All Beliefs are Welcome Here!
#9 The smell of death. Certainly, not one of my favorites, but it's true: you can get used to anything. Eventually I start to doze. There is nothing to be done. Somewhere, out there, our people are moving, re-organizing, figuring out what to do next. They will know we are missing. Our rescue will be on their to do list. It won't be hard for them to figure out where we are. My mission is to stay alive and silent, until I feel them getting close. Then, we make short-range contact and they get…Continue
Added by libramoon on March 31, 2017 at 2:00pm — No Comments
I am filled with joy for the amazing people we have, are, are becoming. It is important to take time for joy. That is why we are having a celebration. We may not have luxury items to pass around, but we can sing, dance, beat out rhythm on makeshift drums, share funny stories or sentimental ones, enjoy ourselves together, those of us who are here.
Quite a few are out on assignment, picking up the information that can be found, spreading the information that can be given.…Continue
Added by libramoon on March 30, 2017 at 3:52pm — No Comments
When we can, we recruit them. That's who rebels are. They were caught up in the system, until they learned there were alternatives.
"So why do I even need your freedom? I get what my contract entitles me to. I get everything I need. Of course the job is dangerous. I am a soldier."
They always say that. And they mean it.
We have a…
Added by libramoon on March 29, 2017 at 4:36pm — No Comments
" I could really use a sandwich and pots of coffee. I know a great little all night diner not too far from here."
Leadership comes naturally to Reag.
The food and caffeine is bliss. The diner is cozy, almost empty, soft music and soft lighting.
"We should get back, make sure the rest are ok." Calinda worries.
"Our people know what to do, after all that's happened. We have to think, what if the mercs have been watching us. You took a big chance in your…Continue
Added by libramoon on March 28, 2017 at 5:28pm — No Comments
I feel Calinda approaching, finally. I open the door to meet her, but she pushes me, forcefully, back inside.
"I've been trying to avoid Reag. He picked up my trail as I was on my way back with the robocar. It's parked a few blocks from here. I didn't want to get too close until I lost him. Are you ready to go?"
We have mind-barrier techniques, but they take a lot of concentration which can only be kept up for a short while. Now that Reag is aware of Calinda's…Continue
Added by libramoon on March 27, 2017 at 4:34pm — No Comments
"So, what do we do now? Is there a plan?"
"More of a hopeful strategy. We thought if we did a psychic intervention, calmed him enough, we might get him to see reason. But we haven't got enough strength among us to get past his walls. We thought, you've known him longer, deeper, have been through so much with him."
It hit me, what she is asking, demanding really.
"I can't. Look at me. There's not much left."
"That's why we have to restore you…Continue
Added by libramoon on March 26, 2017 at 4:44pm — No Comments
Before I can gather up the necessary will to run off, she walks to where I am standing and takes my hand.
"Take me with you," she says simply, quietly. "We have a lot to catch up on."
We make our way, through the rain and icy streets, to the hole. I light a fire to dry us. As it turns out, she has a flask of very fine brandy in her pocket, which makes the warming up process…
Added by libramoon on March 25, 2017 at 5:22pm — No Comments
There are some streets blissfully deserted in that magic time around dawn. Catching a pattern here? Living in the city, but not of it, or at least among the people. There are millions of souls in this city. I avoid them as much as I can. Souls can be really icky, especially the ones who don’t know they are dead. A lot of the ones who do know they’re dead can be just as bad. Wandering around with no future can be frustrating. Best to keep…
Added by libramoon on March 24, 2017 at 5:31pm — No Comments
Acts of Desolation #1
When the battlefield torn by mines is all the school or playground in which to grow,
how can the children be taught to know, to understand a lexicon of peace?
Bitter hatred permeates mother’s milk and what there is of grain,
permeates the very rain, gathered in barrels since the wells ran red
with poisoned blood, since the holiest of sites became blackened
with pestilence and shame.
Rumors expand on who is to blame; not…
Added by libramoon on March 20, 2017 at 4:30pm — No Comments