Monday, September 26, 2011

Bitesize fiction. "I hate you"

"Are you going to go already?" He kept pressing the keys on his keyboard lazily, killing monsters in a video game. He didn't even glance at me and I was growing impatient.

"You're the one who should go and apologise. You were a right ass back there!" I waved my hands emphatically towards the door.

"I'm sure I did nothing wrong. She really deserved every word." he commented, not bothering to raise his eyes from the computer screen.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Bitesize fiction. Street fights

My hands were burning and trembling and I had the desire to clench them into fists. I felt utterly helpless and I knew it showed in my actions. I was afraid to speak, knowing I'd stutter as soon as I opened my mouth.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" They all laughed and it sounded like a hoard of hyenas. They didn't know any better, I was smarter than all of them put together, but they were simply too many. My heart was racing and wild plans flashed in my mind.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Bitesize fiction. The wild west

"Once upon a time, long looong ago, when I was still young and had just met your grandmother, I used to be a sheriff. Everybody in our little town respected me and knew better than to cause trouble when I was on watch." The grandfather paused to take a long drag from his pipe and to look at his grandchildren with sparkling eyes. The little ones were all ears.

"Really, Pa? And the bad guys? Did you catch any of them?"

"Sent them to jail? And shooting and horse chases and...?" the smallest of the three was getting very excited about the story, flailing his hands around as if shooting imaginary bandits.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Broken Pencil Poetry. Licking the blackboard

Ambition can make us break any barriers that might stand in our way, but it can also make us break ourselves in the process. Obsession is like a vehicle that drives us when we believe we are in control and it literally runs on illusions as fuel.

It also gets rather boring at school, staring at the blackboard all day long.

I believe I've said enough about the next piece. Enjoy!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Bitesize fiction. Rupture II

I crush the cassette in my sweaty palm, hearing the plastic bending, but stopping before cracking it. "So... it's over. You're gone and I never did anything to stop you. If anything, I just pushed you into it, little by little, until you just leaped into the abyss yourself."

My head probably hurts from crying, but the only feeling I can still perceive is the burning hole in my chest and the sickening feeling in my stomach. "You idiot! Why? Why..." I don't even know anymore. The world is trying to spin the other way around and all my words have run dry.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Bitesize fiction. Rupture

"I want to crush you like an ant." A long pause, interrupted by the sound of grit teeth. "Do you know how evil you are, how heartless?" There was no answer. "You drag me after you on an invisible leash, always tugging a little harder when I try to get away. Always ready to prove to me that I can't live without you."

The silence grew heavy, like a dusty old blanket thrown over reality. In the distance, a bird sung a few tentative notes, then went quiet.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Questions greater than ourselves

I went to the bathroom to wash my face after a few long and tedious hours of staying up a bit too late. I look in the mirror, but the image looking back at me is somewhat alien. I am aware of every move I make, wondering if maybe someone else is doing everything and I'm just an observer.

There are a few questions that have troubled me many times before.

Are we identical with our bodies and with our minds? Is there a unity within us or are we a strangely put together puzzle? I often feel that these parts of me are somewhat strange, only brought together by accident and not really fitting. Not fitting to one another and not fitting to my needs.

This might sound odd. But let me continue...

Thursday, September 1, 2011


For those of you who don't know, my favourite literary genre is science fiction. "Literary genre?" some might ask. Despite rather popular opinion, science fiction is not a subgenre, it is a supergenre. Many writers deal with more complex issues than alien invasions and such popular themes.

Lately, my laptop has been broken, so I took out my two favourite books and started re-reading them. They were written by the Strugatski brothers during the period of the Russian communism. The stories are full of satirical portrayals of the situation back then and philosophical issues.

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