Liberation“Where was the turn? Shit, shit!” Reth constantly repeats the question and assorted expletives in his mind as he frantically reads the markers under his rushing feet and above his head, trying to stay on course.
Running through the tight corridors of the troop ship is by no means enjoyable: There are dangling cables all over, men are coming this way and that (usually carrying something heavy that blocks their vision), and one could easily trip over something and go tumbling down onto hard steel. Running through the corridors is something Trooper Reth never wants to do but finds himself doing quite often because of his affinity for being late to important events; the young man can still recall standing in front of the entire regiment the first day of basic training and getting yelled at by Captain Janik. Reth does his best not to stand out these days, but sprinting through the close hallways sending up a royal racket does not help him in this case. Questions are yelled aft
Life of a SandwichI park my car in the same spot I have been using for the past year. It’s cloudy or sunny or possibly sunset, it’s hard to notice after working here for so long. The engine dies slowly after I take the key out; she’s a good girl, old, but sturdy.Life of a Sandwich9 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It is colder then it should be which means a slow day. Something about cool weather and sandwiches somehow don’t mix it seems. I walk into work, round the corner to the back and punch in. My boss yells at me from the backroom and waves goodbye while saying something. The words are lost over the cooler that should have been fixed months ago. The mechanical noises it produces when it turns on starts to sound like a robot orgy gone wrong. All alone now with no customers or more pressing matters, I start cleaning up some of the mess on the counter. My mind begins to wander.
Packed with all his brothers he simply waits to be unloaded. He feels a sudden stop, hears a door opening. The prison is being lifted now, weightless
Rock and SnowThe observation room was silent that morning. I always made sure to come here before the others woke up for their early morning cardio or breakfast. The silence was too perfect for the view outside, people would only spoil it. My hands were warming from the cup of coffee in them. I took a long sip and enjoyed the sweet taste. A knot in my back caused me to shift my weight and try to undo it, the mining was only getting harder on this rock and my body was finally giving up it would seem. Knuckles cracked when I clenched my fist, my neck seems to break every morning, but my legs are still sturdy enough to carry my weight. Everyone else here at the station seemed much in the same way. The doctor was always telling us to take it easier. That was hard advice to follow when the quotas were always increasing. The view outside takes my attention again, swallowing up my body’s pain and my head’s concerns whole and painting over them in white.Rock and Snow6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Some people hated the storms, it
Learning to Fight with SwordsThe sound of metal hitting metal was deafening inside the small room within the barracks. Two men, one smaller than the other by some height and thinner, were in mock battle using blunted swords. Both were clad in tight fitting leather to dull the blows and a metal helmet atop their heads. The shorter man was sweating heavily under the weight of the armor and helmet. This was one of his first times training to become a guard of the Duke’s—the armor was heavy both from the leather and the worry it gave the man. Easily swatting attacks and moving lightly on his feet the taller man was doing his best to instruct the new recruit. Around the small ring that the two men were fighting in sat many guards, some recruits and others lifers, that watched the two fight. The smell of dinner was wafting into the barracks from above; some local farmers had a very bountiful harvest and were more than willing to part with their excess of carrots, onions, potatoes, leeks, cabbage and all mannLearning to Fight with Swords4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Hubris of KingsThe king of kings, ruler of earth and the sea and provider for his people sat on his throne. He was scratching a small itch on his neck when one of his many advisors came in. The trifles of these Egyptians never seemed to end. They always had something to be worried about. Last time it was their celebrations being put off to help with the war effort against the Ethiopians. Next it was the fish people coming in greater numbers as the seas were providing little in the way of food. Always something with them, the king mused and set his eyes upon the advisor. This wasn’t a pleasant man to converse with. His voice was of a high pitch, short enough that one had to constantly look down and his accent made every word he spoke a bludgeon against the king’s native tongue.Hubris of Kings5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Sire, sire, reports from the satraps say that the Nile is late this year. A most unwelcome thing, the gods surely seek to punish us for some deed.” The advisor almost slid to touch the king so quick was
Skipping the LessonThe girl had been hiding away for what felt like hours. Tucked away behind piles of doublets and blankets, she was impossible to find in that closet unless she spoke. The room had been entered a few times by her instructor eager to find her ward lest the Count discover his first daughter is missing. The man was not one to take oversights like that without issuing due punishment.Skipping the Lesson9 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The door leading into the room opened again with the usual squeak from the old hinges. The young girl gripped her knees closer to her chest refusing to make a sound. Two pairs of heavy boots were making dull thuds on the stone floor, some mumbling from a gravely voice, but too quiet to make out any words. Curious, the young girl moves the doublets and blankets slowly not making a sound and moves closer to the closet door. She presses her ear to the old wood and listens.
“Sir, what are your plans?” The voice is that of the Captain of the Guard. “My men are ready to defend the keep should
Reasons why Fluttershy is Best PonyKindness is often seen as something admired, something that everyone should strive to have, but the world often takes that ideal and cuts it down to size with realism. Being kind all the time only allows for easier exploitation by those that would do it anyhow. Strength is something that can manifest itself in a great deal many ways; whether it is in raw muscle strength, intellectual fortitude, cardio endurance or inner resolve to see the end of things no matter how grim they may be. Benching a hefty amount is admirable and running a marathon is quite the feat, but it's always the quiet ones, the unassuming ones, that amaze the most with their strength and Fluttershy is absolutely no different in that regard.Reasons why Fluttershy is Best Pony1 year ago in Academic Essays More Like This
To judge a man only on his exterior persona is to be the ultimate foolThe clever hawk hides its claws. It is those that do not talk loudly, who bide their power in the corner and who choose their words carefully that hold the most strength. Do not look to the man who speaks
Murder Hound“What should we call the thing?” Sven’s voice is calm despite the presence of the monster in front of him, an entirely alien thing standing on six broad legs and twice the size of himself both in height and width. Shaped like a dog with a long and jagged tail ending in a razor point, a pronounced snout and rows of violent teeth colored dark red. Whether the teeth were always that color or it was a new thing the two men standing before the passed out creature could not say. They both hoped the teeth were always red. Something this large and violent in appearance could only be trouble if it consumed meat and drank blood.Murder Hound2 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Vampire dog sounds about right for this thing.” Max says while kicking the creature as it lies passed out in front of the two men.
“No. It’s too on the nose, you know. I was thinking murder hound.” Sven takes a cigarette out from a pack in his pocket, lights it and inhales a long drag only exhaling after casting his gaze t
The Wonders of Modern TrainsThe train was clacking down the rails, the smoke thick in the early afternoon air as it puffed out of the front. The smell stung my nostrils. Adjusting my glasses, I looked out the window close to my left out onto the vast plain that was unfolding as the train kept speeding west. A few wistful clouds were limping along in the sky. Mostly flat with few trees, the great steppe of the New World was beautiful for how barren it seemed. Any life a man could choose was right here. Whatever problems he may have faced before, here in the open wilderness with only God and the sky to watch over him a man could find peace.The Wonders of Modern Trains4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A small sound came from my right and, turning my head, I noticed a young woman take a seat close to me. Gloved hands, a fine lace dress and not a sign of dirt on here made my rather patchwork suit and tie seem all the more proletarian. I caught a glimpse of her face in the corner of my eye as I moved slightly to give her more room. She was beautiful. Short brunette hair, soft li
What to Name Your Plane“What’d you name her?” The pilot asks after exhaling some smoke, the mint flavor calming his nerves. He had to repeat himself when another plane took off the platform and drowned out his friend’s answer.What to Name Your Plane4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Stephanie. It was the name of my first girlfriend, good girl until she ran away to the other part of the country. She was beautiful too with a great body.” The other runs his hands in the air outlining a rather fully featured female form. The two laugh at it and continue smoking for a minute. “What are you gonna name your plane? This is your first one, right?”
The first pilot takes another drag on his cigarette and sits silent for a brief moment. “It is my first plane, haven’t thought of a name though. Thought of calling her Marie after my mother, Janice after my sister, those don’t really work though.”
“Come one, James, think of a good one. This bird’ll be with you for a while, make it a good on
RecollectionThe bed sheets were too soft for her—made her feel weak. She tossed the sheets off and piled furs atop herself to ward off the cool night air. The prickly feeling of the leather and hair made her feel home, made her feel calm. A heavy breeze blew into the bedchamber bringing with it the smell of the fruit garden down below. The smell of peaches and oranges never appealed to her anywhere, she turns over onto her side and empties her mind.Recollection9 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Memories came flooding back in as they often do at night. Long lost recollections and ideas better worth forgetting. One memory proved stubborn though, she tried to dislodge it, but still it remained to play in her mind.
It was summer, years ago back home to the north. He was handsome, a man with a rogue’s beard and grin, adorned with gold chains and necklaces, rings and the such made him stick out in this drab northern city. The man looked confused as he tried to get someone to stop so he could ask questions. None stopped, some even callin
An Archer's Start“What is the child’s name?” The captain is an old man of nearly sixty years, his face covered in a white beard and scars. She wondered how many more scars were hidden by the hair. “Well, what is its name? I don’t exactly have loads of time.” His voice is rising in annoyance; his mailed fingers begin tapping on the much nicked wooden table.An Archer's Start5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Eleonora, she is my daughter. I wish you to address her by name, not ‘it’.” The man’s voice is stern and his back straight, arms folded upon his chest. The older man scoffs at it and spits on the floor.
Said he after wiping the remnants of spit from his lips, “What exactly is it you want her to learn from me?”
The other man paces back and forth a moment, occasionally taking in the odor of the place and scrunching his nostrils at the smell. “I wish her to become an archer of repute, a fair swordsman as well. Your company is known for many great deeds.”
Reasons why Rainbow Dash is Best PonyHumanity often finds itself quite capable of wallowing in despair. Every teenager has believed that the world has fallen down around them and the pieces will never fit together again. Confidence is something to be admired at all times as it inspires like little else; when seen in others, confidence pushes others to perform far harder than they would alone. That is why men like Patton, Augustus, Sitting Bull or Oda Nobunaga had followings of men eager to do their duty. Confidence can make the foolish man seem intelligent when no one is acting and not acting is far worse than doing the wrong thingit is this level of confidence that makes Rainbow Dash best pony.Reasons why Rainbow Dash is Best Pony1 year ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Throwing oneself out to be judged by others is not an easy thing to do. Those that take part in contests are far better than those snarky bastards who scoff at the possibility of being shamed. Rainbow Dash always finds herself taking part in some contest of skill, speed, might, etc. The Iron Pony contest between Applejack an
A Soldier's Night at HomeThe fire was crackling as the wood was devoured by the flame. The dark reds and yellows moved atop and between the logs effortlessly. A spark would jump from one to the other and die, but a dozen more would soon appear only to be replaced by many more. My eyes were constantly drawn to the small fireplace in front of me. It kept me distracted from my own mind. That place was never quiet these days. Taking a sip from the glass in my hand I enjoyed the comfort the liquor provided me as it traveled down.A Soldier's Night at Home4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A sound like metal clanging came from outside and drew my attention for a brief moment. That damn neighbor of mine was out there working on something. His voice yelled and raged for brief intervals complaining about his horse’s inability to stay still. Dumb bastard was drunker than a boy at a wedding. Must have been trying to put a shoe on the beast that the horse didn’t much care for. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect to see him tomorrow morning either with hi
TyrannyI wander around my dorm room, nervously. Tomorrow, I have exams. But I don't give a damn. What tortures me more is this writer's block I've been suffering from for a few weeks. I feel like my brain has stopped functioning. I can form words. I can think. But all sentences my fingers give birth to are lackluster and stillborn. Every time, I can't help killing them with relentless press on the backspace key.Tyranny5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I look at my laptop on the desk. It looks miserable, too, with its black dusty screen. I let out a sigh, and keep wandering around the room as I mindlessly listen to the rain falling outside.
I sweep the trigonometry handouts on the table to the floor. I step on the pieces of paper as if they are the pulpy incarnations of the math teacher herself. I hate her boring voice, boring eyes, and the tormenting subject she teaches. Complicated formulas and geometric shapes in poor print condition crumple under my angry foot. I plunk down on my bed. The bed on the opposite side comes into my s
Proposition"Hey." Shit.Proposition5 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A familiar face sat down next to me as the train set in motion again. She would've been prettier if I could see past her surface, but she knew better than that. She was opaque now. It never used to be like this, so distant. The wall between us thickened as she lifted her hand to my face, a gentle touch that brought her eyes too close to mine and tugged at emotions pushed down only too recently. A dozen images flashed before me, memories of long ago and yesterday, memories with and without her. Those were nothing but imprints of the past, though, because my hope for a future where the two of us actually coexist is long dead. We tried to pick up the pieces even after admitting we were the definition of volatility, a volcano concealing a ticking time bomb. I shook my head of her delicate grip, despite the way my heart tore when she let go. Why did she let go? The debris still floated through my mind from the aftermath of the eruption, clo
The Chattering MineThe quota had been set high that morning by another corporate fat cat desperate to impress his buyers with his god given ability to haggle with the miners. The stuff down the mines was valuable—it fueled ships and tanks. Without it, the whole system would collapse. No one could wage war effectively without tanks, everyone knew that! The overseer smiled when the fat cat said he needed so much, she hadn’t stopped since. That was almost an entire year’s worth of purchase made in a single morning and this was still the first quarter. She and all her miners were in for a raise, she figured. God knows they worked hard and bitched almost as hard about their small pay. Get this rock off planet and they’d live comfortable for a few weeks or maybe a whole month.The Chattering Mine5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Chief Janik would have to hear of the order though. An order this size required immediate attention and careful planning. Trying to radio down the mines proved impossible though, the minerals played havoc w
Socialism and EqualityOne of the main arguments against communism or even socialism is that the state would force everyone to be identical--same clothes, same skills, same everything. In this, our contractors are wholly wrong.Socialism and Equality1 year ago in Personal More Like This
Communism is entirely about liberating the individual from the shackles of self-oppression and capitalist oppression.
Oppression of the self comes from the disenfranchisement that stems from the differences of the social classes; those with everything, those with some and those with nothing. We all feel it, every day. The rich and the powerful who cruise in their jets to their summer homes they don't need, their lives a comfortable existence withdrawn from material suffering--a life of vapid plenty. Then there's the petty-bourgeois that many communists find themselves in; our lives are comfortable in that food is rarely scarce, but we sell out bodies and minds on the capitalist market to survive. If we refuse than we die. The throngs of the proletariat that constantly find themselves
Apartment 301Apartment 301Apartment 3018 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Blue smoke hung gloomily over the north side, pouring out of refineries which had nearly become obsolete not so long ago, in the good old days. Gord Bondarchuk had lived in Edmonton all his seventy-two years, and he could remember a time when fusion power was coming to save the day, when hover cars had begun to crisscross the sky, and when space planes were fast becoming the best and safest way to travel. He could not for the life of him, however, remember a time when living on any one of the little offshoots of 118th Avenue was not miserable and intimidating.
Gord sat in his ancient rocking chair—the one he kept hidden in a corner, as it had been made when quality was paramount and real living wood could be found without going to the Rocky Mountains and you never could tell when some pack of orphans would climb up your wall to snatch anything worth pawning—and stared pensively into the alleyway. Dusk had come, the billowing clouds of smoke turned a dazzling s
The Second Battle of Everfree Forest (MLP)“The Second Battle of Everfree Forest”, taken from “A History of the First Changeling War” as written by Bent Quill, 176 W.O.C. Published by Parchment’s BooksThe Second Battle of Everfree Forest (MLP)2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Second Battle of Everfree Forest was the decisive battle during the war; it was here in the forest that even now many fear to tread that saw the fortunes of Equestria reverse from broken to a military machine that would expel the changeling hordes from Equestria. As detailed in the previous chapter, the first battle was a completely unmitigated disaster for the forces of Her Majesty. It is from defeat that lessons are learned the best and the outcome of the Second Battle of Everfree Forest proves that moral all too well.
The new leader of the army, Red Spear who had taken command from the now-dead Zama, learned well from the mistakes of his old commander: The first was to utilize the heavy infantry of th
The Thing in the HoldThe sound coming from the mess hall was a mix of curses and lusty desires from men who had not seen a woman for years now. Space travel was not one for the needy; years would peel back during the long transits from the mining outposts to the core worlds. My crew was good at their job, the best. They could strip the ore from any vein and turn a profit. They were all embittered asses at the best of the times, all too willing to sell their mothers if the price was right, but no one could mine like them.The Thing in the Hold1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I don’t want to even think what the reporters back home will do to them after they hear about this haul.
I turned the corner into the mess hall and was greeted with a jovial cheer from the crew. Six of them, all miners and far more: a doctor there, requisition officer there. I was their medic, doing the best I could with outdated equipment and filthy working conditions down in the mines. I managed to keep the med-bay clean enough. Those bastards did all they could to sully that place
The Battle of the Sunken PlainThe sound of battle was overwhelming my senses. The clash of steel, the shouts in so many languages, the cracks of the rifles behind us and the chanting of the ghillie shamans was absolutely deafening and impossible to decipher in its madness. In front of my battle line, over the line of shields held close together came the sound of a renewed charge from the warriors of the north. They howled like wolves out for blood and came charging again with swords, axes and claws held high. A few even had what looked to be fire held in hand and would fling it at our lines. The crackling red would slam into a shield and burst into nothing more than smoke, a trick meant to inspire fear.The Battle of the Sunken Plain3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Women of the south, hold your shields high! Beat back these barbarians and show them your strength!” Sergeant Theresa shouts above the din of battle and raises her own shield high in cheer. Gripping our shields tighter, our fingers aching from the hold we have on our swords the enemy comes closer and cl
Changing the BannersA few years ago I found myself in the middle of the revolution that overthrew the Republic of Protegard. Drawn to the country by the string of other revolutionaries and agitators, I was unable to resist the siren call of righteous violence. How wrong I was I could not even fathom at the time. The youthful acceptance of the means to justify the ends, that any cost was perfectly allowable if the end result was freedom. That a despot’s blood alone could wash away all that hate was my guiding belief for my younger years. So many of us were drunk on the thrill, drawn to the cause for all manner of reasons, we made an uneasy alliance of beliefs and causes. Some of us, myself included, could barely speak the slow and heavy tongue of this small country in the east yet still we went. To think we understood the place and those within. We were all convinced that the leaders of this republic deserved little else than a swift kick out of power and that the people in their amorphous shape shouChanging the Banners7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Pact Between Humans and PigeonsFor years I was led to believe we humans had a pact, most probably a silent and unwritten one, with pigeons whose terms were that we appoint eccentric and mostly old people to feed them at various locations throughout our cities and other settlements, and in return they were to fly away off our roads when we drove our cars towards them down said roads.The Pact Between Humans and Pigeons6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This morning, less than an hour ago, while I drove my car down the road, a pigeon stood still and did not fly away. I had to stop my car and risk having an accident. Luckily there were no cars behind me and I arrived at my destination safely.
I believe this to be a direct violation of the pact. I expect that our representatives deal with this issue and warn the pigeon communities and their possible leaders throughout the world not to repeat this clear and grave violation.
We all - humans and animals - must respect the pacts, including the unwritten ones, if we are to live in peace with each other.
Have a good week, humans and animals ali