Tag: fiction

Housekeeping.

G. Derek AdamsLeave a comment

And, there’s the last chunk of Another Story.  I hope you’ve enjoyed it, or at least it hasn’t caused your eyeballs to spontaneously implode.

I’ve collected the entire story into one tidy page, accessible from the Short Stories dropdown menu up top. Thanks to the kind comments, and one sharp-eyed editor I’ve corrected some tense issue – making the tale a bit more palatable. I’ve been a writer a long time, even working a brief stint as an English teacher — so I always welcome constructive criticism. I’m a big boy, I can take it. I crave feedback.

Tomorrow, I’ve queued up a bit of micro-fiction, The Parable of the Stone Viper. I actually entered that one into a contest on Lulu.com, and it’s available as a free epub if that’s your fancy.

The next few weeks are very hectic for me, so I have a large amount of old material queued up. Most of it is scenes from a much longer piece, just so I don’t wear you out – and push you into TLDR-land.  Let me know if you see a scene or a character you like, and I’ll try to oblige you with some more targeted content.

What’s keeping me so busy? SECRET PROJECT.

[It is totally secret.]

Another Story X

G. Derek AdamsLeave a comment

X.
The rain pounded onto the squire’s head. Reflexively, he pulled up his hood.

He had come home against all advice. Ignoring the words of his fellows, his knight, and his lord he had stolen away in the night. Stolen away with a stolen sword.

It was his master’s second-best sword.

Thinking, It can’t be as bad as the tales say. Gilead is my home — surely my father and sister survived the..the darkness, his path had brought him here.

And now, past rain and blood, past the grasp of the dead, and the mad words of a blind priest, he was home. Jonas peered up through the rain at the moon. He’d been in town only an hour or two. Such a short time.

It wasn’t too late to leave. Keeping his wits about him, he could easily avoid the once-men as before and make his way out of town. The green light in the keep’s windows leered at him.

No. It was too late. The shadow on Gilead has marked him, there was no turning back.

Jonas cupped his hand and caught rain water. He briskly scrubbed the blood from his cloak, face and hands. The words of the blank-faced priest were not cleansed as easily.
The squire stood, and sheathed the sword. I must find some place dry, and give it a proper cleaning, or it will rust.

The rain began to ease, as Jonas moved across the balcony towards a nearby rooftop. A short jump, and he was across. His answers were in the keep, and he intended to have them.

End Chapter