Beyond The Ouroboros

Then somebody died.

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 18:32:00 +0000

Julien. His Bedroom

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 09:52:00 +0000

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Julien when straight up to his room, locked the door and turned his television on. Then he surveyed his room; the book shelves full of games, his bed, the wardrobe, the posters and the toys that he no longer needed or wanted to play with any more.

The iPhone posed a number of problems, problems that he decided could be sorted out over time but the most pressing issue was hiding it and keeping it quiet.

The phone was now his secret possession and he wanted to keep it that way.

Charles. Hotel Royal.

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 08:30:00 +0000

Charles knew that the Hotel Royal was not within budget but, as far as he was concerned; if a man had to travel to this damn country to work on a yoghurt account, then that man had the god given right to sleep in a half way decent hotel.

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Standing at the window and looking down at the Place Bellecour he felt the tension subside a little. The client meeting wouldn’t be until the afternoon and there was the meet-up in the lobby in the evening. He was actually quite looking forward to that he realized. He’d never actually met any of these people but it felt like he’d known them forever.

Julien. Place de Fourvière

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 09:04:00 +0000

He couldn't believe his luck. He just couldn't believe his luck. He'd wanted one of these for Christmas but his mother had told him that he was simply too young to have one. Now he had one. What could have been a boring day wondering around some boring old catherdal listening to some old fool waffle on about windows, ghosts and stonework had just turned into some quite magical.

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He found it under a pew. He'd just wondered off leaving his parents nodding and asking the old chap about a stain glass window that had once been removed. He'd sat down and prayed that it would be over soon; that he would be able to go home and lock himself in his room. Then he spotted it.

He bent down and pretended to tie his shoe laces, took it and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He stood up and rejoined his parents. Julien had just bagged himself an iPhone.

Saul. Pizza Pino.

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 14:38:00 +0000

Saul sat in his corner of Pizza Pino, sipped contentedly on his rich dark coffee, flicked casually through his copy of Le Monde and watched the hustle and bustle pass him by. A small but delicious pleasure.

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With a little effort he could have worked out how many times he had sat at this table; how many hours, days, weeks - could it even be years he'd tallied up? How many times had he wiped the coffee from his moustache and how many times had he used the back of his hand to do it? Had the moustache been a deep brown bush of bristles when he had first sat here or had it always be this grey? Had the back of his hands always looked so old, boney and flecked with brown or had the first wipe been achieved with smooth white skin?

Saul stretched out his arms and looked at his hands, chuckled and decided that, at eighty five years old, it was a complete waste of his precious time remaining to consider his squandered time past. No, he decided, his precious time remaining should be spent sitting in Pino's, drinking coffee and watching charming, young, female tourists attempt to cross the road.

Claire. Place Bellecour.

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 15:12:00 +0000

As Claire stood at the center of the Place Bellecour she felt the uncontrollable urge to cry. After four weeks of travelling through Europe, with all the language problems and the cultural differences, the homesickness was more than she thought she could bear.

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She considered for a moment that this sudden breakdown; this deviation from youthful adventure, may have something to do with the Place Bellecour – a huge orange square; empty, except for Louis XIV and an enormous Ferris Wheel. She was lonely, lost and surrounded on all sides by pounding traffic.

Beyond The Ouroboros

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus Brown) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 11:58:00 +0000

Over the course of the last couple of months I've been working on a story. I've been making mental notes, doing some very rough research and generally thinking about where this story could go and what it could be. It feels like the time has come to start drafting the story; to type down the words that have been whizzing around my head for all of these months.

I don't want to give away too much of the story away but it is about a middle aged man who is never named. We see the world through his eyes. UPATE: I've now released an early draft of the prologue so that you can get more of a feeling about where this is going. You can download and read it here.

The writing of this story takes place here on my laptop. Words will be typed and the story will be shared, in one form or other when it is finally completed which, I suppose, is the typical process of writing a story. I would, however, like to do a little more. Because I know how the story will be written I'd like to create, or even co-create an additional narrative stream that I will be using not only for research purposes but to introduce a range of characters, narratives and settings that won't actually be described in the final story.

"Beyond The Ouroboros" will become a selection of short stories from characters that will appear in the final story, but never actually find a voice. The short stories may, or may not be connected. Only time will tell.

I'd also like to open up my research for discussion and involvement. I'd like you to get involved too. I've recently discovered that FriendFeed (thank you David)is perfect for collecting, discussing and sharing research and you are more than welcome to join the Beyond The Ouroboros FriendFeed group to comment on the stories that will appear here and contribute research that you may think is useful or interesting.

If you're new to FriendFeed, here's a video that shows you how you can get involved:

Using FriendFeed from Marcus Brown on Vimeo.

All of the work created here is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license and you are actively encouraged to take, rework and develop your own work based upon any of the stories that appear here, as long as you apply to the rules of that license.

It would be fantastic if you could spread the word about this project and it would be wonderful if you could get involved.

Much love,
Marcus.