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Red, painted lips pressed against the infant’s head, and his mother rose and turned from the still child and left the darkened room.  Her quiet voice hummed a lullaby her own mother used to sing to her, and she walked to her own bedroom to get dressed for work.

Her uniform was already clean and laid out.  She checked her purse to make certain it had all she needed, and then began to change.  A kiss on her shoulder told of her husband’s arrival.  She turned to look at him and smiled at him. “Mind helping me change?” Her wink was flirtatious, and he smiled back at her as he zipped her bright red tube top into place over her chest.  It was a struggle against her large breasts. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on August 7, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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Bugmen Attack

The war was old, and we knew our enemies well– perhaps almost as well as they knew us. That’s what the captain said, at least.

They were reptilian bugmen, with a hive mind that they could connect to and disconnect from at its will. Tough leathery skin on the outside, and unnatural organs on the inside made these beasts, and they were deadly, with built in explosive cores, long claws on hands and feet, and sharp teeth. They lacked eyes, but had strange antennae atop their heads. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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Writing Challenge: Character Alignment Horny Evil

Bored.

Zadakh was bored.

That was his only excuse, and he owned up shamelessly to Ciana, who was sent to stop him.  She was armed from the toes all the way up to her deceptively delicate ears, and her keen eyes watched as he leaned to one side and rested his elbow on the arm rest of his grand throne.  He sighed, and the air seemed to come from every corner of his chest, like one who knew only the most profound loneliness. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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The Fields that Steal

The crossing was blocked by one of the many Burn Fields.  Only a person with basic magic training and some magic could get across.  It was yet another safety measure set in place by Engie’s family to ensure that Sanctuary remained untouched by the Croes. Engie closed her eyes as she searched her inner well of power.  She was nearly depleted after such a long journey.  Without more energy, she would be unable to make it across the Burn Field Band. She had to gather some kind of reserve, or risk the life of her entire travelling party.

The Croes had the advantage of flying minions, and those in the air were immune to the effects of Burn Fields entirely. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 21, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Cobra Lurks

Rumor says that four years ago, a bedraggled and sodden traveller arrived at the castle’s gate.  When he was refused entry, he simply sat outside and waited.  He refused to give his name, and simply sat, as though waiting.  Days turned to weeks, and eventually, the king took notice and summoned him.

When the man arrived in the throne room, he bowed deeply to the king and spoke as though they were in a private meeting.

“Who are you?” The king asked with a raised brow. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 19, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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“For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.” – D.H. Lawrence

Continued from “The best thing about dreams… and it really happened.”

The boy in the girl jeans fell.  That brief expression of shock he held right before impact warmed me, and I dragged him inside, then locked the door again.  I had two of the boys now.  I took a breath and looked at the boy I just felled.  There was a small smudge of blood on his forehead.  Slowly, I checked his skull for any obvious dents.  None were found, but his nose was bleeding and looked crooked now.  I dragged him to the bedroom and tied him to a very heavy chair.

Curly watched me from the door with surprise. “Maybe you can hold your own…” He murmured. “Boss is going to put up a hell of a fight, though.  I don’t think you’ll last.”

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Posted by on January 22, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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“The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don’t know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.”

The party was finally cleared out of my house.  My father, an aged man and the host of the impromptu rave, was returned to my mother’s home.  My home was picked clean of most of the signs by the partiers, as well as several trinkets of mine from the shelves.  With resign, I used my broom to shove the last three from my home– a man and two boys.  The man wore a black suit with brown loafers and had a sweet smile as I asked him repeatedly to leave.  One of the boys had a head of curly brown hair that was very dense and formed a halo about his face.  The other boy had long, straight black hair and the current fashion: girl jeans and a tight v-neck shirt with a jacket over top and a scarf.

“Please leave.” I asked repeatedly.  I glanced away nervously.  Only the curly-haired boy was not taller than I was, and these three smelled of trouble, despite their innocent demeanor. “This is my house, and my father’s not in his right mind.” I explained dumbly.

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Posted by on January 22, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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