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Downcast With Hope (A D-Prime Madness Contest Entry That Doesn't Suck) (779 hits)

Category: Romance

Rating: 1.77 on 20 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by rad1101 (View user info) at 2006-06-23 04:26:40 EDT


Reference: http://www.ubersite.com/m/89324


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Bluish smoke swirled up from the cigarette Paul Dourish was holding between his fingers, partially obscuring his view of the body laying in the middle of the dark alleyway. The coroner's assistant and a patrolman were sharing what was undoubtedly a morbid joke about the cause of death. Paul had no patience for these things. As a gold shield in the Two-Seven, he performed the job with such a precision and adherence to the book there was no room for any of this sophomoric bullshit that the young guys had these days.

Sneering as be brushed past the smiling cop, Paul walked to his car and took out his cell phone. Marie hadn't called while he was out.

Marie, oh sweet Marie; hair like golden silk, eyes like limpid pools of blue water, and a body that wouldn't quit. Paul married Marie O'Toole when he was twenty-four years old, a decision he regretted by the time he was twenty-five. Probably got married too young, he would always tell himself, it just didn't work out. Marie left him two years prior, when he was thirty seven. She told him that they had grown apart, and she needed time to figure things out. She wanted to stay with him, but he needed to go figure himself out first.

Perhaps it was the hours he spent on the job. Perhaps it was the women and the booze. Perhaps it was his refusal to give her a child. Paul considered changing some of these things in his life, things that brought him some slight glimmer of happiness in his otherwise dreary existence. Could he really consider taking away all his joy for a chance at a normal life with a wife and family?

Marie, who would call him everyday for the first year, Marie who called less and less these days. Marie, whose apartment Paul's unmarked sedan pulled in front of. He hadn't realized he had even driven this way tonight. Paul opened the door and stepped out.

---

Bluish smoke swirled up from the tip of the S&W .357 Paul was holding in his right hand. All in all he preferred the revolvers to the newly issued semi-autos that the kids were strapped with these days. Looking down upon the golden crown of the body slumped on the red-tinged floor Paul breathed a sigh of morose sanguineness. No longer would he play Hamlet in this malevolent construct of Marie's. The die was cast, the decision finally made; it was done.

This really was the only way to get control back.

---

Bluish smoke swirled up from the plastic ashtray, cigarette planted deliberately between the prongs in the center of the thing. Growing ashes of unsmoked nicotine fell to the pile, Paul's attention was otherwise occupied, balls deep in ebony.

After, spent, Paul counted out two crisp bills and placed them on the nightstand next to his service revolver. A single round remained in the wheel. The woman, a caseworker of lost souls, gathered the money and wished him luck for the evening. "See you later tonight, baby." Paul nodded without looking at her and lay back onto the stained sheets.


paul was downcast because of all the emo bullshit and the suicide was the hope part - also the murder part idiots (13 kB)

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User Reviews


Submitted by Kracka (user info) at 2006-06-24 01:58:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by alwayspeach1 (user info) at 2006-06-23 17:11:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-06-23 16:19:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Well, today I finally achieve 100,000 hits. OUTSTANDING you say? Of course! This is a phenomenal achievement, an impossible dream for the vast, vast majority of the pathetic pieces of garbage who taint this website with their literary nonsense. You know what I'm talking about, just look around; the truth is that unless you have 100,000 or more hits, you really can't consider yourself a serious and respected Uberuser, and your stuff is crap. You're just a no-talent punk.

I guess what I am doing is urging you underlings to reasess your reasons for being on this site, and consider your true ability; face it, you suck. Please quit posting now. We're overpopulated with arrogant shitheads who post simply for the sake of posting and have nothing to say; kindly leave the site to those of us who are popular and talented, we're happy being among ourselves.

Of course there are exceptions; most notably ME, who by 5,000 hits had established myself as a prominent and exceptional writer and humorist with legions of loyal fans on Ubersite. Maybe 2 or 3 others come to mind who started to shine around the 70,000 mark, but that's it. I don't know what it is, but that magic 100,000 number makes all the difference in the world, and without it, you're just not on the radar.

I'd like to say "you're welcome" in advance of all the congratulatory posts I am about to receive, but only from fellow Members of the 100,000 Uberclub. The rest of you simply don't matter. It's been a pleasure sharing my vast wisdom and unstoppable with with 100,000 Club members who appreciate quality and excellence. May we continue to inspire each other forever!
ANd to my main man Bart - I love you, man.

IN closing I would just like to that as our 100,000 Club grows ever so slowly, all you Uberparasites need to keep lookin' up that hill, and be sure to gobble up any crumbs that may roll down the mountain your way; You won't get 100,000 hits if you aren't loved by the people, and no one will love you if YOU SUCK! Obviously, I don't suck at all, so feel free to worship me if you don't already; all of us in the 100,000 club enjoy the roses you throw our way. Thanks.

As a token of affection, I made an abstract "100,000 Hits" collage for your visual enjoyment. There is a secret message contained within, and if you can figure it out, you get +2 from me for life. In the meantime, let your own +2's fly!

Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-06-23 15:45:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2006-06-23 11:34:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-06-23 11:16:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

great story, awesome filename

Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2006-06-23 09:02:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Not your greatest work. I've come to expect more from you. Damn me for that.

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 08:14:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

FUCK YOU GUYS

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 05:56:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

quit feeding my ego, you flatter-er

Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-23 05:54:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2


I gotta work on a story for my journalism class, so here's an undeserved +2.

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 05:24:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I agree



Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-06-23 05:20:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

In retrospect this wasn't all that great. It was good and all, respect du' homey, but this is D-pime madness and I would have preffered a video clip with you boxing a cat and street fighter 2 sounds added in over the top.

SONIC BOOM!

That would have been awesome.

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-06-23 05:02:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

It's not a tale of delightful college hijinks but it will do.

Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:51:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

We both wrote about Paul.

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:50:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I'm in a manic phase right now, and I don't drink during that.

Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:45:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

We could get drunk.

Ohhhhh yeaaaahhhh.

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:41:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

someone told me one time if you wanna be a writer, you gotta write what you know.

Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:39:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Paul married Marie O'Toole when he was twenty-four years old, a decision he regretted by the time he was twenty-five. Probably got married too young, he would always tell himself, it just didn't work out. Marie left him two years prior, when he was thirty seven. She told him that they had grown apart, and she needed time to figure things out. She wanted to stay with him, but he needed to go figure himself out first.

Hmmm...

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:38:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I was just thinking.

I'm pretty downcast with the hope that Kracka will win this round, because I kinda want to sin too.


DOES THAT COUNT?




i hate my title

Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-06-23 04:27:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Twenty of the suckiest minutes of my life.

-- Homer Simpson
Burns, Baby Burns


He's taking funny talk.

-- Homer Simpson
Like Father, Like Clown