Tuesday, September 20, 2016

New Thread

Not to be a flake, but things got a little too real in the real world and the Stream of Consciousness suffered. I found myself pushing through and the story suffered. I couldn't bring myself to continue the current Stream because it was too much work with my personal life. rather than force an artificial thought process I decided to abandon the current story until I can give it the time and attention it needs to be successful.
I will pick up this story where we left off sometime in the future so readers will not have to wonder what happened to our Hero on his Journey.
I will be starting a new thread soon. I'm really looking forward to this thread. Hopefully it will be as interesting for you as it will be for me.

Monday, September 5, 2016


We have been in the city for months and still we have not seen the face of our enemy. They are here. I can sense them in every quarter, following our movements from their secret hiding places. We freed the common people from their oppressors and yet instead of welcoming us with grateful hearts they have poisoned our wells and set fire to our barracks. I was charged with leading our men into the city to round up the instigators, but all we found were old men and weak women huddled in their beds.

            We wade through streets ankle deep in filth and excrement only to the disdain of the people who we are trying to protect. Late in the day we captured a young woman trying to slip through a weak spot in the wall. I captured her and put her in chains. Her wailing nearly softened my heart to her pleas and I approached her to release the binds on her hands. As I reached towards her she grabbed my wrist and pulled it towards her face. I managed to twist away from her grip, but not before she bit into my flesh and tore out a chunk of my hand. I thought at first she was just trying to defend herself, but I could make out the movement of her throat as she swallowed down my flesh, licking her lips and grinning at me with blood stained lips.

            “Such sweet tasting flesh.” Her voice was raspy and harsh and I noticed her teeth were sharpened to a fine point. Not as tender as we are used to, but you’ve had more years to mature than our usual fare.”

            It took me some time to realize the kind of fare she was talking about. The city suffered from a lack of resources. Even the dogs and cats usually found roaming the alleyways seemed to be sorely lacking. There’s an overabundance of rats, but every city always has an overabundance of rats. It’s the lack of children I find particularly disturbing. There are a number of pregnant young females around, some of whom became pregnant not long after our takeover of the city. Some of the men are keeping their favorites close and the relief in their carriage speaks volumes. I want to tell the men if they want to protect their offspring from the cooking pots they need to either bring the girls with them through the rest of the war or find a way to bring food through the blockades and into the city.

            Of all the damage I have seen in this war it is the unseen horrors of those caught in the middle that disturbs me the most. There is no such thing as innocence here. We have brought the war to the city and the residents have expressed the desire to have the evil they know rather than the evil of the unknown. As long as they are unfed and unwashed we will be unwelcome. The people will gather at the gates and open them wide when the enemy wagons roll across the bridge and through the mud to entrench themselves around the city.

            We must clear out the rats and purge the city of the contagion. Now, I must soak the wound caused by the nails and teeth of the woman before they fester. My friends are gathering at the mess hall to eat their evening meal. The idea of eating the meat swimming in brown gravy churns my stomach. I’ve seen the hunks of dried beef they use to create our meals, but the knowledge of the meat being used throughout this city takes away my appetite. I will not eat tonight. If we are to protect the children from the feast we need to find a way to feed the people.

Friday, September 2, 2016


There’s something to be said about dodging enemy fire bringing friends together. Before this war the only people I really cared for was my family. My friends and I used to go out together at home. We would drink and play and act like fools. What kind of games would we play? I don’t think it really matters. We were young and we were fools.
We would play at war. “Look at me!” We would call out and beat our chests and tell anyone who came in range of our imaginary weapons to beware or we would kill them. We would play dead on the fields of battle. Our pristine, pale skin absorbing the sunlight as our bodies quivered with suppressed mirth at our attempts to create the most grotesque positions we could imagine. I’ve seen the contortions of death first hand now and know our attempts at horror paled in comparison.
The companions of my youth have melted away and now I am left with the survivors of the battles as my friends and companions. Each of us bear the scars of pain and death. Some of which can also be seen upon the surface of our skin, others can only be found deep within our minds and souls.
I had many friends when I first began this adventure, but the war has taken most of them from me. They have either faded away because of the horrors of this war or have been taken from us on the field of battle. Now, there are only the four of us standing. We are what remains.

When we started this we were promised honor and glory, but there is nothing honorable in the death I have seen and the heavens have not showered glories upon my head. I scramble in the dirt to find cover. I sometimes shoot first, before I have even taken aim at the enemy and sometimes wonder if it was my weapon that pierced the skin of my companions. Death will come to us all in the end. I do not fear death; He has become as much of a companion to me as the friends who stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me upon the field of battle. When He comes I will greet Him with a smile, wrap my arms around Him and give Him a welcome kiss.

I am returning to my 30 days.

Thank you for allowing me this pause. I have been fighting my own personal battle and I had ot let something go. Now I am getting back to writing. I will continue the 30 days story from where we left off and try to get this next beeok out by the end of the month.
Who knows what battle will be coming up next.

Great Lines Think Alike

Every once in a while a line will pop into my head and I find myself needing to write it into a story. My most recent line: I will die a ...