https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parallelis...prov=sfla1

Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.

Salma 145:8

translate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
Psalm 145: 8

Reply

I never really liked English theory

I am Zadiner/Zak. Part of Assembly, some other stuff, Founder of some other region.
Hey, I have a bunch of issues. You don't need to care.
Emoji of the week:  :dodgy:

Reply

Since I mentioned other super short stories before, I thought I'd share with you one I'm particularly fond of:

Holy War

They had fought in countless cities across the millennia. The granite tenement walls that framed the alleyway and the shadows of spires, turrets and domes that stretched between the gloomy orange lamplight made this as suitable a setting as any of the others. Not as Gothic as Prague of course, nor as symbolic as Jerusalem, but fitting enough.
Lucifer stood at one end of the alley, his lithe silhouette tapering out towards Michael.  Their eyes were locked and arc sodium light reflected a feral violence.
As, always, it was Lucifer who made the first move, bounding up the alleyway.  He already had his weapons unsheathed, ready to strike into Michael's soft flesh, but Michael, as always, was prepared for the charge.
.
The sound of their battling could be heard up and down the street.  In number 34, the noise awoke Mrs. J. Masson from a light slumber next to her comatose husband. Careful not to wake him up, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the window looking down on the alley. She opened it up, stuck her head out into the chill of night and then, turning towards the warring angels, half screeched, half whispered,
"Get away you noisy beasts! Go, on scat!"
She waved her arms emphatically and Michael, who had his blades buried in Lucifer's side, turned and looked up at her, quizzically.
"You heard me! People want their sleep!"
And then the injured white rolled out of the black's grasp and ran off into the night.

It always turned out that way.

Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.

Salma 145:8

translate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
Psalm 145: 8

Reply

Could I join?

Deputy Regional Minister of the Planning and Development Agency(March 8-May 19, 2014)

Local Council Member(April 24-August 11)

Court Justice of TSP(August 15-December 7)

Quotes

"The 1% is like a 1% battery charge. It will die out if it is not charged(the charge is the 99%). But if you don't charge it, it will die for sure, sooner or later"
- Me (2001- Present)

"Change is the world's blood"
- Me (2001-Present)

[Image: 9ehfkQV.png]

Reply

Could I join?

You can and you have.
(I've edited you in to the OP).

Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.

Salma 145:8

translate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
Psalm 145: 8

Reply

So, I decided to try this photo challenge as well. Idk if this is something, but, meh (302 words btw. I don't care if it's late!).

---

A Fishy Customer

I live in Cherrymaple Shore, a town in the State of Maple in the United States of Arginia. It’s a town known for cherry and maple tree cultivation in a coastal area, just like the name suggests. I own a small store in the suburbs, a custom in Maple (we have stores in our homes, so we can save money instead of actually buying buildings to operate our little shops).

One day, I heard a knock on my door. I proceeded to open the door, in hopes for a customer to purchase my selection of items available in my small store.

It was a customer, but not your average customer.

“Aaaah!”, I screamed, as I was terrified at what appeared at my very eyes.

“What?”, said the creature. I was shocked at his ability to even speak.

A talking octopus?! On land?! How could this be?!

He entered my house, looking at the tiny, improvised shelves of my shop. He grabbed a bag of Maple Pretzels (a kind of pretzel with hints of maple syrup popular in here), and a bottle of water from my store’s mini cooler, which I could describe as a makeshift commercial refrigerator you see in bigger markets.

“How much does this cost?”, the beast standing before me responded.

I was still in disbelief. I was so surprised I failed to respond immediately, and even then my response carried my feelings of speechlessness.

“$5.50…”

He took out a wallet from one of his tentacles, and handed me a five-dollar bill, plus one halfer (a common name for the 50 cents, like a quarter for 25 cents). As he finished paying, he left, eating his purchased foodstuff along his way.

I wonder what happened to that octopus after he left.

Deputy Regional Minister of the Planning and Development Agency(March 8-May 19, 2014)

Local Council Member(April 24-August 11)

Court Justice of TSP(August 15-December 7)

Quotes

"The 1% is like a 1% battery charge. It will die out if it is not charged(the charge is the 99%). But if you don't charge it, it will die for sure, sooner or later"
- Me (2001- Present)

"Change is the world's blood"
- Me (2001-Present)

[Image: 9ehfkQV.png]

(This post was last modified: 03-04-2017, 10:32 PM by Ryccia.)

Reply

A Fishy Customer

I liked this. You did a good job of capturing the surprise of the scene and the feelings of your narrator. I'd probably recommend using less time explaining elements of Aringian/Maple State culture, though. In such a short piece, it's not a good idea to fill up with exposition. Since the fictional setting isn't really the point of the piece, next time you might choose to ground it more in reality so the focus stays on the strange encounter with the octopus (which is delightfully strange, also I want some of those pretzels).

Thanks for submitting something!

Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.

Salma 145:8

translate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
Psalm 145: 8

Reply

Since I mentioned other super short stories before, I thought I'd share with you one I'm particularly fond of:

Holy War

They had fought in countless cities across the millennia. The granite tenement walls that framed the alleyway and the shadows of spires, turrets and domes that stretched between the gloomy orange lamplight made this as suitable a setting as any of the others. Not as Gothic as Prague of course, nor as symbolic as Jerusalem, but fitting enough.
Lucifer stood at one end of the alley, his lithe silhouette tapering out towards Michael.  Their eyes were locked and arc sodium light reflected a feral violence.
As, always, it was Lucifer who made the first move, bounding up the alleyway.  He already had his weapons unsheathed, ready to strike into Michael's soft flesh, but Michael, as always, was prepared for the charge.
.
The sound of their battling could be heard up and down the street.  In number 34, the noise awoke Mrs. J. Masson from a light slumber next to her comatose husband. Careful not to wake him up, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the window looking down on the alley. She opened it up, stuck her head out into the chill of night and then, turning towards the warring angels, half screeched, half whispered,
"Get away you noisy beasts! Go, on scat!"
She waved her arms emphatically and Michael, who had his blades buried in Lucifer's side, turned and looked up at her, quizzically.
"You heard me! People want their sleep!"
And then the injured white rolled out of the black's grasp and ran off into the night.

It always turned out that way.

Your descriptions are really awesome and I like how this starts off so serious and then gets silly towards the end. I thought they were angels and by the end was like "Cats" :O


&Ryccia, I'm glad you've joined and think your piece is funny

Escade

~ Positions Held in TSP ~
Delegate | Vice Delegate 
Minister of Regional Affairs, | Minister of Foreign Affairs | Minister of Military Affairs
~ The Sparkly One ~

My Pinterest

 

Reply

-snip-

Thanks! Description is what I love to read and write the most, so I'm glad you enjoyed it here.

The description in this story (and the name and speech of the one voiced character) is all inspired by the city where I live: Aberdeen, Scotland. In fact, the story has its origins in a walk home late one night back when I was still a student and I saw some cats staring at me from an alley just around the corner from my flat, so that's where I always imagine it taking place.

Having been to Prague since (for my honeymoon) I have to say it was not as gothic as I had been led to believe. Still beautiful, though, but Budapest is better!

Which leads me on to my next piece to share, a prose poem about Budapest's (and really anywhere else's) contrasting beauty, history and political reality.

A Fekete Duna (The Black Danube)

The river is black now.  By day she flows a murky, greenish brown, and Strauss is proven false.  Swimmers brave the beaches of Margit Sziget and there are parties by the banks, but though the breeze is fresh and the view a pearl of Europe, you cannot escape that filmy surface, that unclean sheen, that tepid, ancient lie.

But the river is black now; lacquered gold where street lamps cast their gaze.  Her bridges arc in filigree chords and all the monuments of greatness - squandered and taken - stand out like rich topaz on a field of starry black.  Tourists smile and point, immortalise themselves on her banks and spans.  They are backlit by splendour, eyes starry in the flash. Beneath, pleasure boats cruise past like they're sliding on glass, through the shade of their Grand Prince, beneath the chains and the roaring lions, towards freedom (hid) and the distant, stolen sea.  They slice through their own reflections and are gone.

But the river is black now - she frames her city like a mirror in a darkened room, defining light and shade and nothing more.  She cuts between classes, the high and low, between those elevated and those levelled; West and East.  Spots of colour on her banks tell of burger chains and clubs, vending machines and hotel bars.  Trams weave by like the ghosts of regimes past.

But the river is black now, so the old man on the hill does not watch her, nor remember how they threw him to her grasp; the red wake he left behind him in his spiked and sudden coffin.  The river stained, the bishop sainted, yet above a verdant lady stands, her gaze upon that long, dark ribbon: not just Gellért's blood at all.  How could she glance away from one she claims, twice now, to have freed?

But the river is black now - on her banks lie many shoes, cast-off and cast iron: forgotten reminders of a forgettable night, or a frozen memory of an unmentionable one.  Who wishes to recall such cold amidst the summer heat, or the black-clad ice that flowed through the city and turned the river white, then red.

But the river is black now - no one sees those shapes lurking in its shadows, picking scraps and making do midst the waste and grime, lost and forgotten in its flow like the souls in back alleys begging for change, or the woman selling flowers to tourists, back bent and humbled even as the roses stand tall and proud.

Because the river is black now, and every step forward seems a step further back.  All this progress, like the Danube, merely lies.

Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.

Salma 145:8

translate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
Psalm 145: 8

Reply

The descriptions are very well done here and add a ominous and gritty feeling.

Escade

~ Positions Held in TSP ~
Delegate | Vice Delegate 
Minister of Regional Affairs, | Minister of Foreign Affairs | Minister of Military Affairs
~ The Sparkly One ~

My Pinterest

 

Reply