Lawrence's Leg_Danalli_Market Value_The West and Beyond Bar and Grill (1800 Words)
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Lawrence's Leg
“Be a man,” said Joseph. “I'm tired of your complaints.”“But an artificial limb?” Lawrence shuddered. “How does that make me more of a man? I get along fine with one leg.”“Bullshit!” Joseph's scowl dug trenches in his forehead. “Yesterday you were practically crying in your beer. Called yourself a cripple. Donwww.onedoor.cc't tell me you get along fine.”“Jeez, relax.” Lawrence held up his hands. “You know how I feel about robot stuff.”“Yeah, I know how you feel about robotics, and it's stupid.”Lawrence began to see red – his pulse raced. “Hey, don't you call me -”“- stupid. Too bad, man. I've heard you crab...
Danalli
The war only lasted eight days. That’s all the time it took for the government to destroy anything and anyone who had the courage to fight back. I spent all eight days hiding in a drainage pipe on 8th Avenue. Not out of fear of being noticed -- as they would have thought me to be one of them -- but mostly out of grief and a desire to block out the world. The relative quiet of the dark, damp space was a solace compared to the chaos of screaming and loud booms up above. Down there I did not have to watch as my family and friends were executed. Sometimes in mass. Sometimes one by one. Always with...
Market Value
“Oh-ho, a customer!” shouts the diminutive figure crouched behind the counter. My implanted translator device has no trouble conveying the eagerness in its voice. “I have just the thing for you, dear sapient!”I eye the little being askance. It’s about three feet tall, most of that a long neck balancing an egg-shaped head with pinched features and tufts of white hair. I sincerely doubt it has anything I want, but I know its greeting is all part of an act.The bustles toward the back of its stall, beckoning me to come closer. “See here.” It gestures at the rear wall, upon which hang a wide ...
The West and Beyond Bar and Grill (1800 Words)
Donald Zagardo zagdo@hotmail.comThe West and Beyond Bar and Grill by Donald ZagardoThere were no dying pleas, cries or screams, just blood and vomit, burning flesh, bugged out eyes, then nothing. I listened to civilian radio stations every day, all my life, until the music stopped, then to signals from various military centers until they went dead. It happened over the course of less than twenty-four months; twenty...