Random Story :
An Oath Once Taken
Author: David C. Nutt “As I told you to begin …
Monmoth
Author: Timothy Goss
There is no tyme, no tick tock not no more. Sunny has face an hands, but no tick tock, only slip slop like me own guts. We been waiting an watching, meself an Sunny, waiting days and nites, watching light an dark, waiting for grub from under wood. Sunny says they have shields like steel, like armoured snails an guns to ends us, he says. An they needs them under wood , not like ghost, not like slugs, an not like we, but living Days like nites an nites like death, me an Sunny deserves a feast.
After the big sleep took every other Monmoth’s Pa took the stage an ensured his safe an sound behind old town walls. Me an Sunny have the coast, by stinking seas, where me Pa left me to a turbulant toxic green, he hadn’t seen the state of things we’ve seen – me don’ts blame. Old Monmoth took the sod betwixt this an that from here to there, he offed familial ties an stated crooked dominion; so here we is again looking to feast on Monmoths toast.
Sunny has stalk eyes, got them tuned for moving in the smoke. Sunny says he can fetch me a techarm to replace me own, knows a dealer in the smoke. Got me own arm torn off under woods, mad cows an chimpanzies, red raw with blood rage. Sunny says he’s seen a chimpanzie with me arm, using it to pick It’s arse, he says. We smile, we always smile louder. Me knows Sunny an his sister saw mother dead moons ago, an now sister long gone, so we always smile, me an Sunny.
Before day is darkness we agree the memory of dancing bears is pretend, they like the nites in the glowing green above the sparkling dust – we agrees to forget. It is easy to forget, we forgets it all some days, especially with grub in me gob. Sunny says the God helps us forget, filling water with dreams in sparkling dust. Me thinks the God is seedless an us toys to bend an break. Some nites we hear laughter in the dark an think like men – with grub in me belly everything is rosey. Sunny says the fleet is due soon enough, he smells them, he says. Sunny can smell a rat in a waste farm, an he says they won’t be long. Me belly growls, we knows they won’t venture under wood after dark for long, no matter the snails an guns to ends us. No bugger steals under wood alone, we run palm in palm with blades an arrows obsidian sharp, watch for chimps an mad cows, and the Wild folk who set fires an send smoke to choke the trees.
Sudden brains an warm tingles over us, like old yellow rinsed and rinsed, we be rosy with swollen lion an bellies to ring. Slap Monmoth’s face, raspberry rashes, watch em washed an boiled. Me an Sunny smile, we is echoes at dusk before the snails cough an growl an glow under wood.
Me an Sunny is ready.