Monday, December 19, 2011

Shut Your Light Hole

Down through the dirt hole, Peter peered. A light had shone out from the darkness of the roughly dug hole, like a beam rising into the starry night sky.

He had been walking hurriedly home from work, along the sidewalk that boarded the tree-filled park, when he had seen the light coming from the hole in the grassy ground and stopped.

Such an odd thing, the small hole could have been made by some animal, trying to get at what lay beneath, yet the shaft of light, though thin, seemed not to be a natural occurrence.

So Peter had stopped and was now kneeling down to investigate, his face lit byte the golden light of the hole. Something did seem to be underneath, a light source escaping through the small opening it had been given.

Peter leaned in closer and reached into dig out the opening a bit more, pushing the edges down into the hole itself.

He had barely touched the sides and the dirt began to crumble away and the hole enlarged rapidly so that Peter had to pull back quickly as to not fall off balance.

The light that broke through was brilliant as it beamed up and into the sky like a spot light.

To get closer, Peter got down on all fours, paying little regard to the knees of his slacks getting dirty. He squinted as he peered further down into the hole of light.

Thought it, what he saw made his brain swirl with incomprehension. For on the other side of the opening was a sun, shinning brightly in a blue sky.

Resting more of his weight upon the ground, Peter pushed himself closer still to the hole, almost pushing his face through the hole itself.

He caught a glimpse of a green land through the clouds that hovered around the giant sphere on the sun, as it sat in the sky that seemed to curve down and away from his view.

Suddenly, the ground broke away from him and he felt himself falling through the widening gap. Reflexively, Peter grabbed onto the other side of the hole's edge and held on with both hands as his body swung down to hang in the air at the top of the sky on the other side.

Frantically he looked down to see that he was indeed hanging thousands of meters above a green land pocked with pools of blue water and high, snow-topped mountains. All of which were lit by the glowing sphere of the sun that hung just to his left a few hundred meters below.

A world within the world, he thought as he tried to pull himself up, but the dirt crumbled and he lost his grip on the edge.

Tumbling through the sky, the wind whipped passed his ears as he fell passed the massive orange sun, his small figure a silhouette against its bright surface.

Faster and faster the ground rush towards him, and Peter fought fiercely to swim through the air so that he was positioned over one of the big lakes of crystal blue water. Maybe, he thought, at least I can try to splash down into the water, instead of the ground. Though he was not sure if he would survive either impact.

So, as he approached the water rapidly, he dropped his feet down underneath himself so that they would break through first and closed his eyes.

In the blackness he felt a jolt and he opened his eyes. The darkness remained but with the speckles of twinkling light that were the stars in the sky above. He sat up to find that he was back on the grass of the park and it was night once more.

He stood up and looked around for the hole but the ground was unbroken wherever he looked. A couple walked by along the sidewalk with their small dog on its leash, and as they passed the dog wandered over to him and sniffed the ground at his feet and began to paw at it.

Its owners tugged him away and apologized but Peter barely noticed, he only looked down where the dog had been pawing to see a tiny sliver of light coming through the grass blades.

He sidestepped quickly off the spot and tip-toed back to the sidewalk, where he continued home, not bothering to brush the dirt that covered his knees and hands.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Pool

Something was wrong; something was amiss.

Some dark thing felt to be lurking,

from beyond the abyss.

Looking into the inky pool's reflection,

the one looking back seemed odd.

And not one of my own, familiar complexion.

At first thought, perhaps the light fell in error.

Yet as I gazed further, my heart filled up with dread.

The mirrored visage became on of terror.

With its sneering black teeth and eyes devoid of light,

from out of the pool it for me,

as, stumbling back, I tried to take flight.

But its icy grip held my arm fast.

I felt myself being pulled back, into the pool.

Knowing surly, the next breath would be my last.

Now it is I who look out from the murky waters so cold.

Only a reflection upon the pool's calm surface.

And it is to you that my story be told.

My friends, if it is me you think that you see.

My horrid twin has taken my place.

Take my warning, run, save yourself; flee!

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The Lute Creature

Deep in the woods, there lives a creature of unimaginable power. Though it does not know it. It thinks of itself as just a plain, simple creature, living its life contently amongst the trees.

It is not a very large creature, rather small in fact. It does not mind, however, for its small stature keeps it hidden out of sight. And for the most part, that is what it wants to be, out of sight of the other creatures who live in the woods and the lands beyond.

On some nights, though, it comes out from its home in the trunk of an old tree, sits on its favourite stump, and begins to pluck away on its little homemade lute. As it plays, the notes of its melody dance out and up into the dark night sky.

They shine and sparkle in the dark pitch of the sky, lighting up the night with their shimmering glow. All the other creatures come out of their holes and burrows, sleepily draw by the one little creature's simple song.

Big and small, they all sit around the creature on its stump peacefully and watch as its song lights dance above them. The song lifts the woods into the sky, and it floats like an island amongst the shimmering lights, leaving the world below.

Soon there seems to be no distance at all between the tall tree tops and the darkness of space, but all the creatures of the wood are warm and happy as they sway back and forth to the melody the little creature continues to plink on the tight strings of its crude little lute.

Slowly, the creature begins to end its song and the woods begin to drop down from the sky gently. And as the sun's rays begin to peak over the rim of the horizon, the forest sets back in place and the song ends.

The other creatures of the woods lumber and scamper back to their homes to go back to their slumber, but the little creature only sits on its stump, smiling as it watches them go.

Just before the sphere of the sun comes over the horizon, chasing the night away, the creature heads to its home as well. To rest itself for the next evening's song.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


In the dank light between the two buildings a glowing ball began to flicker into existence.

It hovered a few meters above the slick, garbage littered pavement and grew its radius with pulsating beats. Within the bright white light of the glowing orb, an image of a featureless figure rippled into view for a moment and faded away.

The figure wavered in and out a few more times as a crackling noise began to emanate all around the orb.

In a blinding flash, a bolt of lightning came crashing down from the clear night sky and hit the glowing orb as if drawn to it.

After a deafening crack, the flashing electrical bolt and glowing orb were gone, and an opaque figure stood from kneeling position. Their skin gave off off a faint amber glow itself, as if lit from within.

Neither male, nor female; human in appearance, but altogether other worldly. With each step it took, the concrete seared with radiant heat.

They had arrived, and had come to complete the mission that had been given; the mission passed down from their masters, through the ranks, to them to complete; them alone.

As the glowing being left the alleyway in a slow, determined stride, Heather watched in awe from where she had hidden, behind a dumpster, when she first saw the flickering light on her way home.

She crouched awkwardly in her skirt and heels, out of sight as the towering figure passed. As it did, she could swear she heard it saying aloud to itself in a monotone voice, “Destroy all Rune Buns!”

But that made no sense. They cannot have meant that, could they?

Monday, September 12, 2011


Blood drips from his finger tips as hestands with his arms held out from his body, his chest heaving heavywith breath. He can feel the stinging of the cuts upon his left armas he clenches his fist and shakes the dripping blood upon concretewith a splatter. In his right, he grips his sword.

Looking down the length of the street,he never breaks his gaze from the figure, standing like a mirroredimage a full block away. The two looking wary and haggard aftertheir long battle, but both ready to strike like great, deadly junglecats at the first sign of the others movement.

The amber street lamps light citystreet with the sinister lights of the; their sickening glow castingcontorted shadows on the two opponents' faces. Only the sharp glintof hatred in their eyes penetrates their silhouetted visage.

He squints as he sees his counterparttense his grip on his own sword hilt, the blade glinting with theslight movement. He sneers and twirls his sword deftly in his hand ashe changes his stance, shifting his weight to his front leg, readyingto strike.

With a snarl his foe begins a mutedsprint toward him as he himself releases a growl and tears forward.

Leading with their free hands they lettheir shining blades trail out behind as they run furiously towardone another.

As they gain speed, the lights of thecity street flicker and the background shifts to a muddy, gray skylit battle field. Bodies of dead warriors and horses lay in thetrampled ground as the two run ever onward.

As pools of muddy water splash up witheach of their foot strikes, the battle field flickers and the rubbleof an ancient city surrounds them, its dusty, arid streets brightlylit as the sun beats down from the white hot sky.

Each time the scene changes, the twostill charging enemies change their grab to that of the nativewarriors that lay about them in bloodied heaps.

As they near each other within a dozenmeters, the ruins flicker away and are replaced by an empty, grassymeadow; the breeze blowing peacefully through the long, reedy stocks.

The two doppelgangers cover the last ofthe distance between them with a leap into the air. Their gray,peasant clothes stained with the blood of their wounds.

The steel of their blades clash andthey land with a roll away from each other.

He swiftly turns to face his double ashe faces him; the hateful glare mimicked on both of their faces. They round each other, the movements of their feet and blades likean intricate dance.

“This was my favourite death.” hesays steadily as he switches his stance.

“Then come,” his opponent answersin a growl, “let us die once more.”

They leap, hefting their blades highover their heads to bring them down on one another in a slashingblow. Another clash of their blades and the light washes over thescene; their never ending battle; eternal.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Sitting on a bench nestled in the wooded courtyard outside the towering glass building, he stares through the green-leafed tree branches. A peaceful refuge amid the busy city, he relaxes as a butterfly flutters by.

The greenery is lush and verdant, crowding around the shimmering, reflective windows of the building; a stark contrast to the courtyard's natural surroundings.

From his bench he can see his own reflection in the amber tinted glass that covers the building's surface as it rises out of the tree cover into the blue sky.

His reflection is dressed like him, sits like him, and looks to be his exact double in every way; yet, his reflection was not looking back at him, but writing in his notebook.

He frowned with concern at his reflected self, whom did not look up from his writing. After a moment he stood up from the bench and slowly started to walk toward the building's mirrored wall.

His reflection did not move, he just continued to scribble happily in his notebook.

Dread filled the pit of his stomach as he moved closer to the building, a feeling that spread along his spine as he neared to where his reflection should have been staring back at him.

Up close to the building's windowed wall, he could see all the surrounding scenery reflected like a true to life mural, save of course his own image, who sat quietly writing on the bench he himself had just left.

Apprehensively, he reached out and touched the smooth surface of the building. It was solid and unyielding, though slightly hot from the sun's light. He knocked on the window, half testing its realness, half trying to somehow get the attention of his reflection. Neither seem to take any notice.

He bang a bit harder with his clenched fist and the window shook with vibration slightly, yet his reflected other continued to write unperturbed.

A wind picked up and shifted the trees as clouds shaded the sun light, darkening the sky above. A shiver traveled up his spine into his skull as he looked behind his seated reflection into the thick shade of the trees, and saw that the shadows started to gather together from all the nooks and crannies of the woods.

Moving like living smoke, the shadows grew together to form a mass that loomed behind both himself and his reflection in the amber hue of the window's surface.

Massive tendrils grew out into arms that stretched out and up to add to the shadow creature's height, while two burning red eyes opened near the beast's apex; eyes that stared directly at him.

The thing began to move toward the bench where his other sat unconcerned with anything that was happening. Banging on the window he tried to warn his reflection of the approach of the shadow creature, but he did not hear.

When the creature moved around the bench and continued toward him and the building, taking no notice of his writing other self, he began to pound and scream louder to try and get his reflection to do something. But still he merely sat and wrote feverishly in his notebook, a small smile upon his lips.

Panic filled his mind as the creature neared, its smokey body growing larger, reaching out for him, clawing with its long snaky arms as it shook the ground with a booming roar.

He screamed as he banged both fists against the building, and then stopped suddenly as an idea came to him. His eyes squinted in thought and then widened as realization came to him.

Slowly, he looked up at the creature as it bore down upon him, closed his eyes, and turned to face it.

He felt the darkness enveloped him but he opened his eyes. He was back on the bench, a soft breeze blew through the trees and birds chirped in the blue sky above.

He looked around and saw no sign of the shadow creature and realized he had a pen in his hand. On his lap was his notebook with his almost illegible handwriting scrolled all over it.

Across the courtyard, in the reflection of the big building's windowed surface, his double sat on his bench as well; looking surprised to find he had no notebook on his lap or pen in his hand.

He smirked at the confused image and began to scribble in his notebook.

Behind the bench his reflection sits on, the trees begin to move back and forth in the growing wind. The shadows begins collecting together as his reflection looks at him in the amber windows. His reflection's eyes grow wide as he watches the shadow creature gain shape.

As he writes in his notebook, a mischievous grin slides across his face, and his reflection gets up and shouts to get his attention.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Salt Silver Oxygen

Storm clouds crowd the sky, as they always had. Ever since she was a young girl, all she had known was the dark gray cloud cover. For as long as anyone could remember, the clouds had leer on high, menacing great storms, but never a drop came.

They stumble across the arid plain; he had struck out from their village all those months ago, pulled, he had said, pulled by a feeling that he needed to follow, and she had followed him.

Their water pouches had run dry and they had not found a cache of hidden moisture for days. The constant humidity in the air sucking the energy from her very being, but on she followed him; as long as he kept on, so would she.

Traveling so long and far from their home, in search of something he would only say was a feeling just out of his reach of understanding, a feeling he had to find a way to bring the long rumbling storm.

So many trials and dangers they had come through, over harsh lands that threatened to destroy them if they were to but falter. But they had been strong and endured.

Until now, in this vast, cracked earth plain that seemed to go on forever, never nearing the mountains that darkened the horizon between the gray sky and washed out land, now they stumble.

She trips on her own feet and falls to her hands and knees as he looks back to her. She wants to cry, but is too exhausted and her body is too dry now to bring tears anyway. He turns and staggers over to her, reaching out his hand to help her up.

A hoarse scream cracks from her throat. Why? She asks. Why does he go on?

He stops and lets his hand drop to his side as he looks at her with sad eyes; tired, but not yet defeated.

Because he must. He answers and turns to begin walking towards the mountains on the far horizon again.

Thunder cracks in the clouds above as he steps and he looks up at the rolling mass above. Each day the same, the clouds rumbling with the promise of a storm, and each day, nothing. Just rumblings and no more. Life had gone from the land and the sky would not give it back.

Yet, as another rumble comes, louder than the first, shaking the ground she holds onto as she kneels watching with burred eyes, he stops and looks up at the sky.

She watches as he cocks his head and seems to smell the air. Her shaking stops as she watches and he turns slowly, smiling with a goofy grin across his lips. He looks down from the sky toward her and passed her, to something behind her.

She lifts herself off her hands and cranes her head around to see a crowd of weary travelers stumble toward them. As they come closer she can see that it is their entire village. They had followed as well. Some carry the young and support the elderly, but they too had made it across the harsh land. Followed him.

She looks to her sides and can see more groups coming up, more villages all stumbling with exhaustion to where the the rest stood and stared at he whom they had all been pulled to follow.

And he smiles at all in a serene grin that has somehow wiped away all the tiredness from him.

when all had gathered behind where she knelt, she looked back to him and he gave her a broad smile which filled her with a desperate confusion.

Thunder booms in the sky above as the dark clouds are illuminated by a flashing light within. She had seen lightning a few times in her life, when the clouds looked as if they where going to burst but those times were few and far between.

Now the clouds are full with flashes of lightning that dance inside the billowing blackness above.

I know now. He says as he smiles at her and turns toward the horizon with his arms lifting up to the sky. Quietly, his sandaled feet lift off the ground and he floats up into the air.

She cries out to him and staggers to her feet to chase after, but he turns and shakes his head with the knowing smile still across his face.

His image waivers as a bolt of lightning streaks down from the biggest of the darkening clouds and he raises higher, lifting his head skyward, closing his eyes as a drop of rain falls upon his cheek, rolling down his face like a tear of joy.

Lighting cracks again and as the thunder booms in unison, more rain drops fall from the full clouds above, a shower at first that soon begins to pour down upon the land and the crowds that laugh and cry and dance around her.

She feels the rain's moisture wet her parched skin but she can only watch as he raises higher into the sky, finally disappearing into the storm.

Dropping her head she looks down at the ground that becomes muddy around her feet with the rain at long last. Her tears fall at long last as well and mix with the rain drops to add to the life-giving moisture the land has longed for.

She watches the drops plop as they hit the ground before her feet and then she sees a glint of light glimmering off the water droplets.

Startled, she looks up and sees a crack in the cloud cover, and a beam of golden light shining down from somewhere beyond the darkness that had always been complete in the skies above.

The crowds behind her stop their celebrations and stand silent as they all look up to the light that breaks through. One beam, and then another, and another; pushing through the darkness and opening the cracks larger and larger.

The rain still falls but the clouds begin to break up from each other and let more of the golden light through, until there is enough open space to see a bright blue behind.

A blue unseen for a thousand years.

And as she looks up into the sky for the first time, she smiles and laughs at his goofy grin and knows why as well.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

The Ghostbuster Bikes Dream

Last night I dreamt I witnessed a crime.

As I watched, two men came into a busy auto-body shop and stole two custom-made bicycles. Everyone was too busy to notice except me. I didn't try to stop them, I just watched them speed off and said, “Hey, those two guys just stole the Ghostbuster bicycles.”, and we called the police.

I described the bikes to the police over the phone and eventually they came around bringing a bike into the shop.

They were smiling and happy, they were not able to get back both yet they explained, but they had managed to find one of them at least.

I was livid.

They had brought just a plain looking bmx. I asked them, “Did you not hear what I said? I told you, they were two 'Ghostbuster' bikes! This is a small, gray and silver bmx. The bikes that were stolen were black, and had the words Ghostbusters painted in red lettering on the frame as well as the Ghostbusters' symbol decal-ed all over them. Also, they were twice as long as a regular bike.”

The police officers looked disappointed, and said, “But isn't this one of the bikes IN Ghostbusters?”

I became enraged.

“This is from E.T.! Get the hell out of here!”

The summer heat is getting to me...

Monday, July 4, 2011


Before he knew what he was doing, Michael jumped down into the trench, landing beside the young girl that had fallen off the ledge and onto the subway tracks.

The sounds of the crowds' shouts, loudest of the them all the terrified screams of the child's mother, distant in his ears as he bent down to gingerly scoop up the unconscious girl in his arms. A trickle of blood flowing from the cut on her forehead where she had hit against the metal rail.

Michael could see she was breathing slowly like she was in a restful slumber as he lifted her off the grimy ground.

Moving as in a dream, he turned to lift her fragile body up to the waiting hands of the crowd kneeling down at the edge of the platform. He felt her light weight being lifted from him as another sound poured into his ears; the muffled horn of the subway train.

Slowly, he turned his head to look down the dim tunnel which was being lit by the bright lights of the train as it barreled down the tracks, blowing its horn wildly at him.

The people on the ledge screamed for him to climb up, holding out their hands to him. But there would not be enough time, he was near the tunnel opening; the train was almost upon him already.

Michael turned and faced the train, and as its lights glared in his eyes, he remembered moments from his life.

Falling off the monkey bars at school when he was a young boy. Chasing after a street-hockey ball while a car screeched its brakes. Sliding off a friend's roof while they snuck out after dark as teenagers. Wiping out while skiing down a wooded mountain trail.

All these incidents flashing through his memory; such odd things to be remembered at a time like this, but there had been something there he had not seen before.

Every near miss, all of them, should have ended with at least a terrible injury if not death; none did.

Each time he had simply walked away, not giving it a second thought. Until now. Now he looked; he watched as his memories revealed to him the answer.

It had not been fate, or even dumb luck that had save him. Every time his life was to be cut short; it had been him.

The white light washed over him and faded away as the screeching of the subway train brakes filled his ears.

Michael opened his eyes to find the train was a few meters in front of him, unmoving, though its wheels spun madly, sparks shooting from their contact with the tracks.

The driver's face was a white sheet of astonishment as he gripped the train's brake lever.

The crowd's shouts and screams had died away and as Michael turned to look at them, he realized that he was at the same level as they were. Their faces agog with disbelief.

He looked from them down to see that he was hovering above the dirty track floor about two meters up. Hand outstretched to the train in front of him, Michael could feel that he was stopping it from plowing through.

His feet dangled as he hung effortlessly in the air, looking as taken aback as the crowd.

A though of floating over to the ledge and he started to move toward the crowded platform. The people moved back as he touched down quietly on the floor.

The train suddenly lurched forward as he put his hand down; it rolled to a slow stop and some of the passengers that could see out of the windows watched his landing.

The crowd stood silently, the entire station did, as Michael looked at his hands; turning them over to inspect them as though for the first time.

He looked from his hands to the staring people, the mother of the girl he had lifted out off the tracks held her daughter in her arms, standing out in front with tears in her eyes.

She began to say something but her mouth only opened and shut noiselessly.

Michael looked as perplexed as the rest and almost started to say so when he heard a shout in the distance. A cry out for help, seemingly close by, but no one in the subway station had said a word.

Again it came and he turned to look down the dark tunnel at the other end of the platform. No one else seemed to react to the plea but him. He heard it a third time and stepped off the platform edge to hover above the tracks.

The mother stepped forward as if to stop him, but then looked into his eyes as he looked from the tunnel to her.

Go on.” she whispered after a quiet moment.

Michael nodded and turned himself toward the far tunnel taking a deep breath. Like a bolt, he took off through the air; a blur of movement that disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel that led to the city outside.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Summer Storm

Lightning flashes in the sky, lighting up the dark clouds that loom, but still no rain comes to break the mounting tension. Thunder rumbled and he was there.

Standing on the horizon, a dark figure against the darkening sky.

She had never seen him before, but she knew who he was; she knew he had come for her.

Another streak of lightning raced across the sky behind the figure and she could see the features of his strong, bearded face; could see the flash in his dark eyes; eyes that looked directly into hers.

She stood defiantly across the field, her chin raised up as she stared back at the man. Her own eyes shining fiercely with the flashing light.

The rumble of thunder began to fade as another bolt of lightning sparked anew with a cracking boom.

At this the dark figure starts toward her and she hurriedly stepped onto the dusty plain to match his stride. The dry, arid ground crunched under foot as they both made their way across the barren field, moving swiftly, straight toward one another.

Her heart beat built as she neared the tall, dark figure of the man, moving purposefully to her.

A dozen or so strides away from each other, they came to a halt and regarded each other in the quiet rumble of the storm building above them.

To her left, movement made her quickly look sidelong at a third figure that had come, seemingly out of nowhere.

A young boy with a dirty face and carrying a guitar taking up half the size of his body sauntered up lazily.

He too, stopped paces away and she looked back to the bearded man who had not taken his deep, black eyes off of her.

Her heart raced until all she could hear was its beating in her ears.

Another flash lit up the sky and the man flourished his arms and held one above his head and the other down and out towards her.

She took a breath in and was about to speak when the young boy's guitar sounded with a proudly strum chord.

He worked his little fingers deftly along the strings and the man, just as suddenly began to stamp his boots to the rhythm of the guitar, kicking up puffs of dust as he moved his arms fluidly with each stamp.

Not knowing what to do, she watched with amazement as, with a sudden pound on the top of his guitar, the young boy stopped his strum and began to sing in a loud, wavering voice and the man began clap to keep the beat.

Once the boy's first verse was complete he beat on his guitar again and began to strum and sing together as the man began to move in a wide circle around where she stood.

Unknowingly, she too began to clap rapidly to keep the beat and spin slowly around as the man moved his circle in closer to her. As they spun and turned, their eyes never left one another until they were only inches away from each other.

They began to move around each other; at the same time, with one another. Two figures, moving in and out of one the others' space, as the other move into where they had just been.

The boy's song suddenly stopped once again and she looked deeply into the man's eyes, which were not black, but the deepest brown, and the lightning flash with a thunderous crash.

Rain began to fall from the ripe clouds, patting down on the dry ground around them.

The boy sang a solemn chorus and, as the rain began to fall harder he began to strum once more, and the two figures became drenched as they danced with passion to beat of the drops hitting the long parched soil.

And when the last of the thunder rumbled away into the distance, she spun around to find she was alone.

She looked to the ground and saw it was muddied from the movements of the dance. The boy's song and his guitar faded in her ear while the brown eyes of the man burnt in her memory, and the rain fell, cooling her skin and at last quenching the land of its thirst.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Bounce Point

Keith's curiosity got the better of him.

Normally he would never ask a stranger their business. It was a good rule. In the city there were too many weirdies and oddballs, that asking such an innocent question as; “What are you doing?” could land you in a heaping pile of crazy.

But he had been watching the man in the middle of the little park field for about a half hour and he seemed completely normal, except for the fact that he kept testing spots on the grassy ground with his feet; stomping down a normal looking patch of grass, sometimes doing a little two-footed hop on the spot, and then looking up into the sky.

It seemed to be random, but the man, wearing a clean-cut set of khaki shorts and a polo shirt, was so methodical about it, it seemed he may be conducting an experiment.

So, despite himself, Kieth got up from his bench where he had been reading his book and slowly, apprehensively, made his way to the open area of grass where the stranger continued to stomp, hop, and look up.

When he got a few meters away, he stood with his arms folded across his chest and ventured his inquiry.

“So,” he started shyly, “uh, what are you doing there?” He cleared his throat nervously.

Without looking up from his routine, the man stated in a perfectly normal tone, “I'm testing the ground for a bounce point.”

Kieth nodded as if he understood.

“Oh yeah.” he said in agreement, and then with less certainty he added, “Bounce point for what?”

Hopping on a new spot the stranger replied, “For a leap point.”

“I see.” Kieth said, even though he did not.

Then the man hopped to another spot and bounce a little higher than he should have for such a little hop. About a half a meter off the ground.

“Ah, ha!” the stranger said with the delight of discovery as he immediately tested the pot he had just bounced on.

Kieth watched on with interest.

“Did you find one?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“Yup.” the man answered simply. And then looked from the spot on the ground to the clear, blue sky above and then over to the trees that lined the field.

“Okay, let's see if this works.” he said to himself as he strode in big, meter-length strides away from the spot to the trees, counting as he went.

Kieth watched with a perplexed look on his face and counted along in his head; twenty paces.

The man then turned back to face him and the spot. He waved his hand for Kieth to move back.

“Could you step back a few paces, please?” he asked politely and Kieth hopped out of the way, going back almost to his bench, then stopped to stand and watch for what this strange man was going to do next.

Back at the trees, the man took a few deep breathes which he blew out with force while shaking out his arms and hands to loosen them up.

And then began to run full tilt towards the spot on the grass he had bounced from.

Keith's eyes widen as the man sped towards the spot. At around seventeen paces he leapt up like a long jumper and stretched out with his legs to land, full force on his bounce point.

He landed dead on and bounced, rocketing into the air.

Kieth's mouth dropped open as his eyes shot up to watch as the man climbed higher and higher upward until he was no more than a dot against the blue, cloudless sky.

When he could no longer make out where the man had gone, Kieth looked around to see if anyone else had seen what he had just witnessed, but there was only him in the park at the moment.

He put his hand on his hip and scratched his head with the other.

After debating it, he walked over to the bit of ground the man had launched from and padded it with his foot.

It seemed just as solid as the ground around it. Nothing special at all.

He looked around again to see it anyone was around; a couple holding hands walked along the path through the park and he smiled at them as they passed him and continued on through.

Once they had gone he took a deep breath and did a hop onto the 'bounce point'.

As he hit, the ground gave way into a sink hole and he landed off balance, rolling his bad right ankle.

Limping home on his swollen ankle, book in hand, he decided it was still good practice to never ask strangers their business.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Machine

Underneath the surface of the planet, deep down in the depths; passed where people fear to venture; passed all known knowledge; massive tolls push great wheels that turn huge cogs of the machine that powers the world.

The parts of the unimaginably large machine all move, and whirl, and pump, and click throughout the ever expansive catacombs, high-vaulted chambers that look neither carved nor natural, only apart of the intricate machinery itself.

Smaller creatures move smaller wheels and smaller cogs at different points along the machine, all of them hard and worn from their years of labour. Every one of them driven by whipping slave masters that looked even harder and more worn, wearing leather hoods and snarling with hatred as they crack their whips unmercifully.

Driving the slave masters, were even more menacing figures, standing in the shadows of the caves, looking on in silence; their glowing eyes watching for any slack in the eternal workings of the machine.

Occasionally, one of the shadowy figures would bolt out from their hiding and swooped down upon a slave master who's whip was not snapping as often as it should; kicking and screaming, the slave masters would be carted off, gripped in the talons of the screeching creatures as horrid wings carried them up into some high ledge in the ceiling to be feasted upon. Just to make sure the machine was working to maximum efficiency.

Through the workings of the machine; the cogs, wheels, shafts, pistons, axles, and other various parts deep down into the world's core, the heat and motion caused the soft stone of the center to melt and churn into molten lava; the life blood of the planet.

And as the sea of heated rock moved, so did the entire world, thus creating atmosphere and environment to allow life to survive and flourish on the surface.

But this is only a by-product, a happy coincidence of the true purpose of the machine.

For sitting at the machine's end, the machine beginning, was the most terrible of beings. A fat, lazy, dirt covered old man, with a big round belly and a ratty, sooty beard. A wizard.

It was he who had thought of the machine; he who had forced the creatures of the sub-terrain into building and running it. For eons he had threatened them with his magic to construct his great machine. And for eons more had he enslaved them to run it with their sweat and blood.

A machine built for a selfish purpose. For in the end, the machine, and all its systems that ran thousands of leagues under the world's surface, and created enough heat to melt the core of the planet, also ground the wizard's coffee beans to the perfect consistency.

Wizards love coffee.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

A New Sun

The warm rays beat down upon his exposed skin as beads of sweat came to cool him. The exertion of the climb added more perspiration to his hot forehead, but he kept on, steadily rising up the steep incline.

Steadily being drawn to the summit of the great pyramid, the shining apex of which, pointed directly to the bright light of the sun in the hazy sky above.

He scrambled the last of the way up the smooth surface of the cap stone and straightened himself to stand; high above the jungle below, and far beneath the radiant orb of the sun above.

Shielding his eyes with his hands, he looked up into the white light of the sun and saw what he had thought he had seen from in amongst the trees on the ground. A golden triangle shape formed around the glowing sphere.

Turning his hand to look at the palm of his right, the shape of a triangle, tattooed on his skin for as long as he could remember, was the same that now appeared around the sun. Its dull black-green lines a glow somehow with light.

He looked from his hand to the sun and back, then slowly, instinctively, he moved his hand up, to cover the distant light. With his arm fully extended and the sun covered from his vision behind his hand, he felt a warmth flowing from his palm, down his arm and throughout his entire body.

Heat increasing, he closed his hand around the triangled sun and slowly the light faded from the sky. His fist clenched he brought his hand down to his chest and the was no more sun in the sky.

The world was dark, entirely. Only the soft glow from between his clenched fingers could be seen in the pitch blackness.

Looking down at his fist, he released his fingers and there, floating slightly above his palm, the sun burned brightly. The triangle shape spun around the golden ball of light as his rotated its own way, its rays lighting the world around him and warming his entire being.

Closing his hand again he stood for a moment in the darkness.

Only for a moment, then, he thrust his arm into the air above and release his grip on the sun and wave of light pulsated out, enveloping him in sea of blinding whiteness.

When the bright wave washed away, the top of the pyramid stood empty again and a new sun hung serenely in the sky; two faint triangle shaped spun faintly around it. Barely noticeable, as the new sun shone brighter, more alive than the old dying one.

Born anew once more.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Top Hat

A top hat.

Brendan could have sworn he had seen a top hat moving through the thick of the green trees to his right. He moved along the trail that he frequented on his daily run, through the massive park in the middle of the busy city.

And as he looked to his side, through the layered backdrop of oaks, elms, and pines, he caught sight of a black top hat moving parallel to him. Just a top hat. He could see no one wearing it. It simply seemed to float along, moving beside him and moving in on him.

He slowed to catch a better look and saw that it was moving right toward him through the greenery. Just before cresting the edge of the tree line where the worn path ran; just before he began to back away from the seemingly levitating hat, a face appeared bellow its thick brim.

The smiling face of a curly haired young man greeted him as the figure stepped out of the trees and onto the path. Dressed in a fine, black velvet suit and long, red-lined cloak, the handsome young man tip his head in a friendly nod.

Brendan was taken aback but managed to nod his hello back as the man seemed to float to him and passed, continuing to the other side of the path and towards the treeline to his left. He followed the man's movement with a quizzical look and the man in the somehow impeccably clean suit turned his head back to look at Brendan with a grin and another nod.

He moved back in through the tress and Brendan watched as the figure of the man under the top hat seemed to fade into the foliage, while the black top hat continued to move through the trees and bushes.

Soon the hat was out of sight and Brendan gave his head a shake as he started to jog along the soft dirt path again. Every so often he would look back at where he had been, but no one was there. He turned back to face forward, and he ran into a looming skeleton figure, wearing a black top hat, and a wide, toothy grin.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Zurn Industries

Looking out from his tall tower of glass and steel, he surveyed the cityscape; his cityscape. A smirking smile pulled his face even more taut than it already was as he watch all the people going about their lives; each one unsuspecting, each one in his grasp; under his control.

He clasped his hands behind his back as he stood at the floor to ceiling glass of his massive office at the topmost corner of the highest building in the city he had watched grow over the years, under his guiding hand.

His gray, tailored suit fit snug against his broad, muscled shoulders and chest. His shaved head and piercing blue eyes added to his commanding stature. Those that had had the rare occasion to meet him face to face, were awed by not only his intimidating form, but by how he looked only to be a man in his late thirties. Yet he was much older than that. Older than anyone would possibly dream.

Everyone, but one that is. The man who now stood on the other side of his big desk, staring at him; not awestruck, not afraid, not even intimidated, but with hatred.

He could feel it, and he relished in it.

“For millennia,” the larger man said in a deep, room shaking voice, not taking his eyes off the scene outside the window. “I had sought to conquer this world. Time and time again I have tried. And never have I quite closed my grip. And always you have arisen to stand against me.”

He turned to face the younger man standing a full head shorter than him, leaner and a little less solid, but only compared to the larger man in the gray suit. His brown suit set off his blazing green eyes even more than they already were aflame with seething hated.

The big man scoffed as he smirked again.

“But this time I have won, my old friend.” he said confidently. “This time you cannot stop me.”

The younger man sneered and hunched his shoulders like a stalking cat. “This time I do not mean to just stop your plans.” he almost snarled with disdain. “This time I have come to destroy you.”

Laughter boomed from the big, bald man as he lean his head back slightly with amusement.

“But you see, that is the beauty of what I have created,” he said as he shook his head with a knowing smile. “I have built this society up to sustain itself only upon that which I give to them. The lives they lead, the goods they buy and consume, the games they play, the idols they drool over, the entertainment they mindlessly give worth to; the business, the money, the religions they worship; I gave them. They are are all me. I have corrupted them and manipulated them so that even those that they think they have put in power, to rule for them, and over them, only do so because I have allowed it.”

He gave a self-satisfied smile to the seething young man in front of him; the same young man he had been facing over and over again through the eons. And this time he was finally going to win.

“I will put an end to your evil once and for all, Zurn.” The man in the brown suit spat. “And the world will finally be free of you. Even if it means my end as well.”

Zurn straighten himself even taller at the sound of his name.

“Foolish.” Zrun shook his head sadly at his ageless opponent. “Do you not see? Even if you kill me, my empire is already built. And it will go on after I am gone, the Children will see to that. My empire is the world! ”

His voice boomed at the end of his speech and he quieted himself again. “So you see, Aiel, either way. I have already won.”

Zurn began to laugh once again and the sound caused Aiel to snap. With a shout he dashed forward and leapt from the desk toward the massive figure of Zurn.

Zurn cut his merriment short and rushed to meet his eternal opponent as he leapt toward him with fists clenched.

The two shouted like mad men as they came together. Aiel's angle carried him careening into Zurn with enough force to send the big man reeling back, and with the smaller man upon his chest, they smashed through the glass of the window and fell out into the sunlit sky.

As glass hit the sidewalk at the base of the skyscraper in shards a few people looked up in time to see the two struggling figures falling toward them and they leapt out of the way. With a sickening splat, the two bodies hit the ground and were nearly obliterated by the force.

Everyone on the street stopped as the busy traffic skidded to a halt, all trying to see what had happened.

Some ran screaming at what they saw, others got sick as they turned away from the horrid scene. But most simply crowded around and took out their Zurn devices and took pictures and videos; within minutes the entire incident could be seen world wide on the Zurn Network.

Everyone watched; everyone talked; until the next day. Then everyone found something else more interesting to watch, to talk about. While Zurn Industries grew silently, the Children of Zurn working in shadow.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Elevator

William entered the elevator, which three others were already sharing. He nodded to them and pushed the button for his floor as the doors slid closed quietly.

The elevator rose swiftly and slowed at the next floor where two of the passengers got off and another got on with a tip of their hat.

The doors closed again and they ascended the next three floors, where the last two of his fellow riders exited, leaving William to himself in the wood paneled lift.

He had never been uneasy inside of elevators, aside from the small queasy feeling in his stomach when they rose and stopped too quickly.

However, for some reason, a creeping feeling came over him, like something, somewhere, was amiss. He looked over his shoulders as if there were someone still in the elevator with him, but he was alone.

As it raised to the next level of the building, the lights at the top of the lift's doors lit up as they reached the next floor.

The light on Williams' floor lit up, but the elevator did not stop.

He pressed the lit button on the panel for his floor but to no avail as the elevator continued to rise rapidly.

Panic came over him quickly as it neared the topmost floor at a great speed and he frantically pressed the emergency stop button. But that too did nothing.

The light on the ceiling began to flutter as William felt the speed of the lift somehow increase, and he back himself into the corner, holding onto the railings with a vice grip. The entire unit began to shake and rattle with speed. William began to scream.

He did not know how long it went on for, an impossible amount of time it seemed; when, the flickering lights, the shaking, the speed, all stopped.

There was no lurching of the sudden cease of movement, everything just instantly went back to normal.

William, who was crouched on the floor in the corner, stood up slowly and the indicator bell dinged. The light on his floor lit up again and the doors slid casually open.

He stepped gingerly out into the hallway; his hallway. The elevator doors began to slide shut so he stepped fully out as he looked around. Everything seemed normal.

As he walked to his apartment he looked back at the elevator. Its closed steel doors standing like a menacing monolith with a dark crack down its center.

He was going to take the stairs from now on, he thought to himself as he took out the keys to open his door. But when he brought them up to the lock, he saw that there was no keyhole. It had been replaced by a flat, silver panel. He tried the hooked handle but it did not budge.

Confused, William looked around at all the doors along the hallway. They all had the same flat panels instead of keyhole locks.

Maybe the elevator had brought him to a different floor after all, but which?

He started for the stairwell at the other end of the hall and, with a look back at the elevator, began to run. Slamming the stairwell door open, he sped down the steps.

As he made his way down, he counted the floors he descended, and when he had reached the ground level it would seem that he had been on his own floor. But what had happened to it?

He pushed on the door leading to the lobby and it swung open into a marble atrium with a fountain and a concierge desk that had not been there before.

The lobby was filled with people in odd clothing, carrying luggage, with bellhops helping them to the elevator at the far end of the high ceiling room.

Some that were closest to him turned to stare at William as he came to a startled halt.

What were all these people doing in his building? This was no hotel.

The young woman behind the desk turned her attention to William and started to ask him if he was in need of any assistance, but he began to push his way through the crowd, making his way to the revolving doors of the entrance. The revolving doors that had not been there before either.

He pushed himself through the doors and out into the bright street. There, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The street was abuzz with noise. Strange looking automobiles crowded the road, their honking horns echoing around the buildings that rose, towering above him. Dwarfing his own building, which had been one of the tallest in the city.

A group of young boys moved noisily down the sidewalk toward him, on flat boards with wheels on the bottom. Their hoots and hollers snapped him out of his stare and he moved swiftly to get out of their way as they rolled passed. They all wore tight pants and had long shaggy hair.

He bumped into a newspaper dispenser and he looked down at the picture on the front page inside the glass case. It was an image of a war ravaged city street, with bodies strewn about as others ran blurry passed in terror. It was horrific, but the thing about it that grasped Williams' attention was that it was in colour.

He looked from the gory image slowly to the date at the top right hand corner of the paper.

His head swirled as he looked at the year.

Looking up at the sky as an impossibly massive plane flew loudly above the high reaching buildings William took hold of his head in his hands as he tried to steady himself.

It had be 1951 when he entered the elevator a few short moments ago. It had not taken him six floors up, but rather it had carried him six decades, into the future.

The small figure of William on the city sidewalk yelled out in terror and fell to his knees as others just passed him by; another poor, unfortunate victim of modern society, they think as they hurry along their busy way.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Farewell Spaceman

They had explored three fourths of the grid without finding anything more interesting that a rock or two that might have had a minute trace of mineral deposit, but not much else.

The search was slow going in the cumbersome suits, but neither Roger nor Harold minded. For, anytime the monotonous movement in the sifting through of the ashen gray dirt became wearisome, all they would have to do is look up.

Up above them was the inky black sea of space, with its stars shining brightly around the blue globe that was their home; the Earth.

So far away, its constant presence above them reminded the both of them that they were on the surface of the moon; another world. And that thought would re-energize them for hours more.

Harold marked sector 7-I off as 'searched' and they moved on to the next sector; bounding gracefully in the low gravity.

Roger was commenting on a piece that he had picked up which looked to be a meteorite that had impacted with another indigenous rock, when he landed on the ashy surface and kept falling as a sink hole gave way under weight.

A distorted shout came through Harold's helmet intercom and he looked over to see his partner disappearing into an enveloping hole.

He moved cautiously to where the opening seemed to stop and peered down into the darkness, calling out to Roger over the radio. After a few moments of tense silence, Roger responded that he was alright and had only got the wind knocked out of him.

The lights from his helmet flashed up at Harold so he could see that it was not a very deep hole. However, Roger said that it opened up into a cavernous tunnel that went on for some ways under the surface.

After an argument on the proper protocol, Harold used his jet thrusters to lower himself gingerly down to join his partner and then he could see that Roger had been right. It was quite a cavernous space with arched stalagmites and stalactites hanging and reaching from the floor and ceiling

They walked around the stone pillars, noting they must have been form eons before as they were now completely dry of any moisture that had formed them.

The large cave seemed to have a flow to its layout and it led them to the far end of the massive open area to where it narrowed into an alcove. Taking up most of the alcove was a big slab of ancient stone that seemed to be both naturally occurring and somehow, sculpted.

Harold dusted the surface of the top of the slab off and roger gasped with surprise.

Around the rim of the big 'table top' object, there was the straight line of a crack, only it was too level to be natural. It ran the length of the rectangular slab a hand's span from the top. Harold ran his gloved finger along its groove and traced it around the circumference.

They both stood back in silence and stared at the stone altar until Roger said that they should try to open it.

After another discussion about the unknown microbes that could be laying in wait under the lid, it was decided that their suits' filtration system would have to suffice as protection.

They both positioned themselves to push on the right end of the 'lid' and on the count of three, gave a mighty heave.

Expecting much more resistance, the two astronauts were caught off balance when the top slab moved easily to the side and a cloud of dust erupted from within.

Unable to see in the upturned cloud, they backed away trying to wave away the ancient partials that threatened to clog their helmets' filters.

The dust settled slowly and after a few moments they looked to the alter-like stone, its top laying askew across its opening.

And in front of it, standing before them, was a tall, cape-clad figure.

Roger and Harold gawked in awed shock as the figure flourished their long, black cape from around their hidden face to revile a pale, handsome man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit.

The tall man looked from Roger to Harold in their white space suits, himself not protected from the zero atmosphere by anything but his black, vested suit, and smiled a toothy grin. A sharp, toothy grin.

Good evening, gentlemen.” He said with a thick accent. “Allow me to thank you for waking me from my long slumber.”

Harold looked from the man to Roger, whom did the same; the shock mirrored on each others' face.

Dracula.” Roger whispered.

Oh the moon.” Harold stammered as the cape fluttered and all became black.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Wolf Pearl

Deep within the cavern the soft glow beckoned to him. As it did each night.

He had sought out the cavern, and the treasure hidden inside it's far reaching chasm, long ago and its pull on him had never diminished. In fact it had an iron grip on his heart; his very soul.

Each night he would come to the cave, laying amidst the tangled & gnarled forest, and sit in the dark in his ragged clothes to stare at its beauty. The milky surface of his precious treasure reflecting the faint moonlight that crept in to the cave's jagged opening.

The light of which glowed in his once green eyes, now a milky gray to match that of his treasure.

Everyday when the sun's rays warmed the world, he would stumble to the little village that lay on the edge of the great wood, where the townsfolk would treat him like a dirty, barefoot beggar, shunning him as they went about their daily chores hurriedly before the night came again.

He had once been a well kept and handsome man, but in the years since he arrived in the tiny village of thatched roofed houses, seeking the treasure he had heard tell about, his desire to maintain himself diminished as his desire to be near it's warming glow each night grew, until it was all that consumed him.

For the treasure he sought was cursed, and just to look upon its beauty was to be ensnared in its spell.

Once in its grip he was its slave, and each full moon, when the lunar light was reflected in full off its surface, he would be transformed into a wild beast. Part man, part animal he would terrorize the inhabitants of the village, slaughtering their livestock or anyone that was foolish enough to be out after the day's protecting light faded into night.

So it had been for many years, so that none ventured into the forest that was said to hold a treasure beyond measure. Until some foolish adventurer came to seek its glory, only to be cursed to live as its guardian.

He had become the new protector of the cave and its ancient treasure. Neither able to take the massive milky white orb from its cradle in the dark cavern, or leave its grip, until the next came to take his place. Come to try to take the Wolf Pearl.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


John walked from his work along the crowded sidewalk; lost in his thoughts of his current project he looked up at the tall skyscrapers that lined the city street.

Out of one of the high windows on the left, a person leapt and floated gracefully down to a casual landing amongst the other pedestrians; no one noticed.

Another finished their conversation with fellow co-workers as they exited their office buildings and leapt into the air, flying off with a friendly wave.

Someone rushed along the street in a blur, moving in and out of the vehicles as if they stood still. Another still, flashed in and out of sight, seemingly into thin air, then back again a block or so further along.

It had all become common place, no one seemed mind, or even to care.

John could not stand it.

When people talked of how they could lift hundreds of times their own weight, see through solid objects, take on the form of anything they thought of, or even that they had the power to climb walls like some creeping insect, he would nod and smile politely, pretending he was interested.

They would asked him what he could do, and he only said he did not like to talk about it, they would not push the issue; some powers were very private in nature, but really they were to absorbed in their own selves to care much.

However, the fact was, John did not have any powers. He might have been the only person on the planet now that did not have at least one super power; he had to do more research into it.

When all of the world woke up one day and suddenly found that they had miraculously gained superhuman abilities, John had just woke up tired from a late night in his lab.

There were of course those that had tried to use their new found gifts for the usual greedy, evil purposes. However, when they found that there were just as many that had chosen to use their powers to stop evil, well the whole battle between good and evil became an epic spectator's sport. Complete with leagues, as a matter of fact.

But John stayed out of that nonsense. He kept on with his work and patiently waited.

Worked and waited. Until he came up with the solution to his problem.

For you see, giving the entire world super powers by accident was easy. Reversing what he had done was proving to be a more difficult project.

But John was a hard worker, and did have the ability to be very, very patient.

Monday, March 14, 2011


Through the empty streets he runs. The empty streets of the empty city. Tall buildings looming over him as he runs; a small figure against their towering size.

Glancing over his shoulder as he runs he sees no one, but keeps running; running from him.

The ground shakes and he stumbles to keep his balance; windows of the high rising buildings shake and shatter with the vibration. Glass falls around him but he keeps running as he dodges huge shards that explode hitting the ground.

He cannot stop; if he stops, it will all be over; he will destroy him.

Through the streets he races on, running around and over abandoned cars as the ground shakes and heaves; trying to slow his escape, but he determinedly keeps on moving.

Concrete and steel start to fall in great chucks along with the sheets of glass from the tops of the buildings as they begin to crumble down; a voice shouts out for him.

Looking back he sees another small figure far down the long street he had just run along.

No features can be seen, but he knows him on sight; he who has pursued him all his life; he who would not stop; he who would destroy him.

As the other figure shouts out for him again, the ground shakes anew and more buildings start to crumble and crash down, smashing the cars and lamp posts he passes mere seconds before.

The city core ends as he runs on and comes to a far spanning bridge, crossing over a large valley where the multiple lanes of a highway runs along side a winding river.

His chest burns as he races on to the wide bridge, bordered by high reaching wire cables, strung tight to hold the weight of the massive bridge.

Along the middle of the yellow lined road he runs, and the other figure walks deliberately behind him, the city's buildings falling down around him as his earth shaking yell calls out.

In the middle of the bridge, the lone figure slows and stops his run; panting he puts his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. He could run no longer; he would not. He would face his pursuer; face his destiny.

Turning, he stands up to the approaching figure as he steps onto the bridge. Their eyes meet; the same eyes; the same face. Mirror images.

Both outstretch their arms to the side as the thick cables of the bridge begin to waver. Cracks in the road split in jagged lines as the two figures yell with hatred and anger.

From far off the two look tiny on the massive structure that swings back and forth high above the valley as huge pieces fall off, splashing into the river bellow and smashing onto the roadway.

As they rage at each other, the bridge begins to break off from the edges of the sloping ground. More pieces fall as the bridge lifts into the air, the two men stepping forward, toward each other heavy-footed as the noise of their shouts is drown out by the ripping sounds of the steel support girders as they are rend apart from the solid ground.

Higher the bridge lifts as they continue to raise their arms up, until they are directly above their heads.

And then, as they both sense each others' next move, the two drop their arms and dash towards each other. The bridge, a full thousand meters in the sky, drops as suddenly as their arms.

As they run to each other, they scream out one another's name; the same name. And as they near each other bridge hurdles down toward the ground below.

When only a few meters separate the two, they both jump into the air with their fists clenched and pulled back to strike.

In the silence before their devastating blows land, the bridge smashes down upon the earth, erupting in a cloud of dust and debris that covers everything for miles around.

The dust slowly settles. Through the mists, in amongst the heaps of rubble, stripped wire cables laying gnarled and twisted, one figure stands atop a great hunk of concrete, looking down at his unclenched hands.

The only one there ever was. Me.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Little Memories

Little memories came to her, like remnants of past dreams flashing in her mind.

She lay on her back, the feeling of the ground beneath her, coming up slowly around her as the blue of the sky faded into view.

She watched with her mind's eye; memories of her childhood came to her. Licking the juices off her chin from a sticky sweet popsicle on a hot summer's day; the wind blowing through her hair as she glided along on her bicycle, passing lush, leafy trees that lined a dirt country road.

And then an electrical flash and a room amassed with computerized machinery and wires filled her vision.

She shut her eyes to the memory and tried to get back to another of her running through a field of wild flowers. The yellow pedals tickled the palms of her hands as she walked through the meadow; sweet breeze blowing softly on her smiling face.

Electricity ran through her again and the pain jolted her back to the room filled with machines. Faces of men standing above her with faces silhouetted; staring down at her with probing eyes that reflected light from the machines' glow.

Another shock and she was back laying on the ground, staring up at the sky, its blue hue dotted with the soft whiteness of clouds.

A muffled thumping sounded in her ears as she tried to move her head to see where the approaching noise was coming from.

Hazily, out of the corner of her vision a man came into view; his face shadowed by the sun's back light. His eyes reflected the bright day light and she felt a shock course through her body as she realized it was one of the same men from her memory.

He spoke kindly to her but she could not understand, his words garbled in her ears sounded far away. She tried to push herself away as he leaned in closer but she could not move. His hands moved towards her, passed her head, and then she felt a surge of energy pulsate for a moment then drain from her.

The sky began to drain away; her memories drained away. She could feel herself draining away until everything faded into darkness.

The man crouched down beside the slender woman that lay on the well kept grass, her limp body clothed only in clinical gown. Inspecting her bare arms and legs, cuts marred her fair skin, exposing not flesh but slivers of wires, clear and gray.

He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and touched her soft cheek tenderly. Gently he moved her head to the side and sighed as he saw the exposed circuits and wires inside the gash above her ear.

Her empty eyes stared out toward the tall glass building that stood a few dozen meters away. One of the seamless windows was smashed out a the top and a few figures in white lab coats looked down from inside the broken glass.

The man on the ground beside the woman looked back to the others joining him as they hurried out of the building's big front doors. They slowed as they approached and the couching man shook his head.

“The memories were too much.” he said with disappointment in his voice and the others rubbed their chins and heads as they pondered, looking from the girl on the ground to the broken out window high above.

The man straighten her head and looked into the robot's light-less eyes, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “But we'll fix you.” he said softly to her. “We'll make you perfect.”

Monday, January 24, 2011


Standing in the shadow of the doorway, he hesitated before he moved out onto the balcony. His long cape hung from his shoulders, touching the stone floor, covering the rest of his body in blackness.

He had always felt safe wrapped in his luxurious cape; confident. No harm would come to him while en-wrapped within.

But now he felt a twinge of uncertainty. Not fear or any sense of danger, but a strange feeling that if he stepped out onto the balcony of the high tower which overlooked the great courtyard filled with his armies; all waiting for him to send them forth against his enemies, that he would become someone else.

It was an absurd thought, but it caused him to pause just out of sight, in the dark alcove of the arched doorway. What if he stepped through the archway and disappeared?

No, not disappear, but became someone else. The same, but slightly different. He ran his fingers thoughtfully against his softly bearded face.

He had conquered nations with his might; using his armies and magic to destroy all those that had stood in his way. However, had it all be real?

The thought came to him from somewhere else. It did not feel like his own, but he had had it and it was now filling his mind like darkness.

Of course it had been real. He had watched as cities crumbled; seen kings bow down before him in fear; heard them begging for mercy. Those memories were his and they had happened.

The remembered cries of his fallen enemies turned into the raising chant of his armies outside; calling for their leader to command them; calling for him.

He shook himself from the fanciful thought and straighten his head proudly. With a sneering smirk he flung his cape back from around his arms and stepped out into the light of the balcony.

Stepping out onto the ship's deck he stopped and looked around at his surroundings. He stood on the creaking wooden planks of the big ship, the noise of the water lapping up against its bow, as it lumbered along the deep blue waves of the sea; steady rocking as familiar to his feet as the salty air was in his nostrils.

The crew hustled about their duties nodding to him as he looked from man to man; ensuring that they were the familiar faces of his crew.

He did not no why they should not be. But for a brief moment he had had a thought that when he had stepped through the cabin door, it would not have been his ship he would have walked onto.

A silly thought, he snorted as he began to pace the deck, his wooden leg clomping along with its familiar rhythm. But still, he had a feeling of uncertainty.

What if when he went back through his cabin door, and he wasn't who is was anymore?

Saturday, January 15, 2011


Gerald could feel it. He could feel himself getting stronger, just as he had wanted. He had wished for it and it was happening.

As he stood in the little open area of the woods, surrounded by big, thickly-trunked trees, he could feel himself changing.

It was coming from all around; all pouring into him, power filling him entirely. Just as he had asked. With the power came a great joy that caused him to smile broadly and laugh out loud.

What luck to happen upon this secret area of the wood, untouched for so long, and to find the means to bring his wildest hopes and desires come true.

As he laughed with delight, he felt everything around him laugh as well. He could feel himself growing; swelling with the power he was receiving.

He tried to take a step but found he could not. He looked down and saw he was rooted to the ground. He still smiled but his laughter faded as he looked closer and saw that he was not actually rooted to the ground, but sinking into it.

The power kept filling him, but the joy he had felt slipped away and was replaced by panic as the ground opened more to consume him.

Gerald looked frantically around at the trees for something to grab a hold of, but found nothing. But then saw what he had forgotten, the little wood imp he had chased and caught. Still standing on the mossy stump with its little green cap sitting slightly askew on its knotty head.

It smiled and laughed as Gerald called out to it for help.

“Oh,” it sung in a mischievous voice. “But this is what you wished for, my lad.” it did a little jig and clapped its hands as Gerald sunk deeper into the earth.

Gerald could feel himself growing hot with the power that filled him. Too hot. He burnt the grass and ground where he sank. What was happening to him?

He felt apart of everything but somehow it all felt wrong; too hot to be right.

“What have you done to me?” Gerald screamed at the gleeful imp dancing upon the stump. He became closer to the ground and he could feel his body below disappearing into...

He screamed out and it shook the ground, the trees, the entire wood, everything around for miles with power.

The wood imp stopped dancing as Gerald tried to hold on to the surface that was slowly enveloping him. It stared with a sly smile on its gnarled face.

“Why I granted your wish, sonny.” its voice was mockingly chipper. “Your wish to become the most powerful thing in the world.”

Gerald screamed out again as he melted into the earth's crust, disappearing into the deep chasm that had opened up for him. His scream turning into a rumble as he flowed down, to join with the sea of molten lava that the surface of the planet rested on. Becoming one with it, all the way to the very core itself. Becoming what he had wished for; becoming the most powerful thing in the world.