Work In Progress

Check the Process of my Writing Here:

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Marsh: Short Story

            I have been stuck in this godforsaken shithole for hours! There’s no reception and there’s no service booth or whatever the hell it’s called! Something is really wrong here. My only communication with the outside world is on the tourism site for this crapshoot of a town. I sure as shit don’t trust it, but nothing else is working so all I have is this Tell Us Your Story page. Thank god I decided to bring my laptop with me.

            I came here on the 12th this month because apparently The Theocratic Marsh is a pilgrimage site of sorts and my boyfriend is a devout believer. Knew him for two years but he never once told me what his faith was. This swamp is supposed to be some divine landscape in his studies. What’s the big fuss about it? Dead vegetation everywhere and it stinks worse than rotting wood burning through a joint!

            There was this booth for tourists filled with pamphlets and merch, shirts and some plushies of what I can best describe as a frog holding a typewriter? Doesn’t matter what it is even if the effer wore a little green party hat and cute eyes with diagonal slits. So what that my boyfriend wanted to buy one? Everyone in the party bought one, even the tourguide! I didn’t get one, so what?

             What the hell somethings wrong with this page or some shit. I had more here and I didn’t type it like this. I don’t know what’s going on, I just want to find someone to get me out of here. I returned to where I thought the booth was WAS WAS! IM SAYING WAS CAUSE IT ISNT FUCKIN HERE ANYMORE! I can’t even with this goddamn bulls

            I don’t know wats going on/ I tried to type someting but my finger got stuck on the key between g and j. Teres no gunk, I’m careful enoug not to drop my laptop, my finger got stuck on noting. Maybe I swear too muc, because it feels like punisment. Te letter burned troug my finger wen I tried to write now te letter is burned under my nail.

            Somebody please elp me! I don’t know if somebody reads tis just get me back ome

            I fell asleep and my finger is normal, but it’s covered in some sludge? I’m too scared to to touc te key wit my and. I’ll try.

            The key isn’t doing anyting anymore.

             I’ve been walking nonstop for ours and I ope someone is reading this and trying to respond someow.

            Someting is not adding up. I’m in a swamp, I’ve been ere for ours, days? I aven’t gotten ungry, tirsty, or tired. In fact, I feel more energetic tan ever! It’s not only my bodily needs, but my computer is strange, aside from the obvious wit watever happened to my key, the battery has not gone down at all since I got lost.

            I’ve been at 94% this whole time.

            I walked around again, still no luck. I can’t see muc troug tese trees and the smell is orrible, but the swamp waters aren’t getting me soaked! My skin and clothes are completely dry, my computer too, after I tripped on a root and plummeted face first into the water. This is even scarier now; I realized that tere’s no life here except for the trees. Swamps are supposed to have snakes and alligators and bugs but noting’s ere, tere as not been one single mosquito!

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Theocratic Marchlands:

A true novel beauty of the unconventional sort!

This majestic landscape is a wonder to nature with a meaning behind the name to support our claim and turn it into fact.

During the fateful Black Death, a new religion in our quaint village was able to take root and grant upon us a miracle. Cast out from their homes by the delirious naysayers of the common world, the followers of the Astounder of the Keys held their faith for their keeper wholeheartedly. When our ancestors let them into our homes they most certainly resigned to death, not believing they had a hope of escaping the inevitable demise of the life they had supported for so long. The guests did not impose, instead building a small settlement in the unexplored swampland where they held onto hope. They carried nought for building but timbers from whence they came and a sapling donning a curious cap not dissimilar to that of a dunce. Within hours of their arrival, the sickness’ fatal elements ceased! Although the town was inflicted with suffering, they could slowly begin to eat and meet once more. Within twenty-six days of their arrival, and no one to see them on their request, the Plague vanished! As a gift, we granted them the right to live wherever they wished for curing our ailments, but they declined, wishing to remain in the swamp, preferring to name it what it is to this day. However. They left another gift; a straw bauble with the visage of a quaint little frog bearing a cap and an apparition resembling what we associate as a “typewriter”! Along with it was a warning: any who dare explore their lord’s territory must carry a symbol of excellence such as the artefact, lest they lose themselves, and to never say words of ill intent in his domain lest the letters be taken from their tongues!

Feel free to pick up a Theo the Frog stuffy from the vendor at the Theocratic Marshlands today!

 

Andre’s Department Store:

No better way to fill your family’s bellies like the cold cut steaks, veggies, fruits, candies, waste, sodas, or endless yields for the entire year at the most affordable prices available only in our town! Andre and his family have been providing all of the essential nutrients and sweets for well over eighty years! Show him some affection with whatever you can give him!

 

Monument to Arnold Trelawney and Terrace

A beloved member of our community stolen from us too soon. He was a kind soul who adored the company of any who would give him the time of day and any who offended him were not welcome to stay by his side. This memorial is placed on a grand platform overlooking the lush, green fields he spent his days looking at… It is said that if you listen carefully you can hear the grass sing. If you remove a blade and make a wish, it is said you will live a long life with the chance of your dream coming true, but it must be pure as not to harm our friend’s memory.

 

Grandal’s Escalating Bunkers:

Fun for the whole family!

An exciting underground camp ground fit with all the amenities you could possibly want! Founded in 19900, Grandal dedicated years of his life to this elaborate series of tunnels for all of the “youngsters and kin” to enjoy, as he once said (I said that accent out loud, good ol’ Grandal)! The grounds feature local restaurants, plays, what the hell is going on!? I see things that aren’t there, I can’t sleep. What are you guys trying to do to me? Grandal is also immortalized as a statue made of old paperclips (his idea, not ours).

Feel free to get your hands on your own specialized harmonica at the sign up for an extra 13.74!

 

Mommy:

Apple orchards? You bet! We have well over 16 acres and have kept this tradition going since the 60s!

Henriette really outdid herself when she and her spouse, Fay, provided such beautiful and impeccably tasty and juicy apples. They grow faster than any other in the world and are guaranteed to put a smile on your face, but we know not all the family or friends want to pick them, so we have pre picked batches prepared for pickup at the main entrance or at Andre’s in town!

We have a little secret from Henriette that’ll interest y’all.

Listenin’?

ERRSKOLMJXJCKY

That’s right, we got afterhours entertainment!

Pleasure yourself with the finest apple cider and decadent apple pie! ADULTS ONLY!

*Kids can get pies at the Barn from 8:00 AM to 10:00 PM