Tag: biographical

Block Breaker #3

Block breakers are short stories, random ditties for which the only real purpose is to write something, anything when Writer’s Block strikes. Quality, verbosity, fidelity, consistency – none of these words apply. Just write or die.

So I’m procrastinating from prepping for writing, by writing… here we go again!

Block breakers are short stories, random ditties for which the only real purpose is to write something, anything when Writer’s Block strikes. Quality, verbosity, fidelity, consistency – none of these words apply. Just write or die.

So I’m procrastinating from prepping for writing, by writing… here we go again!

P.s. days later, and this has turned into quite a monster, highlighted this in  the Ah the Corners post, it grew and grew, pulled in research, had a few bumpy changes of directions. It’s still not edited, nor even spell checked – exactly as a Block Breaker should be, but it’s 8,500 words, about ten times longer than it should be. Going to be another post, just exploring this monster. However I put it out there for those with the patient, and ability to read drivel.

Ascendant’s Fire

“Brother!” Kaalem screamed, spotting her enemy across the battlefield, she charged forwards sword gleaming in the light of fire and destruction around her as it trailed behind poised to strike.

Rylan turned to face the scream, he pulled his battleaxe from it’s recent victim, and as he moved into a  ready stance he drew the battleaxe up ready to strike, his gaze looked on the threat charging across the battlefield.

The siblings meters away from clashing, were suddenly seperated by a wall of fire that swept across the carnage between them, blocking the way.

Kaalem screamed as she drew up short before the flames, just then an enemy soldier charged at her, lunging with a lance, she rolled to the left away from the flames, and as she found her feet, the sword struck out biting into the out stretched arm, causing it to recoil in pain. The soldier was hardy though, he switched the lance to his arm, and wielded it one handed. Kaalem feigned a roll to the right, and as the lance struck true to where she should have been, she plunged her blade into his eye, his body went limp, and as she withdrew the blade the body slumped to the ground twitching.

A ghostly figure drew up beside the warrior.

“You did it,” she accused him, as she cleaned the blade.

“It was not time, you’re not ready,” the figure said calmly.

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Block Breaker #2

Block breakers are short stories, random ditties for which the only real purpose is to write something, anything when Writer’s Block strikes. Quality, verbosity, fidelity, consistency – none of these words apply. Just write or die.

Not done one in a while, but got an itch.

 

Middling William

by Jonathan Lawrence

I remember the day I first met William, like it was yesterday, even as the decades have flowed by, it’s one of my most vivid memories.

The strange thing is when I first met him, he didn’t leave that much of an impression immediately. He was middling everything, middling height, middling build, middling clothes – I mean everything.

“Ms Rebutem,” William said curt but polite.

“Constable,” I replied, barely noticing him among the crowd of Lookie-loos, here to see the accident. It took me several moments to realise someone had addressed me by name. I’m not crazy, or stupid, but when a tanker over turns as a police officer in London, your focus tends to be on the multitudes that come to gawp, oh don’t look at me like that, the fire brigade and ambulance were dealing with the driver.

“Excuse me, how do you know my name?” I asked him.

“It’s on your label,” he said matter of factly pointing at the velcro patch on my stab vest, it was a more dangerous world back then, “I’m William,” he was returning the gift.

“It also says Constable,” I said annoyed at the middling man, “I’m kind of busy right now.”

“You’ll be busier when that tanker explodes,” he said confidently, there was nothing middling about his voice, it was both strong and calm, easily audible over the throng of by standers, he looked at his watch, “In about one minutes give or a take a few seconds. I’d call everyone back, if I were you?”

“What?” I asked confused and still annoyed, and mildly alarmed even though in the back of my mind I was sure he was a lunatic.

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