Ryderscape Fiction

[Deleted]

"Bookmarked"


Nathan Cole sat down on the comforting black leather bench facing the small gallery
room's narrowed entrance from the Shutterbanger Museum's main hallway, feeling a bit
frazzled.

Being both sleek and modern in appearance, the surreal feel of the place was indeed
new to him.

In fact, the whole experience was starting to seem unreal to him, to be truthful, as
he still held that small abandoned bookmarker he found there in the middle of the
red-carpeted floor, between a large mirror on one side of the room and an
equally-sized framed color portrait of his favorite actress smiling breathtakingly at
the opposite.

The rising unfamiliarity wasn't over for him there, it was about to get more unreal.

Just moments after he'd come back from the lobby, he soon rose with eyes of unbelievable
surprise when in front of him he had finally seen her - she had returned, with a book
in hand - looking for her lost worthwhile treasure and then finding it in a stranger's
caring hands, instead.

The starry smile of the exhibited actress lit up the scene with a most unique and happy
intensity as Nathan slowly handed her what she, and he himself, had undoubtably been
missing.

[Charles]

Very nice, Michael . . . perhaps the thread will catch on . . .

[phil]

Beautiful, just bee uuu tee full.

[Deleted]

Charles, Phil...thanks.

[Deleted]

"The Ice Breaks"


She noticed him over by the dimly-lit empty tables near the back wall, looking around
for something with repetitious interest, and then oddly back at the festival's party
guests gathering towards the front of the room, after watching a Vince Vaughn ice-carving
film comedy. Vince was so hysterical everyone wanted to spar humor with him.

But the beautiful woman continued to curiously watch the seeker until she seen what he was
looking for: a glass that was left filled with pink champagne.

Maybe it was just random curiosity or even perhaps a smoke break that brought her to this
man's different existence.

Surely for her there was much excitement elsewhere, especially with Vaughn and company.

Who knows what it could have been, but for some unknown reason she began to walk over close
to the stranger, just to his right.

She noticed he was wearing a Grayman suit of all things, with the gray tie hanging loose
around his unbuttoned collar.

She imagined, that to him, it was not at all a real comfort to have the tie choke him into
the next life.

He didn't even see her coming at all until she was just a few feet away.

She spoke first.

"Your not trying to steal someone's drink are you now?"

The man was gravitated by her familiar voice, his amused eyes moved to see hers.

"In my defense, a useful drink like this one should never be abandoned."

The inquisitive woman slightly chuckled.

The drink thief casually held out his hand for hers, "Hi, I'm Michael Wryter."

Giving her hand to him lightly, with a concerned look.

"Now is that your last name or do you mean that your a writer?" Her expression hinted
uncertainty.

"Both, actually. But I guess you could say its a strange coincidence because I have tried
to write before at several occasions." He said, trying to smile confidently.

"Oh. Do you have anything published?" The woman seemingly inquisitioned.

"Oh, for God's heaven no. I'm too anti-grammar to go through all that swill. But I do, on
occasion, scribble some scrabble about what interests me and then somehow try to somehow
have it all cross and come together."

"Hmm, shucks. Okay then, must I tell you who I am, or do you already know?"

"Well, yes. But I wouldn't mind hearing you say your own sweet name."

Michael continually smiles as she glowed back at him.

"Um, ok. Hi. I'm Winona Ryder." Both laughing, at the obvious.

It was then that Michael peered down and noticed that the white evening dress she was
wearing had what seemed like very small laced black butterflies at the bottom.

"That's a very interesting dress you have there."

"Oh, Thank you." Winona replied, blushingly.

"Those..they are..." Michael pointed down, but remained looking into her big brown eyes.

"...black butterflies? Yep." She confirmed his suspicion.

Michael just beamed at her. The lovely actress was finally ready to open herself up to his
equally confident intensity.

Just to the left of them, they were both drawn towards the wide open balcony outside.

As they continued out into the open night, sharing glances with each other, the cool warm air
smelled of swaying lavender and pine. All the while, the Bay City's lights flickered like the
bright stars above, far beyond a hopeful, bluish crescent moon.

***

This was the final edit (1.17.15). It finally suited me just fine.

[Charles]

Very nice, again, Michael . . .

[phil]

a splendid touch

[Deleted]

"Some Hot Coffee"


"So tell me," her eyes moored, smilingly, across
the way to his, "how do you like your morning
coffee?"

"Quick and hot, with a few drops of cream...,"
murmured the still sleepish man, coming
towards her.

The waifish woman smiled as he leaned in very
close to her, his lips whispering, touching
"with a sweet kiss of honey."

"And how do you like yours, miss?" He asked.

"This will do just fine, thank you."

Her downed-eyes couldn't escape his for long.

[Deleted]

Lovely, Just Darn Lovely

By Jess Dandy, a loathed Hollywood culture critic writing for Look At Me! Magazine


I just had to go walk into this place called Destino's (by the way, destiny it's not) a small Euro-American shop-hop here in Santa Frisco somewhere, surprisingly looking like I would when I'd be entering such a place as this - feeling just a wee bit sober - away from where I wanted to be, which was just about anywhere outside of this place (well, somewhere else it had to be, I'm sure of it..with a drink, or two, perhaps.)

I mean I'm a sensible, direct man, but I'm guessing most men just don't go hob-knobbing around in these places all alone without so much as a cat-walker by their side. And I had no cat walker with me today. Oh, no! Unless, of course now, it's a whole new swell experience, just shy of something like trying to land on the moon with a freaking holler-monkey co-pilot thrashing about the controls or something, then crashing:

I just happened to come along with my crazy personal-assistant on one of her rumored wacky surprise fashion binges after having a rare work lunch together.

Swell (more like Hell's Bell rang, really.)

Anyway, as I scanned around the whole place, seeing if all eyes where on me - the only male in the store - I did see, what most people considered the most amazing looking actress, Winona Ryder, no male friend in tow, over by all those jazzy-jazz hats, groovy black and white striped ties and what looked like small, leather hand-held sleeping bags (sometimes my honesty does come out, oh well.) God, I tell you, its true, that must be one of the things that truly makes her really happy.

Did I mention she looked fantastic? Lovely, just darn lovely.

Anyhow, I felt struck (or stuck, I'm not really sure) and so I instinctively tried to find the front entrance. Just seeing it, I stared helplessly outside through all the front windows, wondering what other wild excitement I might be missing out there somewhere. Anyhow, as I was quietly disgruntling, I then labored ahead and horribly tripped over something that most obviously should have never ever been on the floor in the !?!%!&! first place: my own assistant's rather large sleeping bag! I mean I nearly fell flat on my face, man! And, if it weren't for my assistant yelling, "Oh my god! You Fell! Let me help you get up!" anyone and everyone wouldn't have seen me in a blundering bliss, because you see, I would've decided to graciously stay where I lay, or crawl even...through that labyrinth of hanging womanly fabric, just to get to that darn liberating front door (oh what a sweet thought that was!) 

But, gee guess what, that was just not going to happen. Because, apparently, humility just happens to be one of many of life's crude gifts that continually keep on giving!

Swell. Just darn swell, I tell ya.