Horror unravels on Twitter

Posted: August 6, 2009 in Live! Blogging.

I have succumbed to the delights of Twitter.  Failing to understand what it is about, I decided to write a Twitter Horror.  130 characters – twice a day.  It is an interestting experiment because I think the trick is to make every tweet (130 characters) into as near as possible functional story on its own, but when it is incoroprated into the other tweets it must flow like a short story.  The story is called  Biting the Bed.  I ripped it from one of my haunting recurring nightmares.  Here’s the first few tweets. If you’re also a twit you can see how this nightmare unfolds.   Just visit AstridStark on Twitter

Biting the Bed.

She can see him in the rear-view mirror; his enormous hands are trembling against the pitchfork. She floors the accelerator, hacks at the radio. It’s the woman who talks to whales. Does she also channel bees? There are too many fly-by and die bees in her house these days.  It reminds her of when she was seven, collecting dead bees in ice-lolly packets; burying them in mass graves.  She already knew then that something terrible was wrong.  The knowing started around the same time the little old men tried to pull her from her bed in the dark of night. How her brother laughed. They’ve been around ever since that first night; no matter where she moved. They didn’t come every night; there were no predictable signs.  One time she saw them in London, shimmering in the passage. She had to go to the loo but they blocked her way.  She peed into a milk jar.   Her mom dropped her off at the shrink. He was smoking a thin pipe. Reminded her of the caterpillar in Alice; he was not as clever though.  She is a jellyfish.  He can see inside her.  She is a leaping duck.  He keeps asking questions anyway.  She doesn’t answer.  Their time is up. After the visit to the shrink she never again spoke of the little men. When they came to her bed she stifled her screams into the pillow.


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