Stories tagged “boredom”
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A Day in the Life of a Magician
Brandon hated his job. Six years of school and now he stands beside a conveyor belt and casts simple creation spells from nine to five every day. Sure, him and five others could easily do the work that a hundred machines could do in a day, and sure the...
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What to Write?
What to write, What to write? Isn’t that the ultimate question? Wait, I like this one better: What to read? What would you like to read? Help me please, Inspiration is sparse, And even in a room full of new people that share my same love, I feel ...
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The Ballad of Sir Wathingham
Jetin the bard stood fingering his mandolin as he listened to Sir Wathingham drone on about his latest adventure. He knew he would be expected to recite every one of Sir Wathingham’s deeds to townsfolk far and wide, yet he could not force himself...
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She said...
She said she’d take me anywhere, so long as I was clean. But I haven’t been clean for years now. A filthy mind full of dark images and the degradation of the bigger picture – the belief that no one and nothing is sacred. I don’t...
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Down and Out
I picked up the lawn chair I had stored in the barn to keep it from being dried and cracked by the harsh summer sun. I set it down in the usual place, between the side door of the house and the big elm tree. And I waited. My prey emerged from the roof ...
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Bored with Murder
Liv was obsessed with crime novels. She read them day and night, devouring Agatha Christie in the evenings, and eating up Sir Arthur Conan Doyle with her her lunch. This love had been instilled in her when she was young, when she used to watch old crim...
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Gus
I slumped over my kitchen table; raising my head, my eyes first fell on the fishbowl in the middle of the table housing the average-looking goldfish I bought on a whim a few months back. My cousins insisted on calling it Gus, so naturally I also called...
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The Runaways - Boredom
“Why does it have to be so boring here?” exclaimed James Cartwright as he extended his arms and leaned back in his chair, yawning the biggest yawn in all his fifteen years. He looked out his window at the darkness of the night. It was a war...
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Screw the titles
Also, all these dears because you know what I’m going to do. Lets start with the first week I met you, shall we? The day I first met you- Blake Worthington. You know what you did. You flipped me off, which I find quite strange. Second day: This i...
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Sisyphus
Pavlov lights a cigarette, and fans himself with a girlie mag in a vain attempt to beat the intense heat that prevails even in the midday shade of the pipeline. The Equatorial Salt Flat is a hot place, and the desert wind roars through hot and gritty. ...
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Sisyphus, Part Two
Pavlov squints and looks out over the flats. A dim shadow is walking towards him, dressed in white fatigues stained brown with dust. A high-power ballistic rifle hangs over its shoulder, and Pavlov can make out a brown leather holster on the man’...
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Sisyphus, Part Three
“Dead?” “Dead. When I got there, it was a mess. The buildings had been burnt, the pipeline was slashed, and I’m not even going to say what happened to the bodies.” The nocturnal predators of Sisyphus were known for their appetites. Pavlov no...
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Sisyphus, Part Four
Larssen’s been gone for two hours. The sun’s getting lower, and Pavlov is almost out of cigarettes. Dusk is the worst time. The light reflects off of the mirror-polished saltflats, and the horizon is bright blur for raiders and animals to h...
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Sisyphus, Part Five
The critter sniffs the air. Pavlov’s seen this type before. Vaguely reptilian, but nearly mammalian with the hair and snout. Pavlov is frozen. The tail swipes back and forth. Sweat beads on Pavlov’s forehead. His rifle is in his hands. Brin...
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Sisyphus, Part Six
Pavlov knows his time has come. The critter is no longer sniffling the air. It takes full snorts of the air, trying to find that elusive scent of sweat, nicotine, and fear. Its short, forked tongue laps at the dusty breeze. Pavlov closes his eyes for a...
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Write At This Moment
ITALIC UPPERCASE bold lowercase — Hands paused on the keys, eyes unevenly closing, blocking out the hollow, curving hallways and distant windows. One Republic had a way of interrupting thoughts, while seeding new blossoms of perception and imager...
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Living
It’s better than dying. During my blue period, when the first protean delights of immortality had passed, and I was left with the prospect of undying boredom. Artistically, I mastered painting, sculpture, and drama. Athletically, under the guise ...
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Under the Sakura Tree
She stood there, under the Sakura tree, at exactly 5 o’ clock in the afternoon. She watched aimlessly as the cars passed by her and ignored the horrible beeping and honking signs of those air polluting troublemakers. She waited, waited, and waited. S...
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stop thinking
»Fuck«, he thought as he was standing on the same spot for like, don‘t know, the 12th time. Guess this whole thing climaxed in a mix of greed for stacking paper and smelling some new pussy. Never thought of everything like this before. Since colle...