Blackbirds

I opened the top drawer of my dresser. It was crowded with oxygen and dust. A small Rubik’s Cube sat in the back-right corner of the drawer. I grasped it with my fingers, and twirled it around. The colors began to blend into a splash of diversity. The reds ate with the violets. The oranges danced with the whites. The greens played with the blues. They began to swirl in harmony, creating a tidal wave of novelty. The door to the corridor opens. I threw the Rubik’s Cube down onto the ground, and kicked it under my bed, obscuring it from vantage point. The door shut and I positioned upward. I reached under my bed, grabbed the Rubik’s Cube, and carefully placed in back in the drawer. I shut the drawer, and grabbed the lock in my pocket. I sheltered the drawer with the safeguard of a key. I walked into my closet. It lacked light, but I continued to filter through my collected attire. I grabbed my uniform and began to put it on. I began to strip into naked innocence. Slowly, I pulled on my yellow socks, engulfing my calves in neon stimulation. My yellow pants came next, limiting the sheer opacity from view. The yellow shirt and shoes almost finished the ensemble. Before leaving, I unlocked the drawer, and pocketed the Rubik’s Cube. I walked out of the room, into the cemetery. Mourners dressed in black fill the grounds, coating the blades of grass with tears tinted green with jealousy. I walked to the tree in the edge of the graveyard. I climbed a top it, and grabbed my yellow hat. I walked over to the coffin. There it lay, vacant of life. I released the Rubik’s Cube from my pocket, and grasped it in my hands. Again, I began playing with it, twirling it about my fingertips. I slowly began to peel the harmonic colors from the cube, and place them upon myself. This left the once vibrant and exclusive cube, a dull black brick. I threw the cube into the coffin, and sealed it air-tight. The pallbearers filed out, and began to take the coffin to the mausoleum. I stood behind and watched, leaving my soul buried deep within the coffin’s chambers. Thirteen blackbirds circled above, in a clockwise fashion. They hovered downward, and surrounded me, as I vanished into the air.


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So I tried to write really awesome like Variant but it didn't work out, although his "Rubik's Cube" inspired me to write this, even though it represents something completely different.

I appreciate your description of my writing. I call my style "avant-garde free-form creative expressionism via language" but it's not quite that, if you know what I mean.

This is definitely interesting, but not the style that most represents what I write. It has a few trips in the story that make you double-take before you realize that it's a mind game, and the overall tone is something I agree with, although the ending is far more fantastical than anything I'd write, lol.

I especially like the Beatles reference (Blackbird), in response to my own story, which had the title of another Beatles song (Twist and Shout). Points to you, even if it wasn't intentional.

or just call it your AGFFCEVL style.

I liked the story/writing/thingy-ma-bob/whatever-you-call-this-thing Soccerryle .