Gritting her teeth and gripping her broadsword with both hands in front of her, she stood at ready, her piercing eyes focused on her foe in front of her. Before her was the Blackguard, the most fearsome dark knight of the land. She didn't want this encounter to occur, but it was by a sheer twist of fate that she got involved in this duel.
The Blackguard stood his ground, a massive 7-foot character in full plate armour, himself at the ready with a longsword held to his front with both his hands. Rumours had it that he was a skilled swordsman and has slain all who dared cross his path. Looking at him, she didn't see how those rumours could be false. All in all, he was an impressive figure, and his mastery in his craft was almost apparent as he stood there motionless, waiting for her first move---there is usually less incentive to be on the attacking side when one is assured of one's defensive ability.
A bead of sweat rippled down her face in the blazing sun along the forsaken road. She held herself steady, and decided to end it once and for all. With a shout, she thrusted her broadsword outwards in a half-run, aiming for his upper right arm. Deftly, he shifted himself to the left and brought his longsword down on her broadsword as it came close to him, stopping her in that split second, and swung his blade towards her neck.
She quickly crouched and threw her broadsword towards the right, parrying the blow that was aiming for her. With quick reflexes, his longsword went over to the other side, and in panic she leapt backwards, only to find herself stumbling over an out rock.
With a satisfied laugh, the Blackguard aimed his blade at her neck and stood with a foot on her chest, crushing it slightly.
``Begone you wench! I will not waste my strength on such a petty creature like you!''
Wednesday, 30 April 2008
Friday, 11 April 2008
Resting Place
Sally stood there, shaking uncontrollably as the pall bearers lowered the casket into the freshly dug grave. It was such an emotional moment, to see one's loved one finally being given a proper burial place.
``Calm down my dear,'' Adam said reassuringly as he gave her a slight hug from behind.
``I... I'm trying Adam. But it's just that... that Dad finally has a place where he can be laid to rest, after all the turmoil with my brothers-in-law,'' Sally tearfully replied.
``I know, I know,'' began Adam, ``I know how it feels. But think of it, do you think Dad would want to see you crying like this?''
``No...''
``Alright then, just calm down,'' Adam said gently.
``Okay.''
The machinations behind what had transpired were baffling, even to Adam, who did most of the wrangling necessary to secure this grave site. Sally's brothers-in-law were adamant that a cheaper grave site ought to be found for the dead old man, claiming that the original site that the old man chose was not worth the money.
At first, Sally started to protest about how it was going against her father's wishes and such, but being the chauvinists they were, the brothers-in-law refuse to accede to what she said. Her sisters were of no good; each of them were completely subservient to their husbands and didn't dare to fight for their father's wishes. The tangling and politicking got so out of control that she had to ask Adam to step in as an outside observer to help resolve the matter.
Adam had hesitated---he didn't felt that it was his place in interfere what was essentially a family issue. But Sally was so sad and was practically breaking down in front of him that he relented and decided to help Sally in fighting for her father's wishes.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 11 Apr 2008 08:53:39)
``Calm down my dear,'' Adam said reassuringly as he gave her a slight hug from behind.
``I... I'm trying Adam. But it's just that... that Dad finally has a place where he can be laid to rest, after all the turmoil with my brothers-in-law,'' Sally tearfully replied.
``I know, I know,'' began Adam, ``I know how it feels. But think of it, do you think Dad would want to see you crying like this?''
``No...''
``Alright then, just calm down,'' Adam said gently.
``Okay.''
The machinations behind what had transpired were baffling, even to Adam, who did most of the wrangling necessary to secure this grave site. Sally's brothers-in-law were adamant that a cheaper grave site ought to be found for the dead old man, claiming that the original site that the old man chose was not worth the money.
At first, Sally started to protest about how it was going against her father's wishes and such, but being the chauvinists they were, the brothers-in-law refuse to accede to what she said. Her sisters were of no good; each of them were completely subservient to their husbands and didn't dare to fight for their father's wishes. The tangling and politicking got so out of control that she had to ask Adam to step in as an outside observer to help resolve the matter.
Adam had hesitated---he didn't felt that it was his place in interfere what was essentially a family issue. But Sally was so sad and was practically breaking down in front of him that he relented and decided to help Sally in fighting for her father's wishes.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 11 Apr 2008 08:53:39)
Monday, 7 April 2008
Flute or Food
Sally contemplated, and wondered if it was a good idea for her to take part in the performance. After all, it has been a long while since she last played her flute, and with that in mind, her skills are probably still a little rusty.
But Alan was going to be there, as a cellist. Her heart fluttered a little each time the remembered Alan, for all his sweetness, manliness and the warm embraces that he gives. She wasn't content with just showing up at the orchestra to watch Alan play---she wanted to be with Alan and play it.
With a slight sigh, she opened up her elegant flute case and lovingly removed the headjoint, main body and foot joint and assembled them with relative ease. Sitting in front of her musical stand with music on it, she started to practice the flute parts of the pieces.
Soon, the evening arrived, and Sally was still playing on the flute. Her cellphone rang, and hastily, she put her flute down and picked up her cellphone to answer it.
``Hi...?''
``Hey Sally, it's Alan!''
``Oh, Alan! What's up?''
``I was wondering if you'd be free for dinner tonight. I know that it is a little bit late and such, but I found this place that is awesome and would like you to be there.''
Sally was in a spot. On the one hand, she hadn't eaten and would love to go with Alan for dinner, yet on the other hand she had to practice on her flute to ensure that she does a good job at the performance that was going to be in 3 days.
`Oh Alan, why must you always give me such problems?' she thought as she wondered what she should say to him.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 07 Apr 2008 07:50:15)
But Alan was going to be there, as a cellist. Her heart fluttered a little each time the remembered Alan, for all his sweetness, manliness and the warm embraces that he gives. She wasn't content with just showing up at the orchestra to watch Alan play---she wanted to be with Alan and play it.
With a slight sigh, she opened up her elegant flute case and lovingly removed the headjoint, main body and foot joint and assembled them with relative ease. Sitting in front of her musical stand with music on it, she started to practice the flute parts of the pieces.
Soon, the evening arrived, and Sally was still playing on the flute. Her cellphone rang, and hastily, she put her flute down and picked up her cellphone to answer it.
``Hi...?''
``Hey Sally, it's Alan!''
``Oh, Alan! What's up?''
``I was wondering if you'd be free for dinner tonight. I know that it is a little bit late and such, but I found this place that is awesome and would like you to be there.''
Sally was in a spot. On the one hand, she hadn't eaten and would love to go with Alan for dinner, yet on the other hand she had to practice on her flute to ensure that she does a good job at the performance that was going to be in 3 days.
`Oh Alan, why must you always give me such problems?' she thought as she wondered what she should say to him.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 07 Apr 2008 07:50:15)
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
What Did It Mean?
Summer time, a period of sun, sand and the waves. The sweltering heat gets into almost everyone, even for those who are used to the generally muggy feeling.
It was of no difference to him of course. Summer time in the tropics was especially bad, considering the fact that in the tropics, it was always hot and muggy all year round. But unlike most of his cohort, there was a rather different feeling for him; while the rest felt the heat broiling them, he felt only a strange, cold detachedness.
A kiss. It all started from a kiss. On the last possible day of class before the break of the summer holidays, when he was about to leave the dormitories to catch his flight home, while he was standing at the bus stop waiting for the airport shuttle, she came by shyly, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before turning around and running away, leaving him standing there shocked and disorientated.
What did that kiss mean? It was something that had been bugging him for the most of the break, and till then, he still had no clue what to make of it. Was it a good luck kiss? No, it couldn't be---no good luck kiss would be done in the manner that she did. Was it a kiss representative of her innate feelings for him? Perhaps, but they have always had a friendly relationship with each other for quite a long time, so it might not be the case.
Or could it?
That possbility had been floating around in his head for a long time, and the more that he thought about it, the more that it seemed to be likely. But each time he thought about the possibility, the more he wanted to reject it; what was it in him that she found attractive? That didn't make any sense to him; he was neither good-looking nor rich, and was definitely not a very social person to start with, having turned down practically every invitation to parties that his other friends have given him.
So, could that kiss really mean more? Or was he just trying to delude himself into believing that there was more than there is? He couldn't decide. The hot dreary summer has turned into a tumultous weather of sorts marked by squalls, sunshine and fog.
He was confused; he didn't know what to make of it. Even after 3 months of thinking through it, he still had no clue. He thought of talking to her and asking her what she meant, but thought better of it. What would his response be if she confessed that she had a liking for him?
Sitting at the balcony of his apartment, he looked on into the horizon, waiting for the day that the fall semester would begin so that he could look her up and ask her directly, what that kiss meant.
Perhaps he would be better prepared then.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 31 Mar 2008 14:55:49)
It was of no difference to him of course. Summer time in the tropics was especially bad, considering the fact that in the tropics, it was always hot and muggy all year round. But unlike most of his cohort, there was a rather different feeling for him; while the rest felt the heat broiling them, he felt only a strange, cold detachedness.
A kiss. It all started from a kiss. On the last possible day of class before the break of the summer holidays, when he was about to leave the dormitories to catch his flight home, while he was standing at the bus stop waiting for the airport shuttle, she came by shyly, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before turning around and running away, leaving him standing there shocked and disorientated.
What did that kiss mean? It was something that had been bugging him for the most of the break, and till then, he still had no clue what to make of it. Was it a good luck kiss? No, it couldn't be---no good luck kiss would be done in the manner that she did. Was it a kiss representative of her innate feelings for him? Perhaps, but they have always had a friendly relationship with each other for quite a long time, so it might not be the case.
Or could it?
That possbility had been floating around in his head for a long time, and the more that he thought about it, the more that it seemed to be likely. But each time he thought about the possibility, the more he wanted to reject it; what was it in him that she found attractive? That didn't make any sense to him; he was neither good-looking nor rich, and was definitely not a very social person to start with, having turned down practically every invitation to parties that his other friends have given him.
So, could that kiss really mean more? Or was he just trying to delude himself into believing that there was more than there is? He couldn't decide. The hot dreary summer has turned into a tumultous weather of sorts marked by squalls, sunshine and fog.
He was confused; he didn't know what to make of it. Even after 3 months of thinking through it, he still had no clue. He thought of talking to her and asking her what she meant, but thought better of it. What would his response be if she confessed that she had a liking for him?
Sitting at the balcony of his apartment, he looked on into the horizon, waiting for the day that the fall semester would begin so that he could look her up and ask her directly, what that kiss meant.
Perhaps he would be better prepared then.
(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 31 Mar 2008 14:55:49)
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