alexfinan
"hhhhheeelllllppppp!" I scream till my lung are blown out and the pain comes back. The well turns dark as night sets in. Its going to be too cold to sleep on the stones tonight. My weekly basket of food is half gone and its only monday...I think.
My asthma constricts my lungs making it harder to breath. I need to keep going. The hunters are behind me and closing fast. I have six shots left in my pistol but i also have my bat. not enough to slow one let alone five. I can hear them crush concrete as they bounce from building to building traveling flawlessly through their environment, as water travels in the sea. Doing what they do best, slaughtering stragglers. Without mercy or regret.
Steel is bound to steel as these monoliths are forged with last of our worlds natural resources. Men working 12 hour rotating shifts binding metal tireless together in intricately patterns to create the steel giants left arm, it is the last part of this giant to be finished, it stands idle before me staring off ahead waiting for the day to be activated. A cold emotionless derelict of our world. We plan on sending them out amongst the cosmic sandbox we call the galaxy. Some will travel to furthest reaches of the galaxy asking for help, some will travel to bring life to planets long thought prime for colonization but there is a great fear that many will arrive late to their destinations and will only leave a cold husk of a giant as a reminder of our violent world.
We weren't always this way we once found peace amongst ourselves, learned to accept each other differences and in time even prefer people who were different instead of people who seemed plain or "normal." For a time we prospered, reject old ways of thinking and accepted the hard truths of our world but inevitable like any junkie trying to kick a habit, we relapsed back into our old ways.
Then a plan arose to expand into the cosmos. These monoliths, these creatures of steel are not instruments of war but instead a symbol of our infinite hubris and our obsession to shape something in our own image. The yearning to play god, but if you ask me if these things ever do meet another civilization of aliens and then we end up meeting them. Well aren't we going to look like fools when they are expecting all powerful gods that created these iron titans and are greeted by mere feeble mortal men such as ourselves.
-Titus Young
Head of Security
Project Chroma
24, May, 2065
These exercises flex the writing mind. It defines the writer, and weeds out the dedicated from the delusional. We are the writers who use this site to post how we think and how we feel without the fear of critique and just do it for the sake of doing it. Some of us post anonymously other under our real names but we are one. Forever linked together by pen, ink and the heart of our works we hold dear, as though they where our children. We consciously decided to flex this intellectual desire to improve on our talents, and grow our knowledge of our world beyond our current understanding.Knowing that we must hone our skills first and presented second. For that I salute you and will drink in hopes of your success.
Half of a dollar is more than I had yesterday. Being broke is fun, but being broke is annoying. More important though being broke is a way of life now. There is only half the middle class and half the jobs as there were when I was young. Our time as number one in this world is over. Too bad. At least we were something and at least we were contenders.
The methods of my madness are surgical and precise. I tend to approach a situation as though it was my life on the line. It has a hold of me as though it was my girl, staring her deeply into her eyes, loving every moment and at the same time drifting me away into a different world like heroin shot into my veins.