Arthur II Book IV Chapter 9

 

9.

Arthur was not the only one looking for Lancelot.

“Where is Lancelot? My father is dead and he is missing.” Lady Elaine was upset. No one could tell him where the knight was then. She threw her tantrums at the servants.

“Find him.” Lady Elaine told the servants. She went back to her chamber to clear her mind. If she can’t find Lancelot, she has to find another. She knew who that may be.

“I won’t be waiting here.” Lady Elaine told herself. She was not the only one exhausted with the missing lover. She will find Gawain for her task. He may still love her.

Guinevere also dressed up for her ride to see the damage done on the Augustus villa. Hers was to see if the Black Knight was involved, and if he was she had to find Lancelot to explain his action. Her ride was met by Master Meleagant and two of his guards.

“My Queen, what has made you come here? I was told that Arthur rode to battle the Sarmatians.” Octavia looked at the Queen. It was his first time facing her all alone and without the King.

“I ride for the Augustus home.”

“And I will provide the escort for you,” Octavia instructed his guards to follow him. The ride was however not to the Augustus but the villa of the Meleagant.

“Why am I brought here, Master Meleagant?”

“For your safety, my Queen. I feared your journey may be with dangers.” Octavia then signaled the guards to escort the lady to the assigned chamber. He left instructions that she was not be harmed and allowed food and drinks only. She was to be guarded at all times.

“Keep to your senses, son. You are committing a sin which may never be cleansed." The elderly Meleagant confronted his son. “You are mad to hold her here. I will inform the King. We must be clear of the intentions. I do not want to suffer the same fate as the others.”

“Who dares to attack us? Of the three families, only we are the surviving ones. We will prevail.” Octavia glared at his father. “As for her, she is mine. Only me can have her.”  

Guinevere heard him outside arguing with his father. She stepped away when she heard the steps towards her door. Octavia came in after he had opened the door. He latched it despite his father's hammering at it. He walked forth to see Guinevere.

Guinevere was seated on the flooring by the corner of the chamber holding onto a small stool in the right hand. She was forced to change into this nightdress by the servants while her gown lies on the dresser near the bedding.

"Come any closer, and I would club myself with this." Guinevere threatened the man. He stood back for a while and then he laughed.

"Guinevere, I meant you no harm. Why do you resist me?" Octavia looked at her. "Perhaps my sword scared you."

Octavia reached for his waist belt and removed it along with the sword. He also removed his boots and his jacket, now standing there only wearing his tunic and leggings.

"I am unarmed and like when we were young, I used to play with you in these clothes." He got onto his knees and then he sat down facing me. "It’s not like old times when we used to talk and laugh in this chamber. You would tell me of your silly dreams and me of my adventures. I admit most of them were made up to impress you."

Guinevere remembered none of it. She had never met him when she was young. He was mad in his thoughts.

"Meleagant, please let me go." Guinevere pleaded with him. "I am now with Arthur and I am faithful to him."

"Arthur! Faithful!" Octavia shouted out in anger. "Was your Lord faithful? I had seen him sneaking into other chambers. His sword pierced more virgins than you have ever offered. But mine is faithful to you."

Octavia stood up and pulled his legging down to show his manhood. Guinevere saw it and she has not seen one besides Arthur. And Lancelot.

“No, he was not seen. I only felt him.” Guinevere was in her thoughts. Then that man was showing it to her with its round reddish head pointing at her. He must have been proud of it as it stood upright on his command. He stroked at it to show that he was aroused by her but by then she had looked away.

"It’s for you only. I have not impaled it onto others. I am a virgin waiting only for you." Octavia flaunted his manhood at her, but she kept her eyes closed. He tried to push it at her face and then at her lips but she shook my head.

It was then Octavia leaned over and grabbed the stool away. He then grabbed at her shoulders to push her up to looked at his face.

"It does not matter if you are not anymore, but I am still a virgin. We can pretend we are both virgins. I promised you I will be gentle." Octavia said ever softly to her.

"No!" Guinevere shouted out. "I am never to be.....unfaithful. Please leave me now."

Guinevere pushed him away with all her might and turned to run away. In the move to run, he must have caught hold of her nightdress and the flimsy material tore off. She ended up at the other end of the chamber with only her hands to cover my modesty.

Octavia got up and looked at her. His eyes roved over her naked body before he in turn pulled off his tunic. He also stepped out of his leggings and stood there with his legs apart.

"I am ready too, Guinevere." Octavia smiled and walked forth to claim her. She ran again to the other side but he caught her in the run. He pulled her down to the flooring and climbed on top of her body. 

"Please don't fight me. I love you." Octavia tried to push himself in, but she had her hands over there thus preventing him from going in.

"Please, my Lord. I am unwell. Let me rest and we shall do it tomorrow." Guinevere pleaded with him and he stopped his thrusting.

"Yesterday you told me that you were unwell, and today you speak of the same. Why do you ladies like to taunt us with your lustful acts?" Octavia shouted at her. "Or you like us to force ourselves on you that you would feel the domination over us."

Guinevere raised her hands to cover her ears. He was mad in his words. She was not there the day before. She was only there that day. But when she moved her hands, he thrust himself forth and found his way in. It was not rough but smooth.

"Urghh! Don't...."Guinevere fought hard against the man above her as he impaled himself deeper with each new thrust.  It was uncomfortable initially and then it became more intense in the feeling. She wanted it. Arthur was not there for her often.

“No, I can’t.” Guinevere tried to kick him but he had forced her legs apart with his hips. She screamed out to shake off the feeling that was coursing through, and yet she cannot deny that it was making her feel wanted.

Guinevere cried out in every thrust he made. She arched her back to the throes of the new sensation. She did not know why, but she reached for his left hand to bring it to my unattended breasts. He was leaning over so he can reach it more and his kneading sent thrills to her. It was happening; the same urges that she felt when she touched herself alone in the darkness of the chamber. She leaned back and matched his thrusts. Soon, he sensed it as he thrust ever harder until he finally shot his load inside of me.

Octavia stopped his movement, but Guinevere was still humping back for the extra surge. Finally, she sank herself onto him after a long exhausting horse ride. He rolled over to spoon her from the rear. His hands were still resting on her hips.

"Thank you” Octavia whispered to her.

"Hold me please." Guinevere only whispered those words to him.  

 

Weekend Special Short Tales California 2.3 Chapter 6

 

6.

The thing about rough landing was that everyone was in the foul mood. I took the helm with Norwegian Vikings while the Captain and Benz stayed behind. Tiffany had not landed on the surface but maintained at the height of a hundred feet above it and then took off to the other side of the moon. The Captain was responding to the new alert.

 “Disembarking now.” I had strapped into the pilot seat held the joystick as if it was I was in the arcade bringing down the nasty crafts on the screen. My screen on the shuttle was a reinforced translucent glass with the three huge halogen light bulbs giving me a bright view of the front lawn. I powered the shuttle to a low hum and pulled the joystick to lift her rear and slowly inched her out from the rear of the ship. Once I had cleared the ship hull, I increase the power to move forth while leveling the helm to horizontal.

“Roach is ready for the task.” We had the shuttle codenamed Roach for it did resemble the pest insect that used to plague the homes. Well, it still did and what the scientist said about it was true.

“The cockroaches may even survive the nuclear holocaust if it ever happened.” It did and the pest did survive. Roaches were aplenty and at one stage were the snack meal roasted or ate raw. I hoped ours will do the good task of surviving us all in the tasks.

As I was cleared of the ship, I activated the shuttle lights on both sides and to the rear. I was not keen on being banged by the rear then. I did a brief scan on the surface to get a few of the terrain. It was mostly sands and boulders with no signs of anything organic. I updated the coordinates into the Shuttle system and let the navigation fly me there. It was a short trip of five minutes but we had to dive down the canyon and into the bottom before we saw the container. It had taken a rough landing from the looks of it.

“Container Five located. It looked intact.” I called back. “I am checking for damages. And hostiles.”

The shuttle was no military grade craft but it had a set of automated twin cannons on the helm aimed for pesky intruders. I had it armed and then ran the scan on the container against my ship manifest records.

“Two hundred and five pods accounted for.” Every pod held a transponder for verification so when the relatives get to collect the correct deceased. And no one bothers to open the pod to do a physical verification.

I looked to the rear and told the boys there to get ready. We need to do a physical check on the container. I know we did with thee scanners but the double verification was part of the protocol.

“Vikings, it’s your show now.” I called out.

Hagar and Hagen had donned the environment suits and hand carried their antique weapons. I knew their preference and hollered out to wear the shoulder holster with the blaster.

“Fucking out with it on now, boys. Or stay put.” I felt like their mother calling on the children. They did with some reluctance leaving the ancient weapons.

“I do not care if Valhalla will reject you if you used it but I will do if you don’t.” I had my limits with them. They stepped off the shuttle and proceed on the walk to the container. They had carried their tool box with them. It was a two hundred feet distance but with the uneven terrain and heavier gravity, it took them sometime. More to it, the winds there were blowing hard and they had half crouched to move forward. I had then flown the shuttle up gto a height of a hundred feel to allow me better coverage of the container.

I had their vitals on the console vids and it all looked healthy with some minor dents. I scanned the surrounding the area for any hostilities but I got was static and buzzing so it was no go. The view was not clear but I maintained the flight.

“We have reached the container. We are checking it now.” The container was a hundred twenty feet in length with a height of twenty feet and the width of twenty feet. The safety protocol denotes in such routines of checking the container in the harsh conditions, it was required that the personnel worked in pairs. I had them on the console vids with the shuttle installed cameras on their movement. When they moved out of sight while I hovered the shuttle above.

And in the master's chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can't kill the beast

“Fucked!” I got out of my seat and walked to the rear. There it was the entertainment pod of Hagen. He wore that at times when he was working. I was to smash it for playing that song but then it hit me then the song was entertaining.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis

It was then I got the alert.

Weekend Special Short Tales California 2.3 Chapter 5

 

5.

Benz with his overall unzipped heard the call to land the ship on the moon. He had then proceeded to his station at the Engine Chamber and leaned to look at the console. He has five vid screens to read the numbers that told him how the engine was responding. I did say he kept the ship at its best condition given the age and the amount of travel flights. Despite the workout, the ship was in very good hands of the veteran Engineer who had less than adequate tools to work on his previous cares at the military. He had during the battles, salvaged the needed components to get the crafts then at the hanger to be deployed.

Benz once told his aides, if it does not fix, attached it with the fast glue to the edges, and pray harder that you could live with that act.

“It is not science at works but arts to make it workable.” Benz told them. At his age, despite the advance in medication, he had neglected to treat his eye sight. He had placed on the specially fitted googles to take the readings. He was checking on Tiffany’s calibration and frowned. There were slight distortions on the readings from the main thrusters. He was sure that he had tuned the torque and pistons to the correct settings before the flight. He checked the logs and saw there were no changes in the reports until two hours ago. It was altered the settings. He picked up the communicator to speak to the Captain.

“Captain, I have….”

“Not now. If you can fix it, do it. I have to retrieve the container. It’s on the moon.” The Captain replied.

At that moment, Tiffany the ship was entering the moon atmosphere which in most cases was thin but that one was heavy with a thick deep atmosphere. The scanners picked up a variety of gases and the descent of the ship caused frictions that ignited the gases. The ship was protected by the reinforced hull with the heat exchanger plates and shield plating that deflected the heat. The Captain did not turned on the force field shield for that was to protect the ship in the case of an attack by hostile parties but it also took up power consumption.

“Benz, I am registering temperature at the starboard.” I had called in. It was my task as the navigator to monitor the ship integrity and with the junk we were on, every reading needed attention.

Benz moved from the console to the warp core and then passed it to the coolant console. He saw the starboard reading and compensated with the re-routing of the coolants from the rear which was not so badly affected by the heat. The reading on the starboard dipped and he got his thanks from me.

I saw the coolant had worked and sighed with relief.

Not for Benz though. He was checking the heat exchanger plates and noted the deterioration of the sets at the starboard. He had reported it earlier to the Captain but was told to stay with it.

“We are not landing the ship on any surface. We will use the shuttle to travel to the surface. And more to it, I need to check on another alert nearby.”

Benz took to his usual checks on the engines wobbling on the walks when the ship shakes on its entry. It was the usual with Hagar and Hagen. They were at the bottom level at rear end of the ship checking the Shuttle. The Shuttle was an oblong designed craft where the front housed the glass cockpit for the single pilot and the foldable seating for four at the rear. It held the engine above the hull with its single thruster and the bottom of the hull was the ski plates. The entry to the shuttle was by the rear doorway that opened downwards. The other exit was the detachable cockpit glass upon emergencies.

The shuttle held four environment suits with the breathing apparatus and survival kits that held the dry rations and medic kit with the flare tubes. There is the affixed lamp on the left shoulder while the head piece was a half sphere glass cover with the communication antenna on the left. The communication unit was built into the head piece. The lamp was on the right side of the head piece to give extra light to the wearer.

And in the case of hostility as the norm of the Earthlings, there was the rack of five blasters and two rifles with the extra clips of energized ammo.

“Do you think we will get to pillage?” Hagen looked at his brother. It was in their genetic makeup and they still valued the ancient ways.

“I have polished my battle axe for the task, and my shield is ready.” Hagar smiled. He held up the ancient weapons to show his brother. “I have also our ancestor’s knifr; the plain single edge knife and mallet.”

“Skol!” Hagen called out their ancestor battle cry.

“Shut up!” I heard their enthusiasm and I was fucking upset. So, I spread my mood across. “Get the grappling attached. We may need it.”

The grappling was an add-on tool that can be affixed to the front of the Shuttle. It was a set of a hard extension that reached out at over ten feet and at the end was the metal tentacle fixture with the three pronged grips that worked like a set of fingers. At the center of the grip was the drill that allowed the pilot to punch holes on the surface. It may lift up to half a ton.

“We are through the atmosphere.” The Captain called out.

“Benz, I want the diagnostics done. We had a tougher than expected ride. There is something not right with the engine. I can feel it.” The Captain reminded the Engineer.

“Ich weiß davon, Hauptmann.“ (German for I know of that.) Benz replied in his native tongue. He was agitated as it was. 

 

Dante Book 1 Canto 1 Chapter 1

 

Chronicles of Dante’s

The Journey of Life Events of Man.

 

Jimmy Loong

11/4/2021 to 3/5/21

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inferno_(Dante)

 

Part One

 

Introduction and Notes to the Tale.

On the day of me having celebrated the living years in my lifetime, I had embarked on the challenge of doing an adaption of the Divine Comedy (The Divine Comedy (Italian: Divina Commedia [diˈviːna komˈmɛːdja]) is a long Italian narrative poem by Dante Alighieri, begun c. 1308 and completed in 1320, a year before his death in 1321.) or you can read it here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Divine_Comedy

Initially, it looked like fun to adapt that. I had the storyline had differed to the future with a glimpse of scifi. But what I did not bargain for was the reference to the belief then. I did read articles on the Divine Comedy but nothing prepared me for the depth of the tale, and its relevance to God. 

Okay, no major issue there. I had my tale adapted, and after a series of more readings and writing, I have done what I will call Part One. In the original tale, there are 99 Cantos split equally into 33 Cantos per part; Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. I did up to 13 Canto for Part One of Hell over a month of reading and writing, at 37,469 words. 

Beforehand, I have to convey my apologies if I may have offended anyone in the faith on the references in my tale. This is not the Divine Comedy but an adaption and there were changes to its contents.

And I hope you will read it for the literary works.

Cheers

 

 

 

Prelude

“Dante Alighieri, I am telling you that you are a fool to volunteer your life in this war for Empress Beatrice. You owe her nothing but she does to you the right to live.” The words reached the mind of the male figure in his mid-thirties, then covered in dust and dirt over the clothes he wore for over a month, uncleaned and torn in the seams. The man named Dante, as he was fondly called by his friends placed on a weak smile was leaning against the tree trunk there, shrugged his shoulders. He was dressed in the uniform of the Empress Volunteer Army; grey and dark shades of the tunic and pants, tucked into the laced boots over his feet. He had a headcover but it was long gone, and his hair was untidy and streaked to below his shoulders. His facial was covered by the unkempt growth of hair, and his eyes were weary in the expression. He had on the vest with the multitude of slots to hold the tools provided by the Army; the few bars of energy packs for the handgun and rifle assigned to him, the nursing band-aids should he be wounded, and the torch for the night patrols. He has the dagger tucked into his waist belt for the close personal wraths.

“Are you mocking us, Marcello? We are so named six volunteers here although most of us were recruited in by vile methods.” The one seated next to Dante addressed the person who was talking earlier. That was Stefan who the most experienced in the squad. Stefan had volunteered to the Army after his retirement from the long service after three tours of six years each and was forced to retire, but he volunteered the last three years.

“Yes, we are all loyal subjects to Empress Beatrice of the Imperial Regime.” Marcello laughed out loud. He then turned towards Dante. “I thought you were…”

“I was one too. I have been a fool for all my learning years but I was not prepared for this. I am a scholar of words but….” Dante sighed. “Truly wasted efforts they were.”

“Wasted indeed, for now, you are putting your life for the Empress in a war which will not end with your death. Tell me some words of solace for your effort, learned one?”

Dante searched his mind and came up with these lines.

“So bitter is it, death is little more;
  But of the good to treat, which there I found,
  Speak will I of the other things I saw there. “

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1001/1001-h/1001-h.htm#CantoI.I (Translated works of Dante’s Inferno to English)

“It’s from Dante’s Inferno, the early lines of his poem. Like him, I felt death is little more, but I will find more that I sought.”

“Words, Learned one. It means nothing to all of us here with you. How long have we fought this war? Six years and you the learned friend, you are in it for over six months.”

“Alas, I was a learned man. Since before the war for six years, I had not used my skills on the writing materials with the words telling the experiences of my life, although I did my service of God, for five years before I volunteered and yet…” Dante was interrupted by Marcello who earlier questioned his role there.

“Dante Alighieri, I…” Dante heard the other but seldom had he used his full name.

“Benevolent one,” Dante taking on the tone of sarcasm. “I preferred to call on as Dante VI, as the name given by my mother; Bella, taken from the poet which I had recited a small part of his poem.” Dante told the other. “She named me for it meant enduring; lasting or ever ---”

“Your poet’s poem may had endured itself the generations, but would yours to endure for the Empress here end with your death?” Marcello who was been mocking Dante sounded out. “Where is your father in this naming? Mr. Alighieri? He’s around?”

“Marcello Quinto, one more word out of you on Dante’s …” The new voice to lend challenge to defend Dante’s honour was another named Stefan Denarii. He was their current squad leader upon the death of the previous one, Senior Volunteer Claude Degas. They were eight when Dante came to join them making their numbers to nine. In that six months, they lost three of their men to make it down to six.

“It’s okay, Stefan.” Dante eased the tension then. “My father, Alighieri di Bellincione X. God rest his soul.”

“A Guelph! I know your kind.” Marcello roared out. “Supporter of the Pope who was acceded the power of the Emperor then, when it was to be delegated to the Stauffer’s and the Dukes upon the death of the last Emperor. As like once before. Politics and power go in circles, and never ending till the end of time, it may.”

“Ghibellines! Stop dragging the rife between your kind and his. We are here to battle in a war that is now an extension of your conflict. An Empress against the Emperor, a country split by half, brothers and sisters looking to kill each other …” Stefan snapped at Marcello. “It’s a civil war, you fool.”

“Second Civil War, Stefan.” Marcello called out. “The first was out forefathers’ generations ago, and now our blood feud once more. Am I wrong, poet? The Guelph and the Ghibellines; bah, we are never to settle our feud any time here or even after death.”

“Like us here where we wore the Imperial insignia to kill the other. I wonder if our heart bears the same motive without the war?” Marcello glared at Dante. He then looked at Stefan. “I am not for the Empress or the deranged Emperor but the country to be one again. I am fighting to end the war. We all bleed the same shade of blood and cries to the same pain.”

“Heed those words, poet who is here. Those are my beliefs here.” Marcello sneered at Dante. The latter was to reply when he heard the call of alert that their superior officer was to attend them. The squad of six volunteers stood up from their restful position and waited for their officer.

“At ease, men.” Junior Officer Glauca Meniere approached the squad. He was dressed like them, with the exception he had on the steel helmet that gave him the added protection to his head. He stopped before the six men and ignored their untidy appearance or their non-conformity to salute a senior officer.

“Third Squad, you are given two tasks to perform. In the first one, you will take the right flanking position while the main Sixth and Ninth companies take the front. Your task will be to counter any flanking move by the other side.”

“Officer Meniere, what can the six of us do when the attacking numbers exceed us?” It was Stefan who queried the move. He had fought in many battles and knew when one was a suicidal move like the one where they were to embark on.

“Volunteer Stefan, you are promoted to Senior Volunteer, and to your question, hold the line as to allow us to send you reinforcements.” The Officer looked hard at Stefan. “You should know that we don’t question orders handed to us.”

“God help us.” It was Dante who uttered those words of comfort and was snapped on by Marcello.

“Dante, spare the Pope to seek your help from God. We are seeing the Almighty soon.” Marcello laughed.

“And our second task?” Stefan asked like a good soldier.

“Ah, yes. That one is to gather intelligence on an enemy base here. We are across the enemy boundary and there were reports of a hidden base.” The Officer gave the brief on it. “You are to affirm the location only.”

“Squad, prepare to move out in three. We are short of time here now.” The Officer then looked at Dante. He handed over the pouch he had slung over his left shoulder.

“Inside the bag is the communication set which you can call us to raise reinforcements.” The Officer reached in to draw out the metallic orb unit that fitted into his right hand. “It's called VIRGIL.”

Dante heard of VIRGIL (Vigilance Remote Guard Intelligence); an automation unit used for intelligence gathering and communications. It was able to project holographic projection in communications.

“This unit is adapted to the enemy’s frequencies and will be able to tap into their communications, hence may give you an advantage there. We added a weapon to it. It’s a Sonar Emitter and can be harmful to whoever it was projected on. It's only short burst but lethal.” The Officer placed the unit onto Dante’s right hand. “Among the squad members, you are the learned one and may find it useful.”

“Officer, I am not a killer. I have only…” Dante abhors killing. It was a sin to him, unforgivable by God.

“Volunteer, I knew you were a preacher before, and allow me to recite these lines for you; For he is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer. God will forgive you for that.”

“But can I forgive myself?” Dante questioned back.

“We never do which is why comes Judgment Day, we let God do it for us.” The Officer smiled and then walked away.

“Move out in three.” Stefan the newly appointed leader called out. “And may you come back alive.”

 Note: This is my first draft and may you enjoy it as much as I did the write. Thanks.

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 61

 Remorse in Flames

 

Author's Note:

The title was given and words to describe it. Instead, I gave it a screenplay approach.

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I am to write this like I am doing a play. I need to engage my audience in my backdrops and movements. This is my first attempt so please bear with me.

 

Now is the time.

 

( Backdrop of clouds and the view to the lands below. The Sun is coming up and the moment of truth is becoming clear. You are standing at the side to see him with her standing at the edge of the cliff. It's pure white on the ground as it's wintertime. )

 

The winter snow on the world’s plate is almost pure. How they’ve taken all of it for granted seems impossible this moment. Songs and light are the loveliness of the days, seeing far into the past. Can you grasp onto my wrist and bring me back?

 

( you moved your stare to your hands clasped together ever tightly. You wished it was his on yours but you see are only yours alone. Your expression is sadness and then anguish as you looked back at them. You move both your palms to your heart and feel its beat. )

 

Your name is engraved in my heart with so many cuts and bleeding. I’m falling apart from my sanity, watching your fingers intertwine with hers… and your face is so empty: no hurt, and no regret, just the coldness of being lost.

 

( Tear welled on your eyes but they cannot be held back by you. You closed it to remember the past moments when he held yours. )

 

I’m so light. It feels like feathers soaked with tears in my spirit, where I am so numb and broken. I scream your name a thousand times, but you never hear me, for my words are silent whispers to you. Where the fires used to be, it’s missing. You’ve let go.

 

( You leap off the cloud to soar with the wind. You opened your mouth to scream but no sounds can be heard in the strong winds. Your flight takes you higher than before into the dark space above you. )

 

I would die to feel your lips on mine again.

 

I’m dissolving inside myself, fading from my life. I’ve lost everything I lived for, and I’m finally just the nothingness of imaginary years. No one remembers who I was, not even you. I’m almost there, in invisibility.

 

( The wind has died down to nothing as you float in the empty atmosphere. You are alone; feeling lonely; your directions lost; your desire gone; you are a vessel without a soul now. But you still looked for your previous love as you float there, but he is not seen anymore. )

 

I want to hold onto you forever, but now I realize that I was a distraction from your destiny all along. She has been yours since your first breath and always will be. I’m so sorry.

 

( You sighed in remorse; it was an unrequited love after all. You thought and you tried but yours was not to take what already given. You felt the remorse to had felt that and you are resigned to your new fate. )

 

And even as I long to feel the fury you deserve for tearing me in two, there is none. All remaining is the fragile forgiveness and tears I’ll never shed. This pain and near memories leave me behind in the past.

 

( Your face lit up in anger at your treatment. Its shows in the glare of your eyes, but it subsides as it started for you know you were the one in the wrong. You looked away and feel no more need to see him. )

 

Today is the last time you’ll be freed from humanity. The silver glow is taking over the world, filling the skies. I swear I won’t let it happen again. It hurts too much to watch you change.

 

The backdrop moved from dark to silver glows from the sides. The glow projects to the land below. You know what it meant, and you tried to fly towards it. Use your body to block it but you are in space and all you do was float. You looked in fear as the silver streak shoots down to the land. Your hands reached up and cover your face. )

 

Will you hear me this time? I love you so much.

 

( You mumbled to yourself lest he can be spared. )

 

The angels are coming to take me away from this darkness. Tonight, I'll escape and maybe breathe again.

 

( Your rightful guardians appeared and they hold you by your arms. They motioned you to follow them. You have to but you looked back once again. Your face tells it all; you will come back again. )

 

My conduct of the characters plays to showcase the emotions. The last part was the most difficult as she has given up hope ( and love ) yet she wants to seek him. That is confusing to me. But here is my take of the story.

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 60

 The Fisherman's wife and the Flounder

 

Author's Note:

Write about the sea. I decided to go fishing instead.

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Do we wish upon the stars but in our hearts, we hoped we can just touch the clouds? Sometimes we do that knowing that the unreachable is only a desire, but we should be happy with us what we can get.

 

So our story began.

 

For years, the old couple lived by the sea and lived off it. They have in their possession the boat and the house, which has a fireplace that keeps them warm. It does provide shelter to them on stormy days and since they built this house; it withstood several bad storms.

 

But the days of fishing are getting different, and fewer go out to fish nowadays. This is because the current fisherman has the technical assistance of technology that can detect the fishes and the boats that can swallow up by the loads these school of fishes. So the old way of casting a net and pulling in the net by man was over. And so did the number of fishermen.

 

But not this old man; he does it the old way. He sails out and he cast his net, and he waits. And his boat will float to the movements of the tide and he would have his umbrella when it's too hot. And he will come back by dusk with his catch. You can tell by the way he walks to the house. He is either smoking his pipe or not. If he does, it's a good catch; if not, he does not smoke as yet.

 

For days, the fisherman’s wife watches outside her window for her husband. And how she reacts depends on the walk too. If he is smoking, she will prepare for him his glass of brandy. If he is not, she will lay out two glasses to share with him his story of the old days.

 

Today was no exception, he was walking with his pipe in his mouth. But he is not smoking it. So she was confused.

 

‘Henry, you did not smoke today. What happened?’ The distraught wife asked as her fisherman husband walks in the door.

 

‘Them tobacco was wet from the splashing of the fish. I had no refills with me. Here is your fish now.’ so he handed over the only one fish he caught today.

 

‘One fish is better than no fish I guess’, she was hoping for more to store in the fridge. So I guess, it's those chicken’s last days again. I wondered who will volunteer; nay, they never did. I had to catch them and slit their throat to ease their pain. Bloody noise brats; not like the fish. They won't come quiet and die more silently. So she took the only fish he caught and took it to the kitchen. She laid it in the sink and thought of the 101 ways to cook it. And the fish spoke to her.

 

‘Psst, ma’am. Can you spare me fins for today? I will grant you wishes of whatever you want.’

 

She took a look at the fish and said; ‘did you just speak to me?’

 

‘Yup, that’s me. I am Fortis, the Flounder. I am more than a fish; I am magical fish. You see I am the last of the Flounder. Your fishing industry has reduced my fellow fishes to less than 10% in the ocean. So statically speaking given that we are reduced to almost 10%, I am probably the only one with the magical power. Though we are good at camouflaging, your damned technology still swept us off the ocean floor. So I do you a favor if you do me mine.’

 

‘Magical fish? That will be the day, I become young and beautiful again.’ And so she did; she was herself when she married the fisherman. She could not believe herself, and she ran out to see the fisherman.

 

‘Look, Henry. It's me. I am young again. Do you remember me?’

 

Now Henry was about to smoke his pipe after having sipped his brandy. He gave a bad cough and spoiled his tobacco again. But he looked up at the lady who is his wife now aged backward by twenty-five years. He remembered her then as the lady in the sundress who brightens up even the downcast days. ‘Drowning Neptune, what did you do? You looked like the day we got married.’

 

And so she told him of the fish that gave her wish and he is the last of his kind. And he was happy and joyous. Then he stopped to sit down on his chair and had that looked she knew very well.

 

‘I know, Henry. We can turn the clock back, but we can’t turn our life back. And you won’t want to be young and going fishing again like the old days. You like these days now, You get your fishing done, fish or no fish, but you get the weekend with the grandkids. They always bring their smile to us when they are here. And I am not waiting for another twenty-five years to see that again. So be it.’

 

So the fisherman’s wife walked back to the kitchen and told the fish;’ deal’s off. You are on my recipe list tonight when the grandkids come home from their playing. So au revoir, and say hello to the rest.’ And so was her looks.

 

Outside the house, there were two hen’s looking at each other; one said to the other ‘told you the ventriloquist taught me well. We live another day. So pay me back my peck of rice now. ’

 

'Yeah, but I broke his spectacles. So who's paying me? The ducks?'

 

( we wished many things in life that we forget to see the wishes that came true in front of us now. )

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 59

 A day in the life as an Olympian

 

Author's Note:

The picture says it all.

 

 

Olympus; a city on a floating island up among the clouds; where the Gods reside, twelve great Gods and Goddess worshiped by the ancients during the reign of early Greece. Here twelve Gods known as Olympians dwell although some of them do have their kingdom like Hades with the Underworld and Poseidon his vast oceans nevertheless they choose to grace themselves here when their world called not for them.

 

Here the Olympians lay open their true self as they feast on ambrosia and nectar while the Olympian of Music plays the muse for their pleasure. On occasion, the music could be accompanied by the sounds of flute from the offspring of Hermes, his son Pan.

 

"I wondered where is our fearless leader, Zeus? I have not seen him since Apollo chariot has run past the highest zenith point of the day today?" Dionysus, the Olympian of drinks and food was muttering to himself as he lies on the marble arch that acts as his bench to sleep. Among him at the hall were his fellow Olympians, Hermes the God of Travel and Trade, Athena the Goddess of Strategy and Wisdom, and the ever frowning and serious looks of an Olympian, Ares the God of War. There is one other who is not truly an Olympian but mixed with that of the mortals; Hercules displaying his masculine physique to the serving maidens. He is a slice of his father, Zeus in him as randy is to his second nature.

 

"Zeus? Oh, he is courting Mother on the third island off her in the garden of flowers." Athena points her spear in the general direction where the third island lays off ours to the right.

 

"What's he done now? Another bastard of his among those he sown his seeds. I am amazed that the creature has got more bolts there than on his hands." Hermes was commenting on his leader's promiscuity antics. "No offense to you, Hercs. You are an exception to the comment. I like your new looks though. Did it get it at my shops on Oxford Street? Told you I had the taste to be branded with their products. If it's your father, his would-be on those in the basement bookshops with brown paper wrapping."

 

"Yeah, the one with the length and guaranteed to satisfy." Athena was being sarcastic at her birth father as she was given birth from the head of Zeus. She has a personal dislike for him for that. "Hey, I am talking with true wisdom. I used it one before and all I got was a dead battery. It ran out before I even came."

 

"Blame not the tool but the carpenter." Those were the words of Hephaestus, God of Craft as he took his place with the Olympians. "So who is unlucky bastard now? Ares? Poseidon or Zeus?"

 

"Spare me your accusations, Hephaestus. Since you caught us, I have not lain with your wife. So name not me into this discussion. Ares was caught in an uncompromising position with the wife of Hephaestus; the Goddess Aphrodite. Hephaestus has caught the two in his net and dragged them to the hall to be viewed by all the Olympians.

 

"Spare the leader some comfort. He has us to govern as his leader, plus the Titans, and not forgetting the Primordial, then the deities and semi ones too. He needs some outlets at times. And what better ways than to seek it off Olympus." Dionysus was just trying to justify the action of the big man.

 

"Now I know why Zeus wanted the series of little islands that spiral down like from here to mortal's land. It looks faster than to wait for Apollo's Chariot. Yup, that one is a one-way trip per day, and it's a round trip around the world. " Hermes stood at the edge of the island looking down at the series of islands below. It does like spiral steps to the mortal land. Then he looked back at the long slab of stone that stood in the middle of the island like an elongated mushroom stalk. "I think I won't comment on that one."

 

"Anyone who wants to comment on that phallic design of granite should look to the Cyclops. They build it on Zeus' request. It's his idea of art, not mine." Hephaestus was quick to deny any reference to him of that hideous thing that stands upright on the island.

 

"I can agree. When you asked the Cyclops to do something, they got their eye on it for details but never on the overall feel of it. No wonder you don't see any females Cyclops anymore. They prefer to evolve than to be a stand-up comedian when commenting on the performance level of their lovers. Hail to their extinction soon." Goddess Athena could be intoxicated by the ambrosia or she just being wise to the fact known among the ladies gossips. She looked sheepishly at Hercules as he decided to take his game of chess with Ares to somewhere private. "There goes one more to the other side. Guess the best I can do is rely on my fantasy for the final countdown." She was soon counting her sheep wool beneath the wolf cover.

 

"Hermes, it's only the three of us left. Shall we also drink to our content and play our flute to some soothing notes?" Hermes looks to Dionysus. His thoughts were stamped on his expression; 'lest I tire myself in running than to be blown over by him.' Hermes took to his heels followed by his son on the heels with the goat limbs.

 

Hephaestus looked to his drunken friend and shake his head; "Pardon me, Dionysus. But Aphrodite has promised me a new tune to our love if I bring her my flute. I must be off with it or I would have no music to accompany it. " The God of Crafts leaves the drunken Olympian to his own.

 

Dionysus reached from under him, his latest acquisition; the clarinet. He beckons the serving maidens towards him. And he told them why he discarded the old flute. "This clarinet is longer and it plays more tunes. I could demonstrate to you but you must get in line as there are somethings in an immortal life that cannot be rushed lest it ends too fast before its time."

 

The music of the new instrument can be heard from the islands that spiral to the clouds on the city of Olympus. It's loud and screaming hot.