RSS

Tag Archives: sleep

Hiatus– for real this time.

I was laying in bed and unable to sleep when I came upon this thought: I’m more than two weeks behind.  The problem is, this isn’t the first time.  I don’t even feel bad about it anymore.  I just feel empty.  This led me (eventually) to the conclusion that I need to just stop and let my mind, which feels like a barren, burnt husk, recover from the strain I have been putting on it to try to write every day. Read the rest of this entry »

Advertisements
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 19, 2013 in Announcements

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

The Frozen Arena (Part III)

Continued from The Frozen Arena (Part II).

Our exploration continued for a week before the unknown change in two frozen figures at the center of the arena began to wear at me.  Each day, it seemed the two were different than the day before.  I began to photograph them extensively, and always from the same locations.  Comparing photos yielded no results, but the nagging feeling of something different kept me going back for several photos each day.

My colleagues began to worry, especially Nancy, who noticed that even when everyone else began to become affected by the cold after a few hours, I seemed always ready to explore more.  When she mentioned it, her tone sounded very accusatory, and I tried to avoid becoming defensive.  I did snap at her, but I quickly gave an  apology, and although the gaze she directed at me was doubtful. Read the rest of this entry »

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 28, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Mine, Craft, Farm

As I stared through my tall observation tower and faced the north, I tilted my head to one side.  It felt strange, that I was planning to go out with only a few spare tools and a wooden sword, rather than dozens of torches, tools, and whatever else I could carry.  I glanced back at the glass-surrounded room I built with my own hands.  I was proud, but I wanted to do more.  I wanted to throw danger to the winds, even with my unarmored body and my lone sword.

My home– no, my castle– was incredible.  I had this room– my observation tower.  I had a master bedroom, a guest room, a reception hall, a crafting room with everything included, an underground farm, a second level with beasts, and all the defenses a lowly farmer could create using stone, wood, glass, and some help from my friends. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Sex and Ice Cream

A day off!  For most of the day, Melanie had no idea what to do with herself.  The blonde felt lazy, bored, and horny. She paused as she stared at the clock.  She was hungry, too.  Hungry for something sweet and cold, and not too hard to get.

Finally, she pried herself from her bed and pulled on some comfortable clothes– a hoodie on top of nothing, some underwear, a miniskirt, and a pair of fun, clompy boots that had shiny buckles.  It still felt like dressing was too much work, but the nice police men hated for her to do as she liked in public. Read the rest of this entry »

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 4, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

An Unhappy Future

A new home. It was so dull, living with a normal family. His foster parents were irritatingly normal, and they could do nothing to enforce their rules. His foster father refused to call him Vinnie, and his foster mother refused to let him skip the piano lessons she required of him. He was good enough, but his teacher refused to let him advance at his own pace, and after a month, he was still doing scales.

The new home was made all the more miserable by a pre-existing basement and an underground lake not far underneath. He had no place to work, and no place to play– especially not with all of the pine trees around, with their long, thick roots. The boy did manage to install a lock on his bedroom door, and that gave him a modicum of the privacy he once had, although it felt like he was always naked. He was told he had to dress normally– leave his goggles and lab coat home when he went anywhere, brush his hair every day, and even more pointless tasks. Humans just didn’t understand. Read the rest of this entry »

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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 »

 
 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Frozen Arena (Part II)

Continued from The Frozen Arena.

It was a full year after my last visit to the frozen arena under the South Nazi rainforest, before I could find another sponsor and return there.  I spent the year creating a digital model to explore and ponder from, but nothing of the sort was capable of replacing time spent in the area, walking through it myself.

I called my crew from the previous year, and they were all available to join the expedition, even if some of them were far from eager, and seemed disappointed that I was going to take them somewhere ‘boring’ like an arena that required neither demolitions, nor fighting to defend the rest of the crew from animals or other people.  Money was money, however. Read the rest of this entry »

 
1 Comment

Posted by on May 16, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,