King Haefen of Stonetide kept with him a council of wise men, learned sages whom he could rely on for advice in critical manners. In exchange for their services in court and castle, the king gave them ample abodes ripe with rich foods, wines, and indentured servitude. Among them was Councilman Narghast, who had served the king well throughout the many years of his life. He had enjoyed the fine fruits of royalty, and had sampled fares and females from across the globe.
I have heard some speak of retribution, of the gods and their fiery wrath cast down upon the fates of overbearing men. These lot are forsaken and spineless to be sure, hiding behind empty threats of their tiny imaginative deities and idols, casting down empty curses upon his brother for their sins. Their words are to be discarded like the cold iron shackles that once bound me to this land.
I've always wanted to turn this into a longer story. Maybe I will someday.
Marthen ran through the darkness of the nighttime forest, the wind cold on his naked skin, the earth soft beneath his feet. A tree branch occasionally slapped his face stingingly, although he hardly noticed it. His bare feet hurt from stepping on sharp sticks and tripping over roots, and he felt a sharp, burning pain as he stepped on a large piece of broken glass. From somewhere above, a full moon lit his way, filtered through many branches.
My first ever Oort-Cloud post and my first short story. Your feedback would be GREATLY appreciated!
Small green birds sat on the branch outside my window. They are completely still. The wind gently ruffles their feathers as they sit and stare. If I were a more paranoid man, I would say they are staring at me. But I'm not and they weren't. They were staring at the cat sitting underneath the tree licking his testicles.
***WRITING NOW, EDITING LATER***LAST EDIT 2/22/08***
Arrival of the Seekers: chapter 2
Olmashoon's heart pounded in his chest as he brought himself to defecation. Urination had been easy for him as his body moved slowly, imperceptibly amongst the dead.
He’d come upon a bed of oysters clinging to a shelf of black lava rock about twenty feet down, and now he hung in space a moment, trying to commit their location to memory. Distorted light brushed back and forth over the sea floor, picking out the roughness in shells, running gentle fingers along the arms of bright anemones. The water was cold for this late in summer, and the current was strong and came in chilly pulses which carried with them the feeling of great depth. Stones clacked together, moving forward and back. His lungs tickled; he kicked back upwards.
Aislinn awoke with a start, the many-voiced whisperings and haunting music of her dreams fading away into the morning’s gray reality. She sat up from her leafy bed of soft ferns with some alarm, for she knew that she had stayed out too late. The dawn had come, and she would be missed. Passing unsteady fingers through her wild mane of tangled auburn hair, Aislinn looked about and found the battered leather bag that she always carried with her. Clutching it to her breast, she quickly stood and looked around nervously.
I had just knocked my last smoke off topside, right into the drink, when I saw the ship closing in. Even from a distance, I could see she was a honey. A fifty-footer, twenty across the beam. Twin engines for certain—I bet a thousand horse each. She had her foils out, that sleek hull teasing the waves with the barest kiss. She must have cost a fortune. Not that Jorgi would have paid it. He probably just plugged the owner and left him for shark bait. All so he could send that sweet heartbreaker after me. I guess I should have been flattered.
Source:Vintage Books USA, p.176 (1992)
Abstract:Audacious story of a life - a world - lived in reverse. Taking a cue from a paragraph in Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, Martin Amis approaches the life of an Auschwitz doctor in reverse. This slim and excellent book is a perfect introduction to a SF reader to the talent of Martin Amis.
Here's a short story I wrote a few years ago, let me know what you think. :)
A Burdened Life