Since there are too many excellent works this time round, I've had no choice but to turn in something really bad. I hope to hit the spot where it's bad enough to actually be good.
Also, if your eyes start bleeding after reading this, please seek medical attention.
Spoiler for =):
The Most Difficult Decisions
"Hey you! You seem to be enjoying yourself, eh?" shouted the twintailed girl in the mecha suit.
Arata had been caught in an extremely compromising position. Indeed it appeared to be an enviable situation, for he was somehow lying on the floor, with the class representative pressed on top of him. And she was dressed only in a bathrobe. But appearances deceived, for Arata's mind was in great conflict.
Really, he was now considering a difficult question. It was a weighty decision, something that he had been unable to resolve for the longest of times. "How can I possibly choose?" he thought. "Was it all a mistake?"
Everything began two years ago.
~~~
Meh, here's another one, the devil thought. Then he sighed a sulfurous sigh. The boy didn't look all that smart- quite the opposite actually- and would probably not prove much of a challenge to manipulate. But then again, the fun didn't lie in the mind games, but in the twisting of consciences.
Yes, offer them the chance to buy their heart's desire with a moment's sin, and watch them squirm and wrangle with themselves for the rest of their lives. A moment of pleasure for the buyer, a lifetime of entertainment for the seller. Better yet if the incentive was only marginally more attractive than the cost; then they would justify to themselves that their choice was not wrong, and yet never quite succeed to erase their doubt.
"What do you desire?" the devil asked Arata.
"C-can you truly grant my wishes? Truly?" said the teenager, with both hesitance and eagerness in his voice.
"Everything is possible, if you do but pay the price. A small tithe is all I requ-"
"OK! I ACCEPT!"
And to the fiend's surprise, the foul deal was forged in a fantastically fast record of 30 seconds.
~~~
What an idiot, the devil thought. What an absolute fool, agreeing even before the contract was set! How much easier could the job be? Still, the details remained, but what were details to devils?
The devil studied the teenager carefully with unearthly vision. Besides being inadequate in the mental department, he was also utterly unremarkable in every other aspect; looks, athletic ability, social skills, family background, special talents, all average or below average. He was indecisive and spineless too. What an interesting specimen, if only because he was uninteresting to the extreme!
Epic fail, in mortal words. No wonder he agreed so readily.
The devil then pondered over the choice of sins to force Arata to commit. Murder was of course always popular, except that those stories always ended so soon. The old ones had such brutal tastes, always about violent delights and violent ends. He preferred finer courses; it had to be something more subtle. Perhaps the crimes of the heart? Fitting, for this one so unacquainted with such affairs.
And so the words were etched onto the invisible contract.
~~~
"Now, state your one true desire."
There was a pause. "L-love." Arata said hesitantly.
A small grin appeared on the devil's face. What a small desire, and ironically one that would ultimately be shattered by the weight of sin.
"Very well, it will be s-"
"Wait, no! She must be cute!"
"Urg. Ok, it wil-"
"No, cute will wear out! She must be sexy! Yes, she must be sexy!"
"Ok, then -"
"Hmm wait a minute- looks aren't everything! It's better if I know her well already- so let her be a childhood friend?!"
"Is that your final -"
"Now that I think of it, that's not so important. But I would like intelligent girls, honor student perhaps? Good at sports and studies..."
And he went back and forth for ten hours, constantly changing his fickle mind, weaving from twintailed childhood friends to mysterious esper transfer students to shy librarian girls to outgoing class representatives. This was quite exasperating for the devil, who was bound by mystic forces to listen to this endless babble.
"Why don't you just get a cat." the devil uttered in annoyance.
"... A cat is fine too..."
~~~
At end of thirty hours Arata had yet to come to a decision. Yes, not even one single decision. Instead the list of "true" desires he considered increased limitlessly; "I should be an ace pilot in a mecha academy", "A student trying to become a movie director", "Student council vice-president", "A ronin working as the manager of a girls dormitory", "A magical-zombie-boy", "A teacher at a magic academy", "God of gaming". Nevermind the fact that many of these desires could not be fulfilled without seriously warping the fabric of reality (quite beyond the devil's powers); it was the sheer fact that these wishes were the most ridiculous SERIOUS requests he had heard! And many of them contradicted with each other!
The nonsense barrage kept coming in- where, where did he get those ideas!?!?!
~~~
With superhuman endurance he lasted one week. No, not Arata, but the devil. At that juncture all he wanted to jam his horned head repeatedly into the nearest wall. But unfortunately all the nearby walls had already been destroyed. He could not hold out any longer...
"OK, OK! YOU WIN! I'LL GRANT YOU THOSE, OR WHATEVER SUBSET THAT DOESN'T BREAK REALITY! JUST GET LOST... I can't take it anymore...."
~~~
Back to the present, Arata was struggling with inner conflict, oblivious to the dangerous situation around him. But his inner thoughts were loud and clear.
"Childhood friend or class representative? Twintails or hime cut? Flat chest or D cup? TSUNDERE OR GENKI GIRL? CUTE OR SEXY? CAT UNDERWEAR OR... OR.... NOTHING? I am in despair! I am truly in despair! Hahahahaha!"
His mad laughter echoed throughout the room.
"...F-Flat c-chest!? CAT UNDERWEAR? DIE, YOU PERVERT!", screamed the girl as she used a shining punch to propel Arata upwards, through the wall, then the ceiling, and finally into the sky...
"I finally understand... I finally understand! The most difficult of decisions are those between a good and another good. HAHAHAHAHA...."
The sound of his laughter continued to be heard as he spiraled through the atmosphere.
Reading the first sentence you presented a personal turn off of mine ... the word MECHA.
Thankfully I didn't zone out right there!
I'm really glad you wrote something with an amusing side to it mainly, since I like to read funny stories like that myself anyway. I'm not a big fan of these harem wusses, so the parody you threw in was well received. I really liked the devil That I happened to have the song "devil on my shoulder" playing in my headphones when I read it added comedy on my part.
The comedy in the framework didn't hit home as much as the main part with the devil for me, but I smiled at realizing he'll be stuck in an endless limbo of moe if he doesn't settle for a scenario
Quote:
Originally Posted by felix
Emperor of One
Origins, File 10
[...]
Just like with papermario's "*pant*" I don't like the inserts like "(sarcastic)". I'm traditional like that, I guess It's a matter of style but it personally always breaks the fourth wall for me so I don't like it unless it's a script for a play or something.
If "sight" is meant as sighing and not looking, it has to be either "sigh" or "sighs", I think.
Other than that I like how you continue the story, but! I don't like how long the first historical part is. Again it's my personal preference, but the chapter kind of read like another introduction instead of a continuation. I felt like the chapter ended where it truly began. I personally waited for the plot and characters to get on, but it ended right when it seemed like I'd get that. It was fine like that in the previous chapter, but this time I felt dissatisfied by it.
However, I still like the details and the way you decribe the world. I saw some scenes very vividly in my mind, so I enjoyed it. I'm just one of these people that need plot and characters first before I get interested in the world they play around in.
Totally unrelated, but I had to chuckle about that you named the librarian Isolde XD An old friend of my late grandmother was named like that. It's a rather old fashioned name, but I kind of like the contrast it creates with the futuristic setting on second thought. Specially since I mostly hear the name in context of medieval stuff. Might be totally unintentional, but it has that effect to my german ears
Quote:
Originally Posted by Asuras
Spoiler for The Button:
The Button
I’m not a murderer…
…Right?
This dungeon of a room petrified the very last essence of my being, like the pressure deep in an oceans trench pushing upon my skin. Stone still with the thoughts God must have felt every second of his existence. I cannot go further before my mind decides the fate of a thousand souls. No inch towards or away from this switch of death- this press of history.
I have my own family; a wife and a single child. A young boy at the age of seven. My life is serene with little care. I love them to no end, and the thought of them being gone is enough to drown myself in death. I have nothing else. As do my subjects.
I rule over my kingdom now upon an overseeing tower. Though I see them not, their feelings waft to my eyes, ears, and nose. I taste their sadness, their memories, and their life. It is putrid. I weep.
My life has been normal. My pay is sufficient, and my activities are standard if not boorish. This job has presented little but long nights of coffee and music.
Or rather, it hadn’t done much to me. But now, the instant wave of sorrow has been cast, changing the feeling of my own age upwards fifty years. I am an old man now for this moment. Hollow and deprived of life. If this decision isn’t the right one, I shall forever remain decrepit. Forever disgraced. Forever dead.
My moment is crucial not to myself, but the ultimate decider of man. I am God right now, the owner of a thousand breathing toys of which my decision is law. I am the manifestation of the sun and the bringer of the maelstrom. But I cannot choose such a side or otherwise.
I am cold and barren. Sweat drips down my face as the evidence of the world’s tears. Mother Earth cries to me through my senses. She begs for mercy, for solace. A beautiful woman, praying to me, God, not to be so horrifically raped. I can only stare back, unsure of my own decision, for I hold both the sympathy of a man and the wrath of a nation. Which shall prevail?
I am also a letter, a reddened parcel of paper with the inscribed statements of doom. My reading foretells of a nature turning strong men to pitiful weeping. I can cripple a soldier with a stare and burn a tree with my voice.
I stand here without a movement beyond my hearts incessant pumping. My eyes are fixated on this button, and I cannot press it. I may not press it ever.
I consider the choices. What are the pros and cons? Even with such consideration, the mammoth con screams in my face; death of thousands. It floods my psyche; it drowns out all other thoughts. I am not a murderer, not yet, but I still feel its infection.
I want this moment to end. To reverse time and be in my bed again, sleeping sound without the weight of many souls upon me. I don’t want this anymore.
In my delirium, a simple fact of truth reached the molested expanse of my head.
“It’s either us or them.” It became clear for but a second. Either I lose my country, or they lose theirs. I have my family, and they have theirs. Surely I must take the side of my own interest!
Yet, it’s not as simple as that. Far from simplicity; it is a hindrance. It reminds me that they have their own loves in their life. They have their hopes, their dreams, and their reasons. Who am I to take that away? It seems so unbalanced, that such an unimportant man as me can deliver tempest through the mere press of a button. That I, an uneducated fool could take the aspirations of the fortunate and the intelligible.
This button is somniferous. It puts me to sleep, like an outside force working upon my immune system. It tells my body to shut down, to prevent this bomb of stress from exploding. The only thing keeping me awake is the drum of war inside my ears. This decision is not to be taken lightly. My life rests upon it.
The end of thousands or the end of millions?
My millions.
It is painfully obvious, but the will is still not there. I am without control, as I have separated from this temporal land. It is no longer a question pertaining to such worldly issues. I am in the spiritual realm for now. Dealing the cards and spinning the dice. I laugh in this turmoil, as I consider a game of “eenie-meenie” to be the decider.
As if a childish game could do so much harm.
A voice calls out in this fog; my partner. The second decider in the matter speaks to me with an impatient concern. He seems ready. He has decided to press.
An old conflict and one that's been done often before, but I still like your way of tackling it. The simplifying of just one press of the button - nice metaphor. It's what I liked the most.
Reading today's news: I unearth
your name from the centre of the page,
smothered by other words -
almost a whisper among the noise,
almost an echo floating up an empty stairwell,
drifting, drifting -
Why you? says the news. And answers only
scatter your name in sand,
blasted by someone's else winds of change;
when they scour the floors with empty promises,
when your prayers lie
under someone else's shoes;
as winds swirl in aimless revolutions.
But when the winds stop breathing,
and the news stops screaming,
you will pour your words like sandcastles
for us to remember you by.
And you have left this waste world behind
when no longer
throws you a curse,
when your children are comforted, and
when you are
no longer
drifting.
139 words in total. Not my best. But I thought someone should write some poetry.
Honestly, I liked your previous entry more, but yay poetry! I still liked it, specially the last paragraph. It's really nice how the verses slowly ebb away. Really nice detail.
This time there are more different interpretations that form themselves inside of me, too.
It's cold. I take a deep breath and exhale with all my might. I can see the air escaping my mouth at full speed; it's like smoke. It only takes seconds until it turns into colourless air again.
I hate the cold. And I hate the dark. I hate days like this.
I get up when the sun has yet to rise and I return home when it's already hiding beyond the horizon. The lack of light depresses me. I want to feel the sun on my skin; I miss the warmth filling my body.
The few people on the street look at me funny. Do I look so out of place?
I'm tired, so I trudge forward at a slow pace. Maybe I should take a bath once I get home? But it always takes so long, so I always prefer a quick shower in the end.
I clench my hands into fists – harder and harder - until the knuckles turn white. I let go and stretch them out and then clench them again. I really should have brought gloves today.
I finally arrive at the bridge. Just a little more and I'm home. Maybe I should have some tea once I arrive? But I tend to forget about it until it has steeped for so long that it has turned too bitter to enjoy.
One of the street lights flickers. I stop in front of it and watch it for a bit, wondering if the smoke ascending from my mouth reaches the light bulb up there; even when invisible. The neon light reminds me of my youth, when I roamed the neighbourhood with my classmates. We hit the street lamps until they went off. My lips want to curl into a grin, but they give up half way. I rise my foot and kick the flickering street lamp with all my might. The scream I let out echoes through the nothingness surrounding the bridge.
The light bulb stops flickering. And I stand in the dark.
I feel strangely satisfied, but also like I should scold myself somehow. I'm not a kid anymore, right? Shaking my head, I slowly turn around and want to continue my way. But then I spot him-
A man.
He's standing on the railing of the bridge on the other side. His back is facing me.
It suddenly hits me: he's looking down into the river. He wants to jump.
I stand there in the sole dark spot on the bridge that I created with my attack on the street light; I'm petrified.
A whole torrent of words whirl up inside of me, but none make it out of my mouth. Only the smoke continues to leave me.
I look around, but it's just me and the stranger, no one else in sight. For a split second I wonder if I should just run away, but I'm ashamed of even thinking that 'no one would ever know'.
The man suddenly lifts his head up to the sky and raises his arms as if they were wings.
No.
No.
I can't just watch.
I have to-
I have to-
Someone-
“NO!”
The word finally bursts out my mouth as I run over to his side. I grab the fabric of his coat before giving it a thought.
“Don't do it!”
The man slowly turns his head to look at me. My stomach clenches as I realize that he's about the same age as me. He only raises an eyebrow at me.
“Let go.”
His voice is a lot lower than I would have expected. He is looking at the river again. I follow his gaze. The water looks black and is calmer than I would have thought. I can barely hear its movements.
“But ...”
I stop, but he hasn't interrupted me. I just don't know what to say. 'I understand how you feel'? No, he would just laugh at me.
“Let go. I don't want to jump if that's what you think.”
He faces me again, smiling broadly. I let go of his dark coat, surprised by the gesture.
The man grins, waves and starts to jump- I scream so loud and high pitched my ears ring.
But he didn't jump; he had stopped right before taking off. He looks at me wide eyed, before he starts to break into laughter. He slowly sinks down to the railing into a sitting position, still laughing. He even holds his belly as if he had no care in the world and being shocked by someone wanting to jump off the bridge was the most absurd thing in the world.
I want to shove him down now.
“YOU!” My silence finally ends. I can feel that my face has heated up. “What do you think you're doing?!”
My screaming makes him stop finally. He looks at me surprised.
“I was just standing here, you're the one who approached me.”
“Because I thought you were going to kill yourself, you idiot!” I huff.
“Oh really? So you came to save me then?” He says, obviously amused, and locks eyes with me. I want to wipe the smug grin off his face more than anything.
“So what?! It's what you do when you see someone attempting suicide!”
“Hmm, is that so?” He hums. His eyes aren't leaving me.
I look down at my feet; unable to endure his sharp gaze. I did the right thing, so why is he making fun of me?
“Do you want a pat on the back for being so heroic?” He mocks me.
“Do whatever you want, you lunatic!” I turn to leave.
But he isn't done with me yet:
“Wasn't very heroic to be honest. If I had really wanted to kill myself you'd been too late.”
I jerk to a halt and glance over my shoulder. He's standing again, facing the dark water of the river.
“Way too slow. Once you noticed me you froze up.”
I want to ignore him; to just go home. But I'm rooted to the spot.
“What were you afraid of?” He asks. I hear him chuckle.
“It's normal to be shocked when seeing something like that.”
“Always the same excuse.” The man shakes his head.
I can't help but turn around. I open my mouth, but no words find their way out of it.
“What I'm doing here?” He grins at me from over his shoulder. “Just wondering.”
“About what?” I nearly shout, because I don't want to step any closer.
“If you'd die from such a height. If it'd hurt.”
He has smoke coming out of his mouth, too.
“So you want to die?”
“Sometimes.” He kneels down and starts to drum on the stone railing. There's barely any sound. “At least I wonder about it from time to time.”
“... you should go to a therapist.” I mutter and start to walk away. I’ve had enough.
THUD. He jumped down the railing – onto the bridge.
My kneels feel weak suddenly. I suddenly wish I had just ignored him. I'm afraid; please don't be dangerous! Please be a harmless lunatic! I start to walk faster but he catches up to me immediately.
“I don't need therapy.”
I just want to walk past him, but he doesn't let me.
“It'd be weird to never wonder, don't you think?”
“I never thought about it before!” I shout and look around, but the only person I spot makes sure not to look this way.
“You're lying.” He grins at me again.
Just when I start to think about how I could defend myself, he suddenly walks past me and goes the other way. He stops in front of the turned off street lamp.
“My thirst for life is greater than yours.” He says and kicks the pole with such force the metal starts ringing. The street light flickers two times – then it stays on, illuminating the darkness around the weird man.
He leaves without saying another word. Leaving me in the shine of the street lamps, feeling petrified yet again.
~Final Entry~
1274 words, says the Java thing.
--
I'm kinda unsure about the tenses in this part:
Quote:
Maybe I should have some tea once I arrive? But I tend to forget about it until it has steeped for so long that it has turned too bitter to enjoy.
I first had it in present and simple past, but then I started to think about it (always bad! xD). Any corrections?
The history and background were interesting to read, though I think you can still make it sound more like a textbook. But it's also possible that it's not a textbook, since the contents are only referred to as "trivia". A book title would make things clearer, eg "Historical Perspectives from the Great War" vs "100 Facts from the Past".
Yeah, I had it more technical and methodical initially. To get it within limits I had to trim some things off. I'll give it some time and do a pass on it later when I can take in any errors or miswrites better. Incidentally it's suppose to be a extract from a magazine but I think I may re-phrase it to be something else that makes more sense.
Quote:
Originally Posted by lordshadowisle
Regarding the barriers and the Velocity-Altering technology, I think it's good that you mentioned some obvious ways to subvert the fields and how these methods were unsuccessful, hence warfare regressed to primitive methods. It helps a lot to make the setting believable since the nagging doubts are preempted. Though personally, I don't quite think people will regress to swords and steel; from my own point of view tanks are still viable weapons; no amount of spearmen can possibly destroy a tank! No firepower is okay, we'll just use them as land ironclads, run over any resistance, and if there's another tank we'll duke out with ramming speed.
My history knowhow is a little shady, but as I recall tanks were initially developed as exactly what you describe: armored tractors that could run over defense lines such as barb wire, and trenches, spearheading troupes. They were initially used in WW1 when trench warfare and defensive emplacements were the new way to wage war. Anyway as far as I know, after the initial scare factor they gad died down, people found any idiot could walk to a tank (since they were and still are relatively slow) and just throw a grenade inside it, or gas the occupants or throw fire at the exhaust. The cost to fail ratio is not so good. Anyway, in WW2 when this started to happen what you had was either soldiers near the tanks or relatively early on tanks started to sprout machine guns. You had the usual side ones and the iconic one at top.
Anyway back to the setting at hand. Take the machine guns away and the tanks have their old early WW2 and WW1 short comings, so technically they're not cost effective. But even if there was some way to make them viable, you can be sure I would just write it to appear it's not viable.
My intent with the setting was fairly simple. First, I wanted to make things interesting and accessible. Things flying at mach nine and launching a missile from 100,000km's way is not as interesting as say giant flying robots accelerating to supersonic speeds only to get slowed to normal speeds when entering each others fields and clashing swords midair. Similarly with the skill factor, any idiot could point a gun and push the trigger, I wanted something where you could have the status of a ace and not just the typical green or veteran skill difference. And secondly, I needed something to make the setting have it's own flavor, so yeah I could bring in tanks somehow I just don't want to in a way they are no different then they are now. Personally I'm happy at the moment with the VAT system. It certainly opens up a lot of possible story directions and closes a lot of cliche or boring ones.
Quote:
Originally Posted by zebra
Just like with papermario's "*pant*" I don't like the inserts like "(sarcastic)". I'm traditional like that, I guess It's a matter of style but it personally always breaks the fourth wall for me so I don't like it unless it's a script for a play or something.
Point taken. It's removed now. Though I'll keep things like noises or very subtle gestures; unfortunately they are very short compared to the alternative action tags.
Quote:
Originally Posted by zebra
If "sight" is meant as sighing and not looking, it has to be either "sigh" or "sighs", I think.
Hehe, one of my many common typos. Fix'ed.
Quote:
Originally Posted by zebra
Other than that I like how you continue the story, but! I don't like how long the first historical part is. Again it's my personal preference, but the chapter kind of read like another introduction instead of a continuation. I felt like the chapter ended where it truly began. I personally waited for the plot and characters to get on, but it ended right when it seemed like I'd get that. It was fine like that in the previous chapter, but this time I felt dissatisfied by it.
However, I still like the details and the way you decribe the world. I saw some scenes very vividly in my mind, so I enjoyed it. I'm just one of these people that need plot and characters first before I get interested in the world they play around in.
Yes, however unfortunate, the part had to be told to complete the previous one (ie. the introduction to the world), so I just got it out. Sadly the limits are what they are, as much as I don't like it, so the second part ends up being cut short. Oh well, I'll need to try harder next time; but with the setting complete I can get on with the story with out worrying about throwing random explanations—I'm not a fan of the whole deus ex machina style of story telling where you just throw out information when it's convenient.
Continuing a story from a previous one is a little bit harder then it looks. But even with the bumps I'll just carry on. I guess some things you can't get right until you get it wrong.
Quote:
Originally Posted by zebra
Totally unrelated, but I had to chuckle about that you named the librarian Isolde XD An old friend of my late grandmother was named like that. It's a rather old fashioned name, but I kind of like the contrast it creates with the futuristic setting on second thought. Specially since I mostly hear the name in context of medieval stuff. Might be totally unintentional, but it has that effect to my german ears
It's a very old name indeed. I borrowed the name from the play "Tristan and Isolde." The name means "fair lady" which fits well with the character. I wanted to have a princess like character to rub some good into the main character, since part of feedback I received last time was the main character came out a tad too much of a brat. I've fixed some of this in the re-writes on the old one as well.
I'm kinda unsure about the tenses in this part:I first had it in present and simple past, but then I started to think about it (always bad! xD). Any corrections?
As it is now looks grammatically correct to me, but I'll tack on a side note about how I like the repetition it makes with a previous line.
"I'm just one man, what can I do?" The man was deep in thought, despite his laboured breathing.
"WHAT THE HELL!" he suddenly screamed, as he tore the tender flesh off his knuckles on the nearby steel railing. Spectators on the same sidewalk scurried by, shocked by the sight that unfolded before them.
Many gaze upon the troubled man, yet none stop to ease his pain. They simply keep on walking, dragging the man's last hopes with them.
"Mommy, what is that man doing?"
"Sssh, don't look at him! Come now, just keep walking."
When the screaming subsided, the one man realized that nobody would become wary of his desperate pleas. If only one man would step forth, only one...
Desperation
"You...bloody...cruel...world."
Oh, how differently the one man viewed the world now; it was somewhat ironic. It had only been 3 months ago when he knew true happiness.
~~~~~~~~~
"I-It's a girl! She looks like an angel!" cried the man, as he held the new member of his family. Turning his head to face his beautiful wife, he couldn't be more thankful that they were all together. "I'm the luckiest man alive, you know that?" he had said.
~~~~~~~~~
And the irony of those words had sunk in. He wasn't the luckiest man alive; it was simply a moment of bliss. Bellowing a sick laugh, he slumped down into his own pool of blood, which still flowed freshly from his open wound. At that exact moment, the sirens of an ambulance could be heard; it would only be a few more clicks before the man would be whisked away for treatment and incarceration.
Demolition
"S-Stay back, you bastards!" he cried. Following standard procedure, the medical team did not halt their progression on the one man. There was no choice left for the man.
And in the span of 3 seconds, the trauma team was on the floor. "WE NEED BACKUP! PATIENT IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"
Laughing in a sick tone once again, the one man began to step backwards in a trance. Once he had stepped over the obstructive railing, he held his balance and pointed the firearm at his own temple.
"YOU WANT TO HELP ME NOW?! AFTER I rend the flesh off of my skin, AFTER I lose everything, and AFTER I faced rejection from all who gazed at my situation. After...I lost...everything."
That was when the one man reminisced upon his tragedy, his undoing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm the luckiest man alive, you know that, honey?" and very weakly, she had replied with a smile. No words needed to be uttered, the one man simply cracked a smile back.
Their bliss however, would be quite short-lived. "Congratulations, Mr. Y...w-what? WHAT? Quickly! Charge the defibrillator!"
As the panic spread across the floor, all that could be heard were the doctors and the beeping from the equipment. Another shout, "Raise the charge to 200! CLEAR!" but the whirring of electrodes could not open her eyes. It was over in mere minutes.
There was nothing left; both the giver of life and her offspring had passed on before they could taste life in its entirety.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the metal obstruction, the one man broke into tears. Suddenly, one bold man had stepped up from the ground to approach the man on the railing.
"Please sir, we just want to hel..."
Then, a squeaking noise. Sneakers scrape across the metal as the man falls backwards over the protective barrier.
As he fell, he could see the bold man's eyes on the bridge above; the sincerity in his eyes...
"Somebody did care...thank God."
The dreary echoing of a lost soul resonated upwards towards the people above as he took his last breath.
These are days
when newspapers bury readers in bad news,
when names like yours need
to be unearthed from the wreckage of many other lives –
names which contain nothing but
whispers
hushed, hissed –
floating, drifting.
These are the days of people
asking why why – why you?
When prayers are eaten away by stronger winds;
winds which toss lives like yours onto its tide,
like the crest of a waiting wave.
And it falls to break you on a lonely shore,
with the washed ruins
of a thousand sandcastles,
bullied by the surf.
And there are days, following these
when someone will write your name in the sand;
when, soon, everything will pour away into
the swell, and wretch
you out to sea.
Here no wave disturbs your prayers,
no wind rocks your watery steps.
And here, nothing blossoms but the sky,
as the clouds bear you back
home.
Thanks, everyone; I enjoyed reading all the interesting stories.
Just a warning yet again, you have 3 hours to post your final entry if you haven't done so yet.
So far I have final entries from:
shelter
lordshadowisle
wassupimviet
papermario13689
zebra
felix
AtomicoX
Illusore
The_Seth
...and with that post comes Asuras. We've come full circle; good luck to everyone!
Considering that there are ten entries this time, how many votes should each voter have? I recall that each person had only one vote as there were too few (6 I believe) entries previously.