Skip to main content

Diary of Adrian Hooper: Rewrite this story.

Diary of Adrian Hooper: Rewrite this story.
Originally Published by Jason Cochrane on Mar 22, 2016 at 07:51 AM


There's a block on the edge of this town no one talks about
Where the train doesn't stop and the kids know they're not getting out
You live in the loop, the smokes on the stoop
Counting the coins you got
You work at a bar where all that you are is everything you're not
Someone tell me when
I can start again
And rewrite this story
How long can I stay
Lost without a way to rewrite
I wish I could rewrite this story

The voice rang out around the guitar. It was masculine, rich, vibrant and passionate. The drums rolled behind the guitar. A feminine voice followed on.

Pretty face, pretty voice; pretty much someone they forget
Hard to tell me apart from the ten other girls they just met
"We can't see the hook, we can't sell the look"
I hear it every day
"You won't be a star if you're who you are"
So I just fade away
Make me someone new
Tell me what I do to rewrite this story

The two voices joined with the instruments.

How long can I stay
Lost without a way to rewrite
I wish I could rewrite this story
Change every word of every line
Write any story but mine
Someone tell me when
Can I start again
And rewrite this story
Yeah, Yeah
How long can I stay
Lost without a way to rewrite
Rewrite
I wish I could rewrite this story

The guitarist, an almost impossibly tall and well built man turned his sweat sopped form towards the diminutive drummer. The drummer ran her hands through her insanely red mane-like hair. Around her stray strands captured the light and lit her head like a fieiry halo. She artfully arched an eyebrow at the guitarist.

"So Lunk. Over the nerves yet?" It was a friendly teasing tone.

The man carefully lowered the guitar to it's stand. "Nope."

The woman slid back the throne and walked over to the man. She was little over half his height. As she wrapped her arms around his torso she was mentally measured the man's size. His nerves had clearly settled as his powers were under control and he was back to normal, enourmous size.

"You got this," she murmurred encouragingly. "Now I," and she paused, "got this."

There was a momentary rush as water was flung from the two.

"Ah! The instruments!" the man cried in terror dashing to the guitar.

The woman watched him with amusement. "I was careful."

After a few moments of inspection the man turned. "Yes dear. You were. I guess I am nervous. This is a big step from teaching at Claremont." Despite his assurance he moved the guitar to its case.

The woman leaned against the wall. "I don't see how Adrian? Surely it's not as big a step as having children?"

The man flustered. "No... well... yes... It's different. Tara, I can't really get sacked by our daughter. She's stuck with me as her Dad."

Tara was once again bemused. "These baby superheroes can't sack you either dear."

"No," Adrian noted ruefully, "But Director Thorne can and you know how she can be. I don't want to screw this up."

"Come here," Tara instructed and Adrian obedeiently went to her. Tara stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around Adrian's neck. "You're not a screw up. You won't screw this up. Whoever they assign to you will get a great liaison." She kissed him soundly.

"Your time at Claremont was a great life but a different life," reminded Tara. "Go on. This is a new chapter. No need to rewrite anything. Just be yourself."

"I love you," he professed.

"I know." Tara wore her cat who got the cream smile. She gave him a shooing motion with one hand before adding, "Don't you dare wake Jenniffer."

Adrian broke their embrace and moved to leave. "Yeah. I gotta go get ready. If Jenniffer is still asleep when I go, kiss her for me when she wakes up."

"I will." Tara then called him back. "Oh, Adrian! If Jane stops by don't let her throw you off your game and tell her to stop bothering you at work."

His reply was doubtful. "I'll try."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Freedom League Logs: Intake Day

Freedom League Logs: Intake Day Originally Published by Jason Cochrane on Mar 25, 2016 at 05:31 AM The gleaming space station turned lazily on it's axis. Below it the Earth slowly passed. The space station was known as "the Lighthouse", the beacon in the night, the shining light and, of course, base of operations for the Freedom League. By one of the viewing platforms stood a figure. It's skin was orange brick. It's kilt and cowl were the colour of green glass. It's face was impassive. Within the face two eyes glowed the dull orange of streetlights. "Johnny Rocket," the figure intoned solemnly, "we must depart shortly. As the fastest of men I would have expected that you not make us tardy." A gust of air preceded the arrival of a man by less than a heartbeat. "Chil, Doc. We got time." "Captain Thunder and Lady Liberty left some time ago," Doctor Metropolis continued with little hint of emotion. "One migh...

Patience on Intake Day

Patience on Intake Day Originally Published by Jason Cochrane on May 30, 2016 at 08:19 AM A card was turned and then placed. Another card was turned. And another. The second was placed. Archard Cole was methodical. Turn. Place. His delicate ebony hands worked with precision and speed, much like his mind. The cards were quickly placed in four piles. He scooped the cards together and deftly shuffled. Turn. Turn. “Special Agent Cole?” It was an inquisitive voice. Female. Polite. Archard did not turn towards the speaker. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready Sir?” Place. Turn. Place. “I am ready.” His melodic voice was calm and carried little emotion. “Are you okay Sir? You seem… withdrawn.” The unseen inquisitive woman continued. “I am very much okay. Some might say salubrious.” Archard continued to lay cards. The woman paused. “I’m sorry Sir. I don’t know what that word means.” She moved into view. The speaker was large, heavy set. She had a strong jaw and defined features. ...

Shadow of Intake Day

Shadow of Intake Day Originally Published by Jason Cochrane on May 25, 2016 at 08:13 AM Shadow breathed deeply. She sat calmly in lotus. The Zen garden surrounded her. It’s delicately raked sand was dotted with manicured miniature trees. Clear the mind. Release your grip. Become nothing. Be nothing. Hold nothing. Become an empty vessel. Be no one. Shadow continued to breathe deeply. In her mind’s eye Shadow could see a cloud of swirling lights biting at her. Their constant nibbling away at her sense of self, her very soul. Breathe. Release. As Shadow become nothing the spectral gnats slowly dissipated. The echoes of others, traces of personality if you will, calmed and shed. Breathe. What was once Shadow sat in meditative peace with the universe. The sound of a gong reverberated. Awareness returned to the vessel that was once Shadow. Shadow was gone. Simone was once more simply herself. A paper door was gracefully opened. A delicate woman in a jade green kimono g...