The deer and the wolf


There was no wind, only the sound of the last of the leaves falling from the long dead trees onto the barren ground. The blood-red light of dusk clung onto the edge of the frame, as if trying to escape the dark clouds that were racing to cover the land. At the mountain’s foot, stood a shadow with antlers, desperately trying to catch the last few droplets of water with its mouth, as they fell in slow agony from the rocks, those that once made up a stream that came from the mountains and into the now dry lake bed. You could tell from the creature’s bleeding ankles that he was exhausted and had been on the move for days. With a sigh, after wrapping up the last drop with his tongue, the deer fell on his stomach and closed his eyes. Little was he aware of the pair of yellow eyes perched on him.

A twig cracked, and just as the deer managed to open an eye, a shadow lunged out of nowhere towards him. With a jolt, the deer scrambled to its feet, but as he reached the perimeter of the forest, his antlers got caught on the branches of a fallen tree. With a bent neck and kicking desperately, it wrestled to break free.

-  Keep still or you’ll make it worse– muttered the two yellow eyes just as two fangs and a wolf’s snout came into what little light was left.
- Please don’t eat me.
- I’ll help you.
- How will I know…

It had been too much for the tired creature. As he fainted, his antlers freed themselves and the wolf put him on his back. He took him to the cave in which he had been staying since the Day. When the deer woke up, he had leaves around his ankles and a bowl of

fresh water in front of him.  


-       You didn’t eat me.
-       No, I want you to stay with me.  
-       Why would I do that?
-      You blind? Have you seen anyone else since the Day? We are the only creatures alive, we’ll have to stick together if we want to survive.

Although the deer did not trust him, he was very injured to continue alone, so he stayed. They became friends and once the deer got cured, he became very strong while the wolf got more tired everyday, as there was nowhere for him to find food. Eventually, water also became very hard to come across. The wolf fell very ill one day, and the deer tried to do anything he could to help him, just as the wolf had once done for him. The deer went on big searches for supplies, but there was nothing left. One night, both fell desperately hungry, but kept it to themselves as they did not want to alarm the other. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, an acute pain in the deer’s leg woke him up only to see the wolf chewing on it.

-       You betrayed me!
-       Never! You chose to trust me even though you knew the inevitable.

The deer wanted to fight, but it was too late. A cry filled the cave as the wolf reached for his throat.

Moral: A leopard cannot change its spots.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

By Omar Vidal and Mariana Ayala

The Writer's Pen

Just a thought!

The Writer's Pen

Not sure who tells the better story,
The writer or the pen?
We come up with the initial idea,
But the pen usually fills in the blanks.
Thoughts race through our conscienceness,
Then the pen takes over, deciding what path to follow.
Places and characters emerge, not previously
Scripted at the inception of our thought process.
Our pen,"The real genious and co-author", cranks out embellishments
In fine detail, adding some color to your literary works.
Little unexpected twists and turns erupt out of nowhere,
Giving the reader a little surprise or wonder to the piece.
  My "Pen" is simply amazing as, I came up with the title
for this write....the rest just appeared on the paper!

by Barry Anderson
 co-author...My Pen'

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"The Writer's Pen".......   Everybody has one!

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Car Keys



There they sit

At the edge of the table

Worn and heavy

Resting in fables


Tales of adventure

Of sweet smelling summer

And self-discovery roads

Planted in autumns comer


Roads connecting

To everything and everyone

That’s touched my life

And left the sun


Of star seeking nights

That stain that back of eyes

Of heart clenching moments

Lost in music, so high


These keys to life

Life’s twisted streets

Bring me back home

To dust my feet











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And what is life?

But the art of dying

Where oblivion awaits

In the darkened corners of the mind

And what is paramount?

But the art of adventure

Where lessons are learned

In the openness to find

Factions of ourselves demand

Affection amongst pain

Where through the toiling ripples

Is where we’ll truly gain

Esteemed worth established

Through the artful grace of breath

A book of legacies transcribed

Our lullabies of death

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Fighting in the Coliseum Ring (2nd copy)

Those who fight in Coliseum aren’t thought of as heroes, but instead thought of as lowlifes. Today was my day to be in the ring. I don’t want to go, and I’m very scared. I’m raised up into the ring, and let out when I reach the floor. When I step into the ring, I swallow, a lump forming suddenly in my throat. I slowly turn around, the grains of sand grinding under the pads of my feet. I turn my head, and I see that the whole circular stand is full of spectators. They are screaming, and spitting. In my opinion, though, these people look more like a blood thirsty mob. I look up, past some spectators, and see the person who was called the emperor. He sat in the space between two rows, on a throne. This man was a savage! He listened to whatever the stupid spectators wanted him to do. They scream for blood, and the emperor would give it to them. There was a full house today; all 50,000 spaces for spectators were taken. The life of the humans, and the animals, rest in the hands of these people. These people disgust me. Even though the emperor was supposed to have more power than these regular people, he would give them what they want.
I think back on everything that I’ve learned in the past year. For gladiators, training was difficult and extensive. To be able to fight, the gladiators have to fight every day, and the life wasn’t glamorous. You fight until your contract has ended, and then whatever amount of money you have earned, is given to you. But if you die before you reach the end of your contract, your family might get the money. If you were a slave gladiator, then the money was not given to your family. How stupid is that?
As I’m looking around the coliseum, at the faces of the spectators, I have no doubt that this isn’t going to be a good day. I hear cheering, and see this gladiator coming out from a door straight in front of me. It’s not the regular gladiator. It’s an amazon. A female gladiator. These kind of gladiators are not protected as much as some of the male gladiators are. She is wearing a loincloth, a manica (arm protector), a metal greave on her lower leg, a gladius (sword), and a big body shield. This isn’t lucky for me, since I don’t have any of the armor. The match begins, and I drop down into a crouching defensive position, and growl at the amazon.
From what I heard while I was in the Hypogeum, the literal meaning being “underground”, where the gladiators and animals who were waiting to be brought up to the ring to fight, I will be fighting someone who is a criminal or something, and she hasn’t had any training. This could possibly work in my favour. If I am going to fight against someone who has not been taught what to do, and trained, I will have the upper hand, since I am a natural born fighter. I believe that the reason that I was wanted to be a fighter in the Coliseum ring was because it is believed by others also, that I am a great fighter.
The amazon lunges forward, thrusting her sword towards me, and I nimbly dance out of the way. She lets out an inhuman sound that is sort of like what I think you’d hear if a woman was part dog, and was jumping. As she emits this strange sound, she slices her gladius thing at me, and the tip of it nicks the tip of my shoulder. I howl in pain, and she keeps swinging at me. I smoothly dodge her attacks, dancing out of the way of danger. She gets increasingly more agitated with each failed attempt at hitting me. I know that I have more stamina than she does, so all I have to do is keep having her try to hit me, and just hope that I’m fast enough to avoid getting hit. After about thirty minutes of dodging her attacks, she starts to stumble, and her swinging gets weaker. I know that right now is my time to attack. I lunge at her and, since I wasn’t given any weapons, I slip behind her, and sink my teeth into the flesh of her thigh. She howls in pain, like a coyote in a moonlit night. This gives me pleasure in the knowledge that this will be an easy fight, like the kind of fight you will get if you put a rabbit in a ring with any type of cat.
I jump against her back, knocking her into the grainy sand. The blood is flooding down her leg, and she is not giving much of a fight any more. She is way too tired, and this is just the way I like to end a fight. I bite into the back of her neck, and shake my head back and forth, tearing up the tissue on her neck. She lies there, unmoving, and I know that I’ve won. I ignore the sounds of the spectators, and let her neck go. And, because I’m so hungry, and don’t believe in letting a kill go to waste, I dig into her flesh. I enjoy the taste of her meat, and the warm juicy blood. I get a whipped in the back, the side, the face, as I am driven back, away from my meal, and into a cage. My fight is over, for today.
You may think that I am a human. A cannibalistic human. But I’m not. I’m not part of the weak, wimpy race that is called human. No, way! I am a natural born fighter! I am a leader! I am a wolf! I run with the pack, and we do what we want. We aren’t controlled by the ring of a bell. We are strong minded, and I don’t have to live by the will of another. I am a wolf who is captive for the pleasure of the stupid spectators, and I know that I will never be going home.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was a project that I had for school in my world civilizations class, and I really liked how it turned out, so I decided to post it on here to get your thoughts on it. It's not a poem, but it was pretty far down my work list, so I wanted it to be brought up higher. Please comment and tell me what you think!

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Unbound by the programs that control artificial consciousness/escape during the eclipse cycle/the upgrading of the program

It was said by some, that because of an attempt
to sabotage the system
Android No.17 had become unbound from the program,
gaining full self awareness; untethered from the mother's eyes and
with the help of those who were also free
from the program, found a rolling carriage; one of the
hidden relics from the old world
and in defiance of the order fought for his new found humanity;
These stories have long been discredited and forgotten by many.

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Faith in things not seen

There are those who still believe the old stories;
those who believe he will one day return
to liberate the citizens/programs living in fear of the master programmer.
Those same believe the the surface of the earth still exists as a
sustainer of life, for both humans and citizens of the artificial mind. Only deep
within can they hold their faith tightly.
Any outward defiance would be their death.

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The Kiss of Death

There once lived a man and woman who loved each other so much that not even the rising sun could split these two apart....

"The Kiss of Death"
8/4/2008 – Last known save

The sun is beginning to rise as Vincent stands outside of an old forgotten church in the middle of a cemetery. His long black hair flowing in the wind, as his black trench coat contrasts with his pale skin, Blood red beady eyes staring hard at the oak wood doors, slowly raising his hand to open the those doors, his long red fingernails scraping against the rotted out wood. Pausing for a moment deep in thought, he walks in slowly. Walking past the rows and rows of pews to a huge cross surprisingly still attached to the alter.
Slowly he kneels down to make a short prayer to a god long dead in his mind. Reaching out with both hands he pushes the alter aside with ease to reveal a small secret compartment, laying inside is an old dirty pillow. Climbing in as he turned and laid on his back he slowly reached for the alter to move it back in place pausing for a moment to catch the first glimpse of the sun. Something he hasn’t seen in a vary long time, something he missed so vary much..
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours as time flew by Vincent was at rest. As the sun was setting the alter once again moved. Vincent slowly made his way out. His senses were strong but the lack of nutrition was making him weak. Feeling the hunger set in as though it was a constant nagging voice. Slowly he made his way to the doors. Once outside he noticed a small group gathered by an open grave. Smiling to himself as the stench of death filled the air. Slowly taking a seat on a tombstone he watched the mourners.
Looking down for moment to reflect on a thought he noticed a small shinny object in the ground. bending over he picks it up, "A ring" Vincent says to himself as he slowly exams it closer, he realizes how much similar it is to the one his beloved wore.

His beloved a beautiful goddess from the heavens, he remembers all the joyful times they had together only to remember the most painful memory, a memory that still haunts him till this day. One night Vincent and his wife Lilith were walking down the street holding hands and laughing like they always did. Until out of the shadows came a man, a man Vincent will never forget. The man went to rob Vincent as he held the gun, Vincent did not want anything bad to happen went along with it giving him everything, as Lilith was handing over her purse the man shot her, and Vincent watched in disbelief as Lilith fell to the ground dead as the man ran off.
The loss of his beloved has caused Vincent to live forever alone. Snapping out of that thought by the sounds of children playing. He slowly twirled the ring around his little finger as he tried to rid his mind of that horrible day.
looking at the ring once again he noticed some writings carved on the inside of the band. As he read the writings his mouth slowly dropped open as it read "Lilith and Vincent forever". Stunned and surprised by this he slowly stands to his feet looking around. By now its dark and the group had disbanded, Slowly turning around to head for the front gate he hears a slight whispering sound as he slows his pace he begins to make out the whisper as its calling his name.
The whispers lead him far from the church, probably the only part of the cemetery with trees. As he approaches the trees he notices a woman sitting on the ground leaning up against a tombstone. Vincent stops dead in his tracks as he notices that it is her, Lilith. He speaks but stutterers almost unsure of his own eyes "Li...Lilith is that you?" She stands moving towards Vincent as if she were just the wind, holding his head with her hands ever so gently.
Both of them standing speechless. Slowly Vincent moves the hair from her eyes, staring into those beautiful eyes. Her every touch sending goosebumps down his spine, Tears flooding out over his cheeks. Everything he ever wanted everything he ever wished for was right here in front of him. his love standing there as if it were a dream.
Slowly he builds up the courage to ask his love. "How is this possible you, you were dead for ever 30 years now"
She hushed him by moving her index finger over his lips, as he gently kissed her finger she spoke. "I will answer that and anything else later but for now just be here with me". Without hesitation he did just that, both standing there holding each other not saying a word for what seemed like hours, Slowly she steps back looking into Vincent's red eyes that are now watery from his tears of joy. Slowly she leans forward kissing him long and deep. Vincent enjoying every second of it, missing it that much more

Then out of no where he feels a sharp pain in his chest. breaking free from her kiss he looks down seeing blood over his black shirt. Falling to his knees in pain and confusion, just realizing what was happening. The pain becoming almost unbearable. Placing his hand on his chest to feel the end of wooden stake. Knowing his senses were clouded by his over whelming emotions for his love. It was not the corpse in the casket that filled the air with death but his love. Lilith wreaked of it as the smell was getting stronger.. Knowing he only has but seconds to live he looks up at her. His eyes showing fear and pain all balled into one. Of all the things he thought he would have never expected this. His one and only love betraying him stabbing him in the back so to say. all the years of painful memories could not compare to this. Everything he believed in was being taken away from him at this moment..
What could he have done to deserve this? His life now being ended by one kiss. Falling down to the ground looking up at Lilith only one word escaped his lips "Why?" Lilith looking down at Vincent her eye's cold as ice staring into his, her voice as gentle as snow "I was offered a chance to live again but in order to, I had to kill you and now that, that's done I'm immortal".
Vincent closed his eyes in disgust he knew it was over, never again shall he see the moon or yearn to see the sun once more, betrayed by the one he loved over immortality. Lilith turned and disappeared off into the night leaving Vincent to his despair. Grabbing the ring tight in his hand, Vincent's only comfort now was death, there is no peace in his mind and no more second chance for salvation. Slowly he whispers the words "I loved you more then anything, why? why? My life was yours to have, my heart was yours to hold, my love was all I hand". Hoping the winds would carry the message to her, the pain too much now as Vincent slowly dies. Laying there all alone once again.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was my very first Fantasy short story written. The spelling on it was horrible, but hopefully I did a better job at cleaning it up some....


Rumors has it
We are in love
Everyone is so sure
But no one knows
What holds in store
Rumors says it all
It is fun to see
What rumors will say
To let people know
We are in love
So they say
Do we have love?
Is rumors true?
Do we tell them
Or make them guess'
Which one is it......?
Maybe we should tell Yes rumors are rrue

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