Adrian Fuller
Bio
Restarting my life's story
Draft: 19
Stories (3/0)
Along These Lines
There is always that moment when youre surprised between shock and recognition, when that cold lightning that runs up your back is like a starters pistol. This is it. The race of your life that might be the rest of your life. That fear is a monster. Running is your new lifes goal if you want to keep it. Survival is now running. Running is your new obsession a hulking abomination out of a nightmare realm is cutting a swath through the distance that separates you and it. You run until you’re out of breath and you fall. At first, falling from the fear is all consuming until you fall away from it. From frying pan into the fire. You fall for a long time. However, when you hit the ground there is no painful nanosecond and there is no satisfying crunch. Its just you falling a foot from the couch to the ground at the end of a dream sequence.
By Adrian Fuller3 years ago in Geeks
World of Rob Corps Rings
There is always that moment when you’re surprised between shock and recognition, when that cold lightning that runs up your back is a starter’s pistol. This is the race of your life, that might also be the rest of your life. Run. Running your life’s new goal if you want to keep it. Survival is now running. Running is your new obsession. A hulking abomination out of the nightmare realm is no longer following you. It’s gaining on you, cutting a swath between you and it. There is a mult-verse separating you from safety and security. Then, there’s another surprising moment. A moment when you fall thankfully away and the beast or whatever, is the real Mccoy. Falling away but down an endless chasm. When you hit bottom there is no conclusive crunch. Nor is there a nanosecond of life ending pain. All there would be to this a two foot fall from the couch to the floor, ending the dream sequence.
By Adrian Fuller3 years ago in Geeks
The Unimportant Invasion
I was around eight at the time and drawing dad and I as superheroes holding hands in this black book. I remember on the radio there was a song about cats in the cradle and then it was a news break to talk about an epidemic. I was bored so, I started singing the phrase cats in the cradle over and over again. Father exclaims, 'wait' in a very loud voice. Then, like a bolt, he turns quickly to the right to face me with his hand out reaching. I flinch because of the suddenness of it all and put the black book up to guard me or protect me out of instinct. He swats towards me in the backseat. He was facing forward again and using his left hand to drive and right to swipes back. He swats at me again and grabs the black book and throws it uselessly to the floor. He Slams on the brakes like he's crazy. Big eyed he turned around and as I close my eyes, I feel the impact of what feels like the Hand of God slams my face into the car door. My arm hurts and my ears are ringing with a deafening hi-pitched (chime, tone, note). Then, next moments after that are some confusing disjointed pieces of me looking at the glass on the grass and another with my dad roughly dropping me on the floor like a sack of potatoes. He's banging on someone's door. I can make out some sounds soaking through the high-pitched note and the loudness of the world is leaking in. "What about my kid?!", he says. "He got his bell rung and he’s hurt." That was the last time I saw my dad.
By Adrian Fuller3 years ago in Humans