Tag: story

The Remains {ANEWSIN 15 — JASON GARDEN}

The preceding story was written a few months ago with no plans for release. I have a different story that I am working on, and I really want to release something, so I hope this works!

—

The buildings were all dilapidated. The windows were broken, and the walls of the buildings were plush with the road. Frames stood proud where doors once shielded the inside from the unknown, and stood empty adorned with a hue of lapis lazuli blue.

The sky was red, like fire, but the air was cold. The wind was terrible, and cut through any attempts to guard against them was ill conceived and fruitless. Only the statues of old dared to weather out the impending storms of photons being released by an unrelenting sun.

There were no living things here.

My journey was to find you. Other things in my life may have been more pressing: more important. This need for your embrace was too overwhelming. It drove me to ignore my feelings of discomfort and allowed me to carry through this mission that, at the time, I believed to be of great importance.

Daunted by the silence, I picked up a stone. My intention was to throw it, but at that moment I was enamoured by its symmetry. It lay perfectly in my hand, ignorant of its intended fate. Who knew the reason that it was where I found it. Its story will be forever hidden from me, but I knew that this is how life had to be.

Life can be just as mysterious as the history of that rock. We jump through hoops, do things we know are fruitless and dumb, yet we end up where we have to regardless of what brought us to that point. No matter what forces we explore, and what life choices we make, events out of our control will stifle any attempts to lead a perfectly happy life. A life that we deem perfect in every way. This stone reminded me all of that. This stone, in that moment, reminded me just how chaotic everything was.

Against my better judgment, I threw the stone. I had to: I was starting to get too far into thoughts of existence. I was beginning to be consumed with expressions of impossibilities far too great to fathom. I was starting to loose any ability to maintain composure in the face of the world that I found myself engaged in. I started to notice the debris that build up at the sides of paths, and the concrete golems that line the path I was standing on.

I fall to my knees, face pointed towards the red sky. Tears flowed from my eyes as I relive all of the hate, the torment, that I had confronted over the last decade.

I had hurt so many people; either out of necessity, or greed. Never malicious, but always knowing what the outcome would be.

I had failed so many times. Some of the trials were failed out of flawed execution. Some of the attempts failed due to self-sabotage. All of them: premature.

I rose to my feet. I had to do this; I had to finish this journey. Even if it meant the end of everything, I had to find you. You deserved that, and I was the one who had to give you the reprise. You deserved the reprise, if not the world.

Is it possible that I hold you in too high regard? Have I blinded myself to your flaws and created an impossible manifestation in my mind of who you are? If that is indeed the case, will I flee as soon as you fail to live up to the incredible depiction that I have in my mind? Or, will I just blame you implicitly for all of the ways that you will fail me?

Is it possible that I am overthinking all of this?

I realize that I have stood in place now for almost five minutes. I chuckle to myself as I start to move forward. I must have looked completely broken to an outside observer. Glassy eyes, pursed lips, contemplating everything and nothing at the same time.

As I take my stride into the corrupted village, I find my mind wandering to places to distract myself from the wreckage around me.

I fixate on the eventuality and inevitably to death. A nice simple topic to dwell on. I call it that with no intent of sarcasm. People tend to dwell on the topic of what happens after. They create the grand fixations with ideas of eternal life, reincarnation, and a utopia where the good can live out a reality of there choosing. I choose to focus on the only provable direction: when we die, we die.

It is not that I have issue with every other decision to entertain the ideas that there is a greater purpose. I am envious, in fact. Call me someone with no faith or imagination, but I cannot begin to structure my life with the assumption that there may be a payoff in the end.

From everything I can see, this is it.

And, to that end, I choose to live my life as well as I can. I choose to be happier now than live as if everything I do will benefit me later. If I am miserable now, what is to matter if I live a better life later? What is even the point in self-improvement if I am not to enjoy whatever I achieve?

The streets are still quiet. Never have I dwelt on the idea that I could miss the sounds of birds, or even wind. Until you find yourself in isolation, those things are a kind of white-noise: an assumption that they will always be there. Some might even find them to be intrusive.

When they are absent, you truly notice how bleak reality can be. Paranoia sets in as every step one takes creates echos that seem to increase in volume. I keep looking over my shoulder just to make sure that I am just as alone as I thought I was just a moment ago.

This journey would be so much better if I was not alone. It has been days since I last spoke, let alone spoke to another living being. Every now and then, I will talk to a tree or a rock. I do this to make sure that I can actually still speak. It doubles as a reminder that the world still knows that I am here, as well. 

Epic {ANEWSIN VOL.10 — Jason Garden}

//Edited by Luka Riot

Michael was having a normal day.

He had to work at his retail job for eight hours: so his break was dealing with his girlfriend at the house, texting him constantly about how useless he was. To top off his fantastic day, his band was without a concert for the next few weeks.

…it sounds, when written down, worse than he believed it to be…

He enjoyed his life. This is where he was happy, and he felt accomplished to have two albums out in his early twenties. The slacker life suited him just fine.

His store was on the main road in the city he resided in. He worked full-time in a music store. He got to pretend that people know more about music than him, meanwhile he was secretly judging them and their choices. It was separate from the local mall, but its proximity makes it easy to run up to the ‘building full of shit-no-one-needs’ for a bad meal of fast food. He made this run often. It was cheap, and only tasted a bit of failure and hate. If he made good time, he could get the fresh fries!

Today was different.

He peered into a store where his friend worked to see if he could bother them. He was confronted by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her eyes cut through the miasma of bodies and clothing. He was stunned into shock-induced stillness.

“Hey Mike, good to see you!” The vixen raised a hand to wave coyly, as if she knew who he was, but was unsure if she was right. Knowing his name was the easy part for most. He did not know why.

Michael was tripped up, but was still able to reply with a friendly wave. His eyes darted around the strangely shaped store to see if his friend was there for a social bumper.

“Oi! Mike! How ya doin’ ya ol’ so and so!” clamoured Jake. Mike felt better.

“Jake! What’s up?” He pretended that he missed the siren’s call and headed right for Jake.

“Dude, who the fuck is that and how do we know each other?” Michael keeps his voice as low as he could. “Do we know each other?” His tone was serious, despite the smile he kept on his face to erase suspicion.

“You fool. That’s Mary! You guys hung out at that ska show the other day.” Jake picked up on Michael’s body language and kept smiling as well. His tone, however, conveyed a guise of disbelief and disgust.

Mary was making sure a pile of shirts were in order.

“Dude. She’s fucking beautiful. How the fuck do I not remember her? Was I drunk?” Michael asked, dropping the bravado charade and allowing the frown he was concealing to come through.

Jake looked angry, but kept his calm. “No. You are just an idiot.” He then walked away. “Hey! Mary! Go say hi to Mike!”

Mary gestured that she will when she was done cleaning the stack of shirts she was fiddling with. Michael looked for anything sharp or heavy to throw at Jake. He had hoped to get a little background. He was truly disturbed that he had forgotten someone so beautiful. He was also upset with himself that he was betrothed to another.

It’s not cheating if there is no physical contact. If it’s nothing but a fantasy with a girl you will probably never see again. Nah. She’s probably super stupid or something. Why else would I forget a face like that?

Mary launched into conversation quickly. She was working, after all: customer service made you become social. “How are you, Mike? It’s good to see ya again!”

Michael hated that he did not remember her. She had the biggest blue eyes, and a small scar under her right eye that just added to the mystery of her aura. Her voice was high and small to match her stature. Her hair was long and blonde. Her perfume was strong but not overwhelming.

You’re dating someone, you fool! Just say hello and walk away. Do NOT get her number. Do NOT compliment her. And, for Christ sake, do NOT invite her out for coffee.

Mary carried on the conversation, ignoring the fact that Michael had not said two words. She’s fucking good at her job! Mike thought to himself

“I’m done at 4. Want to go to that cafe that just opened downtown? It’s a bit far from my house, but that coffee chain that’s closer to mine has no idea how to brew coffee.” Mary asked while starting on another stack of shirts.

“YES!” Michael blurted out before even thinking about the ramifications of what was going on. “I have wanted to go to that place for the last little bit, finally I have an excuse!”

(SHOEHORN IN HONESTY, MIKE)

“My girlfriend keeps saying that we’ll go, but we never do. She also says that my band doesn’t suck, but every time we have a show, she has to work. Mysterious, right? Like, if you don’t like it, that’s fine. You need to stab someone before fixing the issue. If you never stab in the first place, it’s just hiding your end. They know. Of course, I’m ‘they’ in this poorly conceived metaphor.”

The words spilled unceremoniously out of Mike’s mouth before he could think about them. He almost wanted to hand Mary a raft to keep afloat of all the ridiculous things he said.

…a good portion of that didn’t even make sense… Mike thought to himself before Mary could reply. He wanted to hide.

“Wow. Bit of a ramble there. You okay?” Mary still had a smile on her face, but it was more the ‘customer service grin’ as opposed to a human emotion at this point.

Michael sighed. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just had a rough couple of days.”

Mary’s posture softened. “Well, let’s do coffee and you can tell me all about it.”

On that note, a customer walked up and whisked Mary away before Michael could reject the offer.

“I’ll be right there, sir! Mike, we’ll talk soon.”

She turns to look at Michael one last time before walking away. “If it means anything, I really like your band. Different for around here. It’s a nice change of pace.” Then, she vanished behind a stack of merchandise.

Fuck you. Thinks Michael. Of course, the world hands me perfection while I have too many demons to deal with as is.

“So Mike, do you work today?” Jake asks, seeming to appear from the racks of clothing. He startled Michael, who had long since assumed that Jake was off doing his job.

“Yeah. I go back in about thirty minutes or so. Just taking a break from my customers to see yours.” Michael tries his best not to look rattled by the sudden human in his vicinity. “Do you care to join me for a smoke outside?”

“HAH!” Jake replies, his volume far too inappropriate for the surroundings. “Dude: last thing I need is another session of you pining over some girl that you have met at the wrong time and everything is out to get you blah blah blah..”

“I can’t decide whether or not I feel hurt by said implication.” Michael bowed his head in despair. Half as a joke, half in earnest. Was he that predictable?

“Thinking about how predictable you are, aren’t you?” Jake pokes the bear. “I also bet that you are going to get a coffee, have a smoke, then head back into work.”

Michael stands still for a moment, face emotionless.

“Jake:” Michael pulls out a cigarette and starts heading for the entrance of the store. “Fuck yourself.”

He pats Jake on the back as he heads past him. He was too focused on the fact that he accidentally got a coffee… not date… later that week. The concept was almost too much to handle, and Michael felt guilty about the whole idea.

You know; Michael thinks to himself. If I actually felt like this was a bad move, I would just leave my girlfriend. He puts the cigarette in his mouth to hold it until he got out of the building.

If I was a good person, I would probably realize that I am shooting myself in the foot. I would probably realize that this is a bad move.

—

Something different for everyone. Much less depressing and dystopian. This story is dedicated to my best friend, Shannon. Check out my other works. PLEASE consider supporting me on Patreon.

The Above {ANEWSIN VOL. 8 — Jason Garden}

//Edited by Luka Riot

“Why must we do this?”

A skinny girl stands smoking a cigarette in the midst of a collection of carnage. Machines pick through the gore, collecting as many valuables as they could.

A man steps forward. “You know that this is how we make our living. We need any sort of identification to prove we killed the right group. Now, hurry your smoke, Skylar. We gotta go.”

“Fuck you, Steve.” Skylar proclaims under her breath.

Several corpses litter the street around her. The smell of decay fills the air. Skylar takes one more deep drag of her cigarette and lets the smoke slowly leave her mouth. The cloud just hovered around her lips as there was no wind to replace the air.

The smell was putrid: flesh and steel flood the ground where the two stand, and it is not shielded by the elements. The area is bathed in the sun, and the temperature is sitting at a balmy 40 Celsius. Carnage as far as the eye could see.

Their job was simple. They just had to collect any valuables they could find. May that be rare metals, jewelry, or small electronics. Cellphones are the best find, as they contain a trace of gold. It wasn’t much, but it could be just enough to make the week affordable.

“I need a fuckin’ shower.” Skylar proclaims as she flicks the smouldering end of her cigarette off to the side, narrowly avoiding a machine picking over remnants of a cadaver. “Hopefully, the smell of the soap will clean the stench from my mind.”

Steve laughs. “How poetic of you! Soap. D’ya think we can afford soap? I dunno ‘bout you, but I can barely afford the water for a shower.”

Just then, an explosion behind a wall shakes the ground.

“Do you think they know we’re here? That sounded a bit too chaotic to just be construction.” Skylar asks, her expression showing mild fear.

This was the life they half chose to lead. The masses were forced underground decades ago, and a handful of people were chosen to be scavengers, looking through rubble. The corporations still feud over bits of what remains on the mainland, trying to get their hands on materials to manufacture things to sell to people so they can remain dependent on the corporations, so the corporations can exploit the masses and rape the lands they once inhabited. 

“The bombs sound close. Too close. We need to bail.” Steve is now right behind Skylar as he calmly exclaims this.

Skylar lets out a slight chuckle as her face softens. “You read my mind.” She pulls out a pad from her bra and pushes a button on the face of the device.

A small flying ship comes to their location. It has only two seats, and the full span of the wings is only five meters. The two get on and it leaps into the air. It doesn’t generate much air, yet moves with great power and speed. Skylar gets behind the steering wheel and Steve, in the passenger seat, keeps his eyes out towards the horizon.

“Did you collect anything?” Steve asks his comrade. “Your pack looks rather empty.”

“Sight can be an illusion. Size means little in this game, you know that.” Skylar takes her right arm and tosses a small satchel towards Steve. Inside is two rings and a cell phone. “We’re set for a bit, anyway. What did you find?”

“Some small stuff, but nothing this classy!” Steve’s tone is quite jovial. “We’re set for almost a month, even if we get half market value for this stuff!”

Steve puts the salvage into a bucket under the seat he is in. It clangs against a few other things that the two got from a previous venture. By Steve’s observation, they have the bucket half full.

The two of them soar through the air for a bit, keeping their elevation roughly a kilometer above the ground. They only remain at that height for a couple of minutes before Skylar suddenly drops altitude.

“I fucking hate this part.”

They enter a small cave, barely enough for their vessel to get through. It is far from well maintained. They ride the small entrance tunnel for at least an hour.

“Are the walls closing in around me, or am I just loosing it?” Skylar asks.

“You know you’re fine. You’ve done this a million times” Steve replies, sounding exhausted.

—

Patreon helps me pay bills, feed Luka’s dog and keep everything running.

Sophie {ANEWSIN VOL.3 — JASON GARDEN}

“It just happened.”

Sophie’s brown eyes were dry but she still looked like she could cry at any moment.

“I was twenty three. I didn’t want to have a child, but I wasn’t against the whole concept.” She took a long drink from the glass of water in front of her.

“My boyfriend and I lived in a decent studio apartment. Yeah: it was a rental. It was our place, though. We spent days- maybe even weeks- making space for the new arrival. We couldn’t afford it- we knew that- but we were going to try. We were excited to try. We were together. We were happy. I thought we were happy…”

Sophie trailed off. Her eyes started to drift around the corners of the rather empty room. It just contained the table she was sitting at, the detective, a mirror, and a door. She did not know what she was doing there or why they wanted to know what drove her to the breaking point.

Her breaking point.

That time when everyone died around her.

She just knew that she had much to say.

“The child contracted something. It was coughing all the time and seemed distant.”

It was at this point that Sophie started to look visibly upset.

“Again: I didn’t want- that thing- my child to grow up around there. My boyfriend and I found that apartment decent, but it was far from suitable for a child. It was up a story, above a store. Fuck sakes: the shop below was a Goddamned head-shop!” Sophie was becoming more frantic as she continued the story. Her eyes were no longer dry, but she also did not look as if she was going to cry. She was upset. Her fists had balled so tightly that her nails had started digging into her palms.

“I cried for a very long time. I was destroyed for days. The child died. My boyfriend left me for a whore. My mother died. It probably was not in that order but I will be damned if I can remember the order of things, let alone the time between events.” She released her fingers from her hands long enough to take a drink of water to sooth her throat. If she actually yelled instead of trying to keep herself reserved, her voice would not have given out quickly.

“So yeah: the child died only a few days after coming home. The doctors didn’t say shit when I spoke up. I cried. Not because of the death. I wasn’t too attached yet. I know they say that carrying a child for nine months bonds the unborn to the mother, or something like that. I was numb. I didn’t know who that thing was. I barely even realized that it was mine, it died so fast. So, no: the death didn’t fuck me up too much.” A smirk appeared on Sophies face for the first time since she entered the room. “I cried because that’s what everyone wanted. I cried because I was supposed to.”

The detective, who found himself entranced by Sophie’s story, finally spoke up.

“…do you feel like that lead to you killing four people with that knife, then?”

Sophie laughed harder than was appropriate for the situation.

“Fuck no!”

“Then why would you tell me about that?” The detective was astounded by how frank her response was. “We have footage of you stabbing four patrons of a bar who were out for a smoke. They were all in their late 30’s, of average health and status, so we cannot figure out the motive. We have looked at this from every angle!”

The detective wiped a beed of sweat from his brow. This interrogation was taking place in the hottest room in the precinct, and he was started to feel his everything give up and give in.

“Just tell me what I need so we can leave this forsaken place and you can go back to your cell.” The detective was done with this emotional rollercoaster and he was too warm to sit here much longer.

Sophie smiled keeping her lips sealed to hide her perfect teeth. “There was no motivation to do it. Well, I guess there was: I wanted to do it. I wanted to know what taking a life felt like instead of having life taken from me.” She followed up her statement with a hearty laugh. “Can I smoke in here? I need a cigarette.”

The detective felt played. He had a very hard time believing that someone just wanted to know what it felt like to kill someone.

“Go nuts.” the detective said. He gives her one of his last cigarettes from his pack. She put it in her mouth, and the detective lights a match and puts the flame next to the tobacco and lights it for her.

Sophie takes a deep drag and sighs. “Reliving all of that is better than sex. I haven’t talked about that kid dying since it happened five years ago. Don’t really need to.”

The detective cannot decide what he finds more disturbing: the complete disregard for guilt over killing four people, or the detachment from her own child.

“I noticed that you never specify gender. Why is that?” the detective just craved answers. He had a small family back home: a husband, and a beautiful boy. He could not fathom why she refused to recognize anything about the child.

“Why?” Sophie asks, sounding very curious. “The baby wasn’t part of my life for long enough to even care.”

Astonished, the detective retreated back into the comfort of things he could understand. “Fine. Why the stabbing, though? They were from out of town, so it is unlikely personal. Why, then? We can’t figure it out. I cannot figure it out!”

“They asked me to.” Replied Sophie, her tone was hollow and cold. There was not even a hint of self-assurance in her voice. She was convinced they asked.

Just then, the door burst open, disrupting the peace and quiet.

“Okay, detective. I’m Sophie’s lawyer, Jenny Silvana. She doesn’t have to answer more of your questions, and we ask for a moment to get everything squared away.”

The detective looked defeated. “Fine. I’ll be just down the hall, please let me know when I can re-enter.”

He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair as he got up. He stormed out, mildly frustrated. He was sure that he could have gotten the full story eventually, but the law is the law. The detective left the room and their eyes followed him to the door as he left.

In the hall, he shut the interrogation room door and knocked on another wood door right next to it. A large man swung it open, letting it hit the wall. He was clearly frustrated.

“Fred!” The detective’s voice was stern. “I know you’re frustrated, but you know that we can’t do anything. Calm down!”

“I know. Just… FUCK! It felt so close to getting a full confession!” Fred screamed, his face red and sweat pouring off his brow. “I just wanted to sleep tonight.”

“I know. Again, you know we can’t do anything in those situations. We might even get a decent deal at the end of everything. We can’t risk ruining the case, though.” The detective tried to sooth the large man with his tone. He remained calm and kept his volume low to direct the mood to a calmer place.

—

This is all uncharted ground for me, so I hope that I did okay. Please support me on Patreon.

I am proud to thank the few people who have made it financially viable for me to do this for three months in a row.

If you wish to support this piece, but do not wish to fight with Patreon, here is the PayPal link where you can offer what you want.

Books I read? REHASH [Now with links!]

I AM BRINGING THIS BACK
NOW BETTER THAN EVER!

The second of anewsinPublishing got released yesterday, so I have been too busy getting the advertising ready for that. I hope you all liked it! Hannah is a good friend of mine, and it feels like she has been one for many years. I truly loved the piece she submitted! The next one (which is to be released on the first of October) is one that I am very nervous to share with all of you. I have NEVER written like this before.

At the bottom of each blerb is a photo of a version of the book, that is actually a link to the Amazon listing for that book. Give it a tickle and consider buying it. It helps me a lot.

1984 by George Orwell
I am going to start this list off with a classic that people have either read, or know out of its impression on the world, as a whole. The description of this horrible world that is too close to the one we live in now is what attracted me to this book. It describes things in our modern world almost too well considering that it was written over 50 years ago. Details are visceral and almost disgusting, but the book always maintains a glimmer of innocence. Please note that I said innocence and not hope. There is little to no hope in the world that is constructed by George Orwell. I love this book.

jPod by Douglas Coupland
Hilarious in the most bizarre way. The book follows a collection of programers at a video game studio based in Vancouver, Canada. With that said, the location does not actually matter all that much, the tale focuses more on the strange, yet relatable, experiences of one member of the tea, n particular.Pot, lesbians, and normality is the bread and butter of this tale, and if that does not even skim the surface of what is in this strange tale.

Rant by Chuck Palahniuk
My favourite book, by far. I cannot go too far into specifics without giving away parts of the plot, because it is hard to pinpoint what exactly is a spoiler. Maybe it is because I know the ending I am saying that, but it is one of those tales that you can figure everything out in the first 100 pages, if you are really good. Disgusting, beautiful, demented, hilarious: this book has everything. I want to recommend it to people who enjoyed Fight Club, but it belongs in Sci-Fi just as much as any other genre.

Wheel of Time by Brandon Sanderson
Fantasty. Next!

Okay, I will put a little effort into this. Think Lord of the Rings without being so impenetrable. It is a series, but it is good enough to keep reading past the first book, yet light enough to make it feel like you are not wasting braincells on trivial details and non-sense. No offence to LOTR fans, I love those book. I am most saying that if you like LOTR, you should have already read these books. If you did NOT like LOTR, I get it: reading those can feel like a never ending slog to figure everything out. Especially when you finish the main trilogy, find out and read the Hobbit, the realize the Silmarillion exists, then the extended universe created by the games and movies…

I FORGOT ONE IN THE INITIAL LIST!

Serial Killers Club by Jeff Povey

Probably the darkest, yet still the funniest read on this list. I am embarrassed that I forgot to put this the first time I did this list. It contains the same insightful outlook that you would find in something like Without A Clue which, for those who do not know about that classic movie, is a look at the mystery genre through the eyes of an idiot. The story follows a man who kills killers by accident. My description does not do it justice, but just read the first few pages and you will fall in love with this endearing, twisted, yet still fantastic read.

***

Oh, there are many more, but none stick out like these. This post was inspired by To the Salt of the Sea. She publises some amazing works and I am a huge fan of her. Show her some love, tell her I sent you.

Also, remember that I am publishing a short story on October first, as well as announcing the next piece.

Almighty Human {ANEWSIN VOL.2 — HANNAH JORDAN}

I look up to see something blocking out the sun.
That something grows larger until it falls on me.
My first reaction is to lift my arms to stop it.
After opening my eyes, I am surprised to find that I have actually caught the thing.
My legs tremble beneath me.
My arms shake.
I cannot guess what it is or how this giant thing is not crushing me.
I am not strong enough to hold it.
Based on its sheer weight I should be flattened right now.
So then why am I not?
This giant thing hangs by some force other than my own.
What is saving me right now?
I groan at the weight of my predicament.
Glancing skywards I catch a glimpse of a shiny thing glinting in the sunlight.
Am I holding this thing up, or is it holding me down?
Another grunt.
I look towards the safety of home a short distance away.
From here I can see members of my family.
I can see the rocks marking entry to the colony moved by some power to now block the hole instead.
My family is trapped.
I can see them.
Panicking.
Running.
Attacking.
Defending.
Something terrible is happening.
I wince and shake beneath the incredible burden pinning me.
I cannot get out from under this thing without being crushed.
I, too, am trapped.
Is there purpose behind all this?
I glance up at the shiny thing hovering over home and watch the sunlight focus through it.
It magnifies into a pure point that directs at the earth.
I keep my arms pressed under the giant crushing thing.
What else can I do?
I look back at home.
I can’t save them.
My family is lost.
They run in all directions.
Why is this happening?
I can hear their screams.
I watch that point follow my sister as she flees.
It lights her up.
Then she screams.
She starts to smoke from the inside out.
Then she blackens and chars.
Then she combusts.
Nothing is left of her.
What sort of being would allow this to happen?
Where is God?
The beam of light moves again.
Another sister is caught as she flees.
She burns up before she can cry out.
So I cry for her.
Is the thing that holds me down the same that is killing my family?
I watch the shiny thing methodically direct that light of burning terror and death at my family.
My whole family is panicking.
Does it know what it is doing?
This thing about to crush me into oblivion?
Was this misery inflicted by choice?
Some sick joke a giant plays on those it is bigger than?
I cannot think of a prayer that will save me.
Almighty, spare this poor ant from being crus—.

—

That concludes the second anewsin Publication! I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to Hannah Jordan for submitting this work a little while ago. Please, leave her some love at this link to help support her.

As always, there are goals on Patreon to get this dream off the ground. If you have ideas for more rewards/better rewards, leave a comment here or find me on FaceBook.

What happens next?

I love being asked that question when it comes to my writing. I don’t know: maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I need to make it more obvious in what I dictate that the point is uncertainty?

In life, you live through events and either never grasp their ramifications, or they go right over your head all together. That is how I write. I never really solve the narrative in the strictest sense. I tend to leave the reader with all the information – all the events – and just come to AN ending.

Is that not what I am supposed to do? Do I do it wrong?

I have been inundated with questions regarding You’re Not Dead (which is fitting because production stopped on the fifth. There are still some copies on Amazon) questioning why I ended it the way I did. The response to that is very simple: it was a reflection on the year I had during the events of that book. The ending is not explicit because I have not found out yet. The only ending I will find is my death.

What I find more interesting was how many people have asked me if the next chapter of Elaine is going to sort out some questions.

Allow me to make this as clear as I can: that was a self-contained story. There is no ‘Part Two’ or happy ribbon to mark it off the ol’ reading list. That was never the point and will never be the point to most short stories I write, I do not see our lives as having an intro, conflict, resolution — or at least not often I know that I, personally, have never been privy to such splendour.

I have run into another issue: Should I stick to my guns for my release schedule of ansP stories, or move it over since I already fucked it up? I am not even asking because I want (no, NEED) to release Hannah’s piece, but I feel like I confused the situation already and I want to fix it. Any thought?

OR WE COULD ALL LOOK AT MY PATREON AND HIT $100 A MONTH SO WE DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT AND YOU GET A STORY EVERY MONTH.

PATREON SUPPORTER TALE :: Katrina (or “Kat”)

Kat is a good friend of mine with a strange story that I am both unsure how to tell, and excited to share with the world.

She is from Northern Ireland. She came with her family to stay a few days in Hamilton and stayed at my residence (which was a hotel at the time). I am a bit fuzzy on why we started talking, but regardless: her and I spent hours outside talking about things. Mostly, the pains of being in a wheelchair.

She was also afflicted with something that put her in a chair most of the time. We would spend hours outside in the hot summer sun discussing various topics. Her family and I did not see eye-to-eye on the notorious “Brexit” that was going on at the time, but we never had any bad blood between us.

Over the time we spent together, we spent hours delving into stories of our pasts and killing time laughing at the ridiculous things that happened around us.

Since her departure back to the across the pond, we have kept in contact via the internet. We vent and express issues that we have in our day-to-days and keep each other entertained with the various things we have been spending our time on. She keeps me sane, most of the time, and I hope that I do the same for her. She has sent my wife and I a few things over the last year, and was one of the first to congratulate us on our wedding.

I have been doing thinking about how to go about offering things on Patreon since I opened it back up. I like doing these retrospectives on those I know, but have been dreading the idea of doing the story about dragons for the last little bit, in the event they ever happen. I think I will do chapters. Each chapter will be of equal length, and they will each contain the same level of epic-ness. I refuse to start writing them ahead of time, so even I will be heavily entertained by them when they happen. I hope you like them when they finally happen.

 

BLOG #2

It was my birthday on the 12th! Thank you for the well wishes and happy regards. I was unable to write a post because of the distraction, however. I think I will just use the time slot to advertise and whore myself out a bit!

I do have a book out. It is not available at stores as of right now. The cost is way too high for me right now. With that said, it is available online! I have listed all the stores here. That is also the main website and I put some book-related blogs on there. I am currently writing another book. I cannot, however, decide between a fiction on isolation or another recap this time on the ten years I spent in the music industry. The music one is started, but not expanded. The isolation idea is just that, but I cannot stop being excited about the prospect.

The other idea I have had is to start a general blog showcasing books and things of that nature. That will not be a thing for AT LEAST another year, but does anyone have any thoughts or feels on that idea?

RAMBLES!

I am sorry. I will try to have something with greater purpose next week.

So, it’s been about one year on WP…

I have had this URL in particular since April fourth, 2015. So far, I have had just shy of 3000 people view it and posted 70 times (this update is post 71). I want to formally thank everyone who has come out and supported this project, as well as give a boring update as well as an exciting update!

(I am well aware that I posted something back in February, but this is the one year of this website. One I feel very confident about, even if the information is, at times, very fluffy)

So, the boring update first:
Since I have started writing on here, I have received a great outpour of interest and love from the community that has built. I started writing this for myself, but continue to update because of the questions I have been asked regarding the wheelchair community as a whole. I hope that everyone has found this as interesting as those people that have come up to me voicing interest and such.
I have an apartment I will be moving into (crossing fingers) as of the first of July. Unfortunately, the move is necessary: I have been kicked out of school for doing poorly. It is something I find rather ironic, but it is indeed a fact that I have to deal with. Never fear (if you had fear for some reason), I will be fine. Always have been and always will be.

Now, for the bits I find exciting!
I took an unassisted step the other week! I keep pushing everyday, and I am proud to announce that I take at least one everyday! I am NOWHERE near walking for kilometres, or even ready to leave the wheelchair, but I thought I should talk about that!
ALSO: I got the go ahead from my publisher regarding my book! I am finally done the editing phase, and I will be going ahead with a digital distribution. I want to do a physical one, but I cannot afford it in the slightest. ESPECIALLY with the aforementioned apartment in the near future. I have plans, however, to do a physical release with some added information and chapters if I see there is interest in it. I just cannot go all in for a “maybe” at this point in time.

So, yeah! That’s my update. I hope you are all doing well. Again; thank you for one excellent and interesting year! Here’s to as many as I can do and as many as you would like to read.