Entries By RikkiO
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 35 Entries
“Dehydration!” “Is no fun!” I thought to myself as my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth once more. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and sat down on the nearest rock, my hiking boots crunching in the sandstone gravel. “Damn you,” I told myself, “You should’ve brought more water. You should’ve told someone where you were going. You should’ve thought this through!” But berating myself would do me no good. I stood up and resumed my search for the trail, for water, for civilization.Posted By RikkiO On 04.10.2011 @ 11:44 pm
Plans. We make them all our lives. From the moment we’re born our parents figure out what to do with us. When we go to school, we work hard so we can follow our plans to go to a good college so we can follow our plans to get a good job so we can make money and live well enough to send our kids to a good college so they can have a good job and make enough money. We plan for the future. We plan so much that we don’t actually live in the moment.Posted By RikkiO On 04.03.2011 @ 7:25 pm
She held onto the microphone like the edge of a cliff. Though she breathed quickly, it felt like she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her body. Faces in the crowd blurred into one massive hostile body waiting for her to act, waiting for her to provoke it so it could attack. The microphone slipped out of her hand to the floor and the speakers thundered with the impact. An individual disentangled itself from the blurry monster and helped her off the stage as she mumbled apologies and thank yous and pleases and anything else that came to mind.Posted By RikkiO On 02.13.2011 @ 11:18 pm
He looked through the small kitchen window out to the old woman’s garden. He pictured her bending low despite the pain, patting the moist soil down bare-handed. He pictured her murmuring lovingly to the plants, giving them more care than she’d ever given him. He shook his head, driving out these images. He turned to the door, grabbed the last box of stuff that smelled of old lady, and locked the door behind him.Posted By RikkiO On 10.07.2010 @ 5:41 pm
She closed the door gently, not slamming it like they wanted. She gently placed her bags in the back of her sedan, knowing they were all watching her through the glass. It was so easy to picture their faces pressed against the glass: they’d always been like that. She had never been like that, like them.
She had always been the black sheep of the family; while they put their energy into gossip and the latest news she had spent her time studying legends and ancient stories. And that’s what she was becoming to future generations: a myth. Her own family wanted her out. They had given up on her. Abandoned her. They would never talk to her or about her again. And so she was a myth to them.Posted By RikkiO On 07.05.2010 @ 3:57 pm
“But I don’t want to move there! I- I’ll be killed!” the little black pawn said.
The Black Queen laughed. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary. Look at the bigger picture, the greater good.” The pawn had never liked her high-and-mighty attitude and the way she overpowered the Black King.
The pawn mumbled his uncertainty until the Voice From Above spoke again: “No, no. I’ve changed my mind.” Then The Great Hand let go of the pawn and reached for the Black Queen.
She gasped in disbelief. “No! I will not be a sacrifice!” she shrieked to deaf ears. The Great Hand moved her to the square in range of the White Queen, who was protecting the White King. The Opposing Hand shifted the triumphant White Queen to the same spot where she easily defeated the her rival.
The pawn watched as the Black Queen’s body was removed from the gameboard and the game continued.Posted By RikkiO On 07.03.2010 @ 10:13 pm
“Did you invest it all?” she asked, her cold voice telling him there was punishment if her orders had been disobeyed. “Yes, of course,” he said hurridley. His prediction was that she was crazy and they were going to lose everything. He hoped she would be right about the new trend in the market though. They desperately needed the money.Posted By RikkiO On 06.30.2010 @ 3:54 pm
Adam had grown up watching his father do it. He knew his father had grown up watching his father do it. He knew his family had been the best carvers in the region. But when the time came for him to learn the trade for real–not just messing around with knives and blocks of wood like he had done previously–Adam’s father died. With no uncles there was no one to teach him. Not only did Adam feel as though he’d let down generations of family, he felt like his life lacked purpose.Posted By RikkiO On 06.29.2010 @ 6:18 pm
She felt the powerful muscles flexing under smooth scales as the dragon pumped its wings. At first, they rose jerkily, making her grip the dragon with her legs and hold on tightly to a spike on the back of its neck. Then it smoothed out and they were soaring over what used to be the limits of her world.Posted By RikkiO On 06.29.2010 @ 10:03 am
He wiped the sweat and sand from his eyes, not really believing what he was seeing. He turned away from the glaring sun and dusted the dirt from the ancient creature in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief. He laughed aloud. “I can’t belive it. I found it!” he shouted.Posted By RikkiO On 06.28.2010 @ 10:26 am
Her mother, her mother’s mother, her mother’s mother’s mother, and so on had always run the very same dress making shop. Guilty was not a strong enough word for how she felt about breaking the chain, and every time she saw someone wearing velvet–her mother’s favorite fabric–a wave of shame crashed over her.Posted By RikkiO On 06.25.2010 @ 9:44 pm
I knew she did it for the attention. She bought those expensive clothes, dyed her hair that bleach-blonde, and wore all that makeup for the attention. She knew many girls looked at her with envy. But she didn’t know that many of us saw through her. We knew what she was; we knew she lacked anything real. But we knew we were real, and we were content.Posted By RikkiO On 06.21.2010 @ 5:53 pm
I knew I needed something uplifting to listen to. I browsed all my CDs and records and tapes. I scrolled through my iPod. I finally settled on a cheery waltz that I’d always loved. It was unusual because it only held good memories. Now would be a good time to bring them up. I hit play.
I tried. I really did. But as the cello struck the downbeat, the viola and second violin played the countermelodies, and the violin sang a sweet melody I broke down.Posted By RikkiO On 06.20.2010 @ 8:45 pm