Grim Avatar

Original

I looked over the world with a heavy heart.

I didn’t really, of course. Out of the eyes of every insect, every bird and squirrel, and even every human, I saw nearly everything. Secrets weren’t safe from me unless they were safe from life itself. Or . . . unlife.

I looked out from the eyes of the zombies as well. Oceans of mindless undead. Something had to be done. It would break millennia of nonintervention, but the human race was at risk. And as unpleasant as that species could be, I had plans for them.

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A Soldier’s Mercy

The love of your life has just died in your arms.

Original

I strode across the battlefield, picking my way over the bodies to where she lay. The sun beat down on my face, beads of sweat mixing with blood, red droplets catching in my lashes. At least it wasn’t mine.

I knelt at her side, brushing her hair back. “Anya.” Her breath was fast and shallow, her eyes unfocused.

“Anya. Does it hurt?” She shifted and whimpered. Someone else shifted too, and I put my sword into his chest, letting it stay there for the moment.

“It hurts less,” she said. “But it’s so cold. Chris . . . I think this is it.”

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Believe in Me

A bank robber takes off his ski mask and hails a cab, stowing his pistol in his back pocket. Suddenly, lights begin to flash around him. “Welcome to the Cash Cab!…”

Original

I stepped out of the lights and music of the Cash Cab, four hundred dollars richer. The frigid rain spat down at me, and the wind tried to throw my hair into my face.  Shame and self-loathing were furrowing my brow and tying a knot in my stomach.  I felt like I was going to be physically sick.  I had never been so ashamed of myself.

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Hello there.

Where am I, and who are you?

I write some stuff.  I like to frequent /r/WritingPrompts on Reddit.  It’s a very civil place, based around a simple concept.  Post a setting, premise, a picture, anything that might inspire a story.  Any reply to these posts must be a poem or story.

One example from the top 10 posts from that site is this: The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The “Quit Smoking” ads get personal.

I’m opening and maintaining this blog to archive the stories I post there.  You don’t have to share links, though I’d be gratified if you would.  You don’t have to give feedback, though again, I’d be gratified if you would.  I may not always like hearing constructive criticism, but I always process it, and sometimes, even if it takes a day or two, I change my mind, too.

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