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Sunday, May 29, 2011

Aliens!

There I was. Minding. My. Own business. When the. Saucer. Appeared. Over. The plateau. In front. Of me. It spun. Slowly. In the sky. Like was to land. On that rock.
“Cut!  Cut! What is this? Star Trek? Why are you cutting up your sentences like that?”
I just thought it would make it more…sci-fi-ish.
“Well knock it off! I keep thinking you’re having a seizure or something. Continue.”
Anyway, I witnessed the saucer as it let down a ray of light where two figures dropped down onto the plateau.
“Too few, people won’t feel frightened by just two.”
Ok then, ten alien figures dropped…
“Too few.”
Fine! More than I could count appeared…!
“Whoa! Whoa!... Whoa! ‘Too many to count’? We’re trying to entertain people, not make them scared out of their minds about an alien invasion! We’re not doomsday prophets! How about we stick with just two? Go again.”
-sigh- Ok then, only TWO aliens appeared. I was staring in shock and awe unable to believe my eyes as the first one with its green skin began to hover toward me in a flying machine.
“Green? Really? That’s been done again and again, let’s try a more impressive color like… orange! With black stripes! I like that idea!”
Really? We are being invaded by Tigers? Fine… The orange and black creatures hovered over to me…
“Wait!”
What is it now!
-sheepish- “I was just going to comment on your imagery…”
Pause
“It lacks visual aid.”
-face palm- Visual… Aid… Really… It’s a flippin’ story!
“Stories can have pictures.”
Not when I’m telling the story!
-Indignant- “An artist can paint with words!”
Not literally!

Friday, May 27, 2011

Old Man Mercy

Of all the people living in Sunnymay retirement home Old Man Mercy was probably the most bizarre. He was admitted almost 30 years ago by his family who didn’t want him living on his own.
At that time he was 97 years old, now he was 127.
The workers at the home have regarded him as a rumor and have pretty much stayed away from him, except for the usual checkups and food deliveries.
He was nothing short of a strange old man. He spent every waking moment sitting in his chair staring at the wall.
That’s all he ever did and all he will do, at least when people were around.
For the first five years his room was like everyone else’s, a bed, television, a chair, a table and two end tables each with a lamp. He sat in the chair even then.
Once the sixth year came around things started to change.
It would seem without Mercy’s aid, the lamps vanished of the end table one at a time for the next five years. When one was replaced the other vanished. Mercy just sat in his chair.
The caretakers at the home continually questioned him about it but he never spoke a word to them, just scanned them over with his eyes. Eventually the lamps disappeared and no one replaced them.
The next thing to vanish was the television, just the same as the lamps before had done.
He would answer no questions about the television and eventually the room was void of lamps and a television.
Once the lights were gone (save the overhead light which was much too weak to use often) Mercy himself had apparently moved him and his  chair to face the spot on the wall where the television was and directly under the overhanging light.
The end tabled appeared on either side of him and stood like guard towers ready for anything it seemed.
This all took place over a span of 30 years and he was now rumored by the staff to be some above human creature who should be left alone.
Old Man Mercy, man of a thousand mysteries continued to sit in his chair, his bed as untouched as the day he arrived, his voice a locked away as treasure, looking for something…
Which was about to arrive.
On the first day of the 31st year, a young man appeared in the retirement home. He was dressed in evening clothes, with a nice black jacket over a white button-up and a grey vest. He had his hair shining with gel to hold it in place and his brown eyes were darkened beyond human eyes.
Mercy gave no notice to the man when the puppet entered the room and took his place at the blank wall facing the old man.
The overhead light began to flicker on and off at that point, casting a longer than usual shadow behind Mercy. In the moment of complete darkness two candles appeared on both sides of Mercy on the end tables.  One on Mercy’s right side was an all black that had a pure white flame atop it and the one on the left was all white with a black flame a lit on it.
Mercy, for the first time, moved his neck and flexed his cramped muscles which had lost their use so long ago.
Mercy finally had a new body to use.
The young man was in front of him stared at Mercy with his glazed eyes and stood with his back against the wall.
The man had lived for 31 years and in that time had committed several horrible acts such as butchering his family and those he saw fit to murder and got away with every single event.
The wall began to breathe inward and pulled the man to it wrapping bits of plaster around the arms and legs of the new vassal.
The man woke up at that time and began to fight the wall but to no avail, all the while screaming at Mercy to help.
The old man raised his frail arms to the candles and chanted a few words over and over using the old vocal cords that had little use in the past. The hoarse chants echoed in the room till the whole ritual was through.
Now the young man was lying in Mercy’s bed with his life slowly draining away screaming at the nurses and doctors who rushed in that he wasn’t dying, he was too young.
In the meantime, Mercy was walking down the street in his new evening clothes and began his new life as a 31 year old man with the world before him.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Announcement of The Life of A Spy...

I have made a new blog for the Blog Story The Life of A Spy that you can find through my profile or by clicking the link:

http://rogercasadenspy.blogspot.com/

I will have Chapter two up soon on that blog so if you enjoyed chapter one then you should definitely follow that blog as the entire book blog will be there in the coming weeks.

That's about it for this announcement,
I would like to thank you for reading this and hope you check out Cairo's life as a spy.

-Roger

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Trill of Battle

Larc understood his place in this battle.
He knew this would happen all his life, though not so quickly.
His father had always told him that one day Larc would be in the war council. What he wasn't told was that he would rise to his position by the age of 16.
As Larc stared out at the rolling grasslands of the battlefield he recited the motto of their army.
To fight for his country, and kill who opposes them.
Each soldier, even Larc who didn't agree with it, understood it and was willing to follow it at any cost.
For some time now they had been at war with the neighboring countries under the flag of "keeping the peace". Larc voted against the use of force but the council ignored him, mostly for his age.
The enemy nations criticized Larc's nation as "oppressive" and as such the King declared war to put down the enemy.
The King assembled a massive army of 10000 soldiers and had them stand to fight this battle.
Larc was on the front line with his commander with the breath of the soldiers heating the air around Larc to a near unbearable degree.
It was time. The enemy army had shown up and now the two forces were ready to engage in the pointless war.
Larc heard the commander's horn and instantly drew his blade and raised his shield.
The battle was starting, and Larc knew that none of them were going to win...

Friday, May 20, 2011

The End of A Battle

The fire blocked out all escape. The fields were screaming and the ground belched smoke all around me.
I covered my eyes and my sword began to burn the palm of my hand.
Suddenly, the fire parted and let the most awe-inspiring moment in my life.
Absolute fear took hold of me as the horse dove through the fire with its shielded head bowed down low first entering the clearing. The horse held the power of a mythical beast as it's hid powerful chest shuddered with the graceful impact of its hooves gently trampled the ground. It sprinted through the inferno under the authority of a magnificent rider.
Wearing dark mail under the king's crest, he rode with one hand on the beast and the other holding man's bloodied paint brush. The rider kept his eyes on me through the slits in his long faced helmet, intent on putting me out of my misery.
Before he was on me I prayed to my god that this wasn't an ordinary man, but a messenger of death come to bring me free of this war and senseless destruction.
The angel now was here and in one swift, passing strike I fell to the heated ground below and experienced pure darkness which I welcomed openly.

A Short Haiku of Her...

Her smile was of sunlight
Her kiss was of a sweet breeze
Her heart was that pure

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Last Leap

The cold wind slapped and grabbed at his cheeks as if warning him.
The boy was scared, no denying it, but he felt it was the only way.
Opposing the calls and cries of the frightened onlookers, he leaned forward and let his body play at the mercy of the wind.
Quickly the bridge above him receded as the water below grew closer.
He was crying, his tears leaving a trail that plundged after him.
He flashed though his memories.
The feelings that drove to commit his final act welled up and time slowed down.
He was alone, a fact he blamed on himself.
How his cries for help fallen on deaf and uncaring ears!
All his life he was searching for someone, anyone...
Who was a friend. But no one came.
His mind took him to his parents divorce and all the isolation he felt without his father.
He remembered watching clasmates and kids palying with their mothers and fathers. An act he never enjoyed.
The air filled his ears and seemed to whisper to him, inciting more memories.
A girl filled his mind.
He saw her as clear as if she was there with him.
He felt he loved her. But was scared that she wouldn't return the affection.
The wind told this, "You don't know that because you never tried tried to find out."
He cried harder, the infinite oceans spilling over his cheeks and ears.
He saw his family and what happy times they gave him.
He saw himself opening presents from a time long ago with friends he once had.
Then it hit him.
What a terrible mistake he had made!
The mind of the wind brushed over him and gave him all the answers.
The girl did like him, he just refused to believe it with the cause of 
He felt anger at his actions. All his pain was self-inflicted.
He realized he never even tried. Not once.
Now it was too late.
The air switched around him signaling the end of the fall.
His last thought was that he had a happy life that he expected too much from.
He hoped that he had helped someone during his life at least once. Even a little.
The petrified spectators watched in horror as the boy's last moments became his calmest ever.
The boy's pain had been healed by his last thoughts...
Not his death.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Life of a Spy Chapter One

“Once you are chosen, there is no way to be ‘un-chosen’”

“So this is the shell?” I asked eyeing my clone suspiciously. It was a very good copy with the hair parted the same way his is naturally, the nose and mouth shaped the same but there was no real light in the eyes.

“Yes, it is. The plan is that this will enter your home tonight and make itself known to your family as you. At a predetermined time int he night this clone will unexpected "pass away" making your family believing it to be you.” The man said almost in admiration.

I nodded. “Then I can undergo the training?”

The man nodded and chuckled replying, “You almost sound eager. Many fear the training years. We aren’t bound by more ‘common’ laws'.”

“Why would I fear it, it’s not like my life was anything to miss.”

“We’ll see…” The man said as he walked away. Before he left the room he whispered something to the guard at the door. The guard nodded and the man left.

So the plan was in motion.

The following morning the clone passed away and caused my parents to do exactly what was expected of them. After discovering the clone's demise they contacted medical attention and before long would be on their way to hospital.

There was a fake doctor in position that would give them the news about what had happened and that there was nothing they could do to save me.

I smiled and giggled a bit from across the street hidden by my old neighbor’s bushes, then I cursed myself for acting so childish, but I could not help it. I entertained the thought of this being a practical joke that a normal child would come up with. I would pop out of nowhere and yell surprise! and we would have a good laugh.

I knew all too well that this was not a game or a trick.

The ambulance left soon after and I knew my parents were gone as well, probably one was with my body and the other racing for my siblings.

I sprinted across the street and climbed the few stones steps up to the door and entered my old home, one that once welcomed me in with open arms.

Now I felt like a stranger intruding in someone else’s home.

I crept up the stairs, past the framed eyes and painted smiles, ones that watched me as I ascended up those steps I had so many memories of.

Once at the top I took a peek into the rooms, taking my last good looks at them.
My parents room, my brother’s, my sister’s they were all the same.

But the air was becoming heavier and more suffocating. I felt as if I would panic if I stayed in this house too much longer.

I now turned to my door, the one at the end of the endless hallway.

The carpet slid under my shoes as if unwilling to let me progress to my old room, until I gripped the biting knob of my door and entered the dark room, smaller than I remember.
I had a reason to be there, and I was not going to let my growing panic keep me from achieving it.

Sitting on my bed was a briefcase and inside that briefcase I knew housed the reason I came. My journals from the moment I could write were inside of it, and I could not leave that behind.


-~-