Category: Action

Faulty Memory

The two government men asked Morris to tell his story again. 

“I was trying to start my lawnmower when they suddenly appeared.”

“Who appeared?“

“The space men. Both had big black eyes and funny shaped heads with no mouths! They wanted me go with them.“

“No mouths? How did they ask you anything?”

A blank face. “I don’t remember…”

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You don’t look so good.

Morris walked out of the FBI building. He was confused. Uneasy.

“Do you think the human will talk with anyone else?” the alien asked when he left.

 

 


Who Am I?

I’ve been around since mankind crawled out of caves.

Since humans gathered in loose groups and wandered the land, I’ve followed their progress closely. Listening. Waiting for opportunities. Knowing early technology would aide my efforts pitting one civilization against another.

I’ve been dressed up as a point of pride and honor. I gather rage among people like harvesting grain in fields of fear. Sometimes, I’m the first reaction. Sometimes, I’m the last reaction.

I come cloaked in national piety and greed. A harbinger of death. Men have died because of me throughout eternity.

Who am I?

The answer is war.

The Philosopher

“It’s time,” his executioner said.

He knew he was paying the price for making prominent Athenian’s look like fools. His supposed crime; not believing in the gods of the state.

His wisdom, once sought after throughout the civilized world, did not save him from his fate.  Justice and the pursuit of goodness led him to this last moment on earth.

He became the purifying remedy for Athens’ misfortunes despite his contributions to the state. The sacrificial goat. But he had the last laugh, eternal fame for his wisdom.  

“Drink this,” the executioner offered, handing Socrates the cup of poison hemlock.

The Hit

Luke, a hitman for mafia boss Sam Giancana, looked up at the School Book Depository building knowing Lee Harvey Oswald was inside waiting.

He was told Oswald was going to try and assassinate President J.F. Kennedy as his motorcade slowly drove by in downtown Dallas. They told him Oswald was going to be the false sponsor for the murder.

Luke checked under his trench coat, touching the Mannlicher-Carcano rifle briefly. Identical to the one Oswald had. No one noticed him blend into the tree line of the grassy knoll.

He waited until the time was right, took aim and fired!

 


The Druid

He swiftly ran through the dense forest ahead of his Roman enemies. As a Druid priest he knew this grove well, avoiding the pitfalls and traps his people set for the oppressors.

Amergin was the last of the Druid priests. The rest were massacred. He refused to let that stop him from rallying his people against the Roman’s and their gods.

As his pursuers drew near he pressed his body against a tree and prayed for invisibility. They ran by him without a glance. At that moment Amergin knew that he would be able to keep the old religion alive.

   

Moon Landing

Millions of Americans breathlessly watched the Apollo 11 land on the moon with two American astronauts aboard. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin. Black and white TV’s nationwide watched the fuzzy images of the two men hopping around on the moon’s crust.

America puffed out it’s chest. 

Two national heroes were born. America was winning the space race. A sense of national pride swelled from the farms to the cities throughout the country. Science triumphed. The future was here.

“One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” Armstrong gushed.

Somewhere in a secret studio: “That’s a wrap!” the director said.

 

Faker

Zack pulled out the canvas bag of specially selected scat and poured it out. He picked up the two wooden sticks with extra large feet and carefully walked them away from the scat  while disguising his footprints with a tree branch.

He hid in a tree so he could see the reaction of the Bigfoot hunters that he knew where nearby. Years playing the game watching men make idiots of themselves looking for a mythical monster. It was good for local businesses, like his.

The hunters came into view the same moment a powerful hairy arm choked Zack to death!

War of the Worlds

Raymond turned away from the radio in time to see his Mother’s worried eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “This is just nostalgia radio with Orson Wells narrating War of the Worlds.”

Suddenly static. Sounds of people panicking. A man’s voice “This is not a drill” Fading. Static.

“It’s not for real, Mom. It’s from a 1938 broadcast.”

Static stops. A man’s voice. “The president was able to flee in Air Force One when…”

“Son! When Franklin Roosevelt was in office in 1938 there was no Air Force One!“

They both turned to the window in time to see the mushroom cloud.

The Tracker

Clem got off his worn-out horse. The poor creature was near death after three days of running from his tracker who he suspected was a bounty hunter. 

His crime, killing a man in self defense. No trial.

Took his saddle and warbag off his horse, turning him loose. In the horizon he saw a cloud of dust. A rider. Maybe an hour away. The blazing sun was merciless. He was out of water. Only one bullet left in his revolver. 

This was his last stand. Finally, the rider drew near.

“Is that you Clem?” his brother cried out in surprise.

 

Innocence

They had him surrounded.

Tito refused to come out when they called his name. If he let his hostage go he worried they’d kill him. He prodded the janitor in the back with the tip of his knife as he considered his predicament. 

The crowd thought he’d killed the coach’s daughter. It was a matter of time before they rushed the gym and overpowered him. Desperate, he let the janitor go with a message that he was innocent of any crime.

The crowd outside rushed in with weapons!

“Stop!” The coach’s daughter suddenly shouted from the top of the bleachers.

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