Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Economics

“Hey! Wake up.”

“What??”

“You were snoring!”

“I was just resting my eyes. Seriously, I wasn’t sleeping!”

“Jill heard you on the other side of the room.”

“Its just my sinuses in this a/c.”

“Yeah, OK. Say whatever you want, but she called me to wake you up!”

“Crap. Did the big guy hear?”

“I don’t think so, he’s been in that meeting with Chris from the app team.”

“What are they meeting about?”

“Some problem with the app, I think. It sounded like the billing was screwed up and customers were complaining.”

“Shit that means its going to be a long night.”

“Not for me. I’m out of here – now!”

“You suck.”

The door opens and Chris walks out, not looking at me. “Mr. Smith, got a minute.”

“Yessir. What do you need?”

“Close the door.”

I close the door and nervously sit in the chair. Its still warm from Chris.

“There’s no easy way to say this. You’ve been a valuable member of the team but with the current economic situation and the tight budgets…”

I start to think, “Oh no, here it comes. He heard me snoring and now I’m out the door. Shit, what am I going to do. Sheila is going to kill me!”

“...so, congratulations!”

“What?”

“Congratulations on moving over to Chris’ team as lead designer.”

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The Traveler

OK, I have been thinking about the last contest and my entry. Now that I’ve had time to think, I’ve put together a second story which I think is more what was being looked for.

Let me know what you think…


---

The old man stumbled. A hundred pounds must surely be what his pack weighed with the obvious effort every step took. His legs trembled, the sweat beaded his brow. His shirt was stained dark from it dripping.

He visibly gathered himself as, after a pause, he set off once more. Struggling to reach his destination. No one else paid him any heed. The other patrons in the cafe didn’t seem to see him at all.

I couldn’t watch him struggle any further as he started to pass. Getting up from the table, I quickly put out my hand grabbing his soaking tunic as he practically fell into the street. He started to shrug off my help but collapsed into a heap. The only thing keeping his head from being split was my grip.

His breath was shallow and quick. I sat him on the curb and bent to put my mug to his cracked, bleeding lips. His face was covered in dirt and as he swallowed some of the ale he seemed to reanimate. He grabbed my arm as he coughed and spewed a mixture of blood and ale onto my shirt. I noticed his nails were manicured. His hair, while filthy was neatly trimmed as was his beard.

Something wasn’t right. My head exploded in agony.

I realized as I fell my cargo was lost. My employer would be extracting a heavy price for not delivering the stones. Stopping for an ale was to be my ruin.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

First contest entry...

OK, I have to admit I'm just a little disappointed that I wasn't chosen as a finalist in the Clarity of Night writing contest I recently entered. It was my first ever attempt at writing fiction for others to judge. I took the approach that I wanted to write it my way and not read any of the other finalists or winners from other contests, before I submitted my entry. I wanted to see what I could do with out that influence. In hindsight if it was all about winning the contest I realize this was a definite tactical error. In terms of learning and growing as a writer, I felt this was the right approach and I still stand by it.

Here for your entertainment and in hopes of soliciting additional feedback via comments, is my entry for the contest:



Ultimate Power
By Daniel Weise

“Where are they?” Joel hissed into her ear.

“Not here.” Mya responded.

“I need them. Now. I can’t control it without them.”

He released his grip on her tunic and she fell to the deck. She knew she had to see this through. Her tribe was counting on her to stop him.

“I know where they are, but you can’t get them. No one can.” She lied. It was a desperate move, but she was sure he hadn’t seen.

“You’re lying.”

The boat shuddered and groaned under the weight of another wave. The intensity of the storm was increasing.

She chose when to make her move very carefully. She had underestimated the fury of the storm without the dampening effects of the crystals, however.

As he drew back to hit her again, the boat was lifted and dropped onto the reef.

The hull shattered and bodies were broken and battered as they were thrown on the rocks and tossed by the waves.

She had done it. He was no longer going to enslave her people. She enjoyed a brief moment of freedom before she crashed down on the rocks and felt her spine snap just before oblivion took her.

The storm whipped waves ground everything into a pulp on the jagged rocks.

When the storm eventually relented, the only remnant of their existence was the 3 faceted crystals glinting among the debris, waiting for the next unsuspecting traveler to find them and become corrupted by their power.


Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Writing

I've been inspired. I am going to start writing more an figured this might be a good place to put things I've written. I would love anyone reading this to comment, good or bad.