When I was 12, I went to sea. I went to sea to see the sea. I had yet to see the sea until I was 12. Then the sea I saw, and the sea, she saw me.
We hated each other.
I had romanticized the sea, reading stories and poetry and all the great paintings of roiling waves and citrus sunsets, and salty captains and scruffy sea dogs. It got so I could smell the sea without having smelled the sea. And I couldn't wait to see the sea. So I went.
The sea, she was not pleasant that...
I hid behind the low, green trees. Gunshots scream as the team squatted behind the sandstone houses. 'RUN!' The chief yelled. I turn and sprint, confused. Then I hear it. We won. The sound of the biggest bomb i've ever heard beamed. My body went cold. The ground shattered underneath my toes. I see red from behind the houses. We won. Jumping in the back of the truck, hearing water and crashing objects. The feeling missing something appears. We counted the soldiers. 3 missing. We lost.
Two men entered, wearing respiratory masks. They came over to the register and looked at Martin, who just looked back in disbelieve. "What's with the masks?" The two men walked around the counter. "Hey, look, I don't work here. Nobody is here, I don't know where everyone is. This might sound crazy, but what year is it? Where am I?" The two men grabbed Martin by his arms and started dragging him outside. "Wait! Stop! Talk to me, please!" The two men ignored him. Outside, there was a parked van. The side doors opened, and another masked was waiting inside....
Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. I had to get out of the Martian prison and home for the past six years. John, the guard bribed to allow me to escape and take secrets stored in memories I could expose back on Earth.
A ship was scheduled the next day which would take me on the long journey home but modern technological advances meant I would get back to London sixteen hours later.
I regretted leaving behind my friends, knowing their fate but someone had to expose the lies about the great new...
'Where the bloody hell are you?' asked Colin as I picked up the phone. 'I've been calling all day. I'm with John and Sarah at the pub, we're waiting for you.'
'Don't you dare speak to me like that Col, I'm fed up of it. Why do you think I'm not answering.' Then I let him have it. Months of frustration at his obsessive calls, controlling nature and his habit of always turning up wherever or whoever I was with. On a first date....that didn't put Col off. He'd try and sit down with us. Making love early in the...
then the cold
A wet cold that moves through you that clings to your insides
A cold that whispers soft and true
_You will never be warm
Smile and huddle and see that here too in this fog, this unrelenting mist that covers everything
Here too is warmth, here too is a God
We were to meet in the gallery. The glass one, stone fronted with tiles. It is an old place, no longer fashionable. It looks out onto a street where buses no longer run and rubble fills the roads. He said he had a message to give me. The way it was said, it did not imply that the message was from him, but only that he was a messenger, of the most unwilling kind. What inconvenience it must cause you, I might have argued, to have to meet up with me in such way. What a task your people as...
Nicky crouched, letting sand dribble through her fist. If only the sand were falling through the hour glass instead, the time for departure drawing closer one grain at a time. The water was almost flat, small wave rolling onto the shore.
"Why can't we leave?" She asked without looking back. A sigh and a rustle of sand and clothing.
"Red sky at night, sailor's delight," Dirk answered, letting the rest of it go unsaid.
Nicky grumbled, dropped the rest of the sand and stood. "Why do they hold everything up for an old saying?" Just above the high tide mark...
Outnumbered and out of breath, I didn't know what else to do. The lives that had already been taken now stained my guilt and I didn't need more blood on my mind. So, the white flag of surrender went up and the terms were made.
Our youngest children were to be taken from us and trained to keep their families in check. We were to only have children if the king commanded to. Oh, and we were no longer able to choose our mates.
The children were brainwashed to believe that their mothers were evil witches sent to destroy the...