The stories of Bryan Young

This is a poem I wrote for a character in a screenplay. I'm no poet. A rogue as I deserves not beauty and perfection as she. Virtue and titles and monies mean nothing to those as we. All I've wanted I've fought for, all I've needed I've swindled, all I've loved is you. The love of one Julia is all I ask, the love of one Julia is all I live for, and to glance upon her beauty forevermore...

She awoke at about five in the morning to the incoherent shouts of her husband and a firm fist in the face. “Jimmy?” she asked, panicked, stinging still from the blow he landed. “But… Who… And…” Jimmy was shouting nonsense and flailing his arms about, his face contorted in anger. “It was just… Wha…?” “Jimmy? Are you okay?” She asked again, shaking him hopes of rousing him from his deeply troubled sleep. And as though it never happened, his confusing tirade turned to gentle snoring. Unfortunately for Shannon, though, she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her face was hot where the bottom of his fist made contact with her eye and the adrenaline rush of having been aroused from her slumber in that way made it impossible to continue resting. Leaving Jimmy to rest, she got out of bed and wrapped her terry robe around her slender frame and left the bedroom. This story appears as part of the collection " The Cruel Kids: Four Short Stories ".  You can get it for the  Kindle

Here's a short film I was writing for a friend and his step-dad as some type of acting exercise but never finished. It would have been good. I found the beginning I wrote for it, but decided to rewrite it for the ol' short story blog. I hope it doesn't suck too bad. (Also, expect another short story proper in the next week or two...) And lease bear with me on the format, blogger still just doesn't like any semblance of screenplay format. I/E. CAR - CITY STREETS - DAY SHADE drives through town, headed to a specific destination. He’s talking on his cellphone, presumably to his mother. SHADE ...it was just great, I still can’t believe it. (beat) Yeah. That’s what I thought, too. But when he just sort of hit me with it, he said, this is what he said, he says, “Son...” He’s interrupted... SHADE (CONT’D) Yeah, totally. He called me “son.” Can you believe that? Anyways, he says, he says, uh, “Son, there is no one I would rather have on the ground in Madrid.” And then he