just brushing up the final elements of the story. :)

The Rock

Cold... so cold, thrusting tendrils of ice pierced a mind roused into awareness by its cognizance.

'Seeing', for the first time, it surveyed a waste land of snow and ice and wondered...

'Who am I? What am I?'

Such thoughts could wait, for there were more pressing concerns. Roused from a slumber riven by cold its very fabric was being assaulted, caressing fingers turned to claws as every flaw; every weakness was uncovered and exploited, with a screel of sundering stone, the awakened being plummeted to the frozen ground far below.

How long it lay there, its body wracked by the elements, was beyond knowing. Yet within a wondering rest, a barren landscape slowly changed. Ice warmed by a wintery sun morphed into water and as it slipped deeper into a growing lake that would one day become a sea, a slow thought finally formed.

'I am me!'

Nameless 'It' sank, for It had no need for names, there was no conversation, no other being to share its thoughts, so with a stoic shrug of nonexistent shoulders It settled gently into a bed of rocky shallows and with nothing else better to do, observed the worlds revolution.

Lakes turned to sea and with the sea came life. Barely noticed creatures settled into crevices while tiny fronds grew into a verdant forest. It quite liked that. 'Better than cold.' It thought as a green cloak was hugged tight. Other creatures followed, larger predatory beings, hunting, chasing. It watched on in wonder at the miracle of birth and felt a curious envy.

'What would it be like to bring young into the world?' 'He?' The thought tickled his fancy. 'Yes He!' It seemed right, yet superfluous, a conceit born out of a wish to be part of the life that surrounded him.

Buffeted by storm and tugged by tide, he witnessed the fiery birth of brethren spewing forth from an undersea eruption. Desperately he tried to reach out, to communicate, anything to ease the ache of loneliness, a melancholy that had seemingly descended upon him from nowhere.

'They're mute, perhaps in time I will hear their voice.' With that comforting thought he settled down to watch his silent brood.

Sudden movement broke an age of watching.

'I moved!?' Inconceivable, not since his awakening had he felt such sensation.

Distress at the scattering of his charges merged with an eager excitement. A journey beyond his wildest imaginations was about to begin. Yet as the foundations of his world shifted a disquieting realisation dawned. He had diminished. Weathered by the passing currents, eroded by the creatures that had made a home upon him, he was less than before.

'How strange! I feel more, so how can I be less? By thinking have I consumed myself, a cannibalisation of self to feed the mind? Is that possible?' It was a hurried, almost panicked thought.

His charges were dispersing yet they too were suffering the same malaise. Realisation dawned as a small fish scuttled away from a suddenly mobile home. Time had taken its toll.

'They have not even found their voice. Is it too late for them?' A question he barely understood remained unanswered.

A journey of inches turned slowly to feet then to miles. Gathering pace he found himself swept away. Leagues traversed in a single bound were followed by years of impatient waiting. Each halt each lingering pause a revelation, new creatures seen whilst the familiar were strangely changed. The world around him was growing whilst he, ever diminishing, observed.

Time has no meaning to a Rock's dreaming and it was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when the change took place. Perhaps it was when an unusual bipedal creature floated past? Ill equipped for an aquatic existence there was little hope for its survival. Or maybe it was a vibration, a sound, dimly heard at first that gradually transformed into a cacophony from above?

Emptiness; where once life teamed there was nothing, just an occasional scavenger seeking sustenance. Pausing in his thought, It searched the depths for the myriad of organisms that had once shared his company.

'What has happened, where is everything gone?' He had felt the ache of loneliness before, but this; this desolation was beyond his ken.

Sinking into a troubled depression, It, lost in thought was unaware of his surroundings. A sudden frothing turbulence jolted him from reverie. Tumbling, bouncing, he found itself cast upon a stony beach.

'The sky......!' Thoughts froze as It looked up at a sight lost in the mist of memory. Azure blue, thin hazy clouds and the sun shining directly overhead, he had forgotten that there was world above. Raucous calling drew his attention as a squabbling flock took wing. His heart soared with the creatures as they flew noisily overhead.

'How wonderful. How marvelous it would be if I could join them in such a wild exuberant dance.' A new unimaginable world awaited discovery, the thought quickened his mind. Excitement of what lay ahead coursed through him.
So enraptured by the world he had discovered, It was unaware of the approaching people that had so startled the circling gulls.

"Emma! Don't get to close to the water, if you get that dress dirty I'll have your guts for garters." Hot and not a little sweaty, the woman was having a hard time maneuvering the pram along the uneven footpath.

Ignoring the dire threat, Emma in a giggling rush headed for the rocky beach. She didn't even know what a garter was and anyway Mother had never carried out that oft repeated promise.

A single stone caught her eye and in one covetous movement she clutched the rock to her chest.

Sudden intimacy dashed all thought of flight from his mind. A caressing warmth, so different from the icy claws of his birth, surrounded him. Snatched from the ground from where he lay, It, in a moment of giddy flight found himself hoisted aloft.

'I fly!!' The thought was an exultation to the impossible.

'So beautiful.' Emma thought as she placed the pebble upon a larger stone. Pulsing striations of flickering gold tangled around soft grey stone.

'I wonder what might be inside.'

Another stone, large and heavy plucked at her sight. Swirling crenulations worn by seas passing had formed into handholds fit for little girl. Grasping the stone with two hands, Emma smashed the golden stone into pieces.

Agony like nothing felt before coursed through Its' being, a mind scattering into glimmering shards had one last forlorn thought.

'Why...

The Horror of MY LIFE (True Factual Events that happened in my early childhood)

I, Peter Linzy Clifford, When I was six (6) Years old I have a tale of my early childhood to tell
The day I went to alternative Dimensions Yeah F.M.L. These places were HORRIBLE

The day I stopped an Invasion of the Cyborgs from the year 2188!

It was Horrible Human bodies WITHOUT HEADS in cannisters of milky blue liquid with wires and electrodes sticking out of Arms, Legs the genitalia and anal regions CORED out Heads replaced with a METAL CAP and a metal cord with lung compressors keeping the headless corpses breathing the sounds of Bleeps and bloops of the machinery Millions and Trillions of these headless bodies further then my little six year old eyes could see (You wonder why I get a bit hostile towards people, eh! Without me doing my bit you would all be DEAD, Do you understand DEAD and their would be NO EARTH ANYMORE! I gave up everything for everyone living on this god forsaken F!ckhole you call planet earth!)

I hope you B@stards are happy, Because I'm not.

Oh don't get me wrong when I passed through that interdimensional Slipgate (YES THEY EXIST!) the Portal projection device was a standard large mirror the equipment hooked up to it was quite frankly hard to explain but I will do my best

Ring inside a ring inside a ring swirling this way and that spinning extremely Rapidly

three lots of three rings

RING ((o))
RING ((o))
RING ((o))

Outer "()"s denote larger rings

What I now know is a GYROSCOPE my six year old mind didn't know that at the time

They were VERY LARGE ones all standing in a line there was also a large square shaped mass of Fiber optic cabling with giant heat syncs on them and a cylindrical looking thing with a cone shaped top on top of it, It was emitting a very light blue glow from the little rounded windows in it they were all connected and it had wires coming out of it connected to the mirror I got teleported there one day it was mostly Gold and brassy looking in colour nothing really fantastic about the colour of this device which used the mirror to project the portal

Oh god WHY, WHY did I go through that portal WHY, I Could of had a normal life why in gods name was I SO CURIOUS!

I thought to myself if that's doing that I wonder what's on the other side, I should NEVER have went to the other side

There was also what I like to call walking Mannequins over on that side.

Don't get me wrong it was ACTION PACKED but there was a 100% chance I could very well have been killed

Imagine all your worst nightmares came to life (I know that sound so cliché!)

there was flying HEADS IRL heads with jet engines attached to the back of them screaming towards me I hit them with a piece of metal conduit I managed to wrestle free from a broken wall in a corridor in this base we were in (whne I say we I also mean the military soldiers I helped!) I could get into nooks and crannies they couldn't because of my very small size I was six FFS

Yes it was always fun getting shot at by possessed guards that were speaking in backwards latin that sounded not only backwards but WARPED like you hear a warped cassette tape

There was black and shiny human corpses with Maggots wriggling through them the stench made me gag A LOT (It was kind of an ICY meaty eggy smell kind of like when a septic tank is emptied it's kinda hard to describe just how vomit inducing that smell is) they had flies buzzing all over them and then the flies would land on me, It was really Vomit inducing especially if the flies were coated it this WET COLD slimy liquid and I could feel when they were!

There was a Mother and her young daughter hooked up to this green coloured contraption that went around in circles they were crying out and screaming out to try and find each other they were walking around in circles they had NO HEAD just a large speakerphone where their heads were supposed to be.

I heard them and I was nearly in tears because they couldn't find each other but they were screaming out for each other while walking around in circles both their speakerphone "heads" were connected to these metal shafts in the center of that metal shaft there was a circular shaft going into the ground god If I could make a videogame up about what I experienced the "Mother's" shaft was bent on a 45° angle upwards then bent back straight and her speakerphone head was fused welded to the metal shaft the little girls one was just straight across an also welded on there and the metal shafts were painted green in color the sky was a red and orange with bits of yellow in colour and this place was extremely warm

There was cyborgs too! One was dressed up as a CLOWN but half of it's face was a MACHINE and there was LARGE brassy staples holding it's half machine half meat head together! it was trying TO KILL ME! instead of having hands it had one large vice grip onits left arm and a and a set of metal Claws on the other and it was able to shoot balls of electricity out of it's claws I hid in a small vent!

It had a microphone for ears and a speaker for a mouth and a camera lens for its eye part of it's head looked like what a Computer router looks like today!

This sh!t Really happened to me. Other stuff also happened but I couldn't be bothered with it for now maybe some other day as I'm really tired now!

I have PTSD from this stuff that happened to me!

Back then I felt like in hell. My bachelor's thesis theme was prohibited as 'inappropriate for our department' after six months of encouraging of that research by everyone in the same department. My parents were on the verge of divorce. My girlfriend showed her true nature of abusiveness. My boss at work wanted me to work on a new project that was not my specialty (and even he knew it), so I planned to quit.

The main problem was to find a job after quitting and finishing university. I could live for half a year without a job - I saved some money of my scholarship, and our family income was just slightly below average.

And that led me to a choice of my new job. I did not want to leave my city. There were no good jobs in other cities anyway. But 95% of all job listings looked like either 'required 20-year old guy with 40 years of experience', or 'we accept only people with a certificate for this specialty, even if uncertified people are actually better'. Other listings had either ultra-high requirements with full-day work and low salary, or reasonable requirements in small companies that died after a few months.

Depression. Thank God I had two weeks of free time from both work and university for New Year. And a computer with some games. I've been playing dialogue-based RPGs recently. That's what kept me in university - I never mastered art of manipulation, but my limited skills got me a pretty solid reputation among open-minded people.

Starting the game. Playing as an undercover agent. After 1/3 of the game he discovers he has been brainwashed to obey only commands with certain keywords, and one of his latest targets knew about it. That man re-brainwashed the spy, and while he's dead, he is in spy's mind as a separate voice. Spy can't understand who's against him, who can be trusted.

He flees to a very remote monastery. Local mystics put him in a chamber with no windows. The only exit is through the hole in the floor, which is blocked by a wooden door. He asked for it himself. After a week of solitude and consuming food he needs some... company. No, just someone who will listen and guide.

One of elders takes the spy to a ritual room and tells hero's story as if he was there instead. He asked about choices I made during the game. I explain them, for they were the right ones for me at the moment, even if I hesitated while choosing what to do and where to go.

'What are you planning to do now that you are free of all your connections to that world?' I do not know. 'Well, what can you do?' I was trained to be anyone I need to be right now. I never did anything else. 'Then you can be whatever you want. You are free to choose any path.'

Any path. Even back where I came from. To undo what can be undone yet. To discover my true identity. Even if there is none, I will make it myself.

...

A few years later, I look at that moment and smile. I knew what I had to do. I go where I choose. I do what I choose. Selfish? Yes. But that is the way it is meant to be. I don't know where I should go, or what I have to be. The only thing I know for sure: do what is right; do what is necessary; go where you are needed.

Do what you have to do.

Their screams could be heard echoing throughout the town of Coreland, Pennsylvania. When fire is melting your flesh to the bone not even fifty feet of rock could muffle the violent protest of agony that the body makes. No one could have saved those miners and no one could have saved that town. Coreland was resting atop one of the largest coal veins in North America. Those mines will burn forever.

The driver side door of my truck slammed shut behind me. The traveled distanced to get here took longer than estimated. The sun was doing a swan dive over the mountains into the western horizon. There was an immediate taste of pine laced with an oily musk that held a touch of sulfur. The odor confirmed that this was a coal town and beneath my feet there was a raging fire. Intrigue had brought me to Coreland, this town of ghosts. What was left of the town?

The view from my truck had answered my long sought question. Most of the town had been re-populated by pine trees. What resembled civilization were a handful of derelict houses that stood on the main and only road through the town. Littering the lawns were two Model Ts that probably haven’t been driven since prohibition. This place was out of time. The last distinguishing remnant of the town was a decaying Civil War cemetery. Oddly enough the only signs of life were a group of children playing tag upon the graves of Union soldiers.

If there was anything left to investigate, it was the abandoned coal mine at the edge of town. Ten feet from the front of my truck laid the road that led to the mine. Unfortunately the underground fires had reshaped the road into a giant unfinished jigsaw puzzle with smoke seeping out of various cracks. The challenging part was to hike down the smoldering road while not losing my lantern or my life.

The last of the sun’s rays were long gone as my trek down the torn road ended. Darkness had won the landscape, but one last battle ensued at the entrance of the mine. There was a bright fire exiting the mine entrance. This was the end of my journey and all had been seen. There was nowhere left to go but back the way I came. Staring at the fire in a disappointed state, my mind began to falter. The fire moved toward me and splintered into several tall shapes that looked like… people. It was the miners. The ground grew hot beneath me, causing my shoes to melt in place while a ring of smoke engulfed me. As the smoke filled my lungs the burning miners moved closer to me while chanting

“We burn forever and now you will burn with us too”!

Miners Burn Brighter Than Coal

Maestro

“Maestro, you’ve always been there for me,” Beth said as she scratches her cat behind his ears.

Situating herself on the sofa she pulls a gingham quilt up to her ears, protection from the chill creeping up her neck and arms. The last light of a dreary winters day has receded from her living room leaving Beth and Maestro alone in the gloaming. Beth’s pained smile stiffens as the darkness becomes palpable. She sighs, scratches Maestro’s black and white throat and blinks back tears.

“January's are always difficult,” Beth said. “But after fourteen years you know that as well as I do,” she says to the cat snuggling him close.

Beth’s eyes well up with tears, sparkling crisp in the cold as they begin their descent toward her chin.

“It’s dark so early, miserably cold, and oh so lonely,” she moans into the darkness and wipes her eyes on her sleeve.

She buries her face in the comforting scruff of Maestro’s neck. Sleek and soft her old friend’s nurturing ways never fail to provide her respite from these bouts of sadness. Her hands clutch Maestro to pull him close and she strokes the length of his spindly body head to tail, her mind wandering to happier times.

The past several days Beth had been noticing Maestro’s fur thinning and even now in the dark as she pats his belly she sees her friend’s hair pull loose in her hands. Distraught by the fuzz collecting on the blanket and becoming suddenly aware of these unmistakable indicators of Maestro’s age her tears begin to flow freely once again. Her throat tightens and sobbing she rises from the couch, Maestro clutched to her bosom and crosses the living room toward the kitchen.

She keeps the light off as she enters. Her bare feet on the cold tile trigger a shiver as she kneels down to Maestro’s food dish. It is overfull and the uneaten food is beginning to spoil; the pungency of rotting fish hangs sharply in her nose. Apparently oblivious to the mess Beth opens a fresh can and flakes the soft paté onto the heaping dish, the bulk of it falling to the kitchen floor.

“Here you go Mister Maestro. Enjoy your cat-dinner,” she said setting the cat down in front of his dish.

Standing alone in the cold Beth’s eyes are maudlin. She is transfixed staring out the window above the sink. By the halogen glow of the streetlamps outside she watches the fresh snowfall. There she stands, still, for several minutes in silent reflection. Beth thinks back on her years with Maestro; fondly remembering the morning that she found him: a filthy, shivering black and white wretch beneath her mother’s car. His time as a kitten hellion, when he would climb the drapes with his razor claws. She remembers watching him grow into a mature cat and smiles. How playful and curious he had been! Her constant companion always at her side.

Beth’s smile grows as she thinks of his antics rolling about the floor begging for catnip or his favorite treats. She thinks of how he began to slow down after twelve or so years. Of how he came to prefer spending his evenings curled in her lap as she’d read or watch television -- just the two of them, inseparable all these years.

“It’s funny how you’ve changed with time, Maestro,” she said aloud, jarring herself from the daydream. “How a little furball like you can come to mean so much. You’re my best friend, Maestro.”

Beth glances down toward Maestro. He remains still next to his food dish. She pets him and lifts him into her arms. Holding him close and tight she lovingly scratches his favorite place behind his ears once more before bedtime. Beth turns to the refrigerator, opens the freezer door and pulls a zip-seal bag from the frozen fog within.

“Goodnight my little Maestro,” she says, placing the cat fully into the bag.

She pinches closed the bag’s seal with trembling fingers, her voice faltering, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she sobs aloud as she replaces the bag on its shelf in the freezer. “I’ll see you in the morning. I love you, Maestro.”

Beth pushes the freezer door shut. And with a dull thud, she is left alone in the cold darkness with her memories.

*poof*

The Longest Wait

David and Rachel watched the morning break as they had done so every day for the last six months. Through rain and snow they sat on the same bench in front of the same stretch of coastline, looking out over the same sea. The recent change of seasons from Winter to Spring was welcome - It was a calm day on the water with a light southerly wind.

The daily routine started at around 06:30. David removed his sleeping bag and helped his wife out of hers. He stuffed them into one of their many backpacks and placed it by the side of the bench. He sat back down and ran his grubby hands through his thick greasy hair.

“What a lovely sun rise this morning,” he said as he stretched his back.

Rachel sat motionless, only managing a slight smile to acknowledge his comment. He looked down at his wife. Despite sleeping rough through most of the winter with nothing except two sleeping bags, some spare clothes and a tent for when the weather was particularly bad, he still found her as beautiful as the day they first met. She had long blonde hair with grey streaks that swayed in the wind, small thin cherry coloured lips and radiant green eyes that were starting to look weary. Despite what they’ve gone through, he never forgets how much he loves her and has done for the last 30 years.

As early morning past, the same group of people came and went, almost like clockwork. First, Jerry passes by with his labrador at around 07:00. Then about 15 minutes later, the runner in his green tracksuit, shortly followed by Samantha and her two little poodles. Mondays to Thursdays a cyclist would go by around 08:00. But today is Friday.

“Another week gone.“ Rachel mumbled over the top of her thick coat.

David nodded slowly. He checked his watch and looked behind him. “The library should be opening in a minute.” he turned back, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, crossed his legs and closed his eyes for a few minutes.

The library stood on the corner of the road that was only a short walk away. Next door was the Clarence Cafe, a dingy but welcoming place where the locals would feed themselves up with sausages and bacon for the day ahead. The rest of the road that ran along the coastline was full of small businesses,with the odd bed and breakfast. He knew the area well, having lived here for his whole life. He was sad to have sold the family home, but it was for good reason.

“I’ll be back in a moment love.” He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and walked over to the library to accomplish his first task of the day. He walked in, showed his library card, sat himself down at a computer and checked his emails for any news. As expected, none. He did however receive an email from his brother, asking how he was and invited them over if they wanted to use his shower and grab a decent meal. He spent a few minutes typing out his reply, logged out and then left for the cafe.

As he walked in, the smell of bacon on the grill hit him, invigorating his hunger. The place was deserted. Radio 1 was playing softly in the background. As usual, he was greeted by Sharon the waitress.

“Morning love, the usual?”

“Yes please Sharon. You OK?”

“Not bad love, can’t complain.” she replied. After an awkward silence, she took today as an opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“I take it you’ve not heard anything?” she asked cautiously.

“Nothing.”

“I know it’s difficult love, but you…”

“But you don’t know Sharon.” he responded sharply.

“You’re right, but you have to find somewhere to live love. Weren’t you offered somewhere?”

He looked for an excuse. He didn’t want to talk about this now. “My daughter offered the floor of her living room, but her place is tiny.”

“I mean from the council.” She took her chewing gum out of her mouth and threw it in the bin.

“Yes, but. It’s too far away. Plus the heating was broken. I’d prefer the tent to be honest.”

She didn’t want to press any further. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe love.”

“I will do Sharon, thanks.” he managed a smile.

Moments later, the chef appeared from the kitchen, presenting two bacon sandwiches in one hand, and two polystyrene cups of tea in the other. He placed them on the counter and disappeared out the back. David pulled out a bundle of £20 notes and gave Sharon two of them. “This should cover the next few days.” he muttered.

“Thanks love, remember what I said.” He picked up his breakfast and left to return to the bench.

By the time he returned, the sandwiches and tea had warmed his hands up nicely. He placed one of the sandwiches next to his wife, and handed her one of the cups of tea. She held it and gratefully took a couple of sips. As she did so, she watched two young fishermen setup on the beach close by.

“Any news?” she asked.

“None. Got an e-mail from Patrick though.”

“How is he?”

“He seems to be OK,” he replied as he sat down, “going golfing this weekend.”

She continued to sip her tea as he removed the wrapping from his bacon sandwich. David started to think about his brother and how well the family got on before life took a turn for the worst.

“Remember when Benjamin painted up his walls when he was kid? I remember that day vividly.” he chuckled as he took a bite.

“That was funny. Handprints are still there aren’t they? Even after all these years.” she replied. “He used to love going round there, always had a soft spot for his uncle Pat.”

David nodded in agreement as he took another bite. Rachel continued, “I’ll always remember that Christmas when he drew a moustache on him after he dozed off after drinking one too many bottles. Couldn’t get it off for days.”

“How could one forget.” he paused for a moment, placing his sandwich back into its wrapping for later. “That was the year he got him his first Cricket set wasn’t it?”

“I think so.” she replied. She focused her attention on the fisherman. “It was Patrick who also got him his first fishing rod.”

“He used to love his sport”. David was always thankful for his brother encouraging Benjamin to play sports, nurturing his active, adventurous side, while he focused on the academic side. Their son always enjoyed working as part of a team, smiling and joking with everyone he met. But above everything else he loved his fishing. That was quality time to himself, but sometimes enjoyed it with his best friends. In fact, it was Simon, his best friend from college, who encouraged him to row out to sea with their equipment on that cold October evening, departing from approximately where the two fishermen in front of them now stood.

Memories of the following morning of that fateful night came flooding back as they regularly did. Rachel shuffled closer to her husband, placed her head on his shoulder, wrapped her arm around his and shed another tear for her dear Benjamin. “When do you think he’ll be coming back?”

Tears started to well up in his eyes. “Soon my love, he’ll be back soon.”

A matter of discipline


When you walk past me I always salute you it is a matter of discipline of hierarchy it is a matter of names of which I have none I used to be someone we all did but now I do not think I have a name now I lost it along with some bullet or perhaps I dropped it and left it on the dirt by mistake my wife you know my wife is my wife yes I’ve said that but my wife you see is the best wife one could ever have and her voice is my tune her voice I can dance to I can no longer dance but if I could I would dance to the voice of my wife when you walk past me I always salute you it is a matter of discipline and discipline is all I am left with you have to lie still man you have to lie still and from that moment on I’m lying still it is all I am now and you should see his eyes when he screamed “fall back fall back” and I tried I obeyed I did but in the meantime I lost my ring my name and my left lung and I do not bother anymore about my lung but I wish had my ring now because she said because she made me promise to always wear it especially when we’re formal and now they’re taking me somewhere formal and there I will never have my ring and I will fail her but I can see them from down here if only I could lift my head I would see them better and I hear I know I hear her voice but it has gone out of tune now so hushed and cracked now just like an out of tune guitar I remember the only night I got a guitar in my hands and I was so bad at it but the boys asked me the boys begged me to sing auld lang syne my favorite song and I sang it awfully and they laughed but it sounded wonderful to me because it was my favorite song and it plays even now as they walk right past me and I want to salute them but I can’t and I remember my pa saying that names are only for the living but “we are gathered here today to honor the memory of Ted Conors” and thank god they found my name because I used to tell my pa he’s wrong you know and today is the most beautiful of all days today shines the brightest sun I’ve ever seen but here goes the chief covering it as he stands so serious before me and salutes me my chief salutes me what are the odds my chief salutes me and as he leaves I look at the sun again I look straight at it and the joke’s on it now because it can no longer hurt my eyes but wait stop I am being moved I am going down it is not time yet I know I am blabbering but it is not time yet I am going down do not panic Ted do not panic because this is a matter of discipline Ted and now they’re covering me with that awful lid but do not panic Ted and the cries are there but I can no longer hear them because it is getting silent now why is it getting silent now but Ted do not panic don’t you dare panic Ted this is a matter of discipline Ted when you walk past me I always salute you I say always salute you and there’s nothing to hear anymore there is absolute silence only absolute silence only me and the darkness and I know it is time to go now but do not panic Ted do not panic for this is a matter of discipline Ted
this death
this death is a matter of discipline Ted
so please
please Ted

do not panic.

It was a Sunday morning after a week of exhaustion, when a man, father of one son, took his newspaper to relieve tiredness. He thought he could stay home all day long and relax a bit.

While vegetating, his son came running into the room and asked when they would go to the cinema. The father had promised his son that he would take him to the cinema this weekend but he had to find an excuse because he actually didn't want to go out at all. Then he looked at the world map that the newspaper distributed as a covermount. First he divided the world map into small pieces and said: "Son, if you can reassemble this map, I take you to the cinema. Promise!

The man laughed inside and thought: "I'm saved. If you bring the best geography professor, you can not fix this map until tomorrow evening".

Ten minutes later, the son ran to his father and said, "Father, i reassembled the map, we can go to the cinema now."

The man could not believe it and asked to see the map. He was still in amazement when he saw it and he asked how he did it. The child gave the following response:

"There was a human face behind the map you gave me."

WHEN I FIXED THE HUMAN
THE WORLD WAS FIXED BY ITSELF.

The bar was almost empty. The last patron was a young lady gazing into a shapeshifting glass.
"Miss, we are closing, time to pay for your drinks."- said the bartender robot.
"I'm not finished yet."
"Miss, please pay your drinks, or i have to call the sentry bots."
"To hell with this bar, and to hell with you."
"This fine establishment is the only place to have a drink in a 3-ligthyear-radius, so choose your language, miss."
"I'm not a Miss, i am a Mrs."
"Congratulations."
"Actually, i am a "widow". This is why i'm sitting in this fine establishent."
"Well, fine Mrs, i am sorry for your loss. Do you have the proper funds, or shall i make a proposal for the police to arrest you?"
"That won't be necessary. Pour me another from this last glowing liquid, and i tell you a story, that you"ll never forget."
"Madam, i am not paid by the hour. I have to close the bar, do the calculations, send the files via the deepspace network or else i"ll be retired to the nearest junkyard."
"Now listen up, i will tell you everything i had learned about the Death of Destruktor."
"Well O.K., maybe it is time to spice up my circuits with new data."
"Now that's my boy. Listen carefully:
Year 1.: Year of the first contact
In a rare stellar complex 3 Suns formed a triangle, each with a 3 lightyear distance from another. A Rionian spacecraft landed on the planet of Shwyzz.
Year 500.:
Joint missions explored the planets of the Third Sun, a Red Giant. Pilots and scientists returned with strong religious beliefs and findings of artifacts of an ancient spacefaring civilization. The Unity Church was formed. The solar system of the Red Giant was declared off-limits, Forbidden Space by Shwyzz and Rionia. Though secret explorations continued by religous fanatics.
Year 1000.: The Great Rift of the Unity Church
Some priests decided to find and meet the Creator, the GOD-in-hiding. The Order of Ghaad (Creationists and defenders of life) and the Order of Destruktor (seekers of destruction and „spacefolding timetravel” ) was formed.
Year 1100.: The Order of Destruktor was banned in known space, and they were exiled to the Forbidden Space.
Year 1200.: The Order of Destruktor transformed into a Hive society
Year 1300.-1305: The First War
A Destruktor invasion was repelled by Rionia and Shwyzz at a great cost. The Holy Alliance was formed. Rionia was rebuilt from ash and rubble and transformed into a military society.
Year 1990.: By miracle, an infant survived a cataclism on a distant planet, everybody else died.
Year 2000.: King Wardell was crowned king of Shwyzz after his father died defeating a coup d’ etat.
Year 2014.: Princess Estelle survived an assassination attempt ordered by her father Wardell, and fled Shwyzz to work as a hired pilot on a wreck salvager.
Year 2015. The orbital wreck salvager was attacked by space pirates. Rionian war pilots assisted in repelling the pirates. Princess Estelle and a Rionian soldier named Malik crashed down to a jungle planet. They learned to survive and fell in love. They assembled a spaceworthy craft, but Estelle left without notice. Malik was found and rescued by a Rionian team. Destruktor forces attacked deep space mining colonies in Shwyzz territorial space. Shwyzz, the banking and trading hub planet gathered an army to counter the attacks.
Estelle was trying to sneak back to Shwyzz, to her fahter’s palace to kill her tyrant father, King Wardell. Master Danuba, the King's Advisor derailed her plans, but helped her to find her imprisoned mother.
Rionia, a planet with a fully militarised society was attacked again by the Destruktor Vanguard, which applied terrorist techniques such as atomic, biological, and chemical warfare. Malik’s unparalleled heroism and sensivitity to the Destruktor Vanguard granted a victory for Rionia in the battle.
Malik entered the Destruktors' Holy Mother’s lair, and realized that the size and numbers of Destruktor Main Forces preparing to attack all planets in the solar system are beyond anyone’s imagination.
On Malik’s findings Shwyzz called for the old Holy Allience. Malik enjoyed victory after victory. Master Danuba confronted him, that knowing/sensing the Hive steps well in advance with this effectiveness could be a part of the Hive plan. Estelle also arrived to the Holy Mother’s lair, but escaped captivity with her finesse.
Malik traveled to Shwyzz, healed Estelle’s little sister’s Amira’s sickness, revealing King Wardell to be responsible.
The wedding of Estelle and Malik was crashed by Destruktor infiltrators, who claimed, that Estelle was their anointed, new queen. They took her away.
Malik and Amira was wed in a little ceremony. Amira got to save Tumba, High Priestess of Ghaad and began her training in the Order of Ghaad. The final battle between the Hive and the Holy Alliance took place in the Forbidden Space. There was a duel in a crystal cave, where army leaders Malik and Estelle had confronted each other for ultimate victory. Master Danuba had other plans: he wanted to ignite all the „dark matter” cannons pointed to the Red Giant Sun in order to destroy all figthing forces, and to erase all lifeforms in the solar systems by a supernova blast, syphonig all Life Power for those in the cave, making themselves Eternal Beings or Gods. The decision was made harder by two well trained religious supernaturals: Priestess Tumba and her student Amira...Well that's about it."
"Princess, have You killed everyone You ever loved?"
"Not yet. You know all i have are these blurry visions of my past and future melting into each other."
"Attention, attention! Pirate attack imminent. All miners into combat positions. All pilots to the hangars!"
"Here we go. Thanks anyway for the drinks."
"Best of luck to You, Princess."
The End

"Another cup, milord?" I offered to the bearded man in noble clothes sitting alone at the table. Lost in thoughts he merely pushed the chalice in my direction and grunted. I refilled it with some of the moderate quality wine we still had left. He took a sip, making a face as the bitter taste didn't match the flavor that used to touch his tongue.

How did it get like this? Mere 5 years ago Count Matthews was a very respected man who wielded a respectable fortune and was followed by myriads of peasants that wouldn't mind dying for his causes. I served him for the last 9 years and couldn't ever imagine such a fast descent. Nobody could.

"Have you tended to the horses?" he asked suddenly, breaking my train of thought.

"Ah... I meant to tell you, sir. We lost two more to disease. They're just too weak. Nobody brings them food. I do when I can, but it's not enough"

"You bring them... what are you doing instead of your work, you little runt?" shouted the count in a loud voice. It seemed so weird hearing that man that was known for his persuasive words in a soft voice shout. But his tirade stopped just as abruptly as it started. Looking down and back at the table, he mumbled something to himself before addressing me again.

"No... forgive me. It's not your fault. You are right, there's just too much work to do and so few hands to do it. If the horses were fed something else would not have been done. I probably wouldn't have water or meat on the table."

I looked at the count, uncertain if he actually meant his apologies or was trying not to lose another pair of hands. Either way would mean the same in the end.

"Yes sir, I suppose"

With a long sigh he went back to his chalice, sipping it slowly. It had to last long because it was unlikely there would be more wine. Since the villagers left no one tended to the castle's pantry or cellar. All because they couldn't accept Lady Shelley.

Lady Shelley was the wife of Lord Laurent, a merchant and patrician that established himself in the county a decade ago. At first they were welcomed by all the nobles. The count had in his service three brave and faithful knights, led by Sir Jordan. They gladly opened their doors to Lord Laurent and Lady Shelley at first, but as their gatherings went on her presence made an impact on my lord's heart. That much was obvious as I saw in his eyes, but the rest I learned from Sir Jordan the day before he departed.

"The poor man is going to make himself a fool. He's a widower as you know, and he fell in love with her. He knows he can't marry a married woman or the church would eat him alive. But he's hoping Laurent will die and he keeps trying to 'court' her as a bird bringing shining objects. And his offer is the county itself, lad."

"Giving the county away! That's insane! How come he arrived to those lenghts?"

"Some say she's a witch, some say she's just a devious woman playing him. Toying with him to ensnare his heart. As for Laurent he might be sharing her ill intentions or he might be another pawn, I don't know. Either way in just 3 years the count has fallen for her charms. We tried to warn him that she'll just strip him from all power and toss him aside. He won't listen to no one."

"That's why" — continued the serious knight — "we the knights decided to go. And it appears most of the people wants to go with us. Lady Shelley is the kind of woman that you either love or hate and most of the peasants don't like her."

"But... where will you all go?"

"That's the best part. The king recently called for people interested in colonizing a region to the south. A new county, if you will. There will be lots of work to do, but with the amount of people that offered to go with I think we can do it. No, I know we can do it. Come with us, too."

"I..." — I paused and thought for a bit. "I guess I want to. But I feel an obligation to the Count. You understand me."

"I do. I won't insist. But if you ever change your mind take the south road, past the mountains. We'll gladly take you.

That was the last day I saw any of the knights. And 3 out of each 4 villagers too.

"Get the dishes and prepare the Great Hall. Lord Laurent and Lady Shelly will dine here tonight." — Count Matthews interrupted me again. Apparently time was in so short supply we couldn't even spend it thinking.

"Yes sir. In that case allow me to gather some fruits for the guests. They deserve our orchard's most savory apples."

The count pondered it for a bit, but the idea of satisfying lady Shelley was very strong. "Go. But don't take too long. You have work here too."

I left making my way to my hut instead with my resolve settled. I was going to gather my belongings and leave. There was no other way. With no one to work the fields the county's coffers would be empty in no time. The king would demand the usual taxes, or enemy armies would invade with no one to defend us. Either way we were done for.

The county would fall. Everyone could see that. At least my lord would rejoice in the illusion of Lady Shelley's love until then.

Simply Meant to Game



Once upon a time, a girl met a boy. Boy was a gamer. Girl loved Gamer Boy. He was the Mario to her Peach, without all that chasing and hiding drama, and after kissing so many Toads, she knew she had found her prince. They were simply super together.

Well, after several blissful years together, “Mario” could not stop yearning for a new game graphics card. It nearly absorbed his many worlds and lives. So Peach, being sick as Birdo spewing eggs, decided to enter a contest to win a new graphics card for her darling Mario. After all, he’s always been so good to her, and saved her countless times, This would be the best way to pay back his loving and heroic services. Besides, if he got a new card, she’d get his older one (that she could really use for her beloved games — but that’s not important, is it?). Also, if he got said graphics card, then he’d stop hankering for it so much, and Mario could put some investment into his and Peach’s future in the clouds.

In the end, Girl (Peach) won a short story contest and won Boy (Mario) his highly regarded games graphics card, and they both gamed, I mean lived, happily ever after…

THE END

I appologize for all mistakes, I have little dyslexia and was in rush :)

„Life? Can be beautiful”

From seventeen-year-old’s diary.

…The therapist insist on writing the diary. ‘Writing what’s in my inner world can have positive effect on my outside world’ –she said. I don’t like it, but I’ll try…

… I was always not so much liked in my school, I was an outsider, almost no closest friends, no parties invitations etc …

Day x
I was at school as always, and like always my mom watched some medical themed docusoap, one of those stupid ones. My sister pissed me off, by leaving her painkillers on my desk… What was she even doing in my room? Day like always…

Day x+1
At school happened something strange, I got an invitation to party tomorrow , and you don’t believe from who. It was from Jolie, my crush. I was very surprised, because till today I was like air to her. At home nothing changes, mom watched hospital themed shity tv show, and sister leave 2 bottles of painkillers on my cabinet… Sometimes I hate her.

Day x+2
I never thought that I tell this: school was awesome today. After classes Jolie come to me and said that she looking forward to party, and she hope that I will be there. I said yes, and then she kissed me in the cheek. I write more tomorrow. I must prepare for party.
I almost forgot, mom like yesterday watched tv show about doctors on ER, and sister like always left empty bottle of ‘period’ pills in my room. I must go…

Day x+3
Last night was the best of my life. Party was great, but after that. Oh my God , my hearth is trambling when I think about it. Jolie took me to her room, and we’ve had sex. Yes lost virginity, I got laid, I’m happiest men on earth. After I woke in midday, mom was watching like always docusoap about ER doctors trying to save life on some young men while making lunch. My sister on the other hand left empty bottles of drugs in bathroom. Why she even taking so many meds? I don’t care I’m happy now!
(..)

Day x+5
What happened? At school all peoples, classmates, even Jolie were upset/angry with me. I don’t know what happened? Did I do something more on the party. I don’t know. I’m upset, and to make matter worse, the tv show about ER medics saving some kid that was toxicated with something, don’t stop my mom to fight with me about I don’t know? EVERYTHING? Sister wasn’t helping. She throw pill bottle at my face… What happened? I better stay at my room till tomorrow.

Day x+6
This day was the worst in my life. School was horrible. It was like yesterday but worse, even Jolie slapped me with no reason. And at home I found my mom hanging under the ceiling, in background was her favorite TV show about ER doctor trying to saving live some kid that trying to commit suicide. It was pointless. Sister wasn’t home. There was only her painkillers on kitchen table. Why my mom done it ? Why? WHy? WHY?

*

In Emergency Room was commotion. The ambulance bring seventeen year old boy that tried to commit suicide.

"He taken 2 bottles of Panadol, and add alcohol, it was about 10 hours ago" – said paramedic to doctor that had shift.
Behind him was mother and sister of the patient constantly crying and asking about the boy. Doctor ordered medication and test.
"Acetylcysteine in drip, stomach washing, and electrolytes drip, that all we can do for him know, it was long time since intake, he probably have liver failure and encephalopathy*" – said doctor to mother and sister, then he explain the whole terms and situation to them. They bursted into tears.

He died few hours later. In very short peace of time, when he partially regain consciousness, he was mumbling ‘why?’ and ‘jolie!’. Probably some vision of his dying mind.

*encephalopah y- overall brain disfunction

Thomas was sleeping alone in his flat when the doorbell rang. It recently partially broke so it was almost inaudible, yet even at such a low volume the sound woke Thomas up. He wasn't really sleeping, though, more like napping or just fooling himself he's asleep and doesn't have to answer the door, the phone or anything else for that matter. He opened his eyes, sighed, and vigorously jumped out of sofa, admitting to himself he's not sleepy at all. He crossed the room, reached the intercom and pressed the mushy button on malfunctioning device to unlock the door to the building.
He heard a faint voice from the speaker: "Which floor?"
"Umm, three", he replied.
After less than two minutes there was a person in front of his opened door.
"Come on, come in", he invited.
A 29-year-old girl smiled and hugged him. She had the same blonde curly hair and green glasses just like when they last seen each other, years ago.
"Oh, wow", she cheerfully glanced at Thomas.
"What is it?"
"You look different"
"Is it that bad?"
"No, I mean you look clean, I mean you look good."
"That's some compliment. You look the same."
She grimaced and chuckled.
"That's a compliment too", he added.
"Very smooth, Tom", she sarcastically replied, but she knew what he meant and she didn't mind his awkward way. She always thought it was endearing.
They moved into the room and sat on the sofa.
"Sorry, I was sleeping", Thomas tried to comment on the state of the room, which was actually pretty tidy, which he realised, but still wanted to make an impression that he doesn't consider it a perfect condition. "Tell me, Ollie, where to start, it's been quite some time, hasn't it?"
"Yeah, about three years, I think", she couldn't stop grinning. "Nobody called me that in just about that time".
"So, is it Olivia now?"
"Sure, I think it's okay, can't complain to my parents. Can I smoke in here?"
"By the window, please". He squinted his eyes. "You smoke?"
She shrugged and took a pack of blue Lucky Strikes out of the bag. She opened the window, sat on a windowsill and lit the cigarette.
"Want to exchange?", he asked.
"How so?"
"Stories. You're gonna tell me how you started, and I'm gonna tell you how I quit".
"Fair".
Thomas sat on the other side of the windowsill and asked "Actually, can I have one? I rarely smoke, maybe once in a while, when the company is good."
He took one cigarette, leaving two more in the pack. Olivia tried to lit it but the lighter completely died. "Let me", she said and put Tom's cigarette between her lips, lit it off her cigarette and handed it back. Thomas took it and looked at the filter, which had no marks. She still wasn't wearing any makeup. He smiled in the corner of the mouth and inhaled deeply on the cigarette.
"Right, so I started half a year ago, I guess", she began. "More out of boredom than anything, or really to have a moment to get my mind of some shit after, y'know, Stephen. I just felt like having something in my mouth."
They both laughed at that.
"No big story here. You?"
"I was kind of dating this girl. Well, maybe not dating. We were just hanging out, but she was really cool. I somehow never smoked around her, until one time I just took a pack out of my pocket and lit a smoke without thinking about it. It was weird. She looked at me with such a disappointment in her eyes. I felt like I let her down, like I, I don't know, destroyed her idealised opinion of me. Maybe it was silly for both of us but I cared what she thought of me, and yeah, that was it. I never bought cigarettes after that. And I still remember her look then. Still."
"Want to do something stupid, drama queen?", Olivia said while blowing the smoke out of the window.
"Not that it'd be any change for me, but why not?"
"You must have spray paint."
"Got most in my workshop but should have one or two cans in here."
"Can you follow?", she grinned.

...

It was already dusk, sun painting the sky with vivid colours, slowly dying behind the horizon. Olivia and Thomas were standing near a wall of an old building beside the city park, with only one lantern trying to give light to the whole street, but seemingly fading just like the sun. Badly trying not to look suspicious Olivia shook a can of paint and started spraying a writing on the wall in the most crude, uneven lettering.
"You're allowed to snort?", Thomas read the writing out loud, trying to get the meaning.
"Yes, you know, like noodles or something".
"That's the message you want to send to the world?"
"It's important. To let people know. To give them that kind of support, validation. It really is okay. It's a human right. And besides, try to beat that".
Thomas grabbed the paint and did an elaborate graphic next to Olivia's writing. Even with few simple moves he quickly outshined her effort.
"Okay, I got to give you that, it looks really nice, but the message is trivial, and lazy", she criticised. "And writing Graffiti is vandalism is a tad hypocritical, don't you think?"
"That's the point, and your comment proves it. It's daring".
Olivia burst in laughter. Thomas smiled towards her.
"I didn't notice it before", she said. "Your scar". She touched his chin, which had a small mark left after a cut. "Got another story for me?"
"I'm scarred", he said with a bit of sadness in the voice. "This, this is nothing. I was practicing skateboarding".
"Skateboarding?"
"Yeah, it's funny, it's called an olli, like your name.", he joked."Anyway, I landed on something that was supposed to be solid. But it wasn't. So, I had a very unpleasant meeting with gravel. I'm going to spare you all the juicy details."
"Whatever doesn't kill you..."
"Hmm, sometimes I wonder", Thomas said in a more serious tone. "Remember when I mentioned that girl, with the cigarettes, and letting her down and shit? Well, there was more to it. You could say I lied, but... we were close. Very much. There was no happy ending and it hurts. Still. You know, when I went head-first into the gravel, it was scary, and it was hurting so badly and for some time after, as well. It was a miracle I didn't break anything or worse. When I think of that time, I remember being hurt, I remember getting stiches and all, I remember the pain, and I have a souvenir on my chin to prove it. But when I touch my scar I don't feel the pain, I can't recall the pain. I think of it, but I don't feel it. But there's also a scar in my heart... and I can feel the pain all the time. I'm scarred, all right."
"I'm sorry".
"I know. And thank you".
They were in silence for a moment.
"You're right", Olivia started. "It is vandalism. But it was still fun to do".
Thomas smiled gently. He seemed relieved, if only a little.
"Want to do another wall?", she proposed.
"You know it", Thomas replied unhesitatingly.