Sworded Tales

Jimmy sat on the sled as only a child could, lower legs pinned beneath him despite the chill of a day’s play. The woman sitting beside him was underdressed for the crisp January air, but she showed no sign of caring what nature intended. Her eyes were cast down the hill, gaze following the myriad sled trails as they coursed toward the sluggish creek beyond. The collection of neighborhood children lined up on the other side of Jimmy waited still and silent while the pair talked.

“You’re sure?” she asked. “Things could get a little scary.” Continue reading

Another hammer stroke broke the silence.

“Really?” Paul yelled his disgust. That was the third bird to crash into the windows in as many minutes.

The white noise of the pellet stove did little to mute the clang of the unexpected collisions. The pounding of Paul’s heart sympathized. There was nothing like sudden impact to get the blood racing. Continue reading

The ANSS predicted the earthquake. The timing coincided with the growing category four hurricane, Hidalgo. Anyone with any sense had vacated the coast several days ago. Even the radicals and the chasers had started packing up this morning. Hidalgo’s caress was just now starting to feel like pawing, but the quake was due any hour. There weren’t many that wanted to witness their rock solid reality ripple like the waves.

Ajay didn’t plan on missing it. His days were numbered anyway. Continue reading

It was just like in the movies, the madness squawked at Edgar as he sprinted through the cornfield. The thought did little to comfort him as harrowed stalks slapped him with indifferent glee. Each wind-sharpened husk delighted in carving a millimeter trough of flesh from his skin, creating a symphony of pain as sweat trickled across the strings of blood.

Edgar had always wanted to be in the movies, and now here he was in the scene of his life. He didn’t think that anyone was going to yell cut here though. He wouldn’t have heard them anyway, not over the roar of the fire. His Suburban had exploded with unexpected gusto, and the surrounding harvest was now paying the price. He hadn’t seen the big boom, only felt the shockwave and the gust of heat. He’d been quite a few rows into the corn by then, legs pounding. One didn’t tarry when the madman gave you a head start. Continue reading

She dreamt the world was gone, and when she opened her eyes, it was so.

Enlightenment had become a myth, a gleaming memory in the stories of legend. Buried were the desires of the shuffling masses, the will to strive, to achieve a higher state of being. Smothered by a perpetual landslide of mediocrity, lives filled with purposeless consumption. When the spirit had been so crushed, were not those who wandered only a facet of the living dead? Continue reading

“Forgotten what?”  Gordon struggled to squeeze the words into reality.

“Your nature.”  The reply roared in his ears with deafening purpose.  His mind, his memories were scathed by the simplicity of the world around him.  The complexion of all life evolved from a single instant.  That conception had a guardian. Continue reading

“We’ve talked about this,” Andi said, “How unhealthy this kind of dieting can be.  Yes, you’re getting results, but you’d be so much better off making–”

“A lifestyle change,” Carl finished, “Yes, I know.  Thing is, I like my lifestyle.  It’s more about exerting control though.  About proving a point.”  He stopped talking then.  Not because he had finished his train of thought, but because the smell of freshly baked cookies assailed him.  He almost choked on his spit and he swallowed the thick gobs with a click. Continue reading

Gordon turned and thought he had found God.  He had escaped the religion of his youth unscathed, and while not an entirely spiritless person, he considered himself a good deal more pragmatic and realistic than the average soul.  He grounded his beliefs in reality and what he could perceive.

So what the fuck was he looking at exactly? Continue reading

“Well I hope she puts on ten pounds because of it,” Andi said.

“And anger the bear with a sore ass that much further?” Carl replied.

Andi winced sideways and shook her head in her usual I-suppose-not routine.  Her head tilted back the other way and she stared at him with that look that had captured his soul.  The cookies had a hold of him, true enough, but for her, Carl would forego them until the end of days.

“How do you convey that out loud though?” he said, out loud. Continue reading

There were dreams then.  Or what Gordon presumed to be dreams, for his world had long ago ceased to touch upon what he considered reality.

A tree made of butterflies, skeletal at its heart but feathered with a million wings the size of his head.  He would have dismissed them utterly had not the trembling earth with its sulfurous exhale sent the host of insects fluttering skyward in a cascade of creams and greens. Continue reading