Kajj walked silently beside the Speaker’s procession, one hand lingering upon the trolley that carried the body down the hall, wheels clacking rhythmically against the tiles as they moved. Grim faces ringed the trolly, familiar and clad in the traditional Motherguard orange — Members of the Speaker’s warren, along with Mechanic Wess and Treasurer Kahna….
Category: Writing
My writings, shared for your amusement.
No. 05: Pinned Down | “It’s broken.”
Wherever the young Motherguards ran, laughter followed. It wasn’t uncommon to catch the two of them at play in their off hours, chasing one another through Mother’s gardens, darting beneath the spray of the automatic waterers, weaving between the legs of their older cohort members. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely fitting of their station, but it…
No. 04: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”“You in there?”
The man who arrived back upon the *Rapier* was not her Elder. He never was. Not at first, anyway. He certainly looked like her Elder, tall and pale and battle worn, and he was wearing her Elder’s power armor. But his eyes were empty, distant, and cold — not at all the warm and laughing…
No. 03: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”Solitary Confinement
The banner nearly crumbled to dust in Kajj’s hand as he pulled it down from the walls of the banquet hall, the once vibrant orange colors turned a dull brown through the passing of the years. He could still make out the rich embroidery that had once glittered so cheerfully upon the walls, serving to…
No. 02: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”Thermometer | Delirium | “They don’t care about you.”
The world was burning. So hot, he could barely breathe. Kajj leaned heavily against the console of his ship, feeling the hot prickle of sweat as it slid down between his shoulder blades, blood throbbing within his limbs. His vision was… softer around the edges. Flickering, almost shimmering with the thrum of his pulse. It…
No. 01: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
She always looked so beautiful when she danced. Of course, she looked beautiful anyway, always, his memory capturing her in a thousand tiny moments — the delicate movements of her long, elegant fingers as she rolled out the bandages; the soft lilt of her voice as she comforted a patient; the warm, gentle slide of…