Algai 'd' Aman's Stories

I still held her hand

2008-08-25T07:05:29Z

I wished for days long gone with every hour that passed. All I could do was hold her hand.

Her raspy breathing quickened as she awoke again, interrupted by an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. “Is that – you – sugarplum?” Each word exhaled separately. My chest burned with the memory that I had always been embarrassed when she called me that. A name I would now gladly go by.

My eyes stung as they quickly welled with tears. “Yes mom.” I answered stroking her matted hair. I was surprised that my voice didn’t quiver.

“I love you.” I told her meaning it with every drop of life in my heart, and squeezed her small hand in mine. I smiled a fake, smile not knowing if she heard or even understood, but I needed to appear strong to help ease our pain.

She smiled that smile at me, her eyes knowing, then faded away. For an eternal minute, she gasped for every breath, shuddering painfully. A calmness now washed over her; the fight was finally over. A battle lost.

I still held her hand. She was all that I had left.

The Other Guy

2008-08-20T08:46:01Z

I’m not the guy that got killed while dutifully at work.

I’m not the guy that got shot trying to defend his place of employ from robbery.

I’m not the guy that drove the getaway car for the service station robbery little over a decade ago. What a mess that was; all over the news . . . blood everywhere.

I’m also not the guy that got busted by the cops shortly thereafter, which in turn, and conveniently so, makes me the guy who isn’t awaiting execution tomorrow night.

You see, I’m the guy sitting on a beach, typing up this little “incriminating” story.

Worried? No. Not me. I’m not the guy that frets endlessly. I’m the exception to the rule. I’m the guy for whom crime pays. The one who gets away with murder, figuratively, as well as literally.

How? Well you see, I’m also the guy who now, after having amassed a very large sum of ill gotten gains, can pay for the blind eye of justice to look the other way.

Why? I’m the guy the world needs. I provide balance. A necessary evil if you will. Sleep well. I do.

It's related to foot-in-mouth disease . . .

2008-01-05T03:52:29Z

. . . but you wont get anywhere with that attitude missy!”

Tom had the upper hand. He was hardly ever in this position. Shelly glared at him with a look that he was all too familiar with. But he was safe . . for now. He was condemned to pain, but had to relish in the moment.

“Tell you what Tom. I’m willing to give you total amnesty here. I’ll completely forget about the last five minutes. ALL OF IT !” The way his wife smiled made him suspicious of her wording.

“Shelly, Shelly, Shelly. That’s a crap deal for me. How about breakfast in bed for a week, that’s totally fair.”

Ten seconds passed as they stared at each other in silence. Tom lost his confidence as he sobered from his short lived power trip. A bead of sweat formed on his brow and trickled down his cheek as he re-considered.

“You amnesty offer still stand?” His voice now void of bass and shaky.

“Yeah . . sure.” She said nonchalantly.

He applied the vegetable oil, and helped her out of the porcelain throne vowing to lower the seat from now on.

Algai 'D' Aman: A Philosophical Exploration of the Pen Name That I have learned to live with

2008-01-03T02:00:09Z

A long time ago, sometime last century, I found myself in the computer lab trying desperately to sign up for a hotmail account. All of the names that I could think of were taken, and I didn’t want to settle on my name with numbers behind it. Not that there is anything wrong with that in itself.

It just so happened to be the summer of ‘96 which means that I had just gotten done reading Robert Jordan’s (RIP) Lord of Chaos.

So after having spent close to an hour trying to decide on a screen name, and urgently needing to make it to my next class, I whipped out the Old Tongue dictionary, and found some really interesting words. Ta’varen, Algai ‘d’ Siswai, Car’a’carn, and so on.

I picked the first part of Algai ‘d’ Siswai Spear fighters, and the last part os Siswai’ aman Spears of the dragon, used the appropriate connector ‘d’ and there I had it.

A screen name that was sure to be all mine.

BTW I signed up for my hotmail account and made it to class in time. I even managed to fulfill my need for ficlet nirvana.

Secrets

2007-12-25T21:57:28Z

They always tell me everything. Their innermost secrets. Usually I smile, listen, nod, offer the occasional ugh, eww, ahh, and wow.

I’m not sure when this all started, but most everyone that I know or associate with instantly feels comfortable enough to reveal their darkness to me.

I would never divulge these secrets except perhaps in a fictional ficlet. Call it amatuer courtesy, but I still bear the burden of knowing.

I guess some would say it’s a blessing, but after a while it gets depressing. I mean, I know everything about everyone of my friends and co-workers. They know nothing about me. Not the real stuff anyway. The down and dirty me. Sometimes I feel fake, but the feeling fades fast. I wash my hands and continue eating my lunch.

So I’m confessing to you my fellow ficlet friends, yet not really revealing anything about myself quite yet. This is my sanctuary. This is my holy place. This is my secret hideout where I can be me when I’m good and ready.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. Thanks for listening.

Zwei pfund Schweizer

2007-12-24T19:23:42Z

Joseph had volunteered to relocate when his company needed a temporary presence in Frankfurt. He had grown up nearby, and thought it would be fun to visit the small village on the Rhein only a half an hour away.

He stood in line at a local bakery with the familliar smells bringing back forgotten memories. The church bells tolled in the distance indicating that it was now a quarter of an hour passed three O’clock.

“Immer mehr und mehr neger . . . es wird immer schlimmer!” An old woman said to her friend in a thick and raspy Hesse dialect. Everyone acted as if they hadn’t heard what she said. Mostly not wanting to associate themselves with that statement.

“Können sie sich bitte widerholen? Ich hatte was verrücktes im ohr.” He said in reply, smiling at the old woman.

She looked into his eyes; her face turned red realizing that he understood what she had said. There were a few chuckles from the other patrons.

“Sowas iss ja Un-Er-Hört!” the old woman said so obviously embarrased, and left the store.

Lessons Forgotten

2007-12-23T21:43:22Z

We were the seventh generation of survivors. Nothing that our grandparents taught us was of any importance to us anymore. Hitler, Zombies, Warewolves; They were all just boogiemen to us.

There were always the crazy kooks that ran around the town warning us to stay on the paths, and to avoid the white zones, but they were usually in it for the monetary benefit. Everything they said was to their benefit. “Don’t eat the beef from xyz’s farm!”. Meanwhile their friend’s farms got all of the business.

Whatever. I mean who were they to tell us where we could and could not go. They were probably just hiding something out there anyway to keep us in the ignorant and in the dark.

It was our generation that raised our kids to be careless enough to completely disregard the warnings and be “free minded” individuals. To hell with all of their rules.

Plus, there hadn’t been a report of the walking dead in almost two hundred years.

Some of the earliest survival manuals warned that just one zombie could spark a new wave.

It's go time (Minimum Length Challenge)

2007-12-23T17:34:42Z

Either way, you’ve made the decision. There’s no going back now.

Cause of Death: Unconfirmed

2007-12-23T17:25:49Z

Luckily no one could detect the poison he had recently injested.

The Bastard

2007-12-23T05:23:11Z

A tear dripped from her nose onto the rug. He left her for dead.

Exact minimum length ficlet [And the winner is . .]

2007-12-23T05:13:31Z

Write a 64 character ficlet that is captivating and imaginative.

And the winner is . . .

WOW the 1st got here really fast – Happy New Year!

I’d pick 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place respectively (see below) but thought it would be interesting to let you vote for final placement of the “finalists”

Vote with your comments for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place
Voting deadline is Midnight PST

- Watch the World Burn by Saint Chuck – http://ficlets.com/stories/16693

- Future Field Trip With Billy Jo Bud To The Genetic Mutation Farm by Jenunique – http://ficlets.com/stories/16624

- Something Extra (Mature) by Howie Amourscow – http://ficlets.com/stories/16565

Fountain of Youth

2007-12-20T02:14:43Z

The teleporter failed again . . . I thought.

This time we were careless. I didn’t pay attention to detail. Alice didn’t think to double check my calculations.

Of course, this time I stumbled upon something profound.

The test subject didn’t leave the initial chamber. I noticed Wally sitting in the confines of ‘Chamber A’ without a care in the world. He seemed a bit bigger than before. The tests later that night would show that he was twenty percent bigger and heavier, and roughly twentyone weeks older.

Needless to say we were more than surprised when the NSA came knocking and asking questions about our knowledge and unauthorized creation of class B wormholes.

You see our research was more on the side of class A wormholes, but the ones that we had inadvertently created looped back in on themselves taking on the appearance of seven disconnected sideways eights or infinity symbols if you will.

That’s what the Q foam impression told us. The loops seemed separate from each other, but were somehow connected.

Z prepared

2007-12-18T23:08:19Z

I finished reading World War Z about a week and a half ago. Boy was I paranoid.

I couldn’t leave to go to work in the morning (you know those dark winter mornings) without first scoping out the surrounding area as well as behind the house and inside my car. Days went by and my fear didn’t subside which was really odd.

It always seemed so eerily quiet especially when snow covered the ground as was the case last Friday. I left the house and as usual checked around the corner. That’s when I heard a scraping shuffling sound. I just knew my wife had to be playing a mean trick on me. When I turned, I saw this “guy” walking toward me dragging his leg in the snow behind him.

I stood there for about two seconds like a deer caught in the headlights before I saw his eye hanging from the socket. I finally snapped out of it. I went to the back garage door and got my large ax.

As I came out, two more were headed for me from the drainage easement out back. I thanked the heavens that they weren’t the fast zombies.

Be fruitful and multiply - part 2

2007-11-24T20:01:44Z

Mose set off to elevate the bipeds.

It was at that time that John realized that his time machine had further malfunctioned. Instead of examining future events as was his job, (in part to prevent disasters from becoming catastrophes) he was hurled a few centuries into the past.

He followed the Mose character to see what would happen next.

Mose transported to one of the sites that would be used to collect the harvest. The properly aligned pyramids would allow for the optimal collection. More beasts, more spirits. This was the essence of life.

He set out to meet the newly elevated creatures. “Behold” he spoke to them.They understood. “I am Moses. I will lead you away from slavery. Follow me or continue suffering.” They left at once neither knowing that they had been suffering, nor knowing that they had been enslaved. They gathered all they could carry, and set out to follow Mose toward the mountains.

The council saw, and wondered what Mose was up to. 400,000 for the taking, disappearing into the wilderness.

Pieces of a man

2007-11-13T13:23:25Z

Once, I was whole.

I was a provider. I loved, I laughed, and I cared.

Once, I was a man.

I go through the motions, as though blind.
My heart has grown numb.
Rash and foolish man.

I have forgotten what it means to love, to laugh, to care.

I look back at a time. A time long since past. I stand motionless for a while, then move on.

My direction is gone and my beliefs have been pried from my hands by a breeze. Passion is a stranger; my fire has died. My dreams are no more. Nothing is left of that which made me a man.

I “live” a “life” of routine. Each day as predictable and as insipid as the last.

I have one piece left that I clench.
It wont let me end the suffering. The pain that is seated deep in my core is kept fresh. Somehow, I must continue to pay for my sins.