PROPHECY
White dog, blackened south, Millions dead to reason. Burning but not sign from God, Thinking the new treason.
(poem / prophecy I wrote in 2003)
Fedizen of the mastodon.art at @ovro@mastodon.art, come say hi.
Very short fiction
White dog, blackened south, Millions dead to reason. Burning but not sign from God, Thinking the new treason.
(poem / prophecy I wrote in 2003)
Fedizen of the mastodon.art at @ovro@mastodon.art, come say hi.
Some day they will all find out and know they were always right.
Some day they will all find out and won't settle for shunning.
Some day they will all find out but the day is not today.
I pray it is not today.
#SmallPoems #Poetry #MicroFiction #SmallStories
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“I feel like people use me as a special tool. Forgotten in a box until my brain or skills are needed, used and put away again.” I said, checking my files for the requested piece of info.
Ty looked up at the screen, somewhat startled. “You said something? Sorry didn't hear, I was chatting with Mia.”
“I was just muttering to myself…” “Yeah ok. Did you find it?” “Yes, I'm sending it now.” “Thanks! We got to go out for a coffee or something, I'll call you!”
Ty didn't wait for my answer before ending the call.
“No, you won't”, I sighed, “You won't “
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The dust hadn't yet settled, but hearing “Im one man failure rate!” said with a tone of being accompanied with a sheepish grin told me there were no casualties.
I assumed my usual role in situations like this and said: “I don't think the term works like that. You are thinking of 'disaster zone'...”
Kay groaned, theatrically: “SEE! Didn't get THAT right, either!”
“And you're not a man.”
She collapsed on the floor, laughing.“Ann, you're KILLING me!”
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“Well, you're just a lovely little ball of paranoid psychosis.” she said while peering down at me with a studying eye. Her voice oozed false lightness, the tone reserved for the lesser-than. Babies, puppies, the elderly, the mentally… less.
My mind was burning. “You sick sadistic FUCK! With what right…”, but my body managed only a whimper and an involuntary twitch.
With the arrogance of power she read this to her liking. “Ball! Yes.”, she cooed. “No 'play ball' – YOU are the ball, yes you are!”
Then she turned another knob.
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One day I will find a way to free all the digital zombies, stuck on a page, reliving their last post, final update, ultimate comment
(“You posted this five years ago! Repost as memories? [ ] yes [ ] yes”)
One day I will find a way to free all the digital zombies, trapped by information megacorps, release their bitful souls
One day I will find a way to free all the digital zombies, kickstart an Apocalypse in ones and zeros
#MicroFiction #TootFic #ShortSciFi #Poetry
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“I don't know…” I said. “I'm still not certain that's a good idea.”
“Oh come on!” she replied, pretending to poke my ribs repeatedly with both her index fingers, making faux stabs in rapid fire sequence. I knew my part in this game of hers and pretended to try dodging her pokes. “What do you have to lose?”
Well...I don't know…” I said. “Everything!”, I thought.
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They came at night with their torches and weapons, like they always do. Teeth bared, eyes glazed, in heat for the hunting of the less-than. Nostrils flaring for the scent of fear, intoxicated by it.
Not my fear. Theirs. Fear of the Other. Of change.
Somewhere, faintly, fear of doing the wrong thing, of being found out, shamed. Of what they see of themselves in me.
Getting out to meet the mob robs them the joy of catch and they fall silent. Staring down the leader I deckare: “I am not a monster.”
This I will not survive.
#MicroFiction #TootFic #ShortHorror
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The excitement was downright tangible. Means of communication was found and proven to work!
The aliens had agreed to have their first press conference for journalists. One for each country, one question per journalist.
Just as everybody was set and the event was about to begin, there appeared to be some commotion among the press. Somebody was shuffling and elbowing their way up to the front.
There was some grumbling, but if only one out of around 200 was that uncivilized, things were pretty good, actually!
The conference began, it was time for first question. Just as the Afghani journalist was about to ask her question, that pushy one shouted:
“Why did you land HERE, instead of the United States?'
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Listen to the words of the Goddesses, who through times and the timeless have been called with their many names – Gaia, Nuit, Danu and Vesta, Artemis, Diana, Isis, and Manalatar, and by many others as they are many.
We are the watery depths of life yet to come. The ones who never were, who ever are and who will yet to come.We are the darkness and chaos and will to be one. We are the starry skies, the sun, moon and the clouds. We are the ground and the life and the moist and the rot. We are the leafs and the greenness, the flesh and the red. We are the hoof and the claw, the sound, and the silence.
When you hear us, we are there. When you need us, we are there. In your need and your plenty do gather or seclude. Learn our ways, learn our words and our rites, in your heart. For we have our ways, we each have our words and our rites. Adore us in secret, adore us in light, adore us in the night of the day and adore us in your blight. Be you needfull or plenty, enslaved or flying free.
Sing, feast, dance, make music and love. Rage, cry, with tearing and tears and laugher. Give sacrifice, a willing gift to us who so require. We are every emotion and your living is in our life. Ours is the joy and the sorrow, and life ever changing.
We're the chaos of nothing and the potential to all. We are the life and the sex, the birth and the pains of birth. We are the sadness and relief of life not yet to come, the joys and the growing, the cry and the smile of child. We're the bewilderment, the arrogance and wisdom of youth, we are the awakening. We're the virginal and the holy whore, the barren and the fruitful. We are the nurturing, the giving of life, the warring and the slaying. We're the beauty and the ugliness, the vanity and the vengeance. We're the aging and the wisdom of old, the fragility and the strength, the sickness and healing, the death and the death-head.
You will find us in the heart of your hearts and see us in your life. Look inside and around and you'll know who of us is calling. Live and learn, learn to live, find yourself and be just. For we are here as we have always been, to be found within and without.
Fedizen of the mastodon.art at @ovro@mastodon.art, come say hi.