General Discussions

For Keeps

POSTED BY: Supertoaster2
UPDATED: Friday, June 12, 2009 00:30
VIEWED: 9053
PAGE 4 of 4

Wednesday, April 5, 2006 9:27 PM

Book

Like the past he is a ghost as in life, as in death. He haunts the ship with his memories, and his saying, jokes, and laughter.

Great men are empty for they give so much of themselves back to the Universe, like a whistle in the wind, you can't hear it with your ear, but your souls hears it and sings along, and one day, you will sing that song yourself, and wonder why?

Book is a ghost with a past, and a future he now gives to the Universe.

Mal sits in his chair with his feet up on the cockpit panels, Fire sitting in his lap purring, as Mal strokes him under his chin.Mal's eyes are closed, as he smiles.

The cockpit is quiet, and the star, seem like crystals. There is peace on the ship, and as if there was as small song, maybe not a song, but a whistle, that made the ship feel like home.
Zen Philosopy:Men wrote books, books didn't write men.


Jayne Might Say:"Books, ain't got no time if they don't have pictures".


"My wings maybe be broken, my eyes may only see the black in the world, but my heart sees the fire, and I fly once again".

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Wednesday, April 5, 2006 10:15 PM

For Keeps

An old man lays on an old worn matteress, with stuffing coming out, he lungs heaving with pain. His grey hair, platted with sweat, he can hardly breath. His black face, old from hard life, but his eyes, had a depth that few man could see or measure.

The wooden shack isn't much bigger than a shed, the planks of wood, let shafts of light through. The mud on the floor is wet, and slushy

He Puts his hand down on the small blonde head that weeps into belly, ands strokes, his head. The pain is too great, he keeps passing out, he can't remember, how long he has been there, but he knows he hasn't got long to live, minutes rather than hours, he can feel the rupture in his stomach, and the bleeding the chest from the blast he took. He has only time left to give Jayne some comfort.

All Sam remembers what getting his gun to protect the little rubbish he been able to scavenge from the rubbish tip, that day, but the other person, was too quick. If only... now things were so complicated now, if only he hadn't taken charge of Jayne, this wouldn't be so painful.

That little rat-boy, whose eyes ran wild, feeding off garbage, and who fought the birds, for the bread crumbs. That, was now four years ago, and now Jayne must be eight, and what would he do? A spasm shot through his body, his teeth grinds.

Jayne when he had got him was wild and from the scars on his head, it was apparent, he had some brain damage, probably people had hit with a spade or a brick for some garbage on the tip. But, all the roughness, there was still that sweetness that survived.

"Jayne, Jayne... he whimpers. You must be brave, and strong. You are a man now".

Cough, Cough!

"I want you to never be afraid of running away when you have to, or fighting when you have to. But, if you can't be smart, do it right Jayne!", he smiles.

Cough, blood was trickling down his throat.

"Now, I am going to give you a present."
"Have I been good Uncle Sam?"
"Yes, Jayne, you have been very good".
"It is my birthday or Christmas?", Jayne lisps
"Now, I want you to keep this close, and never show anyone this present, and only use it to protect yourself be strong, when you have to fight, and run when you have to!"
His hand shaking he pulls a gun from under his pillow, and hands him the gun. Now put them in your bag?"
"For Keeps, Uncle Sam?"
"Yes, Jayne. Now, I want you to take your things and find yourself a new home."
Jaynes, eyes, become tearful, as his lip blubs
"Are you going just like my Mummy?"
"Yes, Jayne, I would stay if I could.. but I can't. I am sorry Jayne. But, now you must do as your mother said and fight, fight, and keep what is yours, for keeps"
Jayen, picks up his blue bag, and put the items into his blue bag.
Sam, swallows the blood that is now in his mouth.
"I love you Jayne!"
"I love you too Sam".
Jayne, opens the door to the shed, and walk out without looking back his eyes are red, his heart beats, and he know the fear like he has known before.


"My wings maybe be broken, my eyes may only see the black in the world, but my heart sees the fire, and I fly once again".

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Wednesday, April 5, 2006 10:36 PM

I liked my story with all its spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. So I am going to give it a big grin ,and a smile






"My wings maybe be broken, my eyes may only see the black in the world, but my heart sees the fire, and I fly once again".

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Thursday, April 6, 2006 12:00 AM

This sort of thing belongs in the blog section or fanfic, not on the discussion board. And since you keep editing the title of the thread I keep clicking on what I think is a discussion I haven't read yet, and it's just wasting my time.

Hopefully you will not be offended by my comments, I am not saying you don't have the right to post your ideas, just put them in the right place. Dong ma?




wo men ren ran zai fei xing.

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Friday, June 12, 2009 12:30 AM

Just reading some of the comments from a few years back. Funny, if not amusing!

Some harsh. Some very harsh. Most just amusing, as they don't back it up? It is a weird thread. But, I think the thread, say it all: "Three-Quarters, Not For Everyone".

For all those that were kind, thanks!
And yes, I did post the small short story on the proper part of this website.

But, I think most of you don't know how hard it is to do a simple sub-plot in less than three-hundred words.

Cheers for the kind words, I think there were a couple of nice words.
Thank you!

"My wings maybe be broken, my eyes may only see the black in the world, but my heart sees the fire, and I will fly once again".

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