Old Jed took another big gulp out of his canteen. Bloody hell but the sun was exceptionally hot today.
"I’m too old for this crap", he told himself and couldn’t help but laugh at the cliché he had become. His pappy should’ve seen him now – a bounty hunter, who would have thought?
Jed shifted his weight in the saddle; it felt like he was glued to the damn thing. His horse seemed unabated by the heat and he was thankful that he was good enough at what he did to afford this type of breed.
Christ almighty, he should’ve gotten himself a sombrero. His ten gallon hat did it’s best to keep him from melting away in the desert sun but the more shade the better, even if he’d look silly.
He had been on a horse’s back for the majority of his adult life, always bounty hunting. It’s been an interesting life with lots of places to see and fascinating things to experience but he was indeed getting too old for this, cliché or not.
Just this one, then he’d quit. The bounty for this catch combined with his savings would be enough for him to retire.
"To somewhere cool", he muttered under his breath.
"Oh well", he said louder, to no-one in particular, "time to get the show on the road".
Jed turned his horse around and rode through the time-space wormhole, hot on the heels of the refuge energy vortex that he’d been tracking across twelve planets.
"Just this one."
Thursday, June 22
Tuesday, June 13
Out of sight, out of mind
It had been unusually cold. Not that it had mattered much, there had been enough clothing provided to keep warm and the marching – the endless marching was something you got accustomed to rather quickly – did its part in keeping you warm.
Still, it was unusual.
All this marching meant you had time to reflect on all the little things and nuances in life that otherwise would have been drowned out by all the noise that accompanied any modern lifestyle.
Looking back, not seeing what went on would have been a better option.
After three eerily cold nights and chilly days – despite the sun shining bright from a clear and uncluttered sky – there was no denying that something was wrong.
Besides the strangely cold weather there was a creeping sensation that someone, or something, was following in our tracks.
At the dawn of the fourth day things took a turn for the worse.
It was as if the very friends you had traveled with for so long, people you knew and trusted, was consumed by the shadows as soon as you didn’t look straight at them. It was especially disturbing when you saw them in the corner of your eye.
They would flutter in and out of existence like a candle desperately trying to stay lit despite there being no wax left to fuel the flame, fear and agony all too well visible in their eyes.
Watching their presence shift between the known, conscious world and something otherworldly surreal clawed away at your sanity.
"What happens to them when I turn my back? Where do they go, what do they become?"
You grow used to always having someone watching you, no matter what you do.
Those of us that could not handle the uncertainty, those that willingly disappeared from out of sight, has not come back to share what fate has befallen them. We never expected them to.
I am growing old and tired, but not as old and tired as my friends.
I am uncertain of what is best; to make sure I do not face whatever unholy evil that exist in the gap between seen and unseen by taking matters in my own hands or wait for everyone else to die and see what awaits me.
As for now, I wait.
Still, it was unusual.
All this marching meant you had time to reflect on all the little things and nuances in life that otherwise would have been drowned out by all the noise that accompanied any modern lifestyle.
Looking back, not seeing what went on would have been a better option.
After three eerily cold nights and chilly days – despite the sun shining bright from a clear and uncluttered sky – there was no denying that something was wrong.
Besides the strangely cold weather there was a creeping sensation that someone, or something, was following in our tracks.
At the dawn of the fourth day things took a turn for the worse.
It was as if the very friends you had traveled with for so long, people you knew and trusted, was consumed by the shadows as soon as you didn’t look straight at them. It was especially disturbing when you saw them in the corner of your eye.
They would flutter in and out of existence like a candle desperately trying to stay lit despite there being no wax left to fuel the flame, fear and agony all too well visible in their eyes.
Watching their presence shift between the known, conscious world and something otherworldly surreal clawed away at your sanity.
"What happens to them when I turn my back? Where do they go, what do they become?"
You grow used to always having someone watching you, no matter what you do.
Those of us that could not handle the uncertainty, those that willingly disappeared from out of sight, has not come back to share what fate has befallen them. We never expected them to.
I am growing old and tired, but not as old and tired as my friends.
I am uncertain of what is best; to make sure I do not face whatever unholy evil that exist in the gap between seen and unseen by taking matters in my own hands or wait for everyone else to die and see what awaits me.
As for now, I wait.
Monday, May 29
A short welcome
I really have too many blogs. Despite this I still lack one where I can be as creative as I want, thus the birth of this one.
I was inspired by Pulp Decameron to take the actual plunge.
I do not intend to compare this blog with what Philip is doing as he has actual knowledge about his genres and how to write. I am hoping that I will be able to express myself and some of the ideas I have swirling about in my mind.
Another reason for this blog is to expand my knowledge of the english language. English is not my mother tongue although I have read and spoken it for over twenty years now.
I am a big fan of Lovecraft and I am currently reading Peter F. Hamiltons Night's Dawn trilogy, just so you know why I might throw in the odd awkward word or two -- hopefully using it properly as well. Feel free to correct me if I don't.
Any "behind the scenes" information will be posted in the comments.
I was inspired by Pulp Decameron to take the actual plunge.
I do not intend to compare this blog with what Philip is doing as he has actual knowledge about his genres and how to write. I am hoping that I will be able to express myself and some of the ideas I have swirling about in my mind.
Another reason for this blog is to expand my knowledge of the english language. English is not my mother tongue although I have read and spoken it for over twenty years now.
I am a big fan of Lovecraft and I am currently reading Peter F. Hamiltons Night's Dawn trilogy, just so you know why I might throw in the odd awkward word or two -- hopefully using it properly as well. Feel free to correct me if I don't.
Any "behind the scenes" information will be posted in the comments.
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