the case.

With a sigh Tina flops into a wooden rocker next to the case. Sitting down she becomes aware of the sore muscles of the long legs peeking out of her miniskirt. She pops off her shoes and rubs her raw, burning feet before stretching her legs out before her. Her eyes begin to drift closed.

So the legs are not necessarily hers but the shoes are. This style of description is detaching.

Tina opens her eyes with a start hearing a door opening in the back and footfalls on the wooden floor. She looks toward the back hallway to see a tall man in long muleskinner boots, jeans, a faded red shirt, and gloves. The man is wiping his face with a blue kerchief and as he removes it Tina sees a beguiling smile emerging from a salt and pepper beard.

You must get to punctuating better. But I am sure Muse will cover that better than I.

Bettina is mesmerized by his deep, gray eyes. The laughing slate eyes seem to demand compliance.

Find adjectives or metaphors or similes. Repeated words make the reading odd.

Propped jauntily on top of this man’s head is a top hat with a native American design headband and a single long peacock feather stuck in the band. A ponytail of gray-black hair streams from behind.

Again, you are so technical. Give it feeling. Give it life. To tell us...show us. Make us see this image.

“Good Afternoon, Miss,” The man says, tipping the hat. “You musta come far.” His voice is a soothing tenor with a slight western twang.

Tina loses herself in the man’s eyes which she sees slowly travel up her body. She feels them like firm hands stroking over her feet, up her calves, playing over her thighs. The phantom appendages linger at her hips, Tina moans at the embarrassment of the wetness that springs from within her hot pussy, splashing against the fabric of her white panties.

The caressing eyes travel up her stomach, tracing up the silk of her blouse and over her small, orange sized breasts. They travel up her throat to lay their warmth against her flushed cheeks and finally bore into her own heavy-lidded, turquoise-blue eyes.

“Miss?” He chuckles sexily.

Tina abruptly stands “Uhh -- Hi -- My name is Tin-- uh Bettina Guster,” she uses her best businesslike demeanor to gain back some of the control she has lost.

She shakes the man’s hand perfunctorily the touch of his rough hand is electric. “I have had an accident down the road and would like to use a phone to call somebody. Would that be possible.” Tina ends with a slight smile and wave of the head, playing the unattainable sexy businesswoman.

The man laughs again. “Oh, where are my manners, little lady? I’m J.D., but my friends call me Stoney. And I would like to be your friend. Would you like something to drink, you look done in.”

His eyes twinkle with light, making Stoney impossible to ignore. “Uh -- yes a cold beer would be nice --- but what I would really like to do is use your phone and call --”

“Good, Good!” Stoney interrupts and goes around to the bar and fills a glass with a heady brown ale, “It’s not cold but I make it myself. Drink up!”

Tina, realizing how thirsty she is makes her way to the bar and takes the frothy draft drinking it down quickly. The drink refreshes and revitalizes her spirit, she ask for another.

“You sure are a pretty little thing.” He draws another draft. “Would you allow me to take your photograph. I am a collector of pretty young things.”

Most of what I might say in the way of critisism would be repetitive and I don't want to beat this horse to death. Mostly, the descriptions are good. Some are even rather interesting and lively. Unfortunately, your lack of proper punctuation made the descriptions a bit difficult.

As she drinks from the beer she looks at Stoney again. Her type was always the urbane metro-sexual men. She always thought that rural men were dirty, uncouth and dumb as a desert cactus. But as she looked at this older man in front of her she found herself excited.

Did we change prespectives again?

Stoney carried himself with confidence and there was an air of wisdom that surrounded him. He was certainly not dirty, he smelled of leather, cool summer rain, and the slight musk of horseflesh. Looking into his eyes she saw herself reflected there.

Losing her businesslike air, Tina becomes a shy young girl again. Preening her long, black hair she says, “Ok, Stoney, you can take my picture.”

Stoney comes around the bar and stands in front of Tina. He stands so close she can feel his warmth invading her body. She turns on her stool to face him, not even aware that her skirt has ridden up her thighs and her ivory panties are peeking through. Stony licks his lips and puts out his hand to Tina.

“Follow me, beauty.”

Tina follows Stoney to the curtain. He caresses her cheek with his hand, smiles and leans down and steals a kiss from her cheeks.

“Stay there!” He whispers a command.

Stoney goes over to the camera, somewhere in her mind she realizes that he never adds a plate of film in the ancient camera, but she is too mesmerized to think. Stoney fills the trough of a with powder and holds it up above him as he looks in the viewfinder.

Tina can see his eye magnified in the lens as Stoney says, “Stand still until I set off the flash.”

He presses the button and the strobe flashes brightly. When the strobe goes off Tina feels the light enter through her eyes and tumble through her body. She feels disoriented and then blacks out.

-------------------------------------------------------

When she awakens Tina is still woozy but she feels constrained and cannot move. Stoney is caressing her naked body. Tina is hanging, tied securely by harsh ropes. In front of her is a table with wooden dowels, clothespins, and tweezers. There is also a bridle and a saddle nearby.

Stoney looks her in the eye and says, “Well, little one shall we get to know one another?”

To be continued

Well, I did enjoy this little tale. The close was, of course, rather predictable. It didn't hamper the enjoyment of the tale, though. Frankly, I am looking forward to seeing the continued portion of this tale.

As you have noted, I am sure, my major complaints were the nature of your descriptions, the perspective change and the lack of proper punctuation. I am no expert at punctuation, so I will leave that part to others more skilled at punctuation and grammar.

For the descriptive life of the story I would offer this - and I believe I am repeating myself, though not to you.

When there is stress or excitement that you want to get through to the reader you should keep descriptions short for the most part. A series of two or three short descriptions with one longer sentence connecting two different ideas can really create the feel of tension and excitement. A series of longer sentences connecting ideas can really slow the reader...when he can read fast, the action will be fast.

When descriptions are meant to provide a vivid and more emotional feeling, as series of longer sentences tends to slow the reader into appreciating what is being described - makes him take in the view, so to speak.

Finally, and this is important for your descriptions...short descriptions read like a manual. Slide the descriptions together a bit. Connect one description to an unrelated description. Not every time, but here and there.

Well, I am off. That's what the doc says, anyhow.

[Beswitchingly Positive]

Wow, I read this a while back, had so much going on I did not have presence of mind to respond. This story is very hot and menacing.

Sewing equipment? Yikes.

I am not a nit picker, not enough schoolin for that (yet), but I loved the feel of this piece. I have been somewhere in the Black Rock Desert, and you did a good job capturing the heat of the setting. The memory of dust in places dust should not go is inspiring me to write something rather horrifying...

Nice story. Downright freakin' creepy.

Welcome to the club.

BP

[John56{vg}]

BP

Thank you soo very much I appreciate your comments. I consider myself a gentle and respectful dom in r/l . But I have this need to write characters that are just creepy as hell. Scared to find out what that means, LOL.

I need to revisit this and complete it but have been having too much fun on the forums.

Again I appreciate the comments sooo much. (I went, in the early years, to the burning man festival in the Black Rock. And I tried to capture what I felt and even the creepiness of some of the locals. Desert dwellers seem to have a fell about them that is menacing. May be just me but I feel that., lol)

thanks BP

[Beswitchingly Positive]

Wow, 517 posts in a month. You have been having too much fun on the forums!

I figured you had been to Burning Man.

Ah, I wish I could have made out to BRC in the early years, alas I missed the days of drive by target practice. New Orleans is so far from that dry dusty place, it took years before my wish to attened came true. I got to hear all about the old days, I ended up getting drafted to work in the post office when I was there. What fun.

You could fix it up, or you could keep rolling and get to the next assignment...three more levels after this one you know. There are so many good stories up here I am haviing a hard tiime just getting to commenting on all of them, and I have a serious bit of editing to get done as well. I am more interested in seeing what you come up with next. Of course, you must make Dragon's Muse happy...

Beswitchingly

[John56{vg}]

Sweet BP.

Thank you again for the good words. Muse may have been happy with me, but not lately I fear. I have been procrastinating terribly in the last month. Getting those 500 posts in, you know.

And my ex and I were member so the The San Francisco Cacophony Society in the 80s and 90s. We went to burning man shortly after it had begun on a beach in S.F. An amazing experience, Fires dancers and Mud people, shrooms and drums, scary but harmless locals gawking and late night "hot tubbing" in the hot springs, it was an event. And all with just alittle over a thousand people and not ats much of the hedonsim of the later years.

I was glad I experienced it.

Thank you lovely for letting me share that with you.

[moptop]

Oh, John, John, I am just getting around to doing some reviews and have just read this... I really, really want to read more! Sewing kit, yikes, indeed! Please, stop enjoying yourself so much and write another installment!

I shan't pick any nits... you've suffered Mr Dean and your Muse already, why should I add more! Oh, OK, maybe just one... I found the sudden mesmerisation of his eyes unbelievable, or rather, I found that her showing no surprise or fight back was unbelievable. Too smooth. Can you make her struggle mentally just a bit more, be a little more horrified with her own reactions? That may not be what you want, of course.

I eagerly await...

[cariad]

Okay....I just want part 2. Is that too much to ask for???

cariad

[nancy]

I have just arrived at the Block, and have started looking around to see how things work here. This is the first completed assignment that I have read, and I am impressed. The story is gripping, and I could just feel the desert ambiance. The tension built steadily, and the sudden twist at the end left me longing for the next chapter. It was not clear to me, however, why she lost consciousness. If it was the flash, how did that work? If it was the beer, she should have felt woozy before the photo. As others have pointed out, I was also a little distracted by the tense changes, but it is a superb story.

I was also impressed by the quality of the criticism offered. It is difficult to get good, constructive criticism like this story received.

nancy

[John56{vg}]

NANCY: Thank you for your good words. I am a journalist and I realize I have problems with tense sometimes, it is the bane of my existence, LOL. And the criticism is great here. I have been laz in my assignments lately but I do hope to get back to it soon.

You are a welcome addition ot the forums and the block. GOod luck and if you have any questions or fuirther comments, don't hesitate to comeent here or PM me.

As far as her passing out. I was hoping the rest of the story would explain that. I know where I want to go, just haven't worked it out yet completely. But suffice it to say there is a supernatural element to the story, thatn may not be obvious yet.

Again I appreciate and love your comments on the story. Thanks.

Welcome,

MOPTOP: Thank you so much for your comments. Yes, I think you might be right, she might need more of a struggle going on. I will think on that definitely. I also see her as fairly numb about life right now, so that might be my convenient excuse, LOL. But I love your comments so thank you again.

CARIAD: Yes, as I said I have been lax in the block lately. Been having too much fun in the forums and now with r/l. But I will get back to it. And this is the second place that you have said wonderful things about me or my work. I want you to know it is VERY much appreciated. thank you. And I will get to part two as soon as I can, LOL. hugs lovely cariad.
John