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Post by Freedom on Sept 24, 2012 13:10:21 GMT -5
1. a. Characterized by convexity; protuberant. b. More than half but less than fully illuminated. Used of the moon or a planet. 2. Having a hump; humpbacked.
[Middle English, bulging, from Late Latin gibbsus, hunch-backed, from Latin gibbus, hump.]
Our beautiful moon right now is in the 'waxing gibbous' phase. For some reason, I find the waning gibbous moon to be generally kinda creepy / spooky ...
And, thank you!
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Post by Freedom on Sept 24, 2012 13:43:15 GMT -5
Axel came down the stairs at a canter although the house was dark. Street light through the front windows discovered the frames on the wall beside him. He looked to the left: the library was a cave with a square door. To the right the foyer merged into the greater cave of the front room. He straight-armed the door and went out into the night. Axel drove an old huge Cadillac, older than himself, which handled like a waterbed. Cold blooded thing. He had to pump the gas a couple times before it turned over and then the comforting sound of the engine and the feel of life under his butt pleased him as always. Love them eight cylinders. He used the end of the driveway for a T-turn and headed down towards town. Pushed the button and the windows hummed open. Registered the smells of summer trees and the sweet dark humidity on his lips. Turned on the radio. The Cadillac surged up the entrance ramp to the empty highway. Sodium lights stained it yellow and made the darkness darker beside him. Axel visualized his route. The highway curved off to the right, an expectant tunnel / corridor in its yellow glow The highway was an expectant tunnel of light curving off to the right. Axel enjoyed sailing down through it but six and a half minutes later he spotted his exit as expected and glided off the highway into the dark. Now the Cadillac burrowed beneath the highway, headlights picking out the concrete bones of it. The road Axel followed led almost immediately into the country, no businesses, no streetlights. It was a narrowish road and Axel basically took his half out of the middle. Again he became aware of the night air, smelled herbage and tadpoles. An agreeable drive so far. Axel kept the radio off. He wanted to be sharp. Far ahead on the right he could see a glow through and a bit above the trees. He'd been here before. Down through the swale, foot off the gas, coast up the hill, kill the lights, cut the engine and slide into the dark under the trees. No power to the steering or brakes, but enough give in both to settle him where he wanted to be. Now he watched. He saw a little lonely bar with a floodlit gravel parking lot between its flat dark front and the road, and one modest neon beer sign in the window, blacked out on the inside. He could hear a faint rhythm from the jukebox (no live bands here) and smell a rumor of the murky sweetness of the bar air inside. No one came in or out. No cars passed along the road. Axel didn't fidget, he never did. He wasn't particularly bored. Occasionally he shifted position a little, or took a deep breath. He saw bats snip in and out of the light above the bar, and heard coyotes, which surprised him as it was well before midnight. Then a big yellow one came trotting out of the dark trees beside the bar and crossed the parking lot from corner to corner, straight line, owns the world, thought Axel. It moved its head to meet his eyes for an instant but didn't pause or change course. The gibbous moon began to rise, and the countryside to take shape under its light. Axel knew all the phases of the moon. Ah. A lanky stooping man in jeans appeared in the light of the parking lot. His walk was kind of a lope. He crossed to his goofy little rice-burner toy pickup, started it up and skidded it out onto the road, managing to throw a little gravel. Loud pipes. Axel thought a small engine with loud pipes was one of the dumbest sounds in the world. His mouth compressed with irritation as he ignited his own smooth silent monster. Lights off he crunched across the gravel, a pleasant enjoying the sound, and drifted out onto the road. The blacktop was nicely reflecting the moonlight and got brighter right away. Axel's night vision was quite good. The dumb toy pickup bopped along ahead of him. He could hear it even from this distance in the still warm air. The way he liked to follow was, to be far enough back to catch regular glimpses of his quarry, not so far back that he could lose them, not so close that they would notice him. He was skilled at this, from long practice. Axel visualized their route. In about four minutes the quarry would be confronted with a fork in the road, and Axel knew he was as likely to go left as right. The Cadillac cruised closer in the moonlight. The man in the pickup glanced automatically in his rear-view mirror, and he his eyes actually saw the big car a mile or so behind him on the bright-lit road, but his brain failed to register it at all. He drove on unconcerned and Axel followed calmly. At the fork the little pickup went left. Axel was pleased. The right-hand fork offered a darker road with more cover, but the left hand fork road to the left wandered hypnotically through mile after identical mile. Music drifted faintly back on the still air. Axel wondered whether he was hearing the sounds as they came out the other's window, or whether the sounds had just floated on the still night air until he drove through them. There was an hour's drive ahead of them before the next choice of road turnoff of any sort. Mile after mile slid past. The gibbous moon leered into the drivers' windows; neither paid it any mind. There -- the pickup wavered to the side a little and was hastily corrected. The driver skinny jasper was getting sleepy. Axel maintained his distance for the moment. Again the little truck edged began edging over to the shoulder, a little bit; a little more; the right-hand tires followed the painted line; they crossed it and skirted the dark edge of the blacktop. It crossed Axel's mind to blast the horn and give the doofus a good scare and his lips lifted a little at the thought; he could shoot up beside the truck, lay on the horn and scare the dumb-ass right into the ditch. That would be funny. But Axel shook his head; he didn't like to make much fuss, usually. So, some hours in the bar and now an hour on the road ... and a pull-out coming up over the hill. Axel had no doubt of the next event. Yup, there he goes, dipshit barely avoiding the ditch as he hauled it to a stop on the half-circle of gravel. And out the door he bails. Axel was very close enough to see the whole picture, the gravel showing lighter than the blacktop in the moonlight, the little truck standing quietly with the driver's door open and the dope light shining, the lean guy a tall black line to the right, standing with his back to the gravel, the road, the moon, and the big silent car rolling up from behind him.
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Post by scribbliz on Sept 24, 2012 13:46:24 GMT -5
waits with breathless anticipation for the next installment
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Post by Freedom on Oct 22, 2012 15:46:22 GMT -5
The gentle crunch of the tires on the turnout took a while to soak in ... distracted. Busy.
It was only when he turned back to his pickup and saw the dark Cadillac crouching there that the skinny guy felt any disquiet at all. He stopped dead, searching his brain.
Had that been there when he'd turned in? No. He remembered the clear pale inviting expanse of the turnout and remembered turning the wheel and driving right over the spot where the big car sat. Watching him.
Was there someone IN the car? Still stopped in his tracks, he stared hard at the windshield looking for a silhouette. He couldn't see in. Then a pale face began to appear as the driver leaned forward and he knew the shadowed eyes were looking hard at him. Menace.
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Post by scribbliz on Oct 23, 2012 1:17:32 GMT -5
hmmm....interesting....getting spooky here freedom more please!
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Post by PaperGrace on Oct 24, 2012 11:54:18 GMT -5
Squeeeeee!
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Post by Freedom on Oct 24, 2012 17:28:23 GMT -5
The white face in the windshield split as the mouth stretched open and yet farther open, wider and wider, a black and terrifying void, wider and wider, impossibly wide.
Panic flooded him, and brain checked out. He leaped for the handle of the passenger door and yanked it so hard he rocked the truck. Locked. A horrified petrified instant and the door burst open in his face emitting a bulky flying form that reached for his head.
He crawfished, curling himself away from the grabbing hands and launching himself off the edge of the turnout and into the black brush beyond.
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