Entries By Isilo Aranel
Displaying 1 To 12 Of 12 Entries
The puncture wound was the worst of his injuries, by far. He had not seen the thin dagger in time to block it with his sword, and now he was paying for his oversight. If he had not been so overconfident, he might have lived a few more years. He shook his head. Living a long, full life was not a part of the life of an assassin.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 08.06.2012 @ 4:14 pm
The principal always frightened me, walking around with his paddle resting on one shoulder. He would patrol the halls with it swinging freely from his hand in rhythm with his steps. His smile was the thing that we all ignored. It never seemed to fit with the silent threat of swift punishment.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.30.2012 @ 9:20 am
“Well, that’s quite a statement,” I muttered from behind the counter. My job as a cashier at Wal-Mart can be quite amusing. If I could take pictures of the people that come through my check out line could easily fill up a humor website. This man, was wearing hot pink leggings. Yes, leggings. On a man. And does it make me a terrible person to say he actually pulled them off with style?Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.27.2012 @ 10:23 am
This will make a statement, she thought as she looked down at the bright red heels she had slipped on. She was wearing no red in the rest of her outfit, but she didn’t care at that point. She was a successful business woman with a wonderful career, and this high school reunion, she wasn’t going to get shown up by a bunch of over-tan, beer-bellied but otherwise “anorexic,” always dieting, former cheerleaders just because she was pregnant with her fourth kid.
And, the bonus point: her husband was going to love them.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.26.2012 @ 2:39 pm
“You keep flying like that, these fuses aren’t going to last the warp jump!” screamed the intercom built into his head rest. Adrian ignored his mechanic’s warning and slammed the joystick to the right, just dodging the lasers the government cruiser had fired.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.23.2012 @ 12:10 pm
Bridezillas. The bane of my existence as a cake decorator. This one called three days before the wedding. The decorator she had before hadn’t “caught her vision,” as she put it. So, I listened, dutifully took notes, and cringed internally as I listened to what she wanted.
5 tiers. White strawberry icing. Whole, sugar coated strawberries. Red icing roses, plus a couple of sugared real roses. Oh, and I had to “be sure the strawberry icing was white, because pink was NOT one of her colors.”Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.22.2012 @ 1:09 pm
His instructions were clear. He had to act quickly. He had to act silently. He was to get into the palace, get the crown, and get out. Without being seen. Without being heard. Without being capture.
His instructions had been clear. If he was found out, he was on his own. Failure was not an option.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.21.2012 @ 4:10 pm
“He suspects a plot,” whispered the voice from within the confessional. “However, he doesn’t know it comes from inside the church.”
“Excellent,” whispered the nobleman back, leaning his forehead against the bars. He slid a velvet coin purse through the slot. “I hope that is a considerable enough contribution to the church?”
“It will be our lord’s last confession.”Posted By Isilo Aranel On 07.20.2012 @ 5:22 pm
I work for the National Herald. I am a successful reporter. I’m sexy, well toned, with nearly flawless ivory skin that has cost me countless hundreds over the past years. I dress for success. I am desired by every man that walks by. I’m vain, yes, but I understand my potential.
And yet I just got stood up.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 05.30.2012 @ 12:17 pm
The architecture was stunning, overwhelmingly so. The flying buttresses loomed over the travelers as they entered into the gates, the metal doors slowly creaking closed behind them. The carved reliefs drew their attention higher as they walked down the main avenue of the city.Posted By Isilo Aranel On 05.29.2012 @ 11:29 am