Sunset – Operation Electric Forever – Part 9

[E̠̙̩̩X̙̹̹͇̤̥̳T̸̫͖̥̦͕̱?̫͓͔̗̳̜̳ ̣̬̺͡ͅI͖̣̗̦N͍͍͉T̶͙̖̜̺̬?̶͔̩̰ ̨̮͎̼̰-̛̫͇̜ ̻̞S͘O̰̬̦M̫̠Ȩ̰͉̝Ẉ̻̖Ḩ̱̟̻̤̘̙͔Ẹ̙̠̮̯̬R̤̪̣̟̘͘E̝̹]̗̯

See the boy in centre stage, illuminated and ghastly, pale back arching up towards the sky. Count the knobs and curls of the spine. Count the fine hairs on his arms and legs.

[ENTER FROM STAGE REAR – T̩̬H̩̪̙E̢͍ ̛̮̥͈̞̫D̮̫̦̙́E̜̜̙̻̭̣Ṣ̟̀E̟̭̩ͅR̖̱̫͔͕T]

See a man draped in black, dripping in midnight satin, emerge. See his broad brimmed hat, his gloved hands, his hidden face. The Desert opens his mouth and lets out a stream of bright television static. It’s unintelligible, but also completely understandable.

“Who are you now? After all of this, who are you?”

See the boy. He thought, after all of it, he’d be a different person. He thought that by falling apart he would emerge as something better. He thought that by running away he could control life, that by building his ego he could conquer fear.

A rusting red car, with two tyres missing and an engine full of death, sits in one corner of the stage. In another, a group of people, friendly faces with names like “Max”, “Shelby” and “Floor”, stand watching. They whisper to each other.

On the front of the stage, his sister kneels, phone in hand, trying to find that precious lifeline that will connect them again. She is close, but oh so far.

The boy sits hunched over his own knees, a mottled, papery and fragile human lump. With each careful brush of fingertip against skin, more came off until he sits amongst small mountains of forgotten skin, the fallout from his brush with the sun.

The skin underneath is not new and clean like he had wanted at the beginning of his short adventure, but pink and violent. An eruption of pain and dryness. He went through a wasteland seeking to find himself, but has ended up as part of it.

He falls forward, letting legs come out from underneath him. Laying with chest against the cool grey floor, he admits “there are no fresh starts… I couldn’t find one out there… I want to go home.”

“Nonsense,” The Desert says, “This is your home now.”

[EXIT STAGE REAR – ͓͇̮͖̩͇Ț͙̦͎̱̟H̙͉̮̝̯̩̹E̲̩ ̙̺DESER̗̺̣̜͕T͚̥̰͎]

Dust – Operation Electric Forever – Part 8

[EXT./INT. – THE LAST HIGHWAY – WHITE HOT SKY LOOKS DOWN]

See the boy. He struggles with the car’s air conditioning. For the past two hours it has been spitting out nothing but dusty heat. The car groans and shivers as if in the critical stages of sunstroke.

See the boy, his right arm burnt red raw by the sun, his face a mess of sweat, salt and redness. His beard is thin and scratchy, yet visible. Across from him, sits a tall figure in black, hunched over and spread across the passenger seat like some wet, eldritch thing. Behind the boy, the tall figure in black also sits, sprawled out across the back seat, amongst boxes, bottles and sleeping bags. Around him, the desert sprawls outwards. Somewhere out there, The Desert stands, tall and brooding, drenched in electric midnight, watching.

Tracks – Operation Electric Forever – Part 7

[EXT. – OUTSIDE THE BRACKEN HOUSE – EARLY MORNING]

“She’s all good to go, mate.” Mr. Pfeiffer slapped the bonnet of the rumbling 4WD. He threw the keys to Mr. Bracken.

Mr. Pfeiffer was the type of straight-talking Aussie bloke that Mr. Bracken loved. He had arms the size of tree trunks, a chest covered in thick black hair and fingers stained by the honest art of auto-maintenance. He burped and swore, loved his footy and carried his ancestors’ European surname with just the right balance of pride and self-deprecation.

Mr. Pfeiffer was the type of loud-mouthed Aussie bloke that Perrie Bracken hated. He had arms that swung too wildly, a chest that should be hidden under a proper shirt and hands that looked like sausages that had been left out in the sun for too long. He burped and swore, loved his stupid macho ball game and didn’t really play to well with anyone who wasn’t also a European descendant.

“Couple’a cans’a gas in the back, ‘case ya need ‘em. Maps in the GPS and under the seat. Just gotta bring some water and stuff with ya.”

“Thanks, mate. I can’t thank you enough for this.” Mr. Bracken said.

“It’s no problem at all. She wasn’t getting much use with me. Better to go to a good cause. I just hope you find the lad soon.”

“We all do.”

Photographic Evidence – Operation Electric Forever – Part 6

[EXT./INT. – LUKE’S CAR – THE SUN BLAZES THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF A RUSTING RED FORD LASER]

See the boy in centre stage. That is, in the centre of the entire world. As his vehicle rips and tears through the rugged landscape, the planet moves around him like an endlessly repeating pantomime panorama.

A town passed by about an hour ago. The audience (that’s you) surely would have seen the boy leave his car on the side of a wide road in the middle of that town, walk into a quaint convenience store and pick up a veggie pasty and an iced coffee. What the audience would never have been able to guess without narration is that the boy would have loved a curry pie, stuffed full of beef and oil… but his character is a vegetarian at this stage of the story.

“Wise choice.” said the shimmering black mass that was sitting patiently in the passenger seat. “Appearing to care is one of the most important things in this life.”

[ENTER FROM THE DRIVER’S SIDE DOOR: THE BOY]

“I do care. I don’t want to hurt anything that has feelings.”

[Mockingly] “Then why drive a car? Why wear a leather belt?” The Desert asks the boy. The creature speaks in a rough hum, like the background radiation of the Big Bang, but even still, the question sounds cruel.

[Defensively yet apathetic] “Shut up” says the boy.

Memory One – Operation Electric Forever – Part 5.5

[EXT. – HEADING OUT – AROUND NOON]

See the boy, feet in the dust, sitting half-way in and half-way out of a rusting red car. See him parked on the side of a long and winding highway, a road to the Everywhere that he is chasing.

The engine cools and the wind blows through the open windows. There is a fine layer of orange dust growing on the back seat, a back seat already covered with boxes upon boxes of food, water, tool kits, toiletries… whatever really.

The see the boy flick through the glowing box in his hand. He is looking for clues, memories, stories to guide him. He is looking for support from people that he has hardly talked to in years. He is looking for recognition.

See the boy retreat into memory. As he lifts his gaze and stares into the slowly undulating horizon, see lights flicker on his mind. Delve deep into his thoughts and see the images and memories unfold.

Roads – Operation Electric Forever – Part 5

[EXT./INT. – LUKE’S CAR – PINK SUNRISE OVER A HORIZON]

See the boy’s white knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel. It is made of red hot and blistering rubber. Hear the air-conditioning working overtime to cool the rusting red box.

See through the windows of the vehicle, the endless flat stage of red dust and sunburnt scrub. It halts, five kilometres away, at a wall of pale blue. The car is silent apart from the complaints of the air-conditioning, the low rumbling of the small engine and a scratchy pop-tune playing over a radio. The car has no antenna.

See the boy’s eyes fixed on the road in front of him, wide and straight as an arrow. At the speed he is travelling one wrong move, one wheel in the dust, one kangaroo bouncing wildly, would be a disaster. Suspense for the sake of suspense!

[ENTER FROM SOMEWHERE – THE DESERT]

Clouds – Operation Electric Forever – Part 4

[EXT? INT? – LOST – SOMETIME]

See the boy in centre stage. Around him, a circle of ghosts, a spectral audience. They swap phrases and faces until one cannot be sure where each one begin and end.

See the boy suddenly strike out at the ghosts. He rants and raves at the unstoppable mutation around him. The ghosts shout back with smoke-like words until a dense cloud floats a few feet above the stage. See the boy almost lose sight of himself in the fog.

[ENTER FROM STAGE LEFT: THE DESERT]

See The Desert walk slowly towards the slowly sinking boy. It pulls a small box from its dark robes and hands it to the boy. See the boy take a mask from the box.

He walks out of the fog and over to the crowd of ghosts and attempts to blend in.

The Desert asks, “Where are you?”

Ghosts – Operation Electric Forever – Part 3

[EXT – THE PUB – EVENING]

“Beer? Beer? And you, man? You want one?” Max asked everyone at the table, one by one, whether they wanted another round instead of taking the initiative and just doing it. Luke hated that. Max had to make a big deal out of everything.

“You want one?” He asked again, “Yo, Luke, you there, man?”

Luke lifted his head from his phone, pretended to shake off the accumulated dust of focused concentration and stretched. He let his loosely curled fist fly outwards recklessly.

“Oh, sure, man. Yeah, whatever.”

“Alright. You get next round.”

The Digital Writers’ Playbook – Part 1

See the boy in centre stage, surrounded by a mountain of paper that is threatening to topple over. One slight breeze and… see the boy no more.

+++

It’s no real secret that contemporary Australian writers, especially young Australia contemporary writers, are in a constant state of negotiation for time and resources. With a billion and one worries, electric selves to manage and money to earn, sometimes it’s hard to get into a good groove for writing.

Like This – Operation Electric Forever – Part 2

[INT – LUKE’S ROOM – EVENING]

See the boy at his screen, hunched over, glowing a ghost blue. His fingers are mobile, going crazy, tap tap tapping away at a thousand unseen problems.

See the boy’s eyes dart to and fro, always searching, locking on and then moving forward. See the colour of his glow pulse, grow dark and then reappear again brighter than ever.

He’d complain of boredom but he knew that wouldn’t help anything. He’d just have to keep going… keep posting. Keep lyi… No that’s not the word, he thought to himself.