Thursday, September 2, 2010


    "Fucking fuck shit fuck fuck shit fuuuck, goddamn it, James, go right, they have an ACR camping the sandbags up there near the silos, Jack, quickscoper coming around behind us, he's pretty good from far away, try using your Spas, I'm going to call these harriers in." Commands spewed forth from the dark haired teenager's mouth into the foam covered grey mouthpiece that was helpfully held in front of his mouth. The sight was this; A young man in a computer chair leaning forward, his face far too close to the television screen. Bright lights and colors flashed in front of his darting eyes, which relayed these colors and patterns to his brain, which decoded them and then pieced them together, deducing that the dark shape popping out from around the corner wasn't good, and then relayed this information to another center in his brain, which then told his hands to move his left thumb up very slightly and quickly, with deadly precision, before pulling the trigger back and holding it there persistently.

    The game winning kill was rather average, just another snap to shot, maybe slightly better than usual. He leaned back in his chair. Seven thousand five hundred to three thousand two hundred. Completely owned. He pulled his headset off and adjusted it accordingly, wiping the sweat from his forehead and glancing at his laptop's screen, to see nothing had changed.

    "Good job guys, we raped." The familiar tiny sound wave icon popped up next to his name in the waiting lobby. Next map, Strip Mall. He began forming his entire game plan in his head, down to which class he would use.
    "Shut the fuck up, you fucking nigger, camping assholes." A computerized voice came through his headset, but he failed to glance up at the name in time.
    "You're just butthurt that we pawned you." His friend TimWrecks said, as though rehearsed many times.
    "Only person who's butthurt is your mom after I fucked her last night." The voice was coming from XxX1337Sn1p3rXxX.
    "You mad?"
    "Fuck off fucking noobtubing camper."
    "Both of you shut the hell up, it's a goddamn game, do better next time." He said in response to the surprisingly low quality sound waves coming through the grey foam ear piece.

    Annoyed with it all he angrily pressed the glowing green button, and with a satisfying click, his television became a static blue, and all life left the entertainment box resting below the desk. He slipped his shoes off and wriggled out of his jeans and crawled the three feet to his bed before plopping down for a short four hour sleep before work.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Two Birds

    Our hero eyed the odd looking robin across the branch. The sun beating down through the lack of leaves onto the gleaming coats of the two birds. Three toed foot after three toed foot, our hero edged closer, trying to figure out what was so peculiar about this new rival. Before our hero could realize it, he was only a few inches away from this odd thing, with it's oddly beautiful feathers, the perfect way they were parted, the beak, so orange, so pointy... So perfect. It's eyes... Were... Looking... Right at him.

    Frozen, he stared at the odd creature, raising one bird eyebrow at it, and letting out a nervous chirp of invitation. He noticed how wonderful it smelled... If birds can smell, that is... Letting this new aroma drift into his beak's nostrils. How could a creature be so stunning? Our hero edged a hair closer, chirping again, more confidently now, before slowly stretching a wing out behind this feathery being. He softly let it alight on the back of his next challenge, and to our hero's delighted surprise, the new creature leaned into him, their feathers pressing against one another.

    Our heroine leaned into this handsome, dashing cardinal, impressed by his advances. She thought it cute how he was nervous, and her stomach wavered and fluttered as his wing, light as a feather, but strong as a branch, touched her back so softly, comforting and reassuringly. She chirped a girly, faltering chirp of affection, and our hero and heroine both let a little bird sigh of relief, and snuggled down together for a night's rest, happy having found mates.

Into the Night

    Out of the door, down the steps, his footsteps muffled by the rubber on the bottom of his boots. Past the rosemary bushes he had planted not too long ago, down his walkway to the sidewalk. Forward, he could see his neighbor's house across the street, the second floor bedroom light on, but curtains drawn.

    He smiled wryly to himself, with the knowledge that his neighbor knew nothing of what went on in our man's life. Then his smile faltered for a split second when he realized that he knew nothing of what went on in his neighbor's life... Oh well, it's of no concern to him.

    The night air stung his cheeks, with his coat collar pulled up to hide the back of his neck, the black cotton warm and comfortingly stiff as he moved left down the sidewalk. Past some trees and other driveways, very few lights on except for the streetlamps.

    He dug his hand into his pocket and removed his iPod, pressing the home button and sliding his finger across the screen to hear the familiar click. Over two pages, and a quick and assured tap on the in-house app he had created called, "WeAre" for the rest of his community to find other members out prowling the streets.

    Three blips on the imported Google Maps layout. The closest one only four blocks away. Delighted, he tapped the blip and a new window popped up. It was Maria. He took a sharp turn down Bright Street and continued walking, hoping he could catch her before she returned home.

Poison of the Damned

"Fucking poison ivy..." He thought with an annoyed tone as the rough circle on his wrist burned slightly more. He ran his past few escapades through in his mind. Not hunting, in any case, he had a long sleeve flannel shirt on. Maybe the building of the bonfire? Possible, it was dark in those woods, but he would have gotten more than just a spot on his wrist.
    He rubbed around the damned circle with his fingernails, trying to appease the nagging sensation, unsuccessfully. Dissatisfied he got up from his shadowy leather chair, swooped and pulled his coat on in one smooth motion, and was out the door in less than three seconds. Into the night again.