Friday, 25 February 2011

No longer

“We no longer hunt in the forests... For the forests are no longer here.

We no longer fish in the seas... For the seas are no longer here.

We no longer gaze at the clouds... For the clouds are no longer here.

We no longer look to the future... For we no longer have one.”

The words were carved deep into the cliff face, an epitaph to a species no longer here.

The scorching breeze seemed to sigh with sadness as it swirled across the barren landscape, sadness for the loss of the beautiful world it once knew.

The three beings stared up at the strange symbols, uncomprehending, uncaring.

The taller of three turned and took a long, sweeping look at the cracked, baked ground, and the swirling sand devils.

It took a slow, deep, satisfying breath of the carbon monoxide rich atmosphere.

“The planet is perfect for habitation, start shipping the colonists.”

©2011 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday, 18 February 2011

Plagiarism ?

“Hey, one of my stories has been picked up by a book company, they're gonna publish it, and they've sent me a cheque for two thousand smackarooneys, how does it feel to have a published author for a brother then?”

“Hey bro, that's great, which story is it?”

I flicked the keys and brought the story up onto the screen.

“This one,” I said, swivelling the laptop around so he could read it, “It's called 'Bound homeward'.”

I watched in nervous anticipation as he began to read the fruits of my imagination, in my mind I could already hear the gushing praise that was soon to come.

He turned towards me, a vicious snarl spreading a cross his face....

“YOUR STORY?... This ain't YOUR story, this is MY story, you stole it from my computer didn't you?”

“No I didn't, your stories are full of crap, who the hell would publish any of YOUR drivel?”

He pressed a few keys, then turned his own laptop so I could view the screen.

“Here, read this then you thieving asshole.”

I skim-read through several pages...

“Well, there ARE certain similarities......”

“Similarities? Similarities?... The only similarity is the title, mine's called 'Homeward bound' apart from THAT little similarity the story is a word for word replica, right down to the last capital letter, comma, and full stop. I'm gonna split you in two, you... you... PLAGIARIST you!”

“Look, this isn't helping either one of us, tell you what, I'll split the money with you eh? A grand apiece, eh? How does that sound?”

“I should get BOTH grands... It's MY story.”

“It is NOT your story, I wrote it MYSELF.....”

“Oh yeah? And you expect me to believe that? You really expect me to believe that we both wrote exactly the same story as each other?”

“Well, given what we are, is it really so hard for you to believe that it could happen? Anyway, this is getting us nowhere, do you want half of the money or not?”

He dithered for a few moments, then his face softened as he made his decision.

“Okay, we usually end up sharing everything anyway, sorry I got mad at you.”

“And I'm sorry that you think I stole your story. Pals again?”

“Pals again.”

He went into the kitchen and returned carrying two bottles of beer, handing one to me as he sat back down.

“A toast... Here's to an endless list of best-sellers, and the rewards they will bring bro.” We both said in unison, clinking the bottles together.

My identical twin and I opened our beers, took a long, slow slug, sighed, then leaned back into our chairs, all in perfect synchronisation.

I pondered the fact at how impossibly identical we were in every possible way.

©2011 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday, 11 February 2011

Kindred spirits

She had come for me, I knew she would. I held her to me, I held her as tight as I could, crushing my cheek to hers, our tears mingling, I would never let her go again, the love we shared was too deep to be denied, the barrier did not exist that could keep us apart forever.

She was cold.... so cold, the heat flowed from my body to hers, sharing what warmth we possessed between us, balancing the difference, whatever we had, we would share.

I couldn't stop crying, the guilt, the pain, the memories, all washed over me like surf over shingle.

The last time we spoke was a year ago, almost to the minute.

“Please John, we'll get a cab, we can come back for the car tomorrow.”

“S'okay darling, s'only two miles, we'll be fine, I've only had a few glasses of wine, gerrin' the car honey, y'know I would rather cut my own legs off than let you come to any harm.”

I watched it all happen again, The bend, the skid, the tree.

Eventually the flickering lights, and the voices....

“She's gone.... he's pretty smashed up, but he'll most likely make it.”

Countless times over the last twelve months I had thought about taking my own life, I ached to be with her, my true love, my soul mate, my kindred spirit, but I waited for her, as I knew I must.

And now she was here...

The tears flowed even more freely.

“Oh.... oh honey, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry darling......”

“Shhh John, it's okay darling, we're together again now.”

I gripped her even more tightly...

We kissed tenderly as we began to drift upwards towards the shimmering light....

It felt good to lose the wheelchair.

©2011 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday, 4 February 2011

High rollers

Well, I can tell you, you win some, you lose some.

Some lose more than others.

I did okay, I had more money than I needed, and I wasn't limping yet, unlike most of the guys in this game.

At a knuckle and ten grand per roll, the night would bring consequences.

I looked at him long and hard....

“Did you ever roll against McJaidy?”

“Yeah, I lost a finger and two toes in that game... less than McJaidy did though.”

I looked at his hands, a thumb and a pinky on the right, the index and middle on the left.

I kept my empty hand below the table, and pushed my money forwards with my full right.

“Yeah, you look like a lucky guy, so... roll the dice, huh?”

©2011 Stephen. J. Green.