*Dancing*
I know how to get from point A to point B And I know how to get there faster I can do it on one wheel, two wheels or more I can do it when B is underwater I can get to point B unseen, silently And when A is many thousand feet higher I can go back and forth, side to side and return All the way and then back to the starter I can reach point B if it’s struggling against me I know what I need to subdue it I can stun it, shock it, disable or kill it I can also leave it there and be done with I can get to point B if it’s moving itself I can grab it, put it down and remind it That space-time is my own, mine to control And you, point, are just living inside it I can travel where light is strained to its limit That, and a Planck magnitude slower I can hop through dimensions, infinity and beyond I can do that and be back home for supper I can explore in many directions at once I don’t let laws of physics constrain me I can take you with me, this is your chance But that’s not why I tell you my story Why don’t you teach me… A new way to move?
Posted in From the Writing Desk, No Category by Eran with 2 comments.
Lahav 1.0b1
הסיפור הראשון של להב, Finite Innocence, הגיע לטיוטה ראשונה. האם יש מתנדבים בקהל? ג.נ. הסיפור הוא באנגלית גבוהה/פאנקית/נוארית ואורכו מזנב את ה-11,000 מילים.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 6 comments.
The Modern Ronin: Perverse
Every human being comes, at one time or another, to a point where he says: “That there is it. That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. If I live until forever runs out, I’ll never catch a glimpse of something more gut-wrenching than this.” Most of those people will turn back and be right in their assumption but some push on and find that point again, and again and again. They’ll find that there is no end to human perversity. I mean, if you go to all the wrong places you can find anything from people fucking horses or the other way around to little girls forced to give it to their daddies in the rear. If you can think about it, someone probably already digitized and uploaded it. If you’re unlucky, you might also find a RealSense recording some really sick bastard made. When I saw her, in the back of that warehouse, riding that chained up man like he was her sweet 16 birthday pony and she was a jack hammer on full auto, I knew I’ve reached one of my points. I probably had to be front row and center in a necro-pedophiliac convention to top that scar on the visual cortex. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary to see a man and a woman enjoying some rough sex. But the added info behind the job really turned that nausea dial all the way up to 12. She wasn’t really a woman but a Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 12 comments.
מחווה לרדיו
ובעקבות ההודעה שלי על הרדיו לפני מספר ימים, הנה שיר קצר שכתבתי. היה זה יום מאוד מזהיר וגם שעה יפה רדיו הפך מצרך נדיר וליחידי סגולה הצבא, המשטרה, אפילו המשביר לקחו את כל התדרים, השאירו מאומה הגיע זמן וסוף היום, נותרה רק מחאה אמרו להם שאין מקום וכבר אין ברירה היו אזרחים ששמחו ויש שעמדו דום כשתדר אחרון הולאם איש אחד בכה האם זה נחמד? האם שווה לקחת רעיונות קצרים וקטנים ולכתוב עליהם שירים ולא סיפורים?
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 2 comments.
The Modern Ronin – Doubles
“Lahav? Lahav, can you hear me?! Answer, damn it!” One of the two walls still left standing in the corner high-rise apartment had another hole punched through it as I was thrown clear. I slid on the floor among the wreckage and burning debris and eventually came to a halt as I bumped into a fallen beam. Rolling onto my side, I tried to stand up. My clothes were dirty with dust and bits of plaster were hanging off. I wiped the blood from my nose and dabbed at the cut on my brow, sending a sharp pain through my cranium. I stood up and held my bruised side then turned around. Some people say that every person in the world has a double, someone else out there, whom you’ll probably never meet, who is your exact duplicate. They look like you and maybe act like you. I think this theory is complete and utter bulldrek. The odds of you existing, instead of some other version, are derived from possible combinations of your parents’ genes. I don’t know the precise numbers but I am sure they number in the billions. And the odds of someone else out there who is exactly like you, even considering the idea your parents went out and fooled around yet again, is that number squared. Those are numbers few humanoids can comprehend, let alone calculate. That is what left me with only one conclusion. “Hey Lahav,” The voice came from the other side of the Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 7 comments.
The Modern Ronin – Least Wanted
“We have to kill him,” Iris said. Lahav just stared blankly at her. He didn’t say anything but it was obvious what he was thinking. For all the time they had worked together, they ran across a multiple of foes, enemies and nemeses. From the drunk and bored all the way up to assassins with a cause and a paycheck. For all that time, Lahav never killed a single one of them. Iris had to do some of it herself but mostly she let it slide. A funny kink for a crook: a murder-phobia. Up until now, it did not matter. He either left guards unconscious, took obstacles out of the way or Iris was there to do the job herself. Now, the target had to die and Lahav will have to do it. He silently took out his weapon and switched to the fourth barrel. “Incendiary,” The female voice spoke softly. He touched the release button and the barrel slid out of its socket and into his hand. He placed it in one of his many pockets and took out a different one. The VaLeSA was a shady and ominous pistol, in contrast to its non-lethal purpose. It was designed for stealth, it was designed for Lahav. All of its accompanying parts were also dark but this one was different. The new barrel was darker and with a reddish tint, as if it was covered with dried blood and burned down with a pulse finish laser. He slid the Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 7 comments.
The Modern Ronin – Strange Markings
She saw him lying on the sofa as she got up in the middle of the night for a glass of warm milk, one hand was over his eyes and the other loosely holding the holster of his weapon, still haphazardly attached to his right thigh. She was wearing a bath robe, he was still in the same clothes he wore when they wrapped up late last night, or early this morning. And they were a jumbled mess around him, probably the results of several tossings and turnings. With one hand on the closed fridge, she pondered this moment. And then she let go and moved towards him. There was one thing she was curious about and perhaps, asleep, he wouldn’t mind if she went nosing about. She drew closer to him and knelt besides the sofa. His shirt was half hiked up his torso as it is, she only needed to nudge it further by a little bit. And there it was, that strange birthmark. On his right waist, and stretching towards his navel, terminating just short of it, was a strange assortment of what, if not a birthmark, looked like a series of strange bruises. On his waist was something circular with an unidentifiable zigzagging shape inside of it. Extending from it was what looked like a misshapen and probably molten wrench and another strange zigzagging pattern. The whole thing looked like the contours of a lilli-pad city or an offshore island severely bent out of shape. That Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 11 comments.
Weaponless: The Outer Jedi
Idiots. If you get so lucky as to take a Jedi by surprise, you don’t just throw him in a cell and hope for the best. You sedate him and keep him unconscious. A conscious Jedi, even hurt, drunk, drugged or dying, is still stronger than most other beings. They didn’t even bother with a complicated manacle. Sometimes I feel insulted.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with comments disabled.
מרכיבים הכרחיים לכתיבה דרמטית… “שירות” – תמונה ראשונה – בועז ואלי
הקטעים מכאן והלאה לא יהיו כבר בהכרח לפי ההנחיות אלא יתחילו לבנות את הסיפור העיקרי שאני רוצה להעביר במסגרת הקורס. זהו סיפור שנקרא “שירות” שכבר נתתי לרמי והוא דחה וזה הניסיון לפתח את הרקע שנתתי לסיפור מלא. מי שלא רוצה לקרוא את זה ככה או בהמשכים רשאי להתעלם. מי שרוצה את זה בצורת סיפור רשאי להתלונן. תמונה ראשונה (הבמה חשוכה חוץ מפינה ימנית. אלי מכניס את ראשו באיטיות לבמה. דלת חורקת.)אלי (בטון קר והחלטי) בועז? בועז, אתה פה? (קליק נשמע ואור נדלק, מעיר קלושות מצד ימין של הבמה. פינה של מיטה שבמרכז הבמה מתגלית ולידה זוג רגליים. אלי, גבר מבוגר, לבוש למשרד, נכנס מצד ימין והחריקה נמשכת ונעלמה. האור מתחזק ומאיר חצי במה. המיטה מבולגנת ועליה יושב בועז, ילד כבן 20 לבוש בחולצה אדומה ומקומטת ובג’ינס משופשפים שמכנס אחד שלהם מוכנס בתוך גרבו. הוא שפוף במיטה ומביט למטה. הוא נראה כמי שישן בבגדיו.)אלי (ממשיך בטון ענייני) בועז? בועז! יאללה, תתאפס על עצמך. יש לנו עוד קבוצה. שטוף את הפנים שלך ורד למטה.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 3 comments.