Added "Time Control" Snippet

Christopher Vollick [2011-12-13 01:56]
Added "Time Control" Snippet

This opens a new tag: snippet.
I intend to use it to publish things that aren't even close to full
stories, but I still want to publish.

They should be a narrative of some sort.
Like a sample pulled from a larger (unwritten) work.
diff --git a/time_control.mime b/time_control.mime
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4487d3b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/time_control.mime
@@ -0,0 +1,103 @@
+Title: Untitled: Time Control
+Content-Type: text/prose
+Tag: snippet
+Tag: main
+He dodges through the crowd of statues, making sure not to bump any.
+It wouldn't, in the end, affect anything.
+He could set it right before anyone would notice.
+He just doesn't want to have to put in the effort.
+After the years of this he's gotten fairly good at it.
+A lot of mistakes tend to shape one's abilities.
+It certainly wasn't always this easy.
+The first time had lasted years.
+Much of it was spent deaf, blind, confused, and alone.
+Fear and depression had their moments too.
+In the end the pain led to control. Thankfully.
+The first time started when he was only twelve.
+He was in a train station, much like he was now.
+The train was running a little late, and he was so excited to get onboard.
+He leaned out into the tunnel and saw the headlights coming down the tube.
+His heart fell, along with the rest of his body, onto the tracks.
+Perhaps he'd leaned a little too far, perhaps he'd slipped.
+He may even have been bumped.
+Adrenaline has tarnished the clear memory of those moments.
+It was moments before his mind realized it was falling, and moments later the falling had stopped.
+As he lay in the space between the tracks he forgot himself.
+He focused on the pain, and next the humiliation, long before he could hear the screams.
+His palms hurt. His knees hurt.
+He had hit his face on the ground. Like a fool.
+The world rushed back into his focus so quickly, like waking up from a dream.
+In many ways that's exactly what it was.
+He looked into the face of the oncoming train.
+He looked into blackness.
+Into Oblivion.
+Everything was gone.
+There was no light, no sounds, no sensation of any kind.
+He couldn't feel his face.
+Nor his body.
+His mind worked on this for a while.
+Realization, and slowly panic, set in.
+His thoughts, wildly thrashing about, settled around "Paralyzed".
+Or Worse.
+And others in a long line of thought.
+It went on for eons, and no time at all.
+All this negativity wasn't really getting him anywhere. Was anywhere even a viable concept?
+He gave up the concern.
+It seemed for the moment, whatever that meant, that nothing was immediately important.
+He stopped to think.
+Not on anything in particular, just thought.
+When one is alone in the void, thought is fairly easy to come by.
+Like a flock of birds, his thoughts continued to fly free, but surrounded a central topic.
+He had nothing to lose.
+He focused on his face.
+What was it like to have a face?
+This was something he'd never really needed to ask himself before.
+These were fresh ideas and the memories were stiff.
+Try as he might he couldn't recall "Face".
+He could sense a distinct lack of "Face", but didn't quite know what he needed to fill the hole.
+It's the same feeling as walking into a room and suddenly sensing that something's missing.
+You can point to the empty spot by the wall, but have no idea what you expect to see there.
+After endless time the mechanations budged.
+It seemed so easy, all of a sudden.
+How could he not imagine "Face" before, when it was so obvious now?
+In a rush he felt Face again.
+He could move his mouth, tounge, and blink.
+He could feel the hair settle on his head.
+He could feel that he was choking.
+The red-hot, ice-cold panic shot through him.
+Why wasn't he breathing?
+He couldn't feel anything stuck in his throat.
+He couldn't feel his throat.
+He couldn't feel his lungs.
+Did he ever feel his lungs?
+Does one, in general, sense one's lungs?
+He must have, because he certainly didn't now.
+He slowly realized that while he was pondering these thoughts he'd lost his face.
+With it had gone the choking, and the panic.
+In a lazy way he decided to try again.
+This time, though, he'd need lungs to go with his face.
+This thought seemed rational to one half of him and surreal to the other.