* * * * * "Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stageAnd then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." Macbeth, act v, scene v. * * * * * This is a platform that I want to use for a 100,000 word novel. Let me know if it is worth the time and effort. * * *...
Author's note: This story is based on real life events that occurred to me. The names have all been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent. Some dramatization has been added to match the themes of this site, but otherwise I have tried to remain true to the original experience. This story does not have a lot of sex for its length, but consideri...
Max was handcuffed, loaded on a speedboat and whisked away from the island. He huddled into the bottom of the boat and slept. He was uncomfortable but too tired to stay awake. He stirred at the all too familiar sound of the helicopter drawing near. A bright light illuminated the boat as it came to rest in the water. Max looked up to see nothing but the blind...
Water. Everywhere. That's all there was. My lungs were burning from holding my breath, yet I didn't dare break for air. I was looking down, trying to find the bottom of the ocean, but there was none. A bright shining light towards my left called for my attention. I dropped my head and pumped my arms as hard as I could. My legs worked hard as though they ha...
With nothing better to do than watch it rain here in Ann Arbor, I thought I'd kill some time by putting up a tale I posted a while back on another site. Two thousand years ago Quintiles Varus lost three Legions and an uncountable treasure in the forests of Germany. Now, some of that gold has begun to turn up in Paris and the "Organization" is getting paid...
Inola Collins. I opened my eyes in the grey dawn light and looked across at the body of my brother, Waya, sprawled across three-quarters of the bed. I climbed out of our warm haven and stirred the ashes in the big fireplace of the main room of the cabin. I fed little pieces of wood to the glowing embers and soon had a small blaze going. I fed in larger log...
I hate my life. The last thing I wanted to be doing was stalking a tramp like Jinx McClure down Rodeo Drive on a pretty afternoon. Somewhere, somebody must be laughing their ass off at the joke they'd played on me. It's not as though it was hard to follow her. She'd donned huge sunglasses and wrapped her trademark bottle-blond hair in an ugly orange scarf....
This is a prelude to the "Destroy and rebuild series." The making of Dr Knock-Boots Chapter 1: Criminal energy. Jason, or Jay, as everyone called him, was born in Africa, of an African American mum and an African dad. At the age of ten, Jay moved to the US with his mum and sister. They lived in the QB, in NYC. His mum worked as a school teacher and thus...
Psychiatrists tell us that anger and hate are destructive feelings that one needs to purge to be healthy emotionally. Maybe so, but how DO you purge righteous anger and hate? That was the question I needed to answer that years of therapy didn't help me with, but destiny did. My name is Alan Easton. I was a fairly ordinary guy in the large High School I atte...
A cricket chirped somewhere in the room. Even in my sleep fogged brain I knew that it wasn't right. Even half awake I soon realized that it was the phone. "Yeah," I grunted, after I found the phone on the floor by my warm bed. It probably hadn't been moved in days. Hell nobody ever called me anymore. Everyone I knew just emailed me. "Hey Rick, it is me W...