Just three little snippets, 1/3 the size of my normal pieces
(more…)Tag: writing
The Witch and The Beast
Philea coughs, trips, and lands harshly in the dirt of the road. She pulls herself up a branch of a nearby tree and stumbles forward. Her destination lies down the road, the light of torches just barely visible from where she falters.
“Thebes…” she barely groans out, before a heavy and oppressive weight pins her to the tree. A massive lion’s paw pressing on her throat and ribs, threatening her last breath.
A woman’s head inches closer to Philea’s face. Her long black hair frames Philea’s face as she stretches open a long, toothy grin. The head was the size of Philea’s torso, and the mouth was mostly canines and fangs.
A heavy breath escapes the creature’s lungs, smelling of sickly sweet rot and copper. “What speaks with one voice, walks on four legs…are you…are you paying attention?” The creature lets up the pressure of her lion’s paw. Even if the woman escapes from the beast’s grasp, she still could have pounced on her, ripped from nape to flank…but the Sphinx was curious.
“Woman…why do you burn so much? Your skin feels like fire upon my paws. Your eyes are glassing over…”
Philea’s fear gives way to a bloody cough upon the Sphinx’s paw and then she passes out. Instinctively the beast catches her, more gently than she knew she could be.
“In a way…I guess that is an answer of sorts.” The Sphinx goes to bite the neck of the unconscious woman in front of her and drag her back to the cave, but then she remembers that mortals don’t have that soft patch of excess skin to grab onto. So instead she wrapped the stranger in her front right paw and walked on three legs toward her cave.
(more…)Xandros
Xandros smells the scent of salt and brine wafting through the stone passage, as he and his fellow soldiers work their way deeper into the temple.
To his left, Theron drops his torch. “Fuck.”
Xandros notices the young boy’s hands shaking as sweat drips down the back of his neck. Same age as Xandros’ sister. Sending dregs to handle this monster.
Xandros picks up Theron’s torch and hands it back to him. “Get your shit together. Your brothers are depending on you. Act like it.”
The band of soldiers makes its way from the thin passage into a grand hall filled with statuary. Each recess in the wall has its own heroic figure, but through the middle of the floor are dozens of scared, running effigies.
Otus, who trained with Xandros when they both first joined, says, “I…I know this man.” He reaches to touch the face of one of the figures. “He was my neighbor…”
“Shape up, soldier. We do not have the luxury of distractions.”
Xandros continues to lead them deeper into the hall, weaving past the statues. The sounds of leather sandals slapping stone, of metal hitting metal, echo throughout the wide walls.
Except…the footsteps sound too quiet. Xandros notices that he should be hearing 5 pairs of footsteps, but one is missing.
(more…)Utility
There’s a jostle as I go over a rough patch of the track. The magnetic grip of my boots keeps me locked in as I hurdle alone to the managerial living quarters. Visited once to have dinner with the boss. Brought my daughter Bebe too. Coop wasn’t old enough. Fingers crossed the boss isn’t home today.
I need to get Bebe and Coop out of this place. None of this was worth a single damn if I can’t get them on solid ground again. Bebe’s birth was the happiest day of my life. Coop’s birth was alright too. I chuckle lightly to myself.
Gregor came here from Earth, said that the place is fine for kids if they still have family, but being in the system, it’s just too dangerous. I have to go with them. Can’t trust anyone else on this rock to look after them, not after the things he mentioned.
A few weeks ago, maybe a little over a month, we got the news. Some have been working extra hard hoping it will buy them salvation, but almost everyone else gave up in their own ways. Maybe if photos of the number of self-airlocked bodies were released on Earth it could change something. Even a story about how it complicated the relocation of management could put a dent in public opinion. I hope. I don’t know anymore, to be honest.
Ceres Mining went belly up. A blight ripped through the monocrop in the third greenhouse, and lax decontamination protocols took out the sixth and eighth ones too. The added cost of emergency rations and oxygen tanked the whole operation and the only way forward was to sell. We were told, and I have no way of confirming, that the higher-ups negotiated down the buyout if the buyers would help ferry out some of the crew.
Our boss brought us all into the warehouse, told us in person. He could have sent it through the messenger, let us read it ourselves. But he faced us.
He was one of the better bosses on the rock.
But he had a way out, and we didn’t.
His family or mine.
(more…)Brewed Awakenings Excerpt 4
Still working on the first draft of Brewed Awakenings. I will return to posting short stories January 15th. Until then, please enjoy these humorous excerpts from my novel about coffee that makes people disappear.
Eyes are the windows to the soul. This phrase is what we call a metaphor. Eyes are not literally the windows to the soul, as they don’t actually show you the inside of a soul, or allow a soul to see outside the body. However, metaphorically, they do allow others to see what you are thinking and feeling, and therefore get a brief glimpse into the inner workings of your mind.
Buildings actually have windows, and in a way, they function as the eyes of the structure. This is also a metaphor. If you look to the windows you can see what is going on inside, just like you can get a glimpse of what is going on inside someone’s soul through peering into their eyes.
Buildings actually function a lot like people, beyond just the unsettling similarities between eyes and windows, peering and watching.
Stephen Hemmer Fiction 