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Offlinejoekenorer
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Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE
    #7130925 - 07/05/07 02:51 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

This thread is for anyone who wants to write and/or read very short stories. I've always wanted to write the next great novel, but have found that my inspiration comes in short bursts. So I've decided to start a compendium of short stories. Please, critique mine and add your own as well.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130931 - 07/05/07 02:52 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

At the Post


My hands were bound by rough, hand-crafted rope. The stiff frayings of fiber dug into my wrists like a boars bristles. The large timber between my hands and back was barkless cedar and its sweet aroma was imbued with irony. I couldn't see with the blindfold on, but I could hear the kindling being piled beneath my feet. It too smelled of cedar, for witch-burners believed it was a sacred tree, the kind of sacred tree used to burn poor bastards like me to the dirt. On trumped up charges at that. See, my neighbor was behind his home chopping wood for the coming winter season, and I came over - Now this fuckers hefting a nine pound double headed axe at the age of eighty-three - to invite him to have dinner with me and my family after the morning service. Well, I wasn't immediately aware that the crucifix on my necklace was caught in a fold of my vest making it hang upside down, but it became quite clear when the old man began to point and scream at it. He demanded I fix it accordingly lest I disgrace the lord. "Well shit!" I say, kinda' loosing my head because he was telling ME how to handle ME. "I'm gonna' wear it like this all day, fucker. fuck you! HAIL SATAN mother FUCKER!" Well, heh, the old man didn't like that. So he told the elders and right in the middle of my morning constitutional they pull me off the shitter. Couldn't even get my pants up. They strung me up to this damned pole and are preparing to test my faith. If I am a follower of any deity other than God, I will not burn, and will therefore have to be killed. Fortunately I'm really a christian so I should die in the initial burning. Thank God.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
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Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130934 - 07/05/07 02:53 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

Bad experience in the good field.


My brother and I were traveling across a large cow field near where we live here in Alabama. We were finding a few sparse patches of cubes, but nothing to write home about. We were about halfway between the old, wooden farmers house and the pond when we heard the distinct sound of the spring on a screen door. Many of you in the south know this sound well. Instinctively we dove to the ground and lay flat in the 7" grass. The old man waived his shotgun in the air and fired a round. He then screamed "Thats the only warning shot you'll get! I'm looking right at you!". We were about 75 yards away from him and under a new moon. We were freaking out, I could hear J Breathing heavily and my heart was lifting me from the ground as it beat. We panicked and decided to hope for mercy and call his bluff. He fired another shot and it hit the ground right between us, throwing up grass and dirt in our eyes. It was a wide pattern and the thought of outrunning him began to manifest. Suddenly another shot, again right between us. But this time when the dirt flew up J jerked hard and rolled over to his knees, grasping at his face. The old man started yelling again. "Are ya' hurt? You better come here or I'll blow your fuckin' knees out and bury you in my wifes garden!" J didn't move, besides breathing heavily, almost sobbing. I was freaked out by now and was fully ready to surrender. I stood straight up from my prone position and threw my arms in the air. The farmer grabbed a spotlight from a nearby truck and shined us, being sure to burn our retinas. J started breathing heavier now, and just as I was taking the first step toward the old man, he jumped and dashed for the pond at top speed. The old man brought up his gun under one arm expertly while holding the light in his other hand. The wide, bright beam traced J's movement as he took aim. When J got close to the pond, the old man fired. But J had cut sharply to the right along the edge of the water. After about 3 seconds The beam was far away from me, so I sprinted in the opposite direction. I heard two, maybe three shots behind me (funny how in the heat of the moment you can't seem to remember something as clear as gunshots). I got to the fence, baseball slid under the bottom electric strap, and got away into the swamp with only a slight electric shock. I wondered hard about J. I was very worried how all of this would play out. I kinda' knew the old farmer had written me off as escaped, but if J got killed, then thats partly my fault because I called him over to me moments before the old man came out.

I awoke the following afternoon to the sound of someone screaming my name coming from my computer. I looked up from the couch and Counter-Strike was still running, because I didn't exit it when I laid down. I was still in a server that was empty. Except for one person. It was J, screaming "M. Get the fuck up, dude. I know your asleep while still connected to the clan server. Miiike!". I grabbed up my headset and slipped it on. I saw him standing there in l337 terror model. I instantly shot him in the head and killed him. the round restarted and he was like "Thats fucked up, dude." I asked
"what happened? He coughed for a second and said "Dude. That fucker shot my tooth out! I bled like a bitch all morning, it finally stopped. When I ran he chased me a bit, but I was losing him fast. I looked back and just as I did, he stepped right in a goddamn hole in the ground that I barely missed myself. He flew forward while his leg stood still. I think the old fucker broke it in half. And guess what?"
"Um, what?"
"I got the shrooms"

That night we tripped so hard that we eventually accepted the idea that the old man needed to be killed, along with all of his livestock. Human included.
We crept back into the field later that night, and happened upon a grazing calf. I slipped out first and moved over to the docile beast and laid my hands ceremoniously upon its shoulders, chanting something I still don't understand to this day. J came over the fence, dragging an 8lb sledge hammer he found somewhere behind him. He had developed a hunch and began grunting. I had the distinct feeling that he had de-evolved into a caveman of some sort. He ran at a hunched over gallop at the calf and swung the hammer with one arm over his head and bashed the back of its skull in. The animal immediately stumbled, then fell. The hammer was lodged, and we danced around the corpse quietly singing the The Doors "Unknown Soldier". We cried for almost an hour after that, feeling intense introspective nightmares fueled by the imagery that was lifeless on the ground. We calmed down, smoked a bowl, and left quietly. We stopped short at the woodline and watched the other cattle slowly move in around the corpse, which we both understood as mourning. We had later that day developed intricate plans to finish the task, but started coming down off the shrooms and got bored with it. We were both covered in cow blood, cow shit, and mud so we slept outside in the yard.

What the fuck was wrong with us? This never happened to me on shrooms before. It felt like I was someone completely different, like a silent witness deep inside the mind of some ancient, tribeless Shaman. I felt powerful and just in everything I did. J said he was just doing what I told him unquestioningly and didn't know why. I don't remember telling him to do anything or even speaking to him for that matter. Very, very intense and enlightening in a way I can't describe.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130946 - 07/05/07 02:56 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

Too much


"What were you thinking? No one should eat that much acid right before a funeral. Jesus man, do you honestly think you're just gonna' ride this shit through the whole service? Well let me tell you now, this shits gonna' ride you, and hard, and you'll probably have another permanent personality shift. Heh, good luck. I'm not going to that fucker with you tripping like Moses on the mountain in front of that corpse. Later."
He mentioned the personality shift. This is a phenomena I've experienced twice. Once on LSD, the other on the psilocybin mushrooms of Grandbay. It goes like this. In many cases, being alone during a trip - or anytime during a trip for me - will leave you pondering many things you normally wouldn't think about. Very mundane things like watching the news and considering the distance between the anchorman/lady, the light reflecting off of them, or the order of the stories and why these things are put together in such a way. (I later discovered that there is a dictated method for these things on all news stations. And television in general.) You basically begin to change your mind about many deep rooted thoughts and ideas because, well, thats where your mind wanders to when you start thinking at such an alarming pace. Once you finally come down and get some sleep, you wake up, feeling as if you're a different person, just with the same memories. Your convictions change, your attitude changes, and suddenly you realize that guy you were before you ate that acid/mushroom was you, and now hes gone. This doesn't at all mean you will be a bad person or mental, or anything negative - albeit possible - its like... well its like aging real fast. If you pay attention right now you can see how much different you were just a few years back. You think differently now than back then. Act differently. Even walk differently. So right now I have three problems to think about during this super-trip.
1. I don't know how a corpse is going to come into play in my soon to come trip. 2. The entire atmosphere is going to be ineffective to the acid, leaving me to stick out as the only fidgety, wide eyed, emotionally passive pallbearer in the whole procession. And 3. If I do have a severe shift, who will I be when I wake up? I have a job and a wife. They will be the first to notice. It may be severe, and everyone I know will have to reassess their relationship with the new me. And I'll have to do the same with them. God I hope it doesn't happen, or at least if it does, I hope its not too destructive to the life I've built.

At 4pm I get dropped off in front of the funeral home. I can sense those first eery acid vibrations going through my skin. My stomach feels light, but my mind is still in control. I open one of the expensive looking double doors and am blasted with cold air and the heavy smell of perfume and cologne. It makes me a bit queasy, but not enough to bother me. Just inside the door stands a podium with a guest list atop it, open and covered with many signatures. I pick up a pen and sign my name.
When I put the pen down I sense a slight feeling of electricity on my back. It moves quickly across my shoulders, the back of my head and stops at my feet. As I turn there is a man standing behind me waiting to sign the list...he's staring at my feet. Oh my god, I can actually feel these peoples eyes. Every time a part of my body crosses into the center of someones field of vision I can feel it. It now hurts to look someone in the eyes, like a headache. Strange things can happen to a persons cognitive senses when on a hallucinogen. People have been known to communicate telepathically on LSD. I've done it. Perhaps this is why our military studied it so rigorously.
In the funeral chamber there are many people trading hugs and condolences and speaking in almost whispered tones as if not to disturb the corpses rest. "The lords passing" is being played on a small stereo, its non lyrical composition softly perpetuating the already morbid event. My mind begins to lose a little traction and I begin to worry if theres something I'm supposed to be doing right now that I can't make myself remember. I drop my head and begin to search my mind frantically, slowly building an oppressed feeling of panic. Then the most horrid sound pierces the calm air like a chain saw through flesh. Loud and uncontrollable bawling from the woman next to the open casket. At the same time that I look in the direction of the sound, I get a glimpse of grey folded hands and a forehead. The womans cries of sadness worked in unison with what I couldn't take my eyes off of. Goddamn what am I doing here? I should leave right fucking now. But no. My instinct tells me to console the lady because I know her as the bodies mother. I walk toward her and the coffin, but just as I get there, several people crowd her, offering their handkerchiefs and support.
There I am, left right next to this empty shell of a human being lying very still in the corner of my eye. I look before I can think. Oh my fucking god. There he is. Russell Ring. There was still a small, visible gap along his hairline where his skull-cap was removed in the autopsy. I heard someone mention how peaceful he looked. Shit, he looked mighty dead to me. There was no color except for the obvious make-up on his face. My skin began to feel clammy and my mind began to get some static. This acid was beginning to kick in and I would likely peak within the next hour. Hurry this god damned service up!

Two hours later and I have the attention of a few people sitting near me. My head was jerking left and right, looking wide eyed and worried as if there were snipers amongst the people out to kill me. Really I just couldn't steady my mind on anything and I was beginning to get the fear.
Just as I stood up to leave everyone else stood up at the same time. I froze. It felt as if I had lifted everyone out of their chairs with one simple motion. I stood paralyzed, thinking something was wrong. Then I heard "let us bow our heads in prayer."
I was blocked on either side by people standing with their heads bowed, and I wasn't about to try to stumble and climb around them and escape. So I waited, and the next words out of the pastors mouth were "Will the pallbearers please come to the front." NOOOO!! NOT NOW! This can't be happening right now. Random men step from the audience and go toward the casket, and I stumble and climb around everyone on my aisle, inadvertently going in the direction that had about fifteen people to squeeze past. The other direction had only three. I get in line just like the other guys on either side of the box and wrap my clammy hand around the polished brass carrying bar along its left side.
There were only four of us, one on each corner. As we got the pastors ok, the doors next to the casket opened and outside sat a black hearst, still running. We all picked up on a corner and walked forward in perfect synchronization...until my hand slipped. The back left corner dropped to the ground and out flew Russell, right into the floor face down. The skull-cap popped off and sort of rolled across the floor settling under a chair, making people scream and jump out of the way. The cold, jelly like brain bounced around a bit and stopped next to my foot, cerebrum side up. My own brain is now flaring with shapes and sounds and unexplainable terror. I instinctively tap the organ with the side of my shoe, sending it bouncing up against his mothers purse which was sitting at her feet. Then a moment of clarity hits me. Nows your chance. Everyone will think the accident being as it was, was just too much for you emotionally so you ran out the door and disappeared. And thats exactly what I did. Then I ended up wandering onto the interstate. I got clipped by a Saturn and landed on my back to be finished off by nine big tractor trailer tires. Now I'm dead too.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
The Joekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130956 - 07/05/07 03:00 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

The Beast


The T-bird roared clean as I swept down I-65 at 120+. Exits flew by like blurs of brick and the Alabama state-troopers grey and blue Crown vics turned to into much less intimidating specks in my rear view mirror. Traffic was light for a respective 7 a.m. rush. I had no time for chat or coffee, much less any for handcuffs and rear seats. I shifted down at the sight of a school bus and made a safe 120 mph pass in the right lane. Maybe the children ducked in panic as my 428 screamed in their tiny square windows, I'll never know. No time to find out. Time was life and I had little to spare. I hit sixth gear again and once more the car pushed me into my seat as the front end lightened under the power of the eight lug rear end. The motor mounts shook the entire front seat like an angry gorilla, but I expertly held the wheel and passed everyone before me. Were they going in reverse? Could this car truly be doing 166 mph and steadily climbing? I could hear the wind tearing at the sharp edges of the Thunderbird's body. Not very aerodynamic, but the noise makes your everyday passerby pull over in awe and respect. Pounding asphalt and raging war on the senses, this beast cannot be stopped.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
The Joekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130969 - 07/05/07 03:04 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

I Digress


I can remember back when the world seemed like a promising place. Wasn't that long ago actually, somewhere between the ages of 6 and 16 in many peoples lives. We were so young and disillusioned about where our place in society would be. Scientist, astronaut, evil villain bent on dominating the universe. Whatever you planned was over before it started. They didn't tell us that lower class americans were here to carry the upper class on our shoulders. Classless society? HAH! I laugh at anyone who would consider that the modern norm for this great nation. We are nothing if not a society of strictly segregated classes. Now the world doesn't seem so promising.

* * *

When I pulled into the small gas station I saw no movement, except for the standard ambiance of things like windblown dust or birds in the distance. I hopped off the back of my near dead Harley. A machine for the man with the money to keep it running. Not me. I walked slowly to the wooden screen door, removing my gloves on the way. I pulled on the small metal loop, held loosely by two screws, that protruded from the door. It didn't open. I heard steps growing closer from within the building. SLAM! - the door flung open revealing a gap toothed, lazy eyed redneck. He looked strangely hungry as his good eye burned me in a scrutinizing sweep of my body. Obviously this creature had not seen such a shapely woman in many a year, but there I stood. Sexy, slim and big bosomed. My nipples protruded from the front of my leathers like pencil erasers atop half dollars. My crotch itched so I dug at it distastefully in the hopes he would be revolted. When I saw movement in his coveralls I knew I had made a wrong move. His grin grew from hairline to hairline. He grunted a sound and motioned for me to come in. I looked around nervously and then conceded. Fuck it, I've put nastier things in my cunt than this.

* * *

I can member seein' dat purty thang walk inta' my gas station. Dat bitch had da sweetest pussy on the soufeast. I was plowin' my little farm prick deep inta' her luv ditch so hard, she dittin' even hav ta move. She was cummin', I think.

* * *

April 17, 2005 - Man found dead at his trailer park home in Irvington, Alabama. According to many witnesses, the man walked into the middle of the park with an automatic MAC-10 Machine pistol taped to his head. When enough people had come to see what was going on, the man screamed something incomprehensible to them and pointed to a string tied to a pin that held a mechanism which kept the gun from firing. Then to everyones surprise, the man pulled the string and the gun began to fire. Thirty .45 calibre bullets ripped the mans head and face to shreds. No one else was injured. Neighbor Michael Simms, 25, of Grandbay describes the event.
"Well, that guy right there, the one with no head lying on the ground...That was Jared Lee. He was jerkin' and bouncin' all over the place. Mother fucker shot a hole straight through my T.V. Son-of-a-bitch deserved what he got. Am I on live television? FUCK YOU GEORGE W. FUCKING BUSH!! YOU SUCK DONKEY DI -" Thats all we have time for right now, join us when we come back with the weather.

* * *

When I die, I want to be buried naked in the bare earth, just like humans were meant to be. Isn't it sad that as much as we take from our earth, we refuse to return our empty, useless carcasses? I want to be the soil and feed for the plants and animals that gave so many of their lives for me.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
The Joekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130984 - 07/05/07 03:08 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

American Jew


I freeze in awed silence when the reality of our situation unfolds. As I sit here on my knees, arms bound behind me, I stare blankly at the three guys next to me. We're in a neat row. Nazi officers stand behind us speaking the language we never learned. Why should we, we were American citizens. We were never meant to even see a German if we didn't want to. But here we are, at their mercy. One officer cocks the unique action on his 7.62 Luger pistol and puts the barrel an inch from the base of professor Malcolm's head. I want to look away but - BAM! Oh my fucking god, he's dead! He's bleeding like a fucking faucet from that hole in his face! Jesus christ! Panic...fear...BAM! Scott Miller got his in the neck. He gyrated weirdly as blood spurted and gurgled from the nasty smoking wound. He's still alive - BAM! Now he isn't. The guy next to me. I don't know him, but his hair is blond and his eyes are blue. Now, anyone thinking the third Reich saw the mighty race as someone with these features is right, but these officers were not the third Reich, they were indeed Hitlers men, but at this moment, like many in their lives I'm sure, was for the pure lust of murder. The man began to weep and grovel at their - BAM! His head lay on the ground staring at me, his forehead open wide. His last breath was a sob that turned into a horrible sounding groan/whine. He jerked. I didn't know what to think or do. I was numb. I wasn't scared or mad or even slightly bothered. It felt as if my brain was destroyed before the bullet could even get inside - BAM! But that didn't stop it.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
The Joekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7130992 - 07/05/07 03:09 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

A specific kind of writers block

My imagination wobbled unsteadily as I sat in front of the keyboard. I couldn't find a foothold on anything interesting. The irritation grew as my girlfriend constantly called my name. I've smoked three cigarettes and half a bowl of resin. What in the hell does it take? Inspiration must come at a cost, one I would gladly pay if only I knew what the fuck it was. She's talking to me again. Goddamnit. I can't concentrate with her changing the volume of the television repeatedly like that. SHE WON"T SHUT UP!! ARRGGGHHHHH!!! If only I could get her to care a little bit about what I do. But she won't...she won't... ... ...ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
The Joekenorer
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Registered: 05/22/07
Posts: 626
Loc: Pensacola, FL.
Last seen: 1 year, 8 months
Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7131023 - 07/05/07 03:18 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

My evolution


The early memories come sparingly. Usually stamped with some kind of strange emotion. I remember hiding on the far side of a bed, while my mother and sister sifted through a large cloth bag full of paper sewing patterns. I tried to whistle and snap my fingers, but not for attention, I just wanted to learn. I practiced. Even earlier, I remember peeking around the corner of that old, red house that my father built. I listened closely to hear for footsteps and where they were inside. I glanced around the other corner facing the back yard. No one was there. I walked gingerly through the grass, cooled by the shade of the west poised wall. There, I stood still and pushed until I felt the weight tug on the sides of my cloth diaper. A quiet grunt. I looked over and saw the doorway that had no door. There stood my great grandfather Wallace, walker in hand. I don’t know if he could tell what I was doing, but I could. The guilt made me flee across the yard to the sticker plant infested area right under the young oaks. My feet pained at the tiny red barbs. Those are my two earliest memories. Perhaps a good place to start would be somewhere I can remember best.
I sat in the hallway of St. Elmo elementary in a nice formal line with the rest of the children who rode on my bus. It was time to go home, but we had to wait until we were called out. Over to my right was a younger boy. Not much younger, a grade below me. Kindergarten. I got bored and began to act up a bit, walking on all fours and bucking like a horse, making mock horse noises. The boy laughed at me. That was intriguing, until then no one had laughed at me and my childish antics. I played the fool a little longer to get more reaction from him. He could hardly contain himself. I crawled over and sat next to him. He spoke.
“Do you like getting in trouble?”
“Sure do. I love it!” I looked around, making sure no safety patrol caught me out of my group. “What’s your name?” I asked. I was not used to talking to strange people. Not even in my class. They all seemed to ignore me there. I was happy with it like that though.
“I’m James”
“Do you ride my bus?”
“I don’t know. I think so”
“I’m in first grade. My name’s Mike” That friendship has lasted to this day. Its funny, that’s all I can accurately remember about those times. I recall spending all the following morning and afternoon bus rides next to James. I found myself just as entertained by him as he was with me. We laughed at each others behavior and ill informed dirty jokes. We fed off of each others spectatorship, acting out and misbehaving until just at the edge of the bus drivers nerves on a daily basis. We matured a bit as each year passed. We once started our own line of comic strips, working diligently each morning on them and exchanging them with eachother on the bus ride home. We both had our own characters, but that alone is a story.

My first year at Grandbay middle/high school was kind of scary. James wasn’t there. We had lockers and combinations and had to carry lots of books with us. For the entire first year I didn’t use the locker because I didn’t know how to operate a combination lock. I was in gym class one day, the middle of 7th grade. I sat on the bottom of the bleachers watching the more athletic kids play basketball. I hated gym because I was required to change clothes. I never played with the other kids, I couldn’t see why I was required to wear shorts. A few steps up on the bleachers there was a kind of round kid, curly hair with thick framed glasses. A misthrown basketball landed right between us, nearly plowing me in the face. The fat kid pulled his legs up fast as I ducked down low. He picked up the ball and tossed it back to the gym floor.
“Gotta’ watch out for the basketballs” He said, laughing a bit.
“Yeah. Almost hit me in the head.” He came down and sat next to me on the thickly painted yellow bleacher bench. I remember nothing more of that meeting, except that somewhere along the line I caught his name. Jeremy. A very nerdish boy, who shared a lot of my adolescent interests. Computers, military, British comedy and some sci-fi. Through him I met some other kids who didn’t meet the social norm required by the vast majority of students. Josh, Chris, Charles and a few others I can’t immediately recall the names of. It was some time before I discovered they were all part of a special class for slightly mentally challenged youth. Somehow I connected with them. I could tell they each had some small portion of mental disorder, but it wasn’t bad enough that they were kept from general school population. Besides their special class, they spent breakfast, lunch and gym amongst everyone else. Very quickly the stresses of fitting in with the rest of the school dwindled as I created a niche with these boys, and just as quickly I noticed the other kids were looking at me like I was strange for hanging out with the rejects. This stirred something in me. A sort of obligation to defend my new friends. I began to act rebellious against the ‘norms’, as I began to call them. I wasn’t normal, and didn’t want to be. Pride swelled up in my new designation and I became eccentric. I wore strange, homemade jewelry around my neck and procured an old military, olive drab trench coat. I tore the sleeves off leaving two uneven, ragged holes.
I spoke to no one outside my group, except in gibberish and growls. I began to scream random, often disturbing, things in the hallways between class changes. The more norms pulled away, often in fear, the more it fed my desire to be different and eccentric. Some teachers even avoided me completely. I was very involved with my weirdness. It was an art. I learned certain German phrases to shout at certain people. I studied philosophy deeply and my vocabulary grew vast and distinct. The rednecks would no longer even try to speak to me, because I would baffle them with some ancient riddle or ridicule them in a string of words they could never even hope to spell. I would perch like a gargoyle on the benches in the breeze way between the cafeteria and the office, mumbling to myself with my head held low, just to see the reactions of the norms who dared stray too close. That’s what it had developed into over time. A study of people and how they reacted to certain situations. A scream, or someone running wide eyed in the opposite direction, would make my day. ‘You’re a fucking freak’ they would say, regularly. A freak. Yes. After some time I designated myself with that title. A freak...the freak.
The disturbed kids I hung out with were always willing to join in my antics, emulating me and even creating their own freakish stunts. They grew into many, and not only special kids. Even healthy minded kids who just couldn’t fit the norm gravitated towards me. Nerds, geeks, losers. They all came. We had the lengths of two entire lunch tables occupied by ‘freaks’, with one empty table separating us from the norms. At my side was Jeremy, who was always glad to have a hand in anything we did, and Charles J. who was extraordinarily talented at creating clothing and items at home that would terrorize the norms and entertain the rest of us everyday. This was the beginning of a terribly strange life-style that would eventually shape me into who I am today. The Joekenorer.


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My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7131086 - 07/05/07 03:34 AM (16 years, 8 months ago)

I have more, but this is all I had on my computer. The rest are on paper. I'll transfer them here soon. Until then, release that pent up energy, use the written word. The human language is such a wonderfully complex tool. Lets fucking WRITE, goddamnit!


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critique others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7153078 - 07/09/07 07:30 PM (16 years, 8 months ago)

Writing can be a wonderful vehicle for the soul/mind...you have a lot to say...I enjoy writing too...I've written short stories and one novel but it needs a lot of working over yet.

As you mature...so will your style....keep up the effort...it bears fruit like mushroom casings! lol

I like when you add in dialogue. It makes the characters more "real"
:smile:
MIC


--------------------

My inner child runs with scissors but plays nicely with others!

Sometimes the light's all shine'in on me,
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me,
What a looong strange trip it's been! ~ Truck'in

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Invisiblelavod
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7162545 - 07/11/07 07:11 PM (16 years, 8 months ago)

93
Providing homage to Ernest Hemingway, I give you my contribution under the guise of a mystery:

Baby found dead. Asphyxiated. Dildo nearby.

93 93/93


--------------------

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: lavod]
    #7273178 - 08/08/07 04:03 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

Fire Trial


I was hypnotized by the flames as they licked the roof of the living room, charring and cracking the white coat of paint I had just applied two months before. The curtains seemed to move like living creatures, embers falling from their thin material onto the carpet. What was I going to do when it was my turn to be decimated by this building inferno? Would my screams be the crescendo to the roaring fire, or would I lose my nerve and dive out of a window at the last moment? I began to imagine the Tibetan monks again as they sat in the street burning alive those years ago. They were so calm. In such deep meditation that they did not move until they were burnt, lifeless husks. Could I really hope to attain that state of nirvana? I pushed the images out of my mind and began to silently chant my sacred mantra. I would not fail.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7273179 - 08/08/07 04:09 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

My hangups


I have sat in the tall pines of humid, negative temperature North Alabama winters. I have worked the wide open coal-yards of one hundred plus degree South Alabama summers. I have stood before masses in paralyzing humiliation and failed an attempt at self-annihilation in the deepest hole of depression. I have cried into my own sweaty palms night after soul-wrenchingly stressful night. A person who has survived such misery and personal torture (and there are many who have) should have something enlightening to tell the world...but I don%u2019t. What could I possibly have brought from these experiences to share, except to say %u2018avoid them at all costs%u2019. I now have a wife and two children. Concern for their well being is all I can muster. Where is all the greatness people say erupts in you when you have such precious things to care for? Why am I not a great and wonderful person now? Why am I not inspired to do amazing things with my life? I am left to beg people for labor jobs that they won%u2019t even hire me to do. Today I felt tears well up in my eyes while my wife cursed me for not caring about the family and not wanting to work. How could she possibly think such? I fought those tears throughout the entire day. I wish I could open my mind like a book for everyone to read, to understand what I see and think. Maybe someone could tell me what%u2019s wrong with me. Maybe someone would edit my brain and correct all its errors and make it read smooth and effective. But alas, that%u2019s just a dream never to be realized. I am stuck with what I have. I am left alone in this shell to write the novel that is me, hurriedly scribbling away endless pages of thoughts and hopes and experiences that will inevitably mean nothing to anyone that they are intended for. Yet, despite my own setbacks and hang-ups I try. I keep trying and hope it all gets better, as I always have. When I see my two sons eat, laugh and smile I know there is nothing more or less that I can do. I often dream of wealth and comfort, but I know the real happiness is health and family. If I can enable that much, then I know I%u2019m doing to right thing. Greatness and money be damned, I just want my boys to grow up healthy and happy. I can at least be assured that no matter how sad or stressed they may get in their life, I%u2019ll be able to understand and support them. Goddamn it being me is such a horrid task, but for my family it is worth the struggle. I just have to keep trying. Damnit Mike, keep trying. 2/5/2007


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7273190 - 08/08/07 04:25 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

Thats just a couple i came across recently. I've been without internet for a few weeks, so I haven't had the chance to transfer much. Please, PLEASE submit some work. I want to read yours too. Reading is the key to writing, and I have much improvement to do.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7273198 - 08/08/07 04:27 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

Oh, and lavod. I have no idea what the answer to your riddle is, and I gather that I'm doomed to never know. Sorry, friend.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

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InvisibleautomanM
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7273235 - 08/08/07 05:05 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

Quote:

joekenorer said:
American Jew


I freeze in awed silence when the reality of our situation unfolds. As I sit here on my knees, arms bound behind me, I stare blankly at the three guys next to me. We're in a neat row. Nazi officers stand behind us speaking the language we never learned. Why should we, we were American citizens. We were never meant to even see a German if we didn't want to. But here we are, at their mercy. One officer cocks the unique action on his 7.62 Luger pistol and puts the barrel an inch from the base of professor Malcolm's head. I want to look away but - BAM! Oh my fucking god, he's dead! He's bleeding like a fucking faucet from that hole in his face! Jesus christ! Panic...fear...BAM! Scott Miller got his in the neck. He gyrated weirdly as blood spurted and gurgled from the nasty smoking wound. He's still alive - BAM! Now he isn't. The guy next to me. I don't know him, but his hair is blond and his eyes are blue. Now, anyone thinking the third Reich saw the mighty race as someone with these features is right, but these officers were not the third Reich, they were indeed Hitlers men, but at this moment, like many in their lives I'm sure, was for the pure lust of murder. The man began to weep and grovel at their - BAM! His head lay on the ground staring at me, his forehead open wide. His last breath was a sob that turned into a horrible sounding groan/whine. He jerked. I didn't know what to think or do. I was numb. I wasn't scared or mad or even slightly bothered. It felt as if my brain was destroyed before the bullet could even get inside - BAM! But that didn't stop it.




i'll critique this one since it is representative of the others, yet short. i like your writing, but the style is a bit underdeveloped. most of the sentences in every story start the exact same way. either:
noun - verb, or
article - noun - verb.

for examples i will take the first few words from a couple of sentences:
I freeze
We're in
Nazi officers stand
We were
I want

it is the same way with all of your stories, though i chalk it up to starting. even though they all start that way, most of it is corrected by the end of each story.

there are also sentences i bet you dont care for, such as: "We were never meant to even see a German if we didn't want to"

let me offer an alternative:

"Nazi officers stand behind us speaking the language we never learned. Why should we, we were American citizens. We were never meant to even see a German if we didn't want to."

could be something like:

"Behind us, those Nazi bastards speak in a tongue my Philidelphia ears were never meant to understand."

just my 2 cents. i like your writing, though, and would like to see longer stories... maybe 10 - 20 pages.

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Offlinejoekenorer
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: automan]
    #7273267 - 08/08/07 05:36 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

Thanks a ton. I usually start my stories like that because I like the feeling of starting in the middle of something, even though it isn't really there. Maybe that stems from my dislike of opening paragraphs or attempts at familiarizing the reader with what happened up to that point. I'm certainly not knowledgeable with sentence structure or proper literary English in general, so my sentences tend to come out the same way I'm thinking them, with the hopes that the reader will pick up on that and take it in in that manner. I spell well and kinda' feel my way through a sentence. I believe I have developed an OK sense of proper word arrangement, but by no means will I ever pass a high school English exam. I also feel that my ill-educated methods are my personal writing characteristic. But then I'm not sure if its a good thing to stand on because a well educated reader will at times end up confused at my sentences, and thats not what I want. I'm torn between adding a disclaimer stating that my writing is meant to be the way it is, or just learning the right way to do it. I feel so much freer doing it the wrong way. I hate boundaries, and proper writing feels like just that.

Anyway, sorry about the rant. I've had all this writing stored up and noone to judge it but myself. Of course all my friends and family say its great, but they're biased. This is the first time I've actually shown my work to strangers and I'm fucking starving for opinions. Again, thanks.

P.S. You're absolutely right. I hate that sentence passionately, but I kept it in there to sort of represent my struggle as an aspiring writer. I have a keen sense of the intricacies and innuendo meanings in art, but fear my style will be misunderstood and doomed to failure.


--------------------
My favorites are weeping willows, which aren't really weeping at all. They're very wispy, witty and will dance in the breeze with you. Nothing like a tree that wants to dance with you. Although it doesn't like its thin limbs being pulled at all, it absolutely LOVES it when you walk through them, letting them gently slide over your face and shoulders. If you're naked, the willow considers it to be sex. It will orgasm on your mind and you will blow dream chunks into outer space. All very fun until your neighbor sees you.                                    -The Joekenorer

Edited by joekenorer (08/08/07 05:47 AM)

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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7280239 - 08/10/07 01:59 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

The Bringer




It was an ever so slight tingling in his lower back that brought William to his senses. What had happened? He tried to search his mind but it seemed to refuse. An upside-down world met his lazy, opening eyes. Cool air from outside blew into his face and brought with it clarity. He was on the phone when it happened.

"I love you too." William said into his phone. Never had he meant a word so much. They both were silent on the phone for a few moments.

"Goodbye" she said softly. He returned her farewell and hung up the phone. Siloutes of the pine trees zoomed past his rolled down window. Glancing to his left, he saw the full moon smiling down upon him. The words kept ringing in his ears. I love you. He pressed the pedal harder. His celebrating heart and the Rusty harvest moon was enough to distract him from what was waiting for him on the other side of the bend.


It was only a half a second but that was more than enough time to see what stood there on that lonely mountain road. It was the size of a small child standing upright. But that’s where the similarities end. Its eyes and head were far too large for a normal human being. The sight of it was not what shocked him most. It was rather a very short moment that took place before he swerved and crashed on the side of the road. For a very brief moment, they looked into each others eyes and a feeling of deja vu swept over him. As if somewhere in the depths of his mind, he was expecting this.


Going almost eighty, he turned his pickup hard to the left. Before it started rolling he saw one last glimpse at the harvest moon. Then darkness.


Yes, that is how it happened, he thought. The silent world was broken by something walking on the broken glass outside of his car. His slowing mind begged his head to turn and see what he was about to encounter but his beaten body simply remained numb. The footsteps came to a stop right outside his door. Fear gave an attempt at reconnecting his bodily control but failed. It was then the very small hand entered the car and his vision.


When the creatures hand finally met his forehead, he felt a burst of energy and life enter his mind.

“My good fellow, you may rest your eyes. I’m not here to cause any harm.” The voice rang in Williams head. No words were spoken. It seemed to form strait in his mind but the voice… Who’s voice was that? The voice was old, warm and very familiar. As if the creature sensed his quarry, it took a moment of silence.


William let his eyes rest and thought back to that voice. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Professor Wilshire! He had been Williams mentor in college and early life. Professor Wilshire was a rather large man who’s looks could be compared to that of Theodore Roosevelt's. (which was, in fact, the foundation of many jokes) The kind of person who made anyone around them feel like family. He was not just a teacher of school but a helping guide to living a loving life. It was then the next thought came flowing in. Professor Wilshire had died 4 years ago. (5 years ago in another month)


As if on cue with Williams thoughts, the professors voice began again. “Yes and No my dear boy.” he said with a chuckle. “Always were the problem solver, weren’t you?” The professor’s laugh brought a smile across Williams face but whether it could be seen, he was unsure. He then forced his eyes open to see the small creature crouched inside the car with him. It face was gray and it had large black eyes.


Watching William, the creature continued. “But I’m afraid I am not the true Professor. No, indeed I’m not. I’m but the voice of him to help me ease our communications. ” William closed his eyes and felt his heart beating against his chest. “You are the last sign we needed. On this very day, on this highway and at this time. With this comes a new age for your and my people.” William wanted to say this was a dream, but deep inside he knew it to be a false hope.

“Yes William, you are going to die. But do not fear for death is not what it seems. “ Coughing up blood, William felt a slightly different coldness falling on his body. Every frame of thought took longer to take in. Much longer. Where was the voice that came from the darkness?


“-But before you leave this body, you will see. See what this night means.” The creature took his hand away and pulled a rock from his packet. After holding it in its hand’s, the rock began to glow. The creature then took Williams hand and put the rock in it. “Go now, from this world and we will all see each other again. Go and see William.” The voice seemed to grow increasingly distant, as if he was leaving in a boat and people were yelling their last goodbyes from port. “Go and see!”



The stone began melting into his hand and he felt the warmth spread all over his body. It was like slipping into a hot bath and letting it sap all your energy. With it came a quick flash.



He saw the creatures evolving millions of years ago. The first intelligent life on earth. The brains intelligence level reached many times that of modern humans. After surviving existence with each other (The largest hurdle for any intelligent life) they developed extremely advanced technologies. With the coming of Neanderthals and Homo sapiens, all the creatures began a cloaking program to let the primates take their own course in evolution and see if they could survive themselves. They created vast cities in the atmosphere that were where undetectable. Then something went wrong.



They began having trouble reversing the cloaking effects. All the cloaking technologies were destroyed yet they still were stuck in a state of invisibility. It was beyond the understanding of those creatures alive. It was only in the last 100 years that these cloaking effects were fading. It was then found in the code of the ancient technology tablet that on December 12, 2012 on highway 68 in the black forest, the one to die from seeing a creature would undo all the cloaking devices. It would allow them to finally meet humans and begin a new age.

With the vision ending, he finally understood. He took a deep breath and saw her face in front of his. It was the last thing he would ever see again. It was her face looking back at him with an ever so slight grin that did better at helping him let go then a million words would have. He felt himself smiling and this time he was sure it could be seen on his face. With that he felt his chest relax and his mind slowly quite.

And with that William died, soon after the once invisible race revealed itself to the world. It would begin a time of peace. William would be known as Yhe Bringer of the New Age for many thousands of years. Life would blossom for eons in that part of the Milky Way. That is until the Yeeps arrived. But I’m afraid that is another tale.

The End


--------------------
Shroomery Composition Contest

Edited by Toddo (08/10/07 02:43 AM)

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OfflineToddo
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Re: Official 2007 very short story thread. Post yours and critque others HERE [Re: joekenorer]
    #7280245 - 08/10/07 02:05 AM (16 years, 7 months ago)

please be kind. I spent this this evening thinking/writing this up. My grammar is also pretty bad. But anyhow, I was happy I finished it. Had to take a couple breaks to figure things out but it came together, somewhat, in the end.


--------------------
Shroomery Composition Contest

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