Blicey's picture

About the author
Blicey
Novel: Underground
Genre: Literary Fiction
34,168 words so far  

About Blicey

Location: New York, New York

Home Region:
USA :: New York :: New York City

Age:18

Website: http://www.prettymuchthecoolestever.blogspot.com

Non-noveling interests: Wash Sq

Joined: October 7, 2004

This Year: Official Participant

NaNoWriMo History:
'04 '05 '06 '07 '08

NaNoWriMo posts: 12

NaNoWriMo buddies: 11

 

Brief Author Bio:

NYU freshman who may or may not have the time and space to write....

Excerpt: Underground

Yes, a crystal sunset in the Village at quarter to five at night in November, blue then pink above the Arch, streaks of pink cloud, you're never sure if the colors are from pollution or the way clouds honestly look, the way clouds looked at home, but the air feels kind of clean and only a little bit smoky and over human, and the trees are yellow red orange green autumn, and a boy in a gray jacket is playing a shiny clean silver trumpet, jazz standards, Mack the Knife, I want to kiss his face, and a woman is walking by wearing autumn colors , green yellow and orange and red, and people are in stylish boots and black coats and one man playing Hacky Sack is in nothing but shorts and shoes because heck it's practically seventy degrees out here even though I'm in a flannel, but there is a little bitty breeze and no sun. Woman in a mint-colored coat now and I think the only way I notice people anymore is by what they are wearing or if they have some kind of insane disfiguration, disfiguring, I don't know the right noun, or if maybe they have crazy hair, but mostly it's the clothes I notice, the city has attuned me so much to fashion. Whenever I walk by I am looking for beautiful clothing so that I can compliment someone on what they're wearing. Or just so I know what to get for myself. That coat for example on the trumpet player fits him well, hangs beautifully, and his hair is red and I respect him and his sweet high cheekbones very much, he can even play Hey Jude on the trumpet, oh that song.
Hey Jude don't make it bad
take a sad song and make it better
remember to let her under your skin
then you'll begin to make it better
Hey Jude don't be afraid
you were made to go out and get her
remember to let her into your heart
then you can start to make it better
na na na na na na na
na na na na hey Jude
I never want to leave. I never want the darkness to come, but here it is, unavoidable, the tone of the blue in the sky already has darkened, the pink has turned more purple, it is getting harder and harder to see.

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