Stiltzkin

EDIT: Okay, so it isn't really prose per se, it is more like a narrative.

Okay, this will be a free-write, sort of. Even if this turns out to be crappy as hell, I will still hit the submit buttons ::takes deep breath:: If you get bored, feel free to hit your back button.

As I was falling through the sky, watching the nothing whizz past me, but instead watching the floor below me creep closer, I found myself thinking about the fact that we have become desensitized to many things, such as fast cars. This suddenly seemed like a good time to deploy my parachute, so I did so, and I felt the sudden jerk upward from... what was it called, the updraft? Sure, why not. My train of thought was broken, seeing as how I was now focusing on trying to land properly. This was my first jump, and I'd had no previous training whatsoever, just a shot of tequilla for the "liquid courage" effect. So why was I jumping whilst being so ill prepared? Because many others were, countless others, thousands. Why? Because it was the only way to reach safe grounds in time. Hordes of people were prepared to receive me and rush me into the fallout shelter. Many miles off into the distance a an explosion shone so bright my eyes went blind until I shielded them with my arm. Finally I landed and as I did, I was immediately shoved along until I was inside the fallout shelter. I was one of the last to be horded in, because I was the pilot of the plane that had been carrying many of us refugees. I did not, of course, have any previous flying experience. All I had was a crash course from a retired pilot who was now dead.

Just as the door slammed shut behind me, something crashed into the door. Everyone screamed, and many of those huddling around went deeper into the vault for better shelter. I of course knew what had "crashed" against the door. It had in fact not crashed at all, but had thrashed or perhaps simply clawed at the door. It was one of those dag-nabbed genetically engineering monster cats. I didn't believe in such witchcraft either until I saw it for my own eyes.

What was going on outside was not clear to any one, save for those in power, and not many were privy of who was in power these days. How can this be so? Well, stranger things have happend, my friend.

So whom was fighting whom? I don't really know, although the word "communists" is thrown around quite a bit in contemporary "intellectual" circles. I don't lend too much credence to what these clowns say, but unfortunately it is all I have to work with, which as you can tell from your fruststration as the reader is quite insufficient--so imagine how I must feel about this.

"Adentro! Adentro!" One of the proctors was herding all the cattle... err, I mean, all the people into the interior of the shelter. Now you may have the preconceived notion that this shelter was some fortress of the 20'x20' sort, or perhaps something somewhat larger, such as 50'x50'. It is none of the above. In fact, it is a self-contained ecosystem capable of providing comfortable living conditions to as many as 500,000 people per shelter. An underground city, if you prefer. Don't ask me about the details though, as all I will be able to do is ramble on about the fact that there are plants at every corner which constantly recycle our air back into oxygen. Beyond that, I am ignorant.

Suddenly a familir smell crept into my nostrils. Not a pleasant smell. Then a sight to go along with it--burning... something burning! I dashed around hallways to find the source of this burning, and found that the maintenance crew was already tending to it. I suppose I had a tendency to get overexcited about nothing.

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I have to end it here, because I have lost interest in this story.

Comments? Feedback? Blatant insults?

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The most important thing in this world is love.

losthellhound

There is alot of strong imagry there, and some really good ideas, but its also really fractured. It's har to keep the flow of a story in check and the reader's understanding up with a fractured narrative but when you can do it, it rocks..

I love some of the ideas though, and I'd really like to see more if you ever find interest in it

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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death