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For Sale

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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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 »

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Posted by on June 28, 2013 in Modern Fiction


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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 »

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Posted by on May 16, 2013 in Modern Fiction


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The Frozen Arena

Despite a tropical rain forest one hundred fifty feet above us, a flat ice arena surrounded our expedition team on all sides.  Far above, on uncushioned bleachers, spectators stood, frozen in their cheers.  The highest seat stood empty, and a guard stood in a protective stance near the door, as though urging someone through.  Not far from us, the two battlers were frozen in combat.  One was ready to decapitate the other with a curved blade.  The other stood resolute, his eyes unblinking as he stared into the dark eyes of the first, a silent dare that chilled me to the core as I looked into those frozen, pale orbs.

We spread out to investigate.  Even in our parkas, the cold bit our flesh and chilled our bones.  Somehow, not one of us had dressed quite warmly enough for this. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on May 13, 2013 in Modern Fiction


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“There will be more wars until men grow brave enough to stop them.”

Crack!  The two armies rushed like the tides into the valley.  From the rim, archers shot anyone who wore a color not their own.  A roar rose from the mass as the melee was met.  Warriors belted out their battle cries.  The battle was quick-paced, and both sides fought hard for dominance.  Even with archers on either side, it took several minutes for the first dead to fall.

Steel clashed freely against more steel, and shouts of pain and rage replaced the battle cries.  The cacophony threatened to drive the mounted watcher to join.  Her gloved fingers clenched the reins, and she stared down.  Her mail was pristine– each link agonizingly scoured hours ago.  The tabard over top was pristine, with neither device nor border.  She took a deep breath through chapped lips, then drove her horse to a run as she spotted a shift in the flow of battle.  She rode not toward the melee, but instead to a baggage train.

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Posted by on January 19, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction


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Ice searches in the fire.

Screams sounded everywhere around the warrior.  Supposedly retired, he wore his armor like a second skin, and rose with the aid of his large battleaxe. “Boy!” he called as he walked through the choking smoke. “Boy, where are ya, lad?” The old warrior squinted through the smoke, then began to cough.  He doubled back down to one knee.  His chest ached, and for a moment, his eyes glowed an evil blue. “Boy!” he shouted again, only to nearly collapse as he coughed all the more.  Blood shot from his mouth, into his hand, and as he stood, he absently wiped it onto his cape.

The cape was covered in bloody hand-prints and smears, many old, and some new. “Boy!” He felt unsteady on his feet, and despite the personal danger, he walked into his guild’s house.  The boy was not there.  Luckily, the building was undamaged as well– especially given the amount of people inside.  He closed the door to prevent smoke entering, and made his way fearlessly into the heart of the attack on the city.

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Posted by on December 28, 2012 in Semihistorical Fiction


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