Story a Day (II)

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What Came Before

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« on: June 02, 2013, 02:31:55 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
Francis, that's why I think to consider a web of respects for those who don't hit the first places. Some of them might actually be more deserving. I remember a story someone said that a publisher had their nine year old read a book to evaluate whether it got published. Kid said it's probably more for eight years olds, but still pretty good. So Tolkien got published.

Respects to the other places.

Good luck with it, Francis! Better a bumpy ride than no ride!


~~~Story

A child suddenly realising it's been given a death sentence.

A terror rises to crescendo - then collapses like a house of cards into a pool of black ink.

The notion arises again, latter, the terror too, but it collapses. Willowing each time. Like a door wallpapered over.

I suspect there is something in my head that prohibits being swollowed by this fear.

Scientists say we were down to two thousand individuals at one point in our ancient history. Edge of extinction.

What if it was at a turning point in psychology - suddenly people realised. And they wailed. And the wailing would not stop. And it spread, making others awaken to it, wake up screaming.

And only two thousand remained. The stupid, the suppressed.

Ancestors.

EDIT [Madness]: Changed thread title.
« Last Edit: May 15, 2014, 03:16:02 pm by Madness »

What Came Before

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« Reply #1 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:05 pm »
Quote from: sciborg2
@Callan: Not sure if I understand that last one. The kid is sentenced to die and then starts philosophizing?

Story 169 Dec 6

My friend, she tells me of her latest hook up and I try not to wince. It's not that I haven't done the same, hell at least she sorta knew the guy.

All the strangers I've fucked, but then I met Alice and suddenly I get these flashbacks to a past life. We thought about sex differently then.

God, it's so fucking stupid, to be injected with this ideal for a saintly virgin, something my commie-hippie atheist parents made sure I never fell for.

It's stupid anyway, I'm not in love with Alice. It's not even me, not really, just my soul in love with a woman a thousand years dead.

/Story

Story 170 Dec 7

"When the time stream changes...will we ever meet?"

The way she looks at me, we both know the answer is no.

Our love was born of humanity scattering, our hearts found each other after the slaughter.

The Hell Breach made us better people, no doubt about it. And now we've won, and it will never happen, and we'll live and die as the assholes we were always meant to be.

/Story

What Came Before

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« Reply #2 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:12 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
Saajan, it kind of skips around in time, though the point of realisation is timeless, orginating at the childs realisation. The execution is not for quite some time. Decades, even. There's supposed to be that 'dump' point when you realise. It's probably a bit of a self indulgent writing, given the indulgence it asks for to get to that.

But essentially a kid starts philosophizing, yeah.

What Came Before

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« Reply #3 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:18 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
What is it I see - the hurt, or perhaps more the beseiged bastion remaining behind so many nettle stings?

The weight of having bought a job, to run a business, yet still shell out your earnings to a faceless?

I presume it's you who owns this place - I see you early enough, often enough.

You've come to recognise me to some degree, I think, that half human relationship of customer and service. Sadly I am stuck, like someone peeping over to see the contents of a diary, to seeing more though. Maybe it's another reason why the dollar divide which can't be closed, can't be closed - it just burns. To see too much, like staring into a sun.

Or maybe I just make up that perception of seeing? One time I wondered how I hadn't noticed you were so tall - but then it turned out behind the counter you were just standing on box, as you checked inventory?

But what is it that I see? You're like iron somewhere in there, yet like softness - in fact do you hide that iron behind the genuine softness of you? A castle protected by a wall of it's people?

- Ode to a Subway worker.

What Came Before

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« Reply #4 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:27 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
Why did you step on my tree?

It was several meters into the property - granted, the driveway has no fence, so your inward stagger would not be abated by someone elses efforts, only your own discipline.

Why did you step on my tree?

It's a sapling, was bent over, now trussed up on the last of it's good bark, with some spiked wire around it and a couple of wheelie bins ahead. To avert your gaze, because thats as much as it takes to distract what little of you operates within your skull. Not to say you are stuck there, but then again you are as much and as much not as a computer loaded with the minimum software for it's heart to beat.

And my own minimum reaches: - why did you step on my tree?

I bet I could trace a litany of bent in your life, inflicted on you, skewing your life to the twist of here. This is just collatteral damage in the killing of you.

Or maybe you're just trash.

Why?

Nihilist gets bandied around - but often it's with people who describe nihilism. That takes effort. Is that really for real? Or is the true expression here - the empty destructiveness you find between the effort it'd take you to kill yourself and the fact you're heart keeps beating and hungering, animating you like some kind of rediculous puppet corpse? The a'tween. Undead. Zombie.

I know you've been here. I know your stink. I aught to. You've no idea the lawn I've to mow in you, the lazy knife of words. Or maybe that wouldn't work. But that's okay, I can kick that head all day. The emptyness beneath your empty. A void that swollows voids. Find out.

Or would could have been nice.

What Came Before

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« Reply #5 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:35 pm »
Quote from: Madness
Feb 18/

"By the hatred that drives my hand..."

The message fell from her fingertips, the sweaty scrawl smudged across crumbled sheaf. Words that scarred.

"By the lie of bliss in your presence..."

Her heart pounded, beat against her chest in violent reminder.

"I swear..."

Rushing ears while the mundane fogged at the periphery.

"vengeance for your love."

She knows.

Her hand found the reins and the cold leather in hand reminded her of the resolving world. The fire bloomed before her, flames licking the warming air, savouring the fuel of her lover's last words.

Running had been the hardest decision she'd ever made. The decision she wrestled with in the depths of night's terror and the peaks of day's joy.

The decision she made still...

What Came Before

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« Reply #6 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:43 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
"You saw the accused on the night of the murder", the defence asked.

"As far as I can tell I did, from my attempts to recall", the witness spoke.

There was a pause in the courtroom.

"As far as you can tell? From your attempts to recall? Did you or did you not see the accused?", the defence pushed.

"I've already told you, from what I can tell...", the witness continued

Beginings of unrest from the judge, an indignancy rising up in him from an also rising awareness of there being an obstinant person in his court. When only he gets to be obstinant - not that he thought that. But a pace or two away from his current understanding and the snake of his indignancy simply becomes the trunk of an obstinant elephant. As much as one is obliged to describe bullets that just barely miss, surely this is an obligation as well?

"From what you can tell of your own experience?", the defence fairly gasped, all but turning to the jury in exasperation as local law did not allow such. But still managing to turn without turning "You hardly strike me as a reliable witness, when you barely seem to know yourself!"

Something like iron dipped into the witnesses eyes. Something like a judge itself.

"Is this court aware of cognitive bias studies...?", the witness speaks, heavy lidded, trailing, as if an executioner speaking warrant.

The impertinence rises on the Judges back like hackles, as indeed it does so literally as well.

"In this courtroom you are to answer questions to the best of your ability or I will have to reprimand you with contempt of court. Witness, please ", the word please hissing with its lie of gun-to-your-head-aren't-I-reasonableness "answer the questions as best you can"

The laughter is non sequitur - low, full...inviting, even. None can indeed enact reprimands for something that is so out of place...worse, for something that tickles and pricks, a whisper like something overhead from the back row of a class, something that seems so in place. Like midnight coming at a masquerade ball.

It ebbs, before it can meet the requirements of the norm for that which offends.

The iron in the eyes of the witness eyes glitters, as if at foundry. The dishonesty, the misstruth they ask - they demand at gun point. The witness is just a man, he has no care for causes at random occasions - to lay down part of his life in a concrete box, or even risk all of it. Yet the other way lies another death of another kind, and he has no wish to be undead either.

Inwardly he laughs again, tastes the moment of release that is the insanity of being an animal backed into a corner. The simple release of choosing snarling, snapping, biting - no more complex world, just simple direction. He muses, chooses his next words like a butcher chooses his knives.

What Came Before

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« Reply #7 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:52 pm »
Quote from: sciborg2
Ah, more to catch up on...

What Came Before

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« Reply #8 on: June 02, 2013, 02:32:58 pm »
Quote from: Madness
Lol, drop in the bucket compared to your portfolio here, sci ;).

Callan, I know everyone seems to hate on Card but this reminded me so much of this short story he has. I'll try and find it.

What Came Before

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« Reply #9 on: June 02, 2013, 02:33:05 pm »
Quote from: Callan S.
Mike, if this Card guy has the character suddenly realise he has a weasel word get out by simply claiming it's his religion to doubt his memory and perception, I'll freak!! I was thinking of editing that in.

What Came Before

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« Reply #10 on: June 02, 2013, 02:33:12 pm »
Quote from: Madness
Orson Scott Card? Not in that story, anyways.

No, without spoilers, its about about an American dissenter, in Russia-Occupied America (circa. 1980's), who is forced to give a "convincing" guilty-plea.

The Great Scald

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« Reply #11 on: October 25, 2013, 07:00:49 pm »
Great thread, the little one-shot stories here are really interesting.

Francis Buck, could you re-post yours? I'm having a hard time finding it in this thread.

Francis Buck

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« Reply #12 on: October 25, 2013, 07:23:48 pm »
Which one do you mean, the short story I submitted to the contest?

The Great Scald

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« Reply #13 on: October 25, 2013, 07:34:20 pm »
Which one do you mean, the short story I submitted to the contest?

Yep. I'd be interested in reading it.

Francis Buck

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« Reply #14 on: October 25, 2013, 07:50:36 pm »
Alrighty, here's the link to the PDF: http://francisbuck.deviantart.com/art/The-Wolf-and-the-Wanderer-409448261

Thanks for reading.