short story
Somebody Threw It
Somebody Threw It by: Dennis R. Humphreys There was biological warfare during the middle ages. It just wasn't called that back then. Get the diseased body, the one with the plague, put it on the catapult and heave it over the castle walls. If the fear of getting the plague out paced the fear of being slaughtered by the attacking forces than the drawbridge was dropped and the attacking army entered the castle. This more than anything probably contributed to the spread of the disease, for there were so many factions and various feudal entities at war with each other, and each lord wanting what the other had in an effort to become bigger, stronger and more powerful than the next, they constantly were waging war of some kind and size. It was easier to do this and starve them out than to lose your men in a direct attack or spend a lot of time waiting. Greedy people are impatient people.
By Dennis Humphreys4 years ago in Earth
Primitive man in a technological age
Primitive man in a technological age In the past, I loved my “dumb” phone and as I watched my friends and people in general drown out their phones, get addicted to their small screens, and increasingly neglect the world around them, I began to develop a kind of resentment toward smartphones . Yes, I know that smartphones are not responsible for our collective mental escape from reality ( escaping from reality is a natural reaction sometimes to an unbearable reality ), but when you as a human begin to compete with smartphones to get the attention and interaction of people around you it is hard not to curse that machine small.
By Salah eddine Sedraoui4 years ago in Earth
September's Palette
Black was the sky when the day began its slow crawl towards night. Black was the blanket that twisted and knotted itself around my shivering husk as I slept. Black was the car that I sought refuge in, sleeping inside of to shelter myself from the biting winds of the highlands of Wyoming’s unforgiving wilderness. There was a beautiful calmness in the air; I remember that. Though I slept very little, and my back was as twisted and bent as the blanket was that covered me, I felt little other than calmness and the quietness of the morning. Stepping out of my car only briefly to unfurl my twisted legs, I was met with a harsh gust of wind that woke me up better than any cup of coffee could. The soft blue glow of my watch read 4:26. Good morning. I returned to my car and began driving, leaving behind my little patch of dirt that served as a good and stable home for the night. Black was the abyss of the night that pushed back against my headlights as I drove on. Black was the hauntingly vast sky above, and black was the road that stretched on and on below me. I drove for hours through this empty, starless galaxy. No moon guided me, and no stars flickered above me. Through blackness, I cut and fought forward, and through emptiness, I voyaged on. What was once open flatland soon became a mountainous terrain. The road rose and fell through the mountain ranges, as though I was a lonely black ship on a dark and haunted ocean. I felt as though I was being swallowed up; my car a lump of coal, the world before me a large and lightless fire. I drove on through the night as the glow of my watch showed time marching on and on and on. Good morning, my dear sweet Wyoming. I praise what I have been granted to see: September’s beautiful palette.
By Joshua Grady4 years ago in Earth
Beginning of Week 3
Well a lot has been going on. From time to time, I like to take a run to the outside of town and enjoy the peace and quiet. Lately, that has not been very helpful. My mind is racing and my heart is far from the place of peace I use to find out there. The breeze and the horses and the grass; none of it feels the same. I know that in reality, things will never be the same, but that is all I long for. I want her back and I want these last two weeks to not have happened at all.
By Piper Curran4 years ago in Earth
The Red, Blue, and Yellow Plane
“Hey chief, where have you been flying these days?” Dawn spoke on the landline to her former coworker. Dawn, a woman in her seventies, retired years ago. “Remember when you gave me the one-time pass to borrow a plane, no questions asked? Remember when I said I’ll never ask for that? Tomorrow night I need five of the biggest planes from Earth Airlines, and I could use some help flying them.”
By Sone Kramer4 years ago in Earth
The Sacred Scroll
Kayleb could start to feel his dark blonde hair start to go slick with oil and sweat. His brain was now foggy with the humidity in the amazon air, water drops clinging to the silvery moustache that had began to grow on his upper lip. The cave was dark, damp, had an earthy smell to it like iron. He had read about the caves in the amazon before, dreamed about coming here and exploring them since his childhood. There had been traces of a humans living in these caves long ago , enticing his mind with what had once been. He had studied them extensively , digging up every article he could on them. The animals of the rainforest drew him to the chase, especially the Scarlett Maccaw. He had revelled in it's beauty - and what it had symbolized , bringing healing through it's colour and light.
By Dawn Michele4 years ago in Earth
A Visit from Scarlet
For someone who has been called “the most indecisive person” by almost all who are close to me, I have always been set on becoming a therapist. Sure enough, it has turned out to be the most rewarding decision of my life. Every day I sit with new people from all walks of life, none of which are like the last, and hear entire life stories from the original source. I get to witness first-hand how their mind works, how they think and form thoughts, and how they communicate those thoughts to me. Though I love it dearly, it’s unfortunately not all rainbows and butterflies. It can be quite taxing to hear of all the troubles people face each day, and it takes years of training and mental exercise to leave those thoughts at work, so it doesn’t affect your own life and happiness. That being said, there are some stories that are just too sad, that are just too depressing, that no matter how much training you have, you can’t seem to forget. For me, I will never forget the story of Scarlet.
By Nate Donlan4 years ago in Earth
Notion
Come and take a walk with me? Allow yourself to drift and wander a little, beyond the stories that we usually and so frequently tell ourselves. We’ll soften the resistance as we go, blurring and blending the once rigid vicinities of your mind. I wonder what will seep in through the emergence of new cracks in your perception, now that they are not so cautiously guarded. Why do we defend ourselves, in order to stay active within a story that we would not have chosen to write for ourselves, do we have a choice? That’s just reality right? Sure, it’s nice to see, hear, smell, taste and touch... but how do you really want to feel?
By Astral Skiies4 years ago in Earth
