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What if I didn't Die? - 1
What if I didn't die?
Bright light near blinded her, while the freezing water engulfed her body, dragging it down to the shadows below. Her consciousness was fading, causing momentary hallucinations. The red pieces of metal that floated momentarily before her almost looked like roses. She loved the color red, it could be so beautiful. She could see red liquid mixing with the blue looking water. She was bleeding, and from the amount of blood in the water, she must have suffered an large injury. Air. She was running out of air. She hadn't really been afraid at the time, but now, fear gripped her like the hold of death,
The sound of waves, washing up, upon the shore filled the air. The body of a woman was lying upon the shore, her orangish pink, dress shirt torn and stained with blood, while her red, tight skirt with shorts underneath were ruined. She was soaking wet, and had a large gash on her stomach. Pi
A New Perspective Episode 6
Episode 6 - If All Else Fails, Use Explosives
Racing to the edge of the river, Shattered Dream watched as the cargo boat took off. He had to get to it no matter what.
“Looks like we’re going to have to do this the hard way” the man piloting Shattered Dream said with a deep voice as he put on sun glasses. Things just got serious
Stabilizers out, the Ion boosters roared into life, kicking up the dust that lined the river. The pilot skillfully maneuvered Shattered Dream around the cargo trucks, Gustavs and other transport Zoids as they sped along the river. There was no way that boat was escaping from them any time soon.
“ There it is” the pilot announced unnecessarily. It was obvious enough, without him pointing it out. “ Get ready Dark Liger!” As if on cue, Shattered Dream parted his jaws, and roared, pushing himself to run faster after the target.
There- a ramp. Shattered Dream felt a sense of awesomeness wash over hi
A New Perspective Episode 4
Episode 4 – Something Not Quite Right Here
“Shattered Dream!” A voice echoed quietly.
“Shattered Dream!” It was steadily getting louder. “Shattered Dream, wake up!”
“Wha…? “ Milo said, barley able to remember his name. The memories floated, lost inside his head, blurry and deformed. His thoughts were scattered and jumbled up, he could barely think. There was a throbbing pain, similar to a head ache, but somewhere in his neck. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where, but then again, his brain was barely capable of doing anything at the moment
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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