Friday, 28 June 2013

27th June 2013 - Fragments of Dreams

File:Gyzis Nikolaos - Archangel, study for the Foundation of the Faith - Google Art Project.jpg
Source: Wikimedia Commons
The giant tosses feverishly in her sleep; a powerful virus is snaking through her bloodstream and approaching the agèd brain which controls the massive corpus that lies before me. The neural arcs that form the centre of this wondrous creature are ancient: formed so long ago, that they may as well be carved in stone.

Fitfully, the giant casts an arm out in her sleep, and the chains that tie her to the bed rattle rustily; catching a fistful of her tight-cropped red hair, she wrenches it out; with a bellow of pain, the giant awakes and casts her eyes about fearfully. Nothing moves in the room, and blood trickles slowly down the giant’s temples. Warily, she closes her eyes again and drifts off into a troubled reverie that straddles the gulf between waking and dreams.

26th June 2013 - Madame Dellacarte

File:Bridgman, Frederick Arthur - The Siesta (Afternoon in Dreams).gif
Source: Wikimedia Commons

Nakim sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed; looking back at the supine form snoring lightly on the mattress, he pulled out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lit it. A crescent moon floated serenely in the sky, casting a milky glow over the night-blue of the bedroom; the room was otherwise unlit, and the objects in the room were all cast in the same dark blue, alleviated slightly by the moonlight.

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

25th June 2013 - I probably wouldn't have killed him

It’s not just that I hated him: If I had merely hated him, I probably wouldn’t have killed him. Wait, no; that’s a lie. I would have killed him anyway. But if he hadn’t embarrassed me so badly, I probably wouldn’t have taken such extreme steps with the body. 

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

24th June 2013 - Nos Rêves

File:Le Sueur, Eustache - Songe de saint Bruno - 1645-1648.png
Source: Wikimedia Commons

A quoi sert-il de suivre nos rêves, alors que le monde entier se met à réaliser la même chose ? En fait, je m’avance trop vite ; il faut commencer par se demander « qu’est-ce que c’est, d’avoir un rêve ? » 

C’est une idée floue, difficile à préciser ; commençons avec l’affirmation qu’un rêve est l’état idéal futur de sa vie, l’état où tout a été réalisé et où il ne reste rien à accomplir. On peut imaginer qu’un tel état serait marqué par un bonheur, un sens d’utopie. Bien évidemment, il n’est probablement pas possible d’atteindre un nirvana pareil, mais il faut créer des rêves si grands qu’on ne les perd pas de vue lorsqu’on on les poursuit (d’après Wilde).

Friday, 21 June 2013

21st June 2013 - Fucking Coward

Source: Wikimedia Commons
“And that’s why the intertemporal inconsequentialities of the consumption axiom are,” droned Professor Honda, pausing here for dramatic effect, “rather consequential.” Honda stopped to laugh at his own witty joke, and some knob in the front row tittered politely.

20th June 2013 - Jack & George

File:Death Henry.jpg
Source: Wikimedia Commons

“I love you.” Jack looked into his lover’s eyes, filled with hope, but knowing that he probably wouldn’t get a response.

“Is maith liom bainne.” George spluttered the words weakly, and stared blankly past Jack, gazing into some abyss that was only visible to him.

19th June 2013 - Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains

File:Jacques Réattu - Liberty Traveling the World.jpg
Source: Wikimedia Commons

They can’t hold us. Or so we told ourselves: That was before they held us, a tight vice grip of encircling, banana-chewing gorilla arms squeezing around our waist, hugging our ribs so tight that we thought they would crack; with hot air breathed down the neck, they whispered insane-creepily into our ears, directly onto our cochlea:

“Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.”

18th June 2013 - Gorgeous Blonde & Fat Woman

File:Crystal Palace Saloon.jpg
Source: Wikimedia Commons

Hugh stared at the polished mahogany countertop of the bar, and swirled his whiskey tumbler. The single ice cube inside clinked lightly against the sides of the glass; he took a sip, clenching his teeth and pulling his upper lip backwards to bare his teeth as the whiskey burnt his throat and tongue.

17th June 2013 - Hunt & Capture

Source: Wikimedia Commons

The rain fell in cords. Thunder flashed, followed by a roll of lightning; nature in disarray. Surging clouds of violet black blocked the midday sun, plunging the street into midnight darkness. Cars drove through the raging tempest, wipers on hyper-speed and the light from their headlamps was fractured and disarrayed by the cascading rain, reaching the eyes of pedestrians in a starburst of red, white and yellow. The rain fell on the pavement and road so heavily that it splashed momentarily upwards, forming a crown of clear brilliance before falling back.

New Project

Given that I've been writing sporadically up until now, I have decided to take up a new project in order to impose some discipline on myself. From now on, I will be writing—or at least attempting to write—a one-thousand word short story at least five times per week. I started this project some four days ago, so the fruits of this week labour will be posted simultaneously.

I plan to post the stories as they are written, although there may be some delays as work/life interrupts. 


Tuesday, 4 June 2013

The Wyvern's Quest

File:Wyvern icon.jpg
Source: Wikimedia Commons
The wyvern stalks along the sandy shore: it does not know what it is looking for. Espying a child sitting on the beach, up it creeps and at the child it peeps.

‘Dearest young one of skin so pale,
I do not know what I am looking for.
Would you be so kind
As to help me find what I am a-searching for?’
The pair together, we shall not fail.’