World Record Attempt Fatality Laughter Extract VI

World Record Attempt Fatality Laughter Extract VI

A Story by Brett Hernan

This is the last paragraph I have transcribed from my notebooks and represents as far as I have progressed as yet. I'm on page 130 of 280 and when finished I will be publishing it all as an e-book.


   It will be raining when you leave. Must be in the stream beside the disused train station. The weather reports were all only bad, dead trees like decaying, discarded serial killer victims' rib cages of sky fallen, crow feathers, blown away into a stray mist of stagnant water droplets. That was all they had left now, turning a card to reveal the death's head moniker and cringing away. Ice fumed round the curled talons, through grey cloud light beams dappled on the fake, plastic, grassy field like painted spots on a pantomime horse costume. They were all hidden below the baby's crib, listening to its various gurgles, but without the ability to decipher intent. We just go where ever we like now that all the street signs have been removed. The house had had every door and window left open and when the wind blew through they would swing back and forth manically, as though moved by an unseen hand searching for some object that was not there. Those expert in the disguising of their voices had seduced her.

© 2019 Brett Hernan

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Added on May 12, 2019
Last Updated on June 22, 2019


Brett Hernan
Brett Hernan

Hobart, Tasmania, Australia

Low-resolution sample only. Born 1968. All of the images accompanying each of these written works are my own. (Except that one of the guy putting a flower into a soldier's rifle barrel!) more..