Search

Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.

Tag

Sci-fi

Loverman Chapter 4 ‘Let love in’

Bonjour,

Sort of rushing because I’m totally consumed working on Diana, reaching completion. I almost completely forgot about blogging and proofreading other stuff. All my attention is on that right now and it really has to be.

All other stuff is taking a backseat right now until that is done and dusted and as near as perfect as possible until it can fly off to some cold hearted person to shit on.

Ok so that’s all you’re getting and haha, sorry about that but this really is important, this could be it and it needs all my energy and time and love and effort.

See you…

I felt the room grow darker and the air heavier as if the room were sinking into an inky black abyss.

 

Jorge leapt from his corner and gripped the writhing tattered figure with his huge brawny arms as Ericcson howled and cried “They were always there waiting! They’ll come for you as they came for me!”

 

Jorge seemed to struggle to keep the much smaller man in place and as I watched in horror I saw odd depressions on his dark skin as if he fought against some invisible colossus and then came an ungodly cracking noise and his arms twisted and snapped back as if he were an insect in the hands of some veracious child.

 

Then I saw Avery, his face drawn in silent horror, his eyes locked on the scene of the large Indian fighting with this invisible force, fumbling blindly in the drawer of his desk.

 

Another hideous cracking noise, sending spurts of blood and vile smelling marrow across the room, hot and viscous as it was, Jorge’s deep booming cries growing louder and then muffled and high pitch and shrill like an animals. I tore my hands from my face glued as they were by sheer fright and I saw his head squeezed as if through shrink wrap, compressed and then pop like a watermelon dropped from ten stories. The rest of his limbs spasmsing with some electric impulse, torn asunder by the invisible tendrils.

 

Avery, his aphable bearded face was white as a sheet and his hand was ever whiter as it gripped the handle of a pistol he aimed in the general direction of Ericcson firing wildly and hitting only the walls of his tiny office and me in my gut, the burning pain seering my flesh like a hot iron.

 

Then his hand was gripped by some unseen impulse and it was snapped as if it was a twig, the bone protruding out of the skin, his heart beating fast pumping out tiny spurts of dark red blood over his desk as he coughed and hiccuped the gun dropping into my lap glazed in a warm sheen of his vital fluids.

 

I fumbled the thing frantically with one arm, the other to stem the bleeding from my wound. The gun was hot and wet and I’d never even seen one outside of a film before let alone handled or fired such a thing. I gripped it in both hands and tried to make it hold still but for it’s incessant shaking in my boney fingers. I squeezed it aiming at the mass of opalescent tendrils stretching out from Ericcson and he vomited the vile things into this world.

 

Avery eyes bulged out of his skull as the invisible arms squeezed him, the veins in his face growing long and distended and then bursting, the blood of which seeping into his clothes.

 

I squeezed the trigger as hard as I could but it felt hot and slippery in my hands and it wouldn’t stay still, I had to fight the thing to stay straight and will the trigger to fire and the hammer to fall and when it did there was only a distinct pinching sensation around my neck and then blackness.

 

Only a feeling of falling, an emptiness, a deep black nothingness, tumbling forever and then a light, a horrible light and a screaming which could only have been my own but seemed to be that of a babies first, a new birth, a new horrible world born before me as I opened my eyes.

Read the rest on inkitt.

Let love in

Loverman Chapter 1 ‘Paint a vulgar picture’

Ok truthfully just desperate for content at this point and not really feeling up to starting Diana two, I dunno, I just feel kind of drained creatively, might be something to do with my sleep patterns but I don’t feel super pumped about it. And I don’t wanna start anything unless I’m ready to start it. So I’m just back in the trenches finishing this off, which is one of the stories I started and sort of abandoned when I lost focus of where it was going.

I think I literally abandoned this story to write the first Diana so I’m kind of hoping for that to happen again, just to be writing this not really knowing where I’m going then boom get hit the lightning bolt again.

I didn’t abandon this because it was shit, I just kind of lost my place because this is a story I didn’t write out a really detailed plan for, now I write out these really detailed chapter breakdowns I almost never look at but they’re there in my brain. But for this it was sort of up in the air and I can’t really place, I’m not sure what I was doing with it so it’s harder to keep pace on it.

Just trying to keep my mind busy so I don’t go insane, kind of ironic considering the subject matter. I do love Lovecraft but I dunno it feels sort of hollow copying him or trying to make it into a marvel haha. I dunno, it just doesn’t get my blood pumping as much as Cur did, well I don’t anything could get my blood pumping as much as Cur did. Too soon for a sequel to that but I should start work on a plan for it at least, the plan for Diana two was finished ages ago, I just might want to go over it again.

In other news really enjoying the latest Parker book it sort of starts off as a normal Parker book and slowly escalated into an all out war bringing back some of the best characters from the series, even one from the fucking dead haha. I tried finding info on this but I could swear this one character died in a previous book this books references and I went back and sure enough, he’s dead as a doornail, I guess Westlake just forgot haha. Which is so weird because of how he seems so good and keeping all these characters alive in his universe. To miss bringing a guy back from the dead haha. Maybe it was a different Ed Mackey with the same wife haha. I dunno, I’ll give it a pass, he is a cool character.
Also so stupidly excited about this but I managed to track down and pirate all the conan, shadow and solomon kane pulps and I can’t wait to read them. So I’m gonna be knee deep in like 1920’s era pulp fiction for a while, should be really fun and inspiring. I can’t wait to get into it.

Anyhoo, hours a waining and I need to do some proof reading, wasted too much time already setting up the Loverman Inkitt page for you to mosey on over to.

See you…

On recollection of that singularly disgusting building my mind is hesitant to reconstruct the image of the hideous fuchea paint. Which cast over it like a layer of bubbled pink flesh hanging over a rancid rotting skeleton of a building. The colour of which I might imagine of those many chosen people who were exposed to a noteably vile a substance as cyanide gas intended as such for vermin. Their bodies bloated and pink, skin bubbling like that of a suckling pig slowly roasted over an open flame. The bones of the building that of an old English town house, transported brick by brick from such old haunts as Glastonbury. Home to such tails of wicked faeries that would disappear unlucky travellers who might have the poor fortune to rest upon a certain rock deemed sacred to the cruel ironic justice of the fae folk.

 

To this day I have seldom the choice to replay this ‘event’ over and over in my head. As it was this soggy new England morning in maine that I was to lose my grip on the mortal coil for better or worse.

 

It was a notably wet early morning that I was to set foot on the grounds of the Pink Bird mental asylum as it stood in the October of 1994 in the new England town of Presque isle maine.

 

Having graduated from a university of note some years before I was applying for a newly opened position at the facility. I’d hasten to add I had grown irritated at relaying which university I’d graduated from. As it seemed to invoke strange and morbid fascination from anyone that heard the name which is why I refuse to mention the accursedly wicked place even in these notes I scrawl now. Strange rumours dogged it of doctors coming from there possible forty years hence conducting strange research into the reanimation of dead flesh. I had no interest in such study for it was the mind that interested me. It became increasingly more irritating as people seemed to imbue me with vicarious curiosity at the history and rumours that abound said university of which I deem to remain nameless. It’s past neither in my time there nor in my present state interested me at all.

 

That being said I can’t help remarking on my present predicament and wandering if the accursed place had some hand in my misfortune.

 

I approached the building which I had remarked looked like a corpse prepared hastily for an open casket viewing. A make over having possibly taken place in the early seventies had not aged well and as it sat off the beaten track in the back country of new England.

 

The garden was slightly overgrown, the hedges seemed to crawl out and attempt to swallow the narrow path that led from the road. A large bare tree stood in the court before the building reaching up into the slate coloured sky of that misty morning. The colours of the hedges a mix of deep damp greens and autumnal oranges and browns forming a mash of living and dying rott. The smell of which was slightly sweet.

 

I approached the building in an old crysler my mother had left me passing a few years prior. The car was in fairly good condition but wide and maneuvered like that of an old tugg boat on choppy waters. As I wasn’t the most robust figure of a man I was prone to car sickness which made me slightly light headed as the car lurched around the tight oval curve of the main court around that old bare tree with it’s dark grey bark.

 

I parked as near the entrance as I felt was polite as there was no markings of any kind and only one other car parked in a similar fashion. But notably of more refined taste, a dark blue bently with tasteful chrome wheels.

 

I ascended a steep set of slightly damp stone steps to reach a large but ramshackle white wooden door as cracked and creased as the rest of the paint work on the old building. The whole thing looming over my head looked like a sore open wound crawling with unwanted plant life like dry boney fingers peeling at the cracks in the saturated fuschia paint.

 

Taken with some odd ceremony I knocked on the old door and was met with silence and then a dull echoing noise I attributed to the age of the building. But sounded oddly almost like a person sighing deeply or the sound of sawing wood.

 

After getting no response from my peculiar inclination to knock as if it was episode of downtown abbey and I was about to be greeted by some overly verbose woman in a bustiare. I shuddered at the thought and twisted the old rusty doorknob which released a coppery scent and then popped open with a shudder that ripped through the entire frame and an awful creaking scraping noise that went through me like the sound of grinding teeth.

 

“Oh I’m sorry” A young woman said as I almost fell on her through the door as it gave way faster than I thought it might. “I should have warned you about the door, I heard you knocking I was just…”

 

I was taken by her instantly, a beauty of note, her blonde hair tied into a tight but full bun secured in place with what looked like a chopstick. A set of small reading glasses perched on the tip of a short sharp nose below of which rested a set of full pursed lips painted with a muted dark pink lipstick which seemed to match the sparse spackling of light freckles on her cheeks.

 

Her lidded eyes were green and distinctive under neatly plucked eyebrows, perfect eyelashes beating like that of a butterflies wing. Her face a delicate pale canvas of faintly german irish features.

Read the rest of this chapter on inkitt. Paint a vulgar picture

Gage Epilogue ‘Effigy’

Hey hey,

Here goes that experimental nano story I did that kind of didn’t work out how I expected, maybe I should stop trying to write novels in 30 days haha. Eh but I had fun doing it, it was different enough to hold my attention and be fun and for me to actually finish it despite not making the time limit because of work and that I forgot about nano until a few days in haha.

My one fan who read this said he hated the ending because they all die and no, no they don’t this is just satire on how the news lies and it’s all bullshit, kind of the main theme of the story, of course their press will say whatever they want, paint whatever narrative fits them. There are planned sequels but I don’t know when that will come. I need to do a sequel to Diana before I can even think about one for Gage or anything else. The next Diana book is just too juicy to pass up.

Not much been going on as of late, oh yeah it was my birthday haha. Funny seeing all those people I barely know on facebook sending me happy birthday messages and not being able to respond because I’m banned, I guess they’ll think I’m an asshole, eh they’ll probably forget in a year.

Still reading that new Parker book and I haven’t got that far into it but it seems like a return to form; slow plotting methodical story about a heist. Lots of interesting new characters and some old.

I did watch probably the greatest horror movie I’ve seen maybe in a decade last night and I’ll probably do a review of that just to align my thoughts. Because it’s one of those movies that you really need time to unpack. I should watch it again really.

Anywho I’ll leave you with this little epilogue and try to do some real work, going over the editing for Diana. Really hoping to make a jump on that soon.

See you…

 

Further news of this event are not in our record but one news clipping from the New york daily reported as follows;

GRUESOME MASSACRE A TOWN GONE MAD!

CABIN FEVER REACHES PEAK AS SPECIESIST GROUP DESTROYS TOWN AND GOVERNMENT FORCES HAVE TO RESPOND.

Sept 14th

Reports received earlier this week indicate a speciesist riot broke out in a small border town in Arkansas called Tupelo.

Earlier terrorist and anti-government activity has been reported in the area. It seems the gang activity had culminated around the town resulting in chaos and death. Even reports of rape, sodomy and cannibalism as well as predation of children.

The leader of the group one Phineas Gage who has been assumed killed in the resulting bombarbment of the town. Was reported as being a religious fanatic. He followed an outdated and archaic religion that still clings on in parts further away from civilisation. Reports lead us to believe that he was a sexual pervert. Taking many of the townsfolks young daughters and even sons to bed, some as young as eight or nine years old. He was also known to practice polygamy and human sacrifice.

Subsequently a rally will be held. Where upon the dreaded terrorist killed in the event will be burnt in effigy. So as to send a beacon to anyone that would emulate such a repugnant act of defiance. We will burn this traitor to democracy into out memories so as never to forget the aliens killed that day. Our heart goes out to the Cylon and their families who have suffered and who continue to suffer. At the hands of despicable speciesists that continue to persist in our society today.

In a more sombre note a brave attempt by a noble military unit of Lug troops was brutally thwarted by the gang. Who cooked and ate these noble American heroes. Subsequently we believe sodomizing them before and after sacrificing them to their evil god. These brave souls who died protecting their country will never be forgotten. Their noble sacrifice will remain long after their deaths and live on in the heart of the people who carry their memory.

They fought valiantly and will be remembered posthumously in a candle lit vigil in time square late this afternoon. All members of the unit will be posthumously promoted to General 1st class.

Unfortunately their bodies could not be recovered for burial as they were most likely eaten with their remains fed to animals. The resultant bombardment from the Spartan two orbital lazer left very little of the town remaining.

The government issued a statement later that day decreeing that ‘Hate would never win. And all those with hate in their hearts were on the wrong side of history’. A move that has been criticized by many heads of state as drastic and heavy handed. Nevertheless it was met with favourable support from the public after a poll was taken. With a whopping 90% in favour of vaporouzing the small border town and only 9% no and 1% undecided.

Gage Chapter 12 ‘Passover’

Hello hello again,

Greetings on this fine tuesday coming from my shack in the middle of murky nowhere to bring you more weird stories and general musings on life (or the lack thereof).

Been getting on with some decent writing and a lot of slacking off, still trying to get back into the swing of things with the 2k a day word count, not quite managing it but saying that the stuff I’ve been putting out imo isn’t too bad. It’s taking shape, it’s getting there.
Is it as good as the start, I don’t but I’m reaching the tipping point now, the story is peaking and I like the way it’s shaping up.

And tbh I’m looking forward to doing something more silly and fun again, so as soon as I’m done here gonna get straight back into 3 ring for the next instalment of that and then maybe start thinking about a sequel to Diana after dark if the time is ready for that. Been wanting to write that one for a while.

But the moon and the stars have to be aligned for that, it has to be perfect and if you’ve read the book you’d know that is pretty topical haha.

Not that I don’t love writing serious stuff and intense stuff, it’s just a little draining being in that head space constantly, you have no idea how worked up I have to get to write stuff like this. It’s like I meditate but not to get calm and serene but to get the complete opposite. I get so worked up it’s like I’m trying to rip the keys out of my laptop haha.

It just takes up a lot of energy to run that hot, I’m literally trying to make myself feel like I’m in battle flinging a battleaxe into someone’s face haha.

Talking about battleaxes in the faces I haven’t been reading or listening to the witcher much, I just don’t care enough to follow the story honestly, the characters are boring and unlikable and I feel like I was cheated out of the witcher series I should’ve have gotten. I keep lamenting to my polish buddy at work that if the series had been like the first story it would have been perfect. If Sapkowksi had kept it a tight almost pulpy action packed terse tense fantasy thriller it would have been my favourite fantasy series hands down.

But it just gets lost in the weeds with this generic crap and shitty characters I just lost interest. I mean most of the books are just about Ciri and completely unrelated stuff honestly. For a series about a monster slayer it just uses his monster slaying as like a character trait, it’s not what the story is about at all and plays no part in the narrative whatsoever.

Geralt being a witcher is just something he likes to tell people like he’s on a speed date but he never actually does any ‘witching’. It’s just astounding that CD projekt red can get it so right with the games but the creator of the character can get it so wrong. It’s weird because it’s usually the opposite for adaptations like it’s the total reverse with Dexter. Sure they hired a great actor to play Dexter but they completely fluffed the story and the character after season one. If the show had followed the books religiously it would have been amazing.

But it’s equally amazing that CD projekt red (jesus I sound like I’m doing marketing for these guys haha) could turn a cool shorty story (which could be a rip off of elric, I need to read elric) and turn it into one of the biggest game franchises in history.

I also finished that Parker book it was taking me ages to get through and yeah it kinda goes nowhere like I thought it might. They kill the only interesting villain off halfway through and replace him with an old guy on a golf cart who doesn’t do anything except shout at people. And the whole book is about Parker trying to escape this amusement park while getting besieged by this criminal organisation and spoilers yeah at the end he escapes and then goes home and makes himself a sandwich. That’s literally the end, I’m not making that up. The last line is him eating the sandwich and then thinking about getting the money he left there.

He doesn’t even get the money, or even try for it there’s no tension at all. He just escapes and thats it, no epic show down because the person he would have had the showdown with he already killed, he was literally the first guy he killed, it was pathetic. I mean why the fuck couldn’t you just have killed off the guys buddy and continued the story with the interesting villain instead?

That tiny change would have changed the entire plot and made it ten times more interesting and it would have been so easy to do. You just have the other guy walk into the hall of mirrors. Why would this smart villain be the first to walk into a trap like that? It made no sense and basically destroyed all the tension in the book.

I complained that the last book was kind of small and uninteresting and the heist was a little boring because everything went right. But that still had tension and interesting characters and a more dynamic story, it had legs. This book is just lazy and hacky honestly.

But still this is like I dunno the 14th book in the series and it’s the first real stinker, so that’s amazing. I’ve been burning through these books and loving each one more than the last. I just hope the next one returns to form a little.
Oh and I’m really excited because I just found out that someone turned all Stark’s books into graphic novels so that’ll give me a reason to read them all again which is great. I can’t wait for that.

I didn’t think the book was shit, I think if it had a few tweaks it would have been decent. Just have that interesting villain you spent all that time building up live til the end and have this awesome battle of wits of which I expected. And maybe have a little more set up to the actual job and the park itself. Just to give the story a little more breathing room and not be this claustrophobic almost like stage play set in one room.

Yeah so that’s my rant for the day probably be back for a poem tomorrow, I don’t know yet, been feeling a little up and down about that. I definitely have material let’s leave it at that.

Oh that reminds me I finally got to the part of the story where my bardic poem is used in Cur, so that’s cool. It is kind of a pivotal point in the story and the lore, the celtic mythology. Bards are held in high regard in that culture, their power to influence people is quite literally seen as a form of powerful magic and curses.

Anyway gotta go and do some proof reading as usual, finished the Diana pitch chapters but I’m gonna start working on the whole book soon enough. But I will put out another Cur chapter soon enough.

See you…

They came for us at night.

Me and my friends watched from our rooftops as they snaked through the back alleys. That bookish one with the moustache behind them fiddling with a tiny pencil and paper trying to write in some kind of journal.

They crept quickly and quietly to the centre of town. The town was so quiet you could hear the sand moving in their boots. A ghost town silently watching as they worked their way closer to the saloon they hoped Gage was sleeping in.

I could see on the hill where they set up camp, those weird pods were still there closed up and not moving, just sitting there like warts on a frogs ass.

They had strange weaponry and stalked the alleys ways watching every corner as they went. Feeling the eyes on them, slits of boarded windows following them as they passed holding their breath.

They must have felt us watching, the big one with the beard looked up at us but we ducked too quickly for him to see. They hurried along passing us off as curious birds.

He was waiting for them.

Just standing so tall, alone in the centre of main street, a cold wind blowing. His shotgun hanging loose at his side.

The men fanned out in formation and surrounded Gage in a semi circle in front of the saloon.

The man with the moustache shouted and tried to push past the men.

“Ryan, we have to take him alive.” He shouted as he approached the man with the white hair.

The man at the front said nothing, he just spun around and hit the pudgy moustache guy in the guts dropping him flat to his knees. Then he turned back to Gage and shrugged his shoulders.

The man on his knees tried to get up as the other men attempted to keep him down.

“If you kill him and others hear about it, he’ll become a martyr”

The man with the white hair, he must have been the leader turned to each of his men and he pointed, first at the woman. He said “Are you gonna tell anyone about this?”

She shook her head.

Then to the large man with the beard “You?”

“Not a soul.”

Then to the mexican.

“De nada”

“You?” He said to the younger man.

“No sir” he grinned.

“Well that’s everyone.” He said looking at the man with the mustache and quickly shooting him in the head with his strange alien weapon. There was just a quick flash of light and a strange noise and the man’s head was gone and his body became dead weight in the arms of the men carrying. Stained as they were with a light dusting of pink mist.

Disgusted, they threw his body down like a sack of potatoes in the dry loose top soil.

Gage watched the dust settle around it as it stopped being a person and just became scenery.

Ryan stopped and looked Gage up and down and scoffed. “We travelled all this way for this” He sniffed and spat on the dirt next to the mustache man’s body and said “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” He smirked and put his e-cigar in his mouth and sucked on it looking at Gage. “I know you” He said.

Gage tossed his gun out in front of him on the ground. It landed with a heavy thudding noise.

Ryan let out a laugh and said “Well that was easy.”

Gage didn’t move or say a word, his one eye burning staring through Ryan who tried too hard to hide a boiling fear in his gut. Destiny staring him right in the face, looking at the bare pit where his soul was supposed to reside.

Gage took his duster off of his shoulders revealing a mountain of man in a stained grey longsleeved under shirt that was once white. Ripped and torn and bitten and stretched with the sinewy muscles underneath forged through nothing but hard work and sweat and toil. The work horse bitten and turned sour and vicious and lame biting back at the hand of his master and running madly and wild and free to it’s own doom.

He took his suspenders off his shoulders and clenched his fists.

Ryan scoffed again “Oh so you wanna do it the old fashioned way.” He took another suck on his e-cigar and put it back in his pocket. He took his gun out of it’s holster and lifted it over his shoulder at which point the younger guy with the shaved head took it off of him.

He was wearing some kind of weird skeleton suit over his body that went over his arms and legs and connected at the hips. Under it he was just wearing a fitted shirt and a pair of pants.

Ryan didn’t take a stance he just smiled with his cocky smile and said “Well what are you waiting for?”

He let out a mocking breathy laughter and said “Ok, I guess I’ll be the one to lead”

He moved so fast I thought I was dreaming at first. I’d never seen a human move like that, it was like he was there one minute and then there was just dust and dirt and he was barrelling at Gage. He didn’t throw a punch he just launched himself right into him like a cannonball and swept him off his feet with enough force to kill a horse.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. He couldn’t have been more than six foot nothing this guy but one minute he was standing there the next he was on top of Gage. He toppled the gigantic man in two seconds flat, felled him like a great oak tree in a single strike.

Check out the rest of the chapter on inkitt.

Passover

Gage chapter 11 ‘Heel on the shovel

Good morrow fine folks,

You know I actually got up and started writing this morning haha. Forgetting it’s a blogging day. See I cycle between the two to try and keep them both in regularity, so I do tues/wed/thur blogging and then the other four days writing. Because before I would just write everyday and I would sort of get burnt out and depressed because I felt insular, I felt like it was all for nothing because no one was reading it. But then blogging and spamming and promoting made me feel hollow because I wasn’t creating.

So I thought this system would balance the two, nice regular creation with sometime to check my head space and see if anyone was picking up what I was putting down to mixed reviews haha.

But it was a happy accident because the last few days I’ve felt like I’m getting back in the swing of things, the first two days weren’t so good, second two were stellar. I think a lot due to the heat abating haha. Also part of me wasn’t feeling that part of the story, not that it was bad it was just a lull from the pulse pounding action haha. Now I’m safely back in that and feeling good. I was feeling like it was getting away from me a bit now I feel like I have a handle on it again. It’s coming into shape a little better, I don’t feel like it’s perfect or I’m putting enough world building in.
One thing I actually like about the witcher series is it has a lot of nice ‘fluff’ like stuff that’s irrelevant to the story but adds just a little something. But obviously in my estimation the whole series so far is nothing but fluff.

And not it’s time for another rant about the witcher, I just got done listening to the audiobook for time of contempt and I don’t if I just wasn’t interested enough to hold my attention. Because I listen to audiobooks all the time and do other stuff and I can still be fully absorbed and never miss anything but I feel like it was just a convoluted mess. As apposed to the other books where nothing happens that’s all this book is, a bunch of stuff happening. It’s not really a story.

The story can be summed up as an evil mage sides with the baddies and then they take over and everyone fights. That’s the plot, just add in a metric tonne of pointless dialogue and some mediocre fights in this one actually. And the book just sort of ends after a cringey lesbian sex scene between a fourteen year old girl and an elf.

I know what this author looks like, he’s a fat old polish guy and just imagining him writing this scene makes my skin crawl haha. It was bad, this elf girl like saves her from being raped by a boy only to rape her ‘nicely’???
It was disturbing to say the least, is it as disturbing as child gang bangs in the sewer a la Stephen King? Not really but I’m not in a hurry to read it again.

Short and sweet that rant, I kind of feel obligated to listen to the other books just so I can moan about them now so I might have to subject myself to that. I mean it’s good just for the writing style, I really think as a writer you should read everyday in some way. I usually listen to those books in breaks and then read before bed and when I get up. Almost finished the Parker novels, I’m not getting the stories crossed with the witcher because both their stories are very simple.

A little behind today so I’m gonna do some proofreading and hopefully get another damn chapter of Cur out because I’m running out of shit to post haha.

See you…

I figured Gage wouldn’t travel too far if he was with that old man and all, I mean where could he go? There wasn’t anything for miles, it was just open untamed country. He couldn’t go back to McCrory. If he didn’t just die of thirst or hunger and get covered over by the sand or get carried away by carrion. He would have stopped at this brothel and someone would remember him, how could they forget such a face?

We left the old man barely alive but he was certainly breathing when went on our way. There was no use in killing him I gathered, if he didn’t indeed die of his injuries he was of no great threat to our operation. I wondered as we left him in that state if it would have been more humane to just end his suffering.

The thought troubled me all the way to the brothel. The sun was just coming down by the time we got there but there wasn’t a single lamp lit in the building which seemed unusual.

The edifice was cold and dark but we could hear an odd rummaging sound. And see a little light bobbing in the darkness like an angler fish’s light in the deep darkness. We approached with caution and I called out like a fool before thinking.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

Ryan and the others shushed me angrily as they got off their vehicles and got low and still in the twilight and I saw the spark of a knife leaving it’s sheathe.

There was a long pause, a moment of unbearable silence. The rummaging noise stopped and the lamplight went out and I swallowed standing in the open. Just like in front of the barn awaiting another flash and a roll of thunder but instead I heard a small stuttering voice.

“HHh-hello? Who’s there?”

“Erm, I’m just looking for some service – A place to sleep and some food perhaps”

There was another deathly silence where nothing moved.

“O-ok” The man’s voice said as the lamp came back on. A few moments later a portly middle aged man wearing a smock came out to greet us in the dusk. “Hh-how you are ya?” The man asked.

“Erm we’re just looking for a place to bed down.”

“Ww-we? There’s more of you?”

Ryan and the others rose out of the falling darkness and stood in front of the porch at my back.

“I see” The man said as he moved the lamp around trying to get a good look at the strangers. “Well I hope you like beans, s’all I could find.” He said.

We sat around a table in the dimly lit brothel over meagre plates of luke warm beans not talking a great deal. I looked over in disgust watching Stein sop up bean juice with stale bread, not so much at the sight of it, but the sound. The slurping sopping suckling noise as he bit into the wet bread.

The man who greeted us came over with his lantern and said “How are you folks finding it?”

A few grunts were sent back in answer.

“Fine I said, I was wondering if you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

“Questions?”

“Yes, I was wondering how you came upon this place, how long have you owned it?”

“Oh I don’t own it” The man said shaking the loose skin on his neck. “I stumbled on it just like you did, the place was empty when I got here so I thought there was no harm in camping out here til I move on.”

“I see” I paused feeling a bit of unease creep in but I went on. “Do you know what happened to the people who ran it?”

“I have no idea mister. I used to run the bank over in town until the other day now I’m a wanderer now, trying to find a way out of the valley and this god forsaken nightmare.”

“You said something about a bank?

“You haven’t heard about it? The whole town is going up in smoke!” He sputtered.

“You’re the first person we’ve talked to”

“You mean” He stopped and put his hand on his head and looked shocked and then swallowed. “I was the only one that got out.” He said in a horrifying realisation.

“What in god’s name are you talking about man?”

He swallowed and he said almost like he was reading from an old folk tale. “A great evil has come to Tupelo, the devil himself has come to town with a red right hand and driven the people from their homes. Swept up in a murderous rage. They chased down all the sane people and killed them and maybe more got away but I ran.” He swallowed, his throat sounded dry and sore. “But I looked back and I saw him, the man with the scarred face, he looked at me and I felt the evil in his heart and I knew the end was upon us.”

“The end?”

Read the rest of the chapter here.

Heel on the shovel

Gage Chapter 10 ‘Something must break’

Hey there,

What’s up? rhetorical question of course everyone knows it is the sky. That is the ultimate answer to that question, actually now that I think about it, what is up? Is it up or are we up? Hmm? Hmmmmm?

Ok enough of that nonsense. Been a pretty tame week, just prepping for my trip, been pretty much checked out really. A combination of the insane heat and the lack of a working shower. It’s like a dribble, keep getting it fixed and it breaks again. The shower is an oddly mystical thing and without a steady beat of running water I become very dull and very dumb.

It’s something to do with the water hitting you, like sitting under a waterfall aligns all your chakras probably I dunno, rinses your third eye (technically it does). It’s where I do most of my best thinking, where I lay things out straight, hash things out. If I have a problem with a plot point or a scene I take a shower and I think it through and I’ll innevitably have solved it by the time I get out which is usually an hour. I take ridiculously long showers for pretty much this reason alone.

It helps that I’m a germaphobe, but I’m always wary of people that take like 5 minute showers. How is that possible, I don’t have one part of my body I could wash in under 5 minutes (nudge wink).

If I could I’d probably live in the shower and just get a waterproof laptop if that exists. Maybe if I become a millionaire I’ll buy a hot tub with a waterfall going down my back and just stew in there as I write… this is a terrible idea.

Yeah so long story short; I didn’t get much writing done and I’m probably not going to do any proofreading today or the next day because I’ll be too excited, I have to wake up at 4 in the morning to get a half 5 train to the airport and I’m thinking about just not sleeping or just napping throughout the day and then sleep on the plane.

So I figure today I’m just gonna go over my pitch for Diana, read through the whole excerpt and just make sure it’s nice, maybe do a bit of spamming, oh yeah banned off facebook again haha. Just for a tasteless joke as usual, I think there are people that actively report me because there’s no way it was just some random triggered person this time because it was a post on my own wall. So there’s a pc spy on my friends list haha.

Anyway, I dunno Gage is probably one of the worst things I’ve written just because it’s kind of experimental and done for nano. Essentially weird ideas plus 30 day time limit equals; not so good haha, but it was fun so whatever. I was trying some new things but I think this is the part where it sort of comes into it’s own a little I think. The opposite perspective captures what I was trying to do a lot better and it’s far less self serving, less self indulgent less focus on the action more on the world and character building in a fun way, I think.

I started reading the next Witcher book, time of contempt and honestly it’s not really grabbing me. It’s basically like an x rated Harry potter no one asked for haha. It’s a shame really because the first ever witcher story I read was the best and what I thought the series would be. It was basically a noir pulp fantasy story, this stuff is more generic fantasy game of thrones shit but more boring. It could have been this really tight slick gritty action adventure but instead it’s this ponsey political drama with dragons and shit, such a let down honestly. Well nevermind the Parker book is all those things and more but not fantasy haha. Just had to slip in some witcher hate haha. I’m just really disappointed more than anything, I thought this series would be amazing and hook me into fantasy and it just hasn’t.

Been talking too much already, I need to do some work at least, just been too excited to think really, going to see the most important people in the world to me and my time with them is so fleeting.

Must dash.

See you…

 

As it happened Lugtroopers were forbidden from drinking alcohol. It had some sort of neural effect that could be passed on to the Kafta they were linked with. I didn’t really want to get bogged down in the technical aspect of it. Nor would I want someone with a highschool education like Gable trying to explain technology he most certainly did not understand.

In fact Ryan was so concerned about it he chose to use those god awful electronic cigars as opposed to the real thing. Although what in heavens name the effect of tobacco on one of those things could be is anyone’s guess but he wasn’t taking any chances.

I didn’t much care for drinking alone so we decided to skip the formalities and get straight to asking questions. First stopping off to get the latest paper. The headline was regarding some sort of unity rally in the capital and new york. It was in response to the death of the Cyclon boy and a number of terrorist activities down south from what were described as ‘Speciesist groups’. The rally was celebrating the harmony between the different species in the cities living together. It was a celebration of the strength in their diversity. The rally was the freed Kaftas and humans and all breeds in between lead by Cyclon organizers. They marched through the streets and conducted a ritual burning of pre-alien literature. Anything that denoted aliens as wicked or capricious in some way as a device to divide the races. They chanted in unision ‘Kill the speciesist’ as some of the group got a little rambunctious. They began pulling out and beating those that wouldn’t leave their places of work and march with them. But the paper made sure to highlight that this was a tiny minority of the events that occurred and those that commited violence were motivated by a devotion to love and unity.

Unfortunately this time Ryan insisted on accompanying me on company business. Which I opposed as he was just a contractor and not actually in the full employ of the company. But he told me he’d feed me to his lugger (which thankfully were kennelled for the time being until they so needed them) if I ever spoke to him again. That pretty much ended every interaction we ever had from that point on.

The bar was your standard border town saloon as might be described in some trashy novella you buy in railway stations. It of course smelled no different from the jail cells, being the source of the drunkiness and general filthiness. The bartender was a thin man who looked rather young. But on closer inspection his forehead was very lined and there were deep lines around his eyes signifying all the late nights. He had very light hair over tanned freckled skin which made it seem like his light hair almost glowed or wasn’t there. It was odd and apparently everyone called him ‘Whitey’ because of how pale his hair was and of course because his first name was in fact ‘White’. I cant say the folks here had much of a creative imagination. Which is surprising as most of the greats like Shakespeare found themselves almost continually soused.

I felt bad for the chap as Ryan went about torturing the poor sod almost immediately, he’d broken two of his fingers before he even asked him his name. It appeared he’d let me talk to the sheriff purely because he was incapable of having a conversation with someone without first making them swallow their own teeth. I almost shuddered but for the efficiency of the brutality. And when he finally did ask a question McGruber tripped over himself to implicate his own mother in misgivings.

It seemed to be a policy of the Lugtroopers to display such needless barbarism for barbarism’s sake. Brutuality was it’s own end to them as they were soldiers after all and must have seen this land as a hostile territory which in some respects it was.

But what could I have done? Argue with him and lose some of my own teeth and anger the people charged with defending me. All for some local yokel that would have drunk his teeth away eventually anyway and who’s face I would hopefully never see again. So I said nothing and pretended not to care.

Read the full chapter here on inkitt.

Something must break

 

 

Tales of Midbar: Secret Priest – Review (Le supreme gentleman savagery)

It’s probably a bad sign if the blurb gets an eyeroll.
Wow that is like half an hour of my life I’ll never get back, jesus where do I start? This has to win the award for the most spergy thing I’ve ever read on inkitt. I have no idea what you’re going for with this but if you intended it to sound like a severely autistic alien wrote it, you nailed it haha.
The first thing that hit me when I finished the first chapter was ‘why is it even sci-fi or fantasy?’ you’re going for this mix of sci-fi fantasy which never works, it’s just a mess when you blur science and magic, I mean what’s the point?
But fantasy/sci-fi settings are supposed to serve the story in someway, you could literally rewrite this and just set it on earth and make it a regular teen drama. Why would you make a teen drama sci-fi? Do one or the other. Because what really holds this story back and hits your straight out of the gates is all the exposition, there is way way too much exposition for a first chapter.
I mean I might care about the world building if he was some mech pilot fighting god knows what on pluto but it’s just about a kid who wants to get laid… in space. It really doesn’t need to be sci-fi and it certainly doesn’t need to be a blend of sci-fi or fantasy, just pick one or pick none.
Show don’t tell, if you have to reel off literal text book definitions of your world for world building it doesn’t work. You can’t drop a text book on your readers in the first chapter and expect them to be engaged because you renamed the moon “Blarglemunch7” it doesn’t work.
The world building in the story basically amounts to using weird or made up words in exchange for normal ones and the only reason for the use of the sci-fi setting is to squeeze in the weird sexual morality politics.
In terms of technical writing, it’s kind of hard to read, big blocks of text and some really weak similes.
I can’t make heads or tails of this story, I can’t tell whether or not it’s trying to be funny. From the blurb and the subject matter I thought it would be kind of fun and light with lots of humour but it doesn’t seem like it’s trying to be funny. So all the sex stuff is delivered seriously which makes it really weird and cringey and seem like it was written by a school shooter.
How is rape even a thing in this society where kids are having sex in school and no one can stop them? It doesn’t make a lot of sense.
I dunno what to do with this, maybe add some jokes, I don’t see how anyone can take this seriously. It’s like Tommy Wiseau tried to write a sci-fi book, so it’s either comedy genius or it’s something else entirely.

Read it here… I guess.
Elliot Rodger in space

boomer

Cur Chapter 2 ‘The executioner’s song’

Oh my god, I wasted so much time writing a really savage review of this story on inkitt. Another salty exchange, one of many on inkitt haha.
I just logged in to find a three star review on inkitt from someone who had a weird name and no avatar and the review basically consisted of “Hur durr, the characters are mean, too much violence”. Then I was like ‘seriously a three star review because you thought the characters weren’t nice’
Then he’s like “Hurr durr, I like to give constructive criticism and harsh reviews” And me not knowing I was dealing with the Rodger Ebert of inkitt deigned to read his abortion of a story which literally reads like it was written by the Isla vista shooter. This is literally what Elliot Rodger would write if he wanted to write a sci-fi fantasy mash up story instead of being a weird incel spree killer.
The story is basically all about sci-fi rape and it’s- I can’t find any other word to describe it but as Todd Howard would say; ‘Degenerate’ haha.
But the difference is I actually gave constructive criticism in my review instead of just saying ‘the characters are too mean’.
I mean honestly I don’t care about the reviews on inkitt, really I just put it up there for ease of reading and general feedback but you’re not gonna get a good critique from that page. But when someone just pops up out of nowhere to shit on you it pisses me off. And it pisses me off even more so that the critique isn’t even good. There’s nothing he said that was constructive criticism, I literally can’t make my characters nicer because they’re supposed to evil and cruel because of what happened to them. And then on top of that his story is a steaming pile of literal garbage that is literally like Tommy Wiseau wrote a sci-fi novel haha,

Anyway, I’ll post that next week or you can go on my inkitt page and read it and his review if you give a shit, which I suspect most people don’t haha.
No bitching about the witcher today because I haven’t read any this week because I don’t fucking want to haha. I’ll probably read more tomorrow. But I’m really into the Parker novel I’m reading and it’s getting to the good bit.
So that’s about it, woke up with butthurt in my heart and needed to vent and fuck a schedule for chapter releases I’m planning to release a Cur chapter a week for my one fan haha.
Other than that I’ve wasted too much time already and I need to do some spamming or proofreading or quit drinking coffee haha.

See you…

The executioner’s song

Cur awoke with a bucket of water in his face, locked in a pig pen for a day and a half, stinking as he was. They only let him out once to torture him but too little avail. The pigs snorted and snuffled him as he sat shirtless and dirty as one of them. His head down, suspended by his one arm tightly wrapped with a piece of fibrous twine to the thicket fence.

The dwarves cut him loose and he grinned at them as they shuddered, shrinking behind their pikes at the sight of him.

They lifted him to his feet but he could stand on his own well and they walked him at pike point to the large round house on the hill.

The chieftain of Killaloe sat cross legged on a beautifully decorated hide rug. An ash wood tray with clay pots on it and a large ornately decorated axe at his feet. The hut itself was not anymore grand than the one used as a tavern but it smelled less of piss and old mead.

“Leave us” He said waving his hand.

“Sir he-“

“I know, I said leave us”

The chieftain was a wide portly clean shaven dwarf, only a few tufts of hair on his face he’d missed. He was wearing a gold trimmed tunic that still smelt of smoke and pig shit like everything in this village did. A gold torque around his neck and a conical cap made of birch bark on his head symbolized his status. “Please sit” He said pointing at the rug on the floor.

Cur sat crossed legged with one knee raised.

“Do you know me?” The dwarf’s face was sallow and looked slick to the touch, bouncing up and down as he spoke and dropping when he stopped.

Cur looked through him with a set of icy blue eyes. “I know your name” He hissed.

“Good” He had a pot of some liquid in front of him that he poured out into round clay mugs. “Are you really of the Firbolg?” He said without looking up.

“The Firbolg are dead”.

“I see.” He handed one of the cups to Cur. His down turned face unchanged and grim.

Cur batted it out of his hand letting it roll around on the deer hide rug. The chieftain’s face didn’t move, it stayed perfectly still as if numbed by snake venom.

He cleared his throat.

“We hear many rumors here as you may imagine, a small village like this, all we have are rumors” He tried to smile shyly but his face seemed almost too heavy. “Two in particular interest me, one of a strange series of attacks by blood suckers or ‘Dearg due’ as they call it. Whole villages are slaughtered for not adhering to some elder god or some such triviality. And another about a wandering mercenary that kills for coin and cheaply at that who lacks the good grace to die.” The dwarf managed a pinching at the side of his mouth that might have been a smile.

“Perhaps those rumors are much the same” Cur grinned speaking from his throat.

“We face hard times, some love Bres for his beauty, the fools, women mostly, others.” He paused and breathed out letting his face sag even further “Loathe him for the unfair taxes he levies. A third of our corn and of our milk, its extortion, I and a few others outright refuse to pay it.”

“This doesn’t concern me”

“You’re right of course, but I’m a farmer, it concerns me and that’s why I didn’t deliver you directly to the gallows.”

“Your point?”

“Very well, you’re very skilled and are attached to no clan as no clan alive would have you because of- well look at you.” He scratched his sagging jowl and tipped his head as if to speak to his own round gut. “Kill Abartach of Slaverghty. Do this and you walk free.”

“I walk free now”

“Hard times make desperate men Firbolg.” He sighed deeply and lifted his eyes a little looking for mercy in the man before him and found none. “I see a deadly pattern emerging, the Offaly villages of Annally and Lusmagh were hit first. Formally parts of Connacht as I remember.” His sharp eyes darted to the Firbolg for confirmation and found none. “All their people scattered or dead never heard from again.”

“Then how do you know it?”

“Travellers pass through, say the villages are deserted, all their livestock taken or dead. Not a man woman or child alive, almost no signs of struggle at all, no weapons, no survivors, no witnesses.” He narrowed his eyes to scrutinize the stranger yet again and found only a scornful calm.

“This Abartach?”

“He is the one profiting from their deaths.”

“How?”

“Abartach moves illicit goods from ports in Munster up and down the Shannon river from Slaverghty. Forbidden items smuggled out of the cities of knowledge and other such places. all the villages along the river know of this as it’s safer to transport them by water. Bandits can’t swim. As those villages are aware of this practice they expect tribute for silence. I suspect Annally and Lusmagh got too greedy.”

“How does he do it?”

“That’s what I hope you will find out for me, your freedom and a weight silver.”

“Petty squabbles between dwarves don’t interest me.”

“Well surely your freedom and your life interest you.” He tone shifted became faster and more breathy. This is more than just petty squabbles this is conspiracy, this fratricide.” His face was red and his eyes began to bulge out of their socket, spitting as he spoke. He may well be working for Bres himself!” His face was hot, a bead of sweat trickled down his cheek and then he paused for a moment “How did you know he was a dwarf?” He said as his blood rain cold.

Cur smirked wickedly.

The chieftain’s face became drawn and white and he coughed. “You’re an assassin then?”

“Sometimes”

The chieftain’s face drained of color as he looked at the ghostly white visage of the man before him. “Then the scene in the tavern, just so you could be before me – How much is he paying you? I’ll double it, triple it!”

“He offers me more than mere silver.” He croaked ominously in his gravelly voice.

“What then? Land? His ugly daughter? Spit it out!”

Cur breathed in deeply, his eyes wide and manic as he smiled like a ghoul. “A future!” He said stonily.

“Ahhhhhhh!” The chieftain wailed his flabby face rippled as his ornate axe leapt into his hand. He swung at Cur’s neck getting one good but shallow whack in it at the base of his neck.

No blood just a gaping wound like a notch in a tree. Cur’s head tilted to one side with that manic insane smile on his face still, laughing low and menacing like a demon.

The chieftain crying out pulled his hand back for another strike to free the monster’s head from its shoulders.

Cur caught the little man’s stubby hand in his gargantuan fist with a hard sapping sound. He squeezed the dwarf’s hand letting the heavy axe drop on the hide rug.

“What now dead ma- ahhhhh!” The chieftain cried as Cur pulled him by the arm like a tavern strumpet and lunged forward to rip out his throat with his front teeth.

 

 

Gage Chapter 9 ‘Wanted Man’

Ok so I’ve spent all morning procrastinating and drinking coffee trying to be alive so I’m just gonna get in complain about the witcher and then get out haha.
Nah but yeah, just been writing and proofreading, I put up the second chapter of Cur, it’s turning out pretty well. I promised myself I would go over each chapter as a rewrite not a soft proof read because I found myself sort of burning through them when writing. So I wanted to go back and give them all of my attention and I added quite a bit. I’m not sure how up to it today I am, because I’ve been trying to get up earlier and sleep less and I feel fried, hence procrastinating haha.
So maybe I’ll do it later or limit myself to one chapter a week. It doesn’t really matter that much how I fast I get them out, all that matters is they’re the best they can possibly be.
Ok now time to praise Parker and shit on the witcher. I said I would get back into reading Richard Stark Parker novels because they were more fast paced and tense and then I literally start the most boring formulaic one yet haha. Nah its great, it just has sort of a slow start because the weirdly they start in the job well thats not the weird, the weird part is the robbery goes without a hitch. But of course the hitches come later haha. 
I just think the robbery went a little too long and was a little uneventful but otherwise it was fine, it’s back to form now and it’s solid as fuck, I love it. Tense, interesting, mysterious, cool characters and story, action.
Now compare it to the witcher, I read the first short of sword of destiny and it’s literally about Geralt NOT fighting a dragon. I was like ‘ok’, how is that a story ‘there’s a dragon over there, should you fight it? Y tho *leaves*. Oh dude you really subverted my expectations by having the monster slayer not fight the monster, that’s really edgy and interesting, oh wait no it isn’t.
I do like how this book is basically going deeper into Geralt and Yens relationship but what I don’t like is it’s still garbage haha. Yen is still a complete dumpster fire, the only positive thing I can say about her is she makes every character seem better by comparison. 
I hated Dandelion in the game and at the start of the books but the moment Yen spat on him he’s been elevated to knighthood in my eyes haha. There isn’t a single character in these books that likes her except Ciri and even that’s begrudgingly haha.
I mean I can’t tell if the author intends for the reader to hate her or not but she literally has no likeable attributes, she’s arrogant, self-absorbed, mean spirited, catty, quick to anger and she smells funny haha.
I was actually starting to think the author might want us to hate her because the second story is sort of hinting that Geralt actually has no feelings at all, like he’s just a meat robot created to kill monsters. And the only reason he loves her is because she’s the only woman that could love a monster like him because he literally used a wish from a genie to force her to love him.
But at the same time, I’m pretty sure Triss and Shani probably love him without magic but he thinks Yen is the safest bet because of Genie magic. So I really don’t know what he’s going for it’s just unpleasant to read any scene with her in. Its well written of course but it’s also like reading a really well worded phone book. It’s good but nothing really happens. I honestly think the ‘still a better lovestory than twilight’ meme doesn’t apply to this. Edward Cullen is infinitely more likeable than Yennefer. They have absolutely no chemistry, they barely even seem to like eachother.
Again this is just my jealous saltiness because I wish I could write as well as this but also I think more stuff happens in a chapter of one of my books than a whole witcher book. I’m not even kidding in terms of Blood of elves that books is just 350 pages of talking. I was telling this guy who is about half way through it that it doesn’t get any better and I could feel his heart breaking over facebook haha.
Oh yeah, I’m back on facebook again, for how long? Who knows, I’m bound to get banned again soon enough haha.

Anyway that’s enough ranting, I need to do some spamming or else lying with my eyes closed and not moving ergh.

See you…

*Note to the reader, the following is a concurrent entry from the diary of Dram Johansson section chief of the Chicago office of Xen Chiao global railways initative in the years following.

New York Feb 9th 1849

My how fortunes change, only a year or two ago I was busting rocks in the hot California sun. Blasting away and baking to death like some sort of lizard. And now I’m in this nice heat regulated office in the centre of the most metropolitan city in all of the world. The cental hub for trade on the entire earth and I have my own office.

It’s still rather small but it has my name on the front of the door and that’s all that matters. I look at the picture of Catharine on my desk and I think back on that horrible incident those years ago that drove her into such fits. I feel regret too on what happened, feeling that I could have done more and now I wonder what has become of my friend, sure he is dead or would wish to be.

I remember that day too for the loveliness of Catherine and for what felt like a fated meeting as she is now my wife. I took her as such and it was not without a great coaxing on my part. After Phineas’ accident and when he wouldn’t see her, she was distraught and I did my best to comfort her. I wrote her many the letter informing her also of her husbands firing and then his disappearance. And when I was promoted to work in the city I offered her a place with me there where I could provide for her and Gage’s daughter Eleanor.

I can’t say if this would anger Phineas or not, I have done my best to keep Catherine and his child in the finest of situations, they want for nothing. It almost feels like I’m writing a letter to him, begging for his forgiveness or his acceptance. Because deep down I know I was selfish, I wanted her and I took her because I could and now I wrap it in charity and hope and goodness when it was selfish. But I hope he would understand and if not for me they would most likely be in the poor house or forced to work some demeaning job as washer women both.

They’re as happy as I could imagine and she never speaks of him nor our daughter. Who was too young even to remember that I am not her real father and I love her as if she were my own flesh and blood. I would never let go of the happy short years we’ve spent together as a family. With my continued hard work and perservance perhaps I could even move up to work in the capital. And take them with me to have a life neither could dream of before.

You should see Eleanor now, what a beauty she’s growing into, just like her mother, precocious and smart, she’ll make a fine woman one day.

Read the rest on inkitt.

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/scifi/200344/chapters/9

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑