Tag: Misc Fiction

The Last Meal

Didymus stoically watched the soldiers run off with the last of his food and drink. The foul-smelling minions of Rome cackled insanely as they swaggered out of the cave. It would be the last time.

The same scene played out numerous times in the last year. Things were getting worse. To resist meant death. He, and other Christ-followers, were starving.

Christ preached peace telling his followers “Thou shall not kill.”

Unlike Christ, a simple man could only take so much. Didymus thought about the soldiers feasting on poisonous food that night.

He prayed for forgiveness after the last soldier left. 


Truth and Consequence

When Harold saw the thing slithering out from beneath his bed he felt both vindicated and horrified.

His parents wouldn’t listen to him the first time he became aware of it’s presence. That’s why he wasn’t on the bed tonight and hiding behind his chest of drawers with a baseball bat.

When the thing slithered on top of his bed and wound itself around his pillow, he rushed out and smashed it into a bloody pulp!

The next morning.

“Have you seen a boa constrictor around?” his mother asked. “Billy next door said his pet boa escaped.”

“No,” he lied. 


Leader of the Pack

The wolf hunkered down and watched two men set their deadly traps in the snow. He was the leader of a local wolf pack. It was his job to kill, or turn, intruders away.

He followed them back to their camp. That made two sets of trappers. Each unaware of the other. He turned back to the first camp he discovered. The trappers saw him. Shot and missed. Gave chase. The wolf led them right by where the other two men set traps.

One of his pursuers screamed as he stepped into a trap!

One less human to deal with.

 

 

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 Waiting Room

Somewhere between the unknown and reality there’s a waiting room for souls. Their expressionless faces reflect the rigors of their lives.

The souls have different expectations about their fate. Beliefs of a lifetime wait to be validated. Hopes of being reacquainted with loved ones go unspoken in the silence. 

When the doors of justice open they go inside. A panel of life forms from throughout the solar system waits to judge them according to universal laws. 

Good and evil is balanced upon scales based upon what they did in life. There’s no lawyers to plead their case – just their deeds.

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.

 

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