simplicity
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Stories (112/0)
Times Symmetry
Glabra Rock walls rise from the ground enclosing the small place I live. Slate colored rock altered with pink areas, as well as glitter specs illuminated by small bits of light that filter in from the outside to the inner cave, make the composition of the walls. Damp and dark inside, warmed only by my fire breath. My breath is used to keep a small fire lit in the corner of the cave. Glabra, Me, was captured as a young dragon by a man named Josiah. Josiah had been adopted by Dungfu. After finding me abandoned on a street one night as a baby, he taught me everything he had learned from some man called Yangshu'an. The only reason he was still called Josiah was because that name was found to be tattooed on him as a baby. Although, most called him by various other nicknames of the Chinese language.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
A Christmas Gift To Always Remember
Its the middle of the night. A glowing light hovers by my bedroom window. Although scared, for some unexplainable reason I open the window. A small powerful drone buzzes in. It flashes a light, spotlighting my face. I squint and try to shield my eyes from the light. As I uncover my eyes, every trace and semblance of the drone is gone except for one package. Wind splashes my curtains around adding to the lore of the situation. Its chilly and my breath is becoming visible as I step closer to the package. Its about 50 degrees outside.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
West World Movie
A socio-politically related idea struck me while watching the old '73 Westworld movie. The idea came from the wall paper, near the beginning, on the plane of all things. I began relating simple pie chart circles, from the wall paper, to life and the theme of groups, hierarchy, and technology.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Journal
A Futures Opus to a Capitalist Dictator
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Noise silenced by the change in gravity. Killing all echoes and reverberations. The flashes of scans, creating a cocoon of stars enclosing the space. A body "in vacuo". The vacuum lowering gas pressures, stealing screams and removing matter. Transporting the sentient matter to a holding cell, a purgatory, while services are rendered. I was screaming, but my screams sounded muffled and distant even to my own ears. Maybe I was screaming in my mind. I felt the wind knocked from my lungs. My leg muscles cramping. Specifically my gastrocnemius spasming out of control. Flashes of light, then the feeling of two pricks in my arm. Itchy and irritated I could not scratch. After the first prick a metallic taste entered my mouth. A flavor that can best be described, I imagine, as sucking on a penny or foil. The second prick and the cramps in my legs disappeared. Blue lights flashed glittery and brilliant with a silvery sheen and then nothingness. Blackness all around. No feeling. Maybe even sleep. I awoke supine in bed. My head neatly placed on my pillow. A glass of water on the night stand, as I always have. The memories more a phantasmagoric past dream than a frightful ordeal.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
Counting Steps
It's a starry night above me as I walk. I'm walking to escape my day. Another grueling day, the kind that makes you realistically understand how unimportant you are to life, in the scheme of things. I walk, I kick all the little rocks I come across. The sky is beautiful, but almost too beautiful, too far away. Taunting me from its superior position that I will never reach or understand. The rocks, the rocks I can reach, I can move from my path. I try to kick the rock perfectly straight then predict how many steps it will take until I can kick it again. After predicting, I count. I've actually become pretty good at it. I can predict it with in 2 steps normally. This realization is depressing. That means these walks have become a regular occurrence, so regular I have become practiced in my rock kicking routine. Sad. Oh well, it still provides me a feeling of success.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
Manuscript of the Universe
"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say"(Vocal). Those saying this are probably humans. Maybe this is even true, but we don't say this. Space is a noisy place, but I guess it's true "no-body" can hear a scream in the vacuum of space. The rest of us can. It can be very disruptive too. Please keep that in mind after reading this. So, if you shall ever go, you wont fall in the trap of thinking no one can hear a scream in the vacuum of space. I assure you we can.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
Coincidental Items
I was sitting at home when I heard such a clatter, upon the roof. It sounded as if something had crashed into it. Then, a dragging sound. Next, the door bell rang. I went to the door to investigate. It was 4 am and I wasn't expecting a package or a guest until later. As I opened the door, I see a colorful LED illuminated drone flying away. Lying at my feet on the door step, a package. It is wrapped in silver paper with a gold bow. I peer over the door threshold skeptical it's a distraction set to ensnare me. Once its presumed safe, I pull the package inside. I neatly unwrap the paper, remove the tape, and open the lid to reveal its contents. Inside is a hodgepodge of items: a rubber band, a trash bag, a dryer sheet, a small jar of cumin, a stamp, and a blue ink pen.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction
Kinetic Stream
A foggy hangover feel existed in her brain. She rubbed her eyes until she could comfortably keep them open. She could see the tops of 5 other heads from where she was seated. All sitting in a seat same as she was. The seats were grey pho leather with dark grey stitching. The seat read Kinetic Stream with lines coming from it, giving it the appearance of speeding forward.
By simplicityabout a year ago in Fiction