The end of the beginning

Poem

 

THE END

Life doesn’t start at the end, so why am I compelled to write from the end? I don’t know the story, the beginning hasn’t started and the middle is nowhere in sight. But the end, the end is interesting, intriguing and yet, the beginning can’t develop until the end.

A person’s life has to start from infancy but a story is different. A story can start from anywhere the writer wants the reader to begin. Confused? Me too. It’s like watching the end of a movie before watching the beginning. We’ve seen a few movies like that where the ending is shown before the movie starts to keep the watcher watching to see what happened in order to get to that point of the end. Follow me?

For me as a writer the end is the beginning of where I start a new story. I write backwards, from the end to the middle to the beginning. Sometimes I mix it up. I’ll write a chapter and either follow it by the next chapter or write something which leads up to the chapter I just wrote. It’s the way my mixed up brain functions in the world of fiction. I have those annoying finger tapping characters whispering to me at night. The floors creek beneath their buoyant glow as they dare my eyes to shut and sleep prevails. Wick emotions pray upon my dreams snatching the rest that’s much needed, so I rise. Their demands of a captivating story to reveal the evil intents of a twisted end, daring the reader to turn the page before darkness, the delusions real, and the hair on the nape of their neck salute the shadowy figure, which rest quietly behind them. Cool air escaping the pinched translucent lips of what once was a fleshed human.

THE BEGINNING

 

T. Wharton Johnson is the author of The Eye of Lies and other short stories.

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