Friday, February 28, 2014

100 Words a Day 560 La Pintura Negra 3/15

The old man and the friar shuffled through the night. They were miles from town or village and without bedrolls, so they trudged on. The old man used his cane to steady his steps, and the friar used the old man.

“We must surely find the town soon,” the friar said, leaning close to the old man’s ear.

The old man said nothing. He continued walking, feeling the stones of the road beneath his cane.

The friar had finally had enough of the silence. A frustrated gurgle issued from his throat and he began tearing at the old man’s beard.

100 Words a Day 559 La Pintura Negra 2/15

The dog sat, submerged in the sand. It did not remember how it had arrived at its present state. As a matter of fact, it could not remember anything before realizing it was buried in the sand. It looked around. The landscape was a featureless tan, except for two things. There was someone watching the dog. They made no move to help him; they simply stood and observed. Then there was something else the dog could not quite comprehend. It looked as though someone had managed to spill coffee in the air and it had left a dark stain there.

100 Words a Day 558, La Pintura Negra 1/15

The titan put the child to his lips and bit with naked savagery into the soft god-flesh. With each maddening mouthful, he ensured the continuation of his reign anew. Gore covered his hands and chin, dripping down into the darkness, the silence broken only by his grotesque mastication. He had hidden himself away, but had any been present, they would have been unable to see the insanity that left his eyes wide and staring. After a loud swallow, he took another bite, and then another, until the small being had been consumed completely and then went back into the light.

Monday, February 24, 2014

100 Words a Day 557

He washed the dishes in a mechanical fashion, a trite description for an activity that one does thoughtlessly and through repetitive motion. It is much more than that though. It’s efficient. It leaves the mind free to ponder. Alternatively, one can focus on washing the dishes, turning their mind completely to that mindless activity. This has the curious effect of turning a thoughtless, automated task into an undertaking requiring considerable mental fortitude. The practice of maximizing one’s efficiency, and mechanicalness, necessitates the elimination of all extraneous movements. Curiously, regardless of one’s achievement, they still appear quite mindless to the observer.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

100 Words a Day 556

The clouds gathered ominously in the sky and I hurried home. The wind cut through the trees, making them shake in anticipation. I closed the door against the chilly gusts and threw my bag down on the floor. It was late and I was tired. I barely managed to undress and stumble into bed. I sighed and settled in. It was darker than normal owing to the storm clouds. The wind whistled and shook my window. My eyes were already heavy; I was on the verge of dozing. The siren song of the wind lulled me into a deep sleep.

100 Words a Day 555

It was a warm summer night so I left my window open. The breeze was pretty constant in the summer and I loved letting it lull me to sleep.

As I lay there, the breeze danced across my back and I felt myself sink deeper into the soft mattress and pillow.

The chimes outside my window clinked softly as the wind danced through them.

The smell of green grass filled my nostrils, bringing a smile to my lips and eliciting a contented sigh.

The odor of the barbeque from earlier lingered; my mouth watered, and I dreamt of succulent things.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

100 Words a Day 554

He was due to arrive in ten minutes. There was thirty minutes left till dinner. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

“That smells amazing,” he said as he entered, rising up to his full height and flaring his nostrils to inhale as much of the sautéed garlic smell as possible.

“I know,” she thought.

“I’m sorry,” she said with feigned embarrassment, “I’m running a little behind on my cooking.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind hanging out in the kitchen.”

In the kitchen, dinner was on the stove. It crackled and sizzled and was a riot of reds, greens, and yellows.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

100 Words a Day 553

The weird weather had created a thick fog that sat unmoving in the streets. The rain had melted the snow, leaving large, dirty puddles at all the crosswalks.

They stood in the drizzle, waiting for the bus, and looked at the heavy fog. It had reduced visibility down the skyscraper lined street to a block or so.

“Hey man. The fog is like a fog door in Dark Souls. You don’t know what’s beyond it. It could be anything.”

“Yeah, or like that horror movie with the fog. There could be anything out there, and we’d never know.”

“Fuckin nerds.”

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

100 Words a Day 552

“And so it ultimately came to pass, fascists came in the guise of antifascists and created a totalitarian state that was as invasive as any dystopian fiction. Curiously, it was the country’s own ideological preoccupation with equality that allowed their new masters to come to power, rod in one hand and the banner of egalitarianism in the other.”

“The other half of the island, seeing the plight of their neighbors, opted for less government. Rapid acquisition of things like utilities occurred, and as more of their necessities came under the purview of increasingly large corporations, they too found themselves enslaved.”

100 Words a Day 551

“I put the shadow of my hand over this country! When I came to this place there was nothing, fractured tribes, no civilization, no learning!”

He stood up from his throne and held his gilded sword, the symbol of his rule, over his head; the people kowtowed before him.

“Where there was once nothing, now there are farms, cities, learning! Mothers no longer fear letting their daughters walk the streets on moonless nights. The specters of disease and famine loom no longer over these lands!”

He put his sword down and exhaled before continuing. “I demand so little in return.”

Monday, February 17, 2014

100 Words a Day 550

The Corpse Mound rolled down Michigan Avenue, leaving smashed buildings in its fetid wake.

“Well, there’s something I never thought I’d see,” Rachel said, double checking her ax.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Cecilia agreed.

The two hefted their weapons and walked purposefully towards the ball of bodies, which reminded them vaguely of Katamari Damacy, not that either of them had ever played.

The ball gave no signs of slowing as it approached them, and they continued to walk towards it. The other inhabitants of the city were fleeing from the ball, generally running west and into the hands of more monsters.

100 Words a Day 549

They had their arms around each other before the door shut. They crushed their bodies together, feeling heat wherever they touched.

The clothes began flying off. Vintage t shirts, ironic glasses, and fashionable shoes were everywhere. They were down to pants when they encountered a serious problem.

Both of them struggled to stay upright with their pants around their ankles.

“Skinny jeans,” she said with a hint of an embarrassed smile.

He was grateful she was struggling with her pants as well.

Things had cooled down considerably by the time they had managed to struggle free of their tight denim.

100 Words a Day 548

“Ugh, I hate geese! They are so loud!” Terah exclaimed.

“Well, I’ve got a solution for you. Come with me.” Ed replied.

Terah and Ed went outside, picking up a strange looking rifle on the way. Ed took Terah to a spot near a flock of geese, which ignored them.

“Watch this,” Ed said, smiling.

He put the strange rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. There was a loud crack and one of the head of one of the birds fell to the ground.

“Woah! How did you do that?” Terah asked.

“Remember the shuriken gun in Quake?”

Friday, February 14, 2014

100 Words a Day 547

A laser blast rocked the hovertruck.

“Shit, Don Juan Casanova didn’t waste any time scrambling his goons.”

Casey Jones began weaving between buildings, desperate to avoid the laser fire of the agile hoverspeeders.

“Get back there and see if you can give them something to think about!”

Clint staggered from the cab, pulling out has laserpistol as he went.

He stumbled towards the back, intent on lowering the gate enough to fire at the bikes. The truck jerked to the side, causing a box to crash to the floor, its contents spilling at his feet.

It was a rocket launcher.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

100 Words a Day 546

As practice was finishing Hugo asked Edward if they were still on to hit Club Arotika that night. After receiving an affirmative, Hugo asked Don if he wanted to go. Don wasn’t tempted; there would be some totally bodacious ladies there, and they had a reputation for being up for a good time. Don had a nice lady waiting at home. She knew how to cook and always made delicious things. She’d told him there was something special on the menu that evening; he hoped it was lamb chops, just like the ones he used to get at Greek Islands.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

100 Words a Day 545

The greatest tragedy in love is love unattempted. It leaves people feeling unfulfilled, possessed of an ineffable disappointment and a yearning for closure, be it finding the heights of heady, amorous eternity or dwelling forever in the black house of love not only lost, but scorned. Narrative Imperative drives people to finish a love story, if even only in their head, to avoid that feeling of having eaten but still being vaguely hungry. Imagine if Romeo and Juliet had separated and simply gotten on with their lives. That would have been boring shit and no one would have watched it.

100 Words a Day 544

The tiger dragged the body through the street. The people peeked through cracked doors or shutters. None dared to face the orange demon. The corpse was largely free of blood; the tiger broke the boy’s neck with the crushing grip of its jaw. The beast looked neither right nor left as it pulled its meal down the street. When the tiger reached the tree line, it let the fleshy corpse fall from its mouth and gave a roar. The villagers huddled together, not daring to leave their flimsy huts. Satisfied, the tiger retrieved its meal and vanished among the trees.

Monday, February 10, 2014

100 Words a Day 543

He didn’t cry as his classmates jeered, nor when Biff slapped his book across the room. He knew it would just make things worse, so he stood and stared silently at the floor. When Joannifer ran laughing over to Biff and pulled him away, to go behind the bleachers no doubt, Barry did nothing. Eventually the crowd dispersed, bored by the spectacle of a stock-still boy. He trudged across the room and retrieved his book, placing it in his backpack. When the cafeteria was empty, he let his face contort with rage. The anger of revenge boiled up within him.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

100 Words a Day 542

There was no smell; the body had been removed. Detective Slade made his way through the house, examining the other rooms. He unlocked the basement door, having acquired a spare key to the house from the victim’s sister. He descended the creaky stairs, banishing the darkness with a flick of the light switch. The basement was unexpectedly dry. There was a rack hanging with laundry. It was dry. The rack was next to a washer, which was loaded. The cover was up and there was a scoop of laundry detergent waiting to be added. It seemed the victim was interrupted.

100 Words a Day 541

And again he vomited. His stomach cramps were nearly unbearable and he could no longer stand. Once the heaving had stopped though, he resumed eating the cherries. When the first one burst under the pressure of his teeth, its sweet juices made him forget the pain. He swallowed the syrupy mash, feeling it scrape his raw esophagus and settle into his aching belly. The seeds were scattered all about him, mixed with half-digested vomit. He reached with a shaking hand for another mass of cherries from the sack he had bought. They still tasted so good; he continued to eat.

100 Words a Day 540

They ran through the graveyard as fast as they dared. It was dark and the headstones difficult to see. Sam felt detached as he ran. It was so cliché, a bunch of teenagers hanging out in a graveyard at night and suddenly zombies begin popping out of the ground. The sight of a hand thrusting up from the ground broke his reflection and he tried to put on more speed.

There was a certain amount of Narrative Imperative present in Colma being ground zero for the zombie apocalypse. There were many times more people buried there than were living there.

100 Words a Day 539

The last two days had been hell. He had crashed his ATV and was unable to walk. He had spent two cold nights in the woods, shivering and afraid, and two hot days dragging himself along the ground. His neck ached from looking up and his shirt in tatters. He pulled himself up one last hill with aching arms.

He crested the hill and saw the town. Despite his exhaustion, dehydration, and pain, he began to cry tears of joy. The sun touched the town’s whitewashed church, nearly blinding him with brilliant reflection. He found renewed strength and pulled on.

100 Words a Day 538

Years of fickle showers had taught him to be an expert knob-turner. He set the water and walked away, knowing it would need time to settle on a temperature. He placed his towel on one radiator and his robe, which he had inherited from his grandfather, on the other. When he stepped into the shower, the water was hot, quickly washing the chill of the day from his bones and down the drain. Several minutes passed while he let the warmth sink in, feeling his skin expand at the heat. A hot towel waited for him and after, the robe.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

100 Words a Day 537

Gregor pulled the tome from its resting place, groaning under its weight as the shelf groaned in relief. He staggered to the table and let the book down. It was bound in red leather with Tales of Dragons written in gold lettering on the cover. Cracking the book, Gregor began searching for entries on Blackwing. He was a dragon that had terrorized the region for decades and there was much written about him, and even more oral history. If the assault on his lair was to succeed, Gregor would have to sift through the legends surrounding the fiery, black beast.

100 Words a Day 536

“Man, I just started the sweetest book! It’s called El señor de los anillos. It’s an ethnography about a bunch of strange cultures, but it’s written in this amazing format of a professor giving a lecture of filibuster proportions.”

“Oh man, that sounds amazing! I’ve never heard of a text like that!”

“Yeah, it’s revolutionary. I bet it will spawn an entire genre. There’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, every now and then, just when the lecture is about to get going, they interrupt it with an action scene! I mean, a whole freakin’ chapter where something goes on!”

100 Words a Day 535

I rarely cried after my teenage years, whether because of some cultural conditioning or natural temperament I cannot say, but that’s who I was. That didn’t stop me from bawling when my mother passed.

I was there for her end. She decided to go peacefully at home, far from the sterile hospital where the doctor had delivered the news.

After she exhaled that final time, I broke down, crying on my knees. I gradually slipped from the bed until I was balled on the floor, oblivious to everything except that the woman I had known my whole life was gone.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

100 Words a Day 534

"The Companions are way better than the Fellowship!"

"What the shit are you talking about? The Companions have a kender with them."

"I'll concede that. However, all of the Companions have flaws and are real people. There are no walking Deus Ex Machinas in the group.”

“Hey! Gandalf doesn’t always pull them out of the fire.”

“You’re right, when Gandalf isn’t there to do it, Aragorn or Elrond does it.”

“What about that old guy in the inn?”

“You mean the one who gets the party started? It takes a whole book for anything exciting to happen in Tolkien’s books.”

100 Words a Day 533

He walked among the little people, and was loved for it. They owed him their taxes, but nothing more, certainly not their affections. He was welcomed into every village with cheers. He ate with lords and farmers and took their concerns to heart. They showered him with adulation because of the way he treated them. They who owed him so much; they had no sword over his head nor hand on his coin purse, yet he treated them as equals. They judged him as a man should be judged, by his behavior towards those who held no leverage over him.

100 Words a Day 532

Everyone jumped as the door slammed open. They turned and found Philip double over and panting. After he caught his breathe, he spoke:

“Did you guys hear!?”

His friends said nothing; they merely stared at him in confusion.

“J.K. Rowling is going to rewrite Harry Potter!”

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“She is rewriting Harry Potter so Harry and Hermione get together at the end.”

“Yes!” Rachel exclaimed. “I always knew it should be that way. Ron is a loser.”

“What! That’s nonsense! Ron and Hermione were perfect for each other!”

The arguing went on for quite some time.

100 Words a Day 531

The Leather Rebels roared into town, the pounding of their steeds’ iron hooves drowned out by their spectral screams. Leaving a trail of torn ground in their wake, they marauded through the town. They set fire to everything they passed, laughing at the screams of those who cowered in futile shelters. Once every structure was a crackling inferno, they took turns leaping their nightmare mounts over the wreckage, laughing when one of them failed to clear the jump. They always emerged from the firestorms unscathed and returned again to jumping. When the town was cinders, they vanished into the night.

100 Words a Day 530

The mines were vacant. The fires burned low; no bellows stoked them. The sound of hammer on anvil was a drizzle where normally it was a torrent. The mountain kings had assembled all their subjects and slaves in the great halls. The goblinkin were dressed in the finest they could muster. Most had backs bowed by grueling labor, but here and there those could be seen standing tall with proud chests. It was the day of their emancipation. Generations of goblins had toiled to fulfill the contract that saved their race and now days of sweat were at an end.