Magnus Void
Stories (2/0)
Kabul: The Modern Dunkirk
It's 4:40 pm eastern time as I stare at this dirty screen of my laptop. The last few years haven't been good to me, but at least I'm not in Kabul. Sure as an aspiring, but failed author trying to relaunch his Patricians: Sinful Seven it was great to get a professional review that gave me some hope, but emotions are funny things. Hope the strangest of them all. So I wake up from my sombulant lifestyle, quit smoking, and looked around at the ruination I've caused because of my great depression. The necrosis in my front teeth glare back from a mirror should i have the courage to look, yet one thought keeps echoing, and that's at least I'm not in Kabul.
By Magnus Void3 years ago in The Swamp
Patricians
Patricians: Power Politics Chapter 1: Storm Front Swirling clouds unleashed a howling tempest just beyond the glass of the gunship shrinking into the horizon of the night sky. Blinking lights pulsed in a steady rhythm across the black veil of darkness. Lying on the floor, Julia looked around the interior of the gunship, trying to find some way to escape. Grey metal walls with benches bolted to them, a few hanging handgrips, and thick glass. Bleak prospects. Staring at the door latch, Julia realized opening the door would still leave her thousands of feet in the air, and, without a parachute, that seemed a futile idea. Feeling underneath the seat, Julia found a bar that gave a little when she tugged at it. Finding a lose bolt, she began to loosen it while staring forward, trying to not draw attention. Wind buffeted the gunship, rocking the occupants with its steady fury.
By Magnus Void3 years ago in Futurism