Jimmy

Jimmy appears again…

Greetings world! I feel much more like my usual self after attending the Ink Slingers Guild meeting in the flesh on Wednesday! Lisa tempted me to the dark side with her spaghetti and garlic bread (delicious!) and my chocolate chip cookies went down well 🙂

Also, I heard rumors of the fourth book of Guardians of the Path, so stay tuned for confirmation of those rumors.

Here are the first two writing exercises. I dedicate these to Erika, for obvious reason. My word also came from the shirt she was wearing, so it’s fitting in more ways than one. Enjoy another death of Jimmy!

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lap, oil, token,

Jimmy paid his token, and waited nervously for the hooded figure to examine it,
then wave him onto the boat. Jimmy gave a nod of thanks to the imposing figure,
though he didn’t know if it could see him from under the rotting black hood.
The boat wobbled when Jimmy stepped onto it, and for a moment he teetered,
afraid he was going to fall into the dark, oily water lapping the sides, but
someone grabbed his arm and pulled him to safety. Jimmy breathed a sigh of
relief, and looked to see who had rescued him.
It was a young woman, cradling a baby in her lap. She smiled at him, and Jimmy
swallowed a scream of fright, because that would’ve been impolite. Her flesh was
grey and rotting, and most of her teeth were gone. Scabs and running sores that
had yet to scab mottled what little of her skin remained. The baby was much the
same.
Jimmy swallowed, smiled back, and thanked the gods that the seats beside her
were taken. On one side was a man with a stump of a neck still weeping blood,
his head held carefully under his arm. On the other was a man blue and bloated,
a tendril of seaweed hanging out of his nose. The drowned man nodded to Jimmy as
he walked by, and Jimmy averted his eyes.
He tried not to look at anyone directly, so he wouldn’t have to smile or say
anything. He found a seat at the back of the boat, and sat, adjusting himself so
the spear in his side didn’t twist further in.
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goat (my word), gondola, max,

Jimmy stared at his knees, not really thinking of anything. The last thing he
remembered wasn’t too pleasant, so when the hazy pictures of battle popped into
his head, he tried to bury them under other things. I wonder if this is what a
gondola ride would be like, he mused. Death’s barge was nothing like an Italian
pleasure ride, but it helped take his mind off battles and screaming men.
He barely noticed when the boat drifted to a stop, or the thudding footsteps
coming his way, but when someone sat down next to him, he definitely noticed the
spear tear through what was left of his stomach and poke his liver.
“Sorry,” a high-pitched voice said. “Sorry. I’m – I’m just going to sit here.”
Jimmy looked up. It was a young boy. Several of his limbs looked like they were
broken, in multiple places. His neck was also slightly skew. He looked lost,
alone, and terrified. Jimmy took pity on him.
“Hi. What’s your name?”
“I’m Max,” the boy said, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “How much
longer?”
Jimmy looked around, then wished he hadn’t. “I’m not sure,” he
said in a kind voice. “The boats pretty full, so I don’t think it should be too
much further.” The boy started to cry, and Jimmy patted him awkwardly on the
shoulder, then stopped when the boy winced.
“I was chasing the stupid goat,” Max explained when he saw Jimmy look down at
the cuts and bruises on his arm. “I didn’t see the cliff.”

__________________________________________________________

And on that not, you can look forward to The Purge of Jimmy – the sequel to The Death of Jimmy – later this year, brought to you by the Ink Slingers Guild.

Until next time,

❤ DragonBeck

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The Magic Brew (with an appearance by Jimmy)

In preparation for the ISG meeting tonight, I wrap up the exercises from the last meeting with this:

On our third and final exercise of the evening, I read last. I got five words into it, and everyone started laughing. After I was done, we reminisced about our tales of Jimmy In The Death of Jimmy. “We used to kill a Jimmy a meeting,” Erika said, a little wistfully. “We don’t kill enough Jimmys any more.”

Which is true, but sometime he makes an appearance 😉

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trip, blink, coffee,

Jimmy stumbled down the stairs, almost tripped on the dog, and stood there blinking as he tried to remember where the kitchen was. He didn’t remember that, but he did seem to recall this was not in fact his house. He looked around. The dog raised its head, and wagged its tail.
“Nice doggie,” he said.
The dog yawned and went back to snoozing. Jimmy looked around again and decided the most logical place for the kitchen to be was through those doors. He was right. He stood there for a moment, thinking about his next course of action. Coffee, he thought.
It took him five minutes and searching through first the top cupboards and then half the bottom cupboards before he found something which resembled a french press. The coffee was easier. A jar on the bench labeled such beckoned. He took a pot and filled it with water, then set it on the stove. Taking a matchbook out of his pocket, he lit it and watched as the water began to head, pacing around the kitchen.
It was only after his first sip of the magic brew that he became alert enough to begin putting things together. Or not so much together as at least there. He had no idea where he was. He had no memory of getting there. He actually could not remember a single thing before waking up this morning.
“Hello, my dear,” a voice said behind him.
Jimmy yelped and dropped his drink. He spun around, but the coffee had made the floor slick. He had time to marvel at the beauty of strange yet alluring creature with long blue hair and shining wings in the doorway as his feet flew up into the air over his head.

Poor Jimmy!

More to come soon,

❤ DragonBeck