James Durl
Bio
A budding academic trying to flex his creative muscles.
Stories (15/0)
Black sand and slate skin trees
Rolling hills of black sand and slate-skin trees - you can't picture it until you go there. A forest of immense scale, now so devoid of life, totally arid and deprived. The air is thick and starved of oxygen, but crystal clear. From any given point, you could see a kilometre ahead - all the more troubling. There are no birds, no shrubs or thickets, no mammals or bugs to be seen. You'll find no glade pools filled with little fishies; no rivers running through. Not even a basin with a swampy bog. You'll find no signs that life could be sustained there. Because it can't...not anymore.
By James Durl6 months ago in Fiction
Revelaraphobia
Hunched beneath the cracked window, he lurked, caught in the throes of fetishist-ic panic. Never had he had a chance to experience his greatest pleasure in such a robust and meaningful way. To overhear such words, such deeds - and be privy to crimes yet to come, while totally obscured to the two stern voices that occupied the back of a midtown restaurant. The experience was like no other, in no way diluted by his alleyway surroundings of garbage and assorted filths.
By James Durl7 months ago in Fiction
Martyred in the mirror
"Women improve men". I decided when I was a young man, no more than a boy, that I would try to be a good person in my life. This is easy to decide as a kid, because being good is obvious. Of course when you start getting older, good becomes relative and you aren't ever sure if you're right, good, correct or justifiable, and you may decide to stop thinking about it altogether. When I was 17 however I met my current partner, and I refined my idea of how to be good. I am a man, I am straight, and I need to get a partner to help me do 'the correct things' in life. When my partner and I started dating, I first thought, that it would be nice to have someone in my life who liked me, thought I was attractive, and maybe I could have sex with. That perhaps these qualities of another human being would make life nice, while I was making life nice for others.
By James Durlabout a year ago in Psyche
Ch.1 Maige Beatha
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Towers now climb from once fertile soil, and scorched earth has become of the people’s arable lands. Great men with scales for skin and stones for hearts accrue their wealth through the sale and labour of their countrymen.
By James Durl2 years ago in Fiction
My Fiancé's keeper
This is Dagda. We call him Daggy of course, as well as little buddy, baby, big boy and other nonsense. He is a Groeenendael x Bull Arab cross, who likes to chew on his toy skunk and sit on people when they're trying to watch TV . The name 'Dagda', derives from 'The Dagda' of the 'Tuatha De Denann', a supernatural race from pre-Christian Gaelic Ireland (can see the obviously Wikipedia sourced article here). My fiancé named him as such because Dagda can be seen as a big hairy Hagrid mutha who protects and teaches, and represents strength and wisdom. Our Daggy is an assistance dog, and his primary roll is to provide physical, psychological and emotional assistance for when my partner cannot keep her head above water all on her own.
By James Durl3 years ago in Petlife
It's all relative
One might look at my life – if I could lay it out up to today in a neat and traceable fashion – and judge it boring. They wouldn’t be wrong; I’ve not had much in the way of exciting adventures, chances taken or run ins with the law. I spent my first 18 years trying not to be noticed, and the next 8 trying to be something worth noticing. Not get off on the wrong foot here, but I’ve heard all the doom and gloom about being young and how quickly it fades, and with that in mind you might sympathise with being Mr. Depresso over here.
By James Durl3 years ago in Motivation
- Top Story - April 2021
Trial by Spew and SputumTop Story - April 2021
Vaccinations In light of our modern pandemic-culture and discourse around vaccines, I thought it appropriate to share a relevant story of my own experience. I think back to this memory when I consider the anxiety I cultivated for the next decade, and all difficulties I have had with other vaccinations, blood tests or simply the word ‘needle’. This story describes a defining moment in my teenage years and was a generally awful experience. Don’t fret, it has a happy ending.
By James Durl3 years ago in Confessions