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Monday, 16 May 2011


 This is the prologue of my novel I am in the process of writing. I did create a blog that I was going to post it on as I wrote it, but thought better of it after a piece of advice I was given. Publishers will consider it published already... if I were to look to publish it. What do we think?

Peeling away the cobwebs and wiping away the thick layer of dust, he stared in the cracked mirror, disgusted, disgraced and repulsed at the sight of his reflection. Not only did he look untidy, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed since... well as long as he could remember. Simple things like clean personal hygiene seemed an age ago. He was untidy and scruffy with long, shaggy hair matted with... he didn't like to think what.  His teeth were putrid, moldy and decayed with his skin almost the same dirty dusky colour. Looking around he couldn't help but think that this bathroom he was occupying was a representation of his physical self, nauseating and repulsive. For him, what was worse was that his soul seemed tainted, tainted by something even more sickening and disgusting than any language, past or present, could possibly describe.

  He hammered the mirror with his fist, shattering it, wanting nothing more than to destroy the reflection it contained. His rage was unimaginably ferocious. Upon retraction he noticed the crimson fluid dripping from the cuts that decorated his hand, yet it did not pain him, it was merely physical, mental anguish overpowered that with ease.
  How could all this have happened? It wasn’t that long ago that he was happy and globally famous as a "saviour". He was good. He was great. Yet "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" is it not?
Beside him was a bottle filled with the substance that had caused all this. Even now, in the confinement of a public bathroom, it mocked him. The power contained within the bottle is one not to be taken by man. So the lesson is learned...but learned too late, because man, as a species, lacks the wisdom required to harness it responsibly. Yet now it has unleashed upon this earth the subsequent consequences of its misuse. Its mere discovery has, without doubt, caused our annihilation.

 The irony of it seemed strangely transparent to him, obvious and undeniable. Life began with Creation, and now Creation will be its end and it's all his fault...


  1. I'm gonna lob another bomb your way - since you took up the poetry gauntlet so well - wanna take a stab at Romantic Friday Writers?

  2. Oh, and you might want to consider doing away with word verification - it becomes annoying to those who follow/comment on tons of blogs. (Seconds count.) And, in 6 months of blogging I've never had a single incident of spam or trolling. Just a thought.

  3. This is some prologue and the makings of a bestseller for sure!

    As requested, I've played with the settings of my blog and changed the color of the links.
    I'm glad you asked, because the new color is much nicer and easier to see.

    Thanks for the request and for the kind words.