January 2011 Writing Challenge -- digs wins!

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StormFeather

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RULES:​

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme in no more than 75 words
The title is not part of the word count -- or the story
It should be a story, not simply description
It can be prose or poetry
One entry per person
All stories Copyright 2011 by their respective authors, who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here.​




Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, January 23 2011
Voting Ends at 11:59 pm GMT, January 28 2011
(January 30, in the event of a tie-breaker poll)​

You do not have to submit a story in order to vote -- in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner​


The Magnificent Prize:​

The Dignified Congratulations/Groveling Admiration of Your Peers
and the privilege of choosing next month's theme and genre​




This month's theme is:​


REVOLUTION


Stories can be any genre you like - no restrictions (except to keep it clean!)

Happy writing!​
 
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He'd died a million times in his dreams. He'd felt every musketshot rend his flesh.

Now it was real. Astride the barricade, sword in hand, the King's blood still fresh, it was all too real. He was the People's Champion, bringing justice to the oppressor with a will which brooked no opposition.

For a moment, as the fighting raged about him, he thought of the past, of his brother being crowned. Tears fell slowly.
 
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Most non-triumphant by design.

They swelled with pride as they looked up at the beast they had created.
“It’s the biggest the world has ever seen” he shouted as he flung the great leaver forward.

The Giant wheel jerked in to action, the crowds cheers roared, so loud nobody heard the metal twisting and groaning, the gears grinding.

The wheel slowly leaning over toward the gathered public, cheers now turning to screams.
Their triumph never completed its first revolution.
 
Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore

Only the signature bandana gave him away. I hardly recognised this raving, ill-kempt figure as the poster boy for a generation.

“The Movement is finished, man, don’t you see? A Movement, it starts, it moves, then it just stops. But a revolution, man, it rolls, round and round and never stops. You dig?”

This was shear anarchy, not the regime change we needed. So he died a hero, and The Struggle continues in his name.
 
A New Kind of Politics



The distant chatter of machine-gun fire now dissipating, the new President took his place in front of the television cameras. Glancing from the corner of his eye at the bullet-riddled corpse of the previous incumbent still sprawled on the plush carpet just out of camera-shot, he allowed himself a brief twitch of a smile. Straightening the braid on his uniform he turned towards the cameras to address the nation: "My fellow Americans..."
 
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Dictionary Fail.com


“Taxes are too high, punishments too harsh, we need change,” the people said. “Assassins, give us a means of revolution!”

Dictionary consulted, the assassins agreed, revolution was within their grasp. They worked and toiled while people were taxed, suffering under the King's rule.

“Here, good people, is your tool of revolution,” they announced one day.

The people did cheer until they saw the tool that had been made.

“It's a bloody wheel...” they groaned.
 
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…is Revolution

We, silent wounded of another’s strife,
Unsung kings, born to wear a beggar’s life.

No saints’ false vestment have we donned,
Nor sought our souls to sell,
Yet we less of Heaven high beyond
Know than we do of Hell.

By immiseration constant driven,
This foreborne life, no privilege given.

We are a nation of the night,
But life has just begun,
And this, their lowly satellite,
Shall soon eclipse their sun.

And My Name...
 
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Reprise

The steam-powered engines of war were silent, and soldiers and sorcerers had returned to normal life. That first, stirring march had given way to a martial anthem, yet now a peaceful melody filled the air.

But some weren't happy.

He tapped his finger as the record played, shocked by the sudden defeat and the concessions they'd made. Peace, but at what cost?

The needle returned to the start, and the music began again.
 
Hyperion to a Satyr

Dionysus stood firm, eyeing the stone goliath that crushed trees and houses underfoot. Arrows and hurled boulders had proven ineffective, bouncing off the huge creature; resulting only in frustrated bellows.

It mattered little to Dionysus. As a discus thrower, he was second to none. He knew of the weak spot just below the monstrosity’s chin. Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he aimed and spun full circle, releasing the disc.

And he hoped.
 
*The First Wife*


"Ssswiftly, tassste it."

"Its forbidden..." The woman whispered to the serpent coiled about her legs. Slowly the
snake writhed upwards, encircling her naked body.

"He isss ssselfisshh, arrogant. Ssshow him hisss error."

"What will happen?"

"Freedom..."

"Freedom?" The woman glanced at the fruit cupped in her hands.

"Live asss yyyou pleassse. Eat asss yyyou pleassse. Love asss yyyou pleasse."

"Freedom." She raised the fruit to her mouth as someone called from far away...

"LILLITH! NO!"
 
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30. 1. 1649

Crowds of hundreds had formed. They shuffled and pushed. They had to see, had to catch a glimpse. This day they would all remember.

“I shall go from a corruptible, to an incorruptible Crown.” He addressed his people. “Where no disturbance can be.” Spoke his last words.

He took his place.

Quick nod to the Executioner, the axe came down.

Blood gushed from the body.

A hush silenced the crowd.

Revolution!


The King is dead.
 
The Spearhead of the Revolution


The elf snuck in silently, making her way past the guards, hiding in the shadows as the patrols passed by.

She smirked at the thought of how much she had been paid. What the peasants combined was half her usual fee, but she accepted on grounds of principle.

Be the spearhead of the revolution. Kill first the lord of the manor then join the rest of the rebels to take out the queen.

How delightful.
 
End of the Revolution

The sorcerous lay defeated at the queens’ feet. They had been here many times before. The queen knew this time would be no different. The sorcerous would escape from the dungeons, bending even the strongest willed to her cause.

The queen knew there was only one way to stop her. A tear rolled down her cheek as she pushed the sword through her sisters’ chest. The battlefield fell silent; the spell over them was broken.
 
Paid in Blood




He squinted against the stinging wind, surveying the bodies of his fallen brethren strewn across the battlefield, a smile on his face.


So many years...so much they had endured...


Theft...rape...murder...

He stared at the blood-soaked form lying crumpled at his feet. It was all because of him.


He squeezed the bulbous mass that had been the tyrant's heart and chuckled.


It was over...but was it worth the cost?
 
What Goes Around Comes Around


A watchmaker sits entranced by the workings of an intricate mechanism. In perfect motion the gears and springs move, hands revolve.

What does he see?

Within the synchronicity of moving time, atoms turn, there electrons circle the nucleus - within this heart protons and neutrons rotate, into the infinitesimal - the imagination - universes are born; galaxies turn within, circumferences marked by stars, around which planets orbit, where a watchmaker sits, staring at moving clockwork.
 
Zero Sum

Revolving at one rpm a revolution simulates my original environment. I was the youngest, now the only.

The last of us. Here in my weightless bubble in the center of humanity.

How brown, burnt, and bruised you look now. All squandered on small-minded, foolish, squabbles. Ideologies of hatred, petty minds, festering on borders, inspiring secrecy, kinetic retribution, and ultimately realization of the zero sum.

Well not quite zero. There’s still me, and I’m only seventy-five.
 
Back Country

We collect absences: of water, crops, of Natalie now she's gone. It was all too much, she said, but she meant it was too little.

There's one day, and it repeats endlessly. Nothing new. Just the silence of a land dying beneath hard skies.

When the clouds come, I'll take Alice outside and we'll spin and spin until the red mud coats our feet and we can't tell rain from tears.

And we'll begin again.
 
noitulover


They set sail on an ill-tempered ocean, the android and the wizard. Star-crossed lovers, exiled by their own.

"No," spoke the council of Mages. "Our two traditions can never bind."

Incompatibility error 1453.23, said the NetMind.

They found a sand-fringed island, a place of their own, where they lay together.

*

When she arrived, they called her Synthesia. Forged of flesh and metal, of spells and circuits, she left the island and united two worlds.
 
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A New Era


“It is time”

“You can not do this; I am your sovereign, chosen by God. My people will not allow it”

“Your people are disposing of you and your excess and perversities, now move “

The guard roughly pushed him from the cell; slowly he was escorted to the executioner, the crowd’s jeers ringing in his ears. Head bowed he failed to notice that tears fell from some, mourning the passing of their king.
[/FONT]
 
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Stop! It’s K-T Time

Deet’s fur bristled. “My whole family again! I just about pop them out before some scaly idiot eats them.”

Sem’s nose twitched sympathetically. “Don’t worry. Mig’s predicted something big for us.”

“Mig’s a loon. Last time it was ‘swathes of ice, covering everything!’”

“No. Something big.”


It struck with a force never felt before. Half the world seemed to rise and fall again. The sky darkened and roiled endlessly.


Sem nodded. “Yep. That’ll do it.”
 
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