She was beautiful. She might have been more beautiful if her skin had retained its original color. That and the blood stains on her chin weren’t that appealing. If only she were still alive. She banged and scratched trying to get in to the grocery that we had barricaded. Her blonde hair blew in the breeze. She could have been a model, or an actress or anything she wanted. I bet she never had to pay a speeding ticket in her life. It seems true love is always like that, so close yet so far away. If only I had met her before the reanimated corpses had invaded our city. Now here we were, eyes locked through the plexi-glass, me wanting her, her wanting me. Ten feet away, yet separated by a million miles.
We had converted Safeway into a castle of defense as soon as the undead started becoming a real threat. It started in the southwest, people in morgues had started getting up and walking around. It wasn’t until a live person got bitten by one that we realized we had a problem. The government sealed off the town where it started, but it was too late. They had already spread. Some whole towns fell prey to the disease. We had enough of a head start here to prepare for it but even still many in our town now had joined ranks with the so called “zombies.” A few of us had managed to seal off the grocery store. There is enough food in here to keep us going for a while as long as the barricaded doors hold off the hundreds of hands pounding on them.
That brings us to now. Several people in the store were in the back preparing our meal for the night. I stood in the doorway with a shot gun on my hip making sure that doors were holding. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her though. I would look into those beautiful blood stained eyes and see the rest of my life there. I could see the picnics we went on followed by long walks through the park. We had the same taste in movies, music and literature. Her favorite book was The Count of Monte Cristo, mine was The Three Musketeers. After our long walks we would sit in the shade of the trees and read Poe to each other. She loved the “Cask of Amontillado,” we had read it 4 or 5 times together and I could listen to it at least a thousand times more from her lips.
“Dinner’s ready!” Interrupted my thoughts and I walked back and joined with the others for our evening meal. We utilized the fresh food and vegetables knowing they would spoil first. I ate until full saying nothing to my companions. I was too lost in thought to speak. They laughed and carried on as if nothing in the world was wrong. I can’t blame them; it is the best way to act in this type of situation. I would have joined in but my heart was not in it. It was out there, with her.
I resumed my post after eating and watched the zombies outside pounding on the glass and trying to find a way in. They built these groceries pretty tough, way tougher than most people think. Someone suggested we climb up top and drop some homemade bombs on them to lessen the strain on the glass, but one misplaced explosive could shatter the glass and then we would have more problems than we could count.
I still couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her name had to be Elizabeth or Victoria, only the name of a queen would be good enough for her. As I day dreamed about the love we could have shared a failed to notice one corner of the glass had come loose. The zombies noticed right away and immediately focused their attention on it. When I realized what had happened it was too late. I clicked off the safety on my shotgun and waited for the first zombie through. First one came through and was neutralized, second and so on until my eight shots were gone. I reached down to reload just as the whole window popped out. She was the first one through coming right for me. She walked toward me with outstretched arms. Each step brought her closer until her arms reached around my shoulders and leaned in. I leaned in as well and kissed her on the lips. She didn’t kiss back, just bit.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
BLOGGING ALERT!!!
As I'm sure many of you have noticed, I'm a lazy blogger. I know many of you are anxiously waiting for each new post and disappointed when they are months apart, therefore I'm changing the layout of my blog. From this time forth my blog will consist mostly of trip reports and short stories. I will occasionally blog about my thoughts on life. If any of you are mad about this, who cares. I don't and it is my blog so you can just keep your mouth shut and save me the trouble of shutting it for you. Also a word about my short stories, I'm not an English major and so they have grammatical problems, If this offends you go ahead and read the sentence that precedes this one. If this change fills you with ecstasy, excellent.
Sincerely,
Christian Bond
Editor in Chief
Sincerely,
Christian Bond
Editor in Chief
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Short Stories and Stuff
Yes that alliteration was intentional. So I have decided to post a little short story I wrote for one of my classes. Feel free to post any improvement suggestions you have but be warned that the likelihood of me taking anything you suggest into consideration is probably nill. So grab a Dr. Pepper and some air popped pop-corn with way to much butter and enjoy.
The swirling sand made it all but impossible to see the footprint. Just a slight indentation in the ground made it barely possible to see. I crouched down to see which direction the foot was heading in. Heading west. I hopped back up on top of Nelson and spurred him on. This guy was a real bad guy. Wanted for two murders back in Dandridge County and from the way he carried those out probably even more than that in other counties. But for $10,000 I’ll track anybody, even without being commissioned by the Marshall.
I surveyed the desolate landscape looking for any more signs. No luck. Just saguaros and sage brush. I tipped my hat back and readjusted my bandanna across my neck in an attempt to block the sun. Again, no such luck. Nelson kept on across the desert while I reached down for a drink. This wasn’t the first ne’er-do-well I had tracked. I had caught even more. All I had ever done was follow my nose and that gut feeling in my stomach. More than once that sinking feeling in my gut had saved my skin. I kept a close lookout for signs as we walked along. Occasionally a broken twig would let me know I was on the right track.
Signs were getting scarce when I noticed what looked like a big carcass a little up ahead. I pushed Nelson to a gallop and pulled up alongside the big buffalo carcass. Or what was left of it. Mostly just bones with some with a few ragged pieces of skin remained. Didn’t look like humans killed it, they would have spent more time getting the skin off it. Must have been some sort of animal. I jumped down to take a look around and sure enough found enough animal tracks to make an accurate conviction. I took a look down to see what type of animal would have caused it. Wolf tracks? No. Couldn’t be. I had never seen wolves this far south. But sure enough those were wolf tracks. Had the little claw marks and everything. Most have been a few of them from the number of prints around. Well, no worry, they are all fed and won’t be hungry for at least a couple of days.
I decided that this was as good a place as any to bed down for the night and pulled out my bed roll and started up a fire. Just as the light was dying I picked off a rabbit for dinner. The sun went down a little further in the sky and I faded off just as the sun dipped behind the horizon. A few hours later I was awakened by the howl of wolves as their voices reached the full moon. It was beautiful in a scary sort of way. The howl of wolves is different from that of other dogs or coyotes. The howl of a wolf is a full, beautiful sort of wail rather than the nervous scream from coyotes. Despite the noise I drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake till morning.
I woke just before sun rise and was on the trail just as it poked its head above a distant mountain. Hill is more accurate, but it is the closest thing to in this area. A few miles down the trail I came upon an Injun tribe. As I got closer I could see ‘em all runnin’ around mad as hornets. I made my presence known and they came up to me shouting about losin’ one of their children. I told ‘em I had just come from a little further east and was huntin’ a known killer. They said wolves took the kid and I told them they were imagining things. I left the tribe just as I found ‘em, still mad as hornets.
I picked up his trail again a little past the Injun camp and must be getting close cause his footprints were getting more defined. I kept on his trail until his footsteps were entirely trodden over by other footprints. As I took a closer look it was as I feared, wolf tracks. He didn’t deserve to go out like that. It was too good for him. He needed to hang in front of the families of people he murdered. But there was no reward without a body so I followed the wolf tracks hoping they would lead to where they left him.
Just before dusk I rode into Custis. A small town built around a spring. Town maybe too large a word to describe it. The saloon was the most prominent building among the bunch so I tied off Nelson in front and went in to take a look around. They had rooms upstairs so I got myself a room for a change from the desert ground and made myself comfortable. After a change and a quick shave I went down to the bar to have a chat with the bartender.
“What can I get ya?”
“Nothing to drink. Not yet anyway. You see a fella by the name George Adams?” I asked knowing he was probably dead anyway.
“Not tonight.” He replied.
“What do you think of those wolves we have been hearing around here?” He asked
“Mighty strange.” I said. “I have never heard of wolves coming this far south.”
“Mighty strange indeed.” The bar tender affirmed.
We kept on small talking until just before the sun set. Just as that sun was going down I saw the dirty scoundrel walk in through the double doors of the saloon. The wolves didn’t get him. If I would have had my gun I would have settled things right there, but it was back up in the room so I kept on small talkin’ while he ordered people around getting set up in a room. Room 205. It was that easy. I gave him a few minutes to get comfortable while I grabbed my repeatin’ rifle and buckled on my pistol. I crept down the hall to room 205 and with a heavy kick smashed in the door. I burst into the room with my rifle pointing the way and staring right down the barrel of my rifle was a wolf. Sort of. He was bigger than a wolf and was standing on his back legs. His big yellow eyes stared at mine for an instance until a sudden and unexpected leap sent him through the window. I rushed to the window and fired a few shots at the fleeing creature as he sped away from me. He was fast and after a few moments watching him I knew there was no way of catching up. Especially on foot.
A few quick steps and leaps brought me to the floor of the hotel and I as I ran out I managed to put a few more shells in my rifle. I leapt up on Nelson, holstered my rifle, and spurred him after the wolf. The tracks were fairly easy to follow out of town and I kept on his track running Nelson at almost a full gallop. His trail led me outside of town into a lava field. I followed him down a narrow corridor of rock walls when I lost the trail. A rock shifted on the wall behind me and I jerked around and watched the gaping mouth of the wolfman get larger and larger. My hand unconsciously went to the pistol on my hip and just as I could feel the hot breath of the wolfman on my face the pistol fired sending the bullet straight through him. His lifeless body crashed into mine knocking me off Nelson and crashing painfully into the lava rocks. I pushed off his body and watched the hairy skin recede from the face leaving the more recognizable face of George Adams. Nelson neighed a little as I dumped the body on his back and settled in the saddle. The Colt Dragoon, made to kill men, horses and apparently wolfmen.
The swirling sand made it all but impossible to see the footprint. Just a slight indentation in the ground made it barely possible to see. I crouched down to see which direction the foot was heading in. Heading west. I hopped back up on top of Nelson and spurred him on. This guy was a real bad guy. Wanted for two murders back in Dandridge County and from the way he carried those out probably even more than that in other counties. But for $10,000 I’ll track anybody, even without being commissioned by the Marshall.
I surveyed the desolate landscape looking for any more signs. No luck. Just saguaros and sage brush. I tipped my hat back and readjusted my bandanna across my neck in an attempt to block the sun. Again, no such luck. Nelson kept on across the desert while I reached down for a drink. This wasn’t the first ne’er-do-well I had tracked. I had caught even more. All I had ever done was follow my nose and that gut feeling in my stomach. More than once that sinking feeling in my gut had saved my skin. I kept a close lookout for signs as we walked along. Occasionally a broken twig would let me know I was on the right track.
Signs were getting scarce when I noticed what looked like a big carcass a little up ahead. I pushed Nelson to a gallop and pulled up alongside the big buffalo carcass. Or what was left of it. Mostly just bones with some with a few ragged pieces of skin remained. Didn’t look like humans killed it, they would have spent more time getting the skin off it. Must have been some sort of animal. I jumped down to take a look around and sure enough found enough animal tracks to make an accurate conviction. I took a look down to see what type of animal would have caused it. Wolf tracks? No. Couldn’t be. I had never seen wolves this far south. But sure enough those were wolf tracks. Had the little claw marks and everything. Most have been a few of them from the number of prints around. Well, no worry, they are all fed and won’t be hungry for at least a couple of days.
I decided that this was as good a place as any to bed down for the night and pulled out my bed roll and started up a fire. Just as the light was dying I picked off a rabbit for dinner. The sun went down a little further in the sky and I faded off just as the sun dipped behind the horizon. A few hours later I was awakened by the howl of wolves as their voices reached the full moon. It was beautiful in a scary sort of way. The howl of wolves is different from that of other dogs or coyotes. The howl of a wolf is a full, beautiful sort of wail rather than the nervous scream from coyotes. Despite the noise I drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake till morning.
I woke just before sun rise and was on the trail just as it poked its head above a distant mountain. Hill is more accurate, but it is the closest thing to in this area. A few miles down the trail I came upon an Injun tribe. As I got closer I could see ‘em all runnin’ around mad as hornets. I made my presence known and they came up to me shouting about losin’ one of their children. I told ‘em I had just come from a little further east and was huntin’ a known killer. They said wolves took the kid and I told them they were imagining things. I left the tribe just as I found ‘em, still mad as hornets.
I picked up his trail again a little past the Injun camp and must be getting close cause his footprints were getting more defined. I kept on his trail until his footsteps were entirely trodden over by other footprints. As I took a closer look it was as I feared, wolf tracks. He didn’t deserve to go out like that. It was too good for him. He needed to hang in front of the families of people he murdered. But there was no reward without a body so I followed the wolf tracks hoping they would lead to where they left him.
Just before dusk I rode into Custis. A small town built around a spring. Town maybe too large a word to describe it. The saloon was the most prominent building among the bunch so I tied off Nelson in front and went in to take a look around. They had rooms upstairs so I got myself a room for a change from the desert ground and made myself comfortable. After a change and a quick shave I went down to the bar to have a chat with the bartender.
“What can I get ya?”
“Nothing to drink. Not yet anyway. You see a fella by the name George Adams?” I asked knowing he was probably dead anyway.
“Not tonight.” He replied.
“What do you think of those wolves we have been hearing around here?” He asked
“Mighty strange.” I said. “I have never heard of wolves coming this far south.”
“Mighty strange indeed.” The bar tender affirmed.
We kept on small talking until just before the sun set. Just as that sun was going down I saw the dirty scoundrel walk in through the double doors of the saloon. The wolves didn’t get him. If I would have had my gun I would have settled things right there, but it was back up in the room so I kept on small talkin’ while he ordered people around getting set up in a room. Room 205. It was that easy. I gave him a few minutes to get comfortable while I grabbed my repeatin’ rifle and buckled on my pistol. I crept down the hall to room 205 and with a heavy kick smashed in the door. I burst into the room with my rifle pointing the way and staring right down the barrel of my rifle was a wolf. Sort of. He was bigger than a wolf and was standing on his back legs. His big yellow eyes stared at mine for an instance until a sudden and unexpected leap sent him through the window. I rushed to the window and fired a few shots at the fleeing creature as he sped away from me. He was fast and after a few moments watching him I knew there was no way of catching up. Especially on foot.
A few quick steps and leaps brought me to the floor of the hotel and I as I ran out I managed to put a few more shells in my rifle. I leapt up on Nelson, holstered my rifle, and spurred him after the wolf. The tracks were fairly easy to follow out of town and I kept on his track running Nelson at almost a full gallop. His trail led me outside of town into a lava field. I followed him down a narrow corridor of rock walls when I lost the trail. A rock shifted on the wall behind me and I jerked around and watched the gaping mouth of the wolfman get larger and larger. My hand unconsciously went to the pistol on my hip and just as I could feel the hot breath of the wolfman on my face the pistol fired sending the bullet straight through him. His lifeless body crashed into mine knocking me off Nelson and crashing painfully into the lava rocks. I pushed off his body and watched the hairy skin recede from the face leaving the more recognizable face of George Adams. Nelson neighed a little as I dumped the body on his back and settled in the saddle. The Colt Dragoon, made to kill men, horses and apparently wolfmen.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
You're my first, my last, my everything...
So you may be thinking that this blog is about a girl. For anybody who really knows me they know it is not, it is about my job. There are host of reasons why I love my job more than probably 97% of girls I have met. I thought about doing this blog in list format but decided against it, because my job is above that, it is worth more to me than that. I work here at Byu-Idaho filling vending machines from 6:00 am to 9:00 am. There are the obvious reasons why my job is better than a girl, it pays me, it doesn't make me feel like I don't pay her enough attention, and it doesn't call or text me 20-30 times a day. Pretty much work is the perfect mistress, except for the sex part. Every day greets me with a new adventure, either all the chips in the dorm were eaten overnight, stealing a co-workers van, or the masterminds (heavy sarcasm implied) on the Student Representative Council decide that a great idea to boost their numbers at devotional would be to pass out "devotional pass along cards" in the vending machines across campus. So instead of spending long hours in the library trying to scamming on hoochies I'm getting up early and passin' out that candy. Don't hate the player hate the game.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Movies
Since the last post I did was about movies I figured I would just give you some movies that I think will help you be a better more rounded person. Also all these movies are old cause I love old movies. Deal with it. For your convenience I have seperated them into genre.
Westerns
Westerns
- The Searchers (John Wayne said it was his best)
- High Noon (Some commies say it is about how they were treated, whatever it is a good movie)
- Once Upon a Time in the West (5 minutes till the end I thought it was a terrible movie and now it is on this list)
- The Cowboys (Heartbreaker)
Film Noir (kind of)
- To Have and Have Not (Ernest Hemingway classic)
- Vertigo (Hitchcock, need I say more)
- Charade (Audrey Hepburn + Cary Grant= PERFECT!)
- Laura
Romance
- It Happened One Night (Also Hilarious)
- Roman Holiday (Another Hepburn)
- Sabrina (Yet another Hepburn, but also has Humphrey Bogart)
War
- Patton (Rommel! You magnificent B******! I read your book!)
- Caine Mutiny (Ending was AWESOME)
- Lawerence of Arabia (Make sure you have 4 hrs)
- Seargent York (Rednecks go to war)
Drama
- Casablanca (Tied with Searchers for my fav movie of all time)
- Best Years of Our Life (3 post WW II stories that intertwine)
- M (Super creepy, could have been put under film noir section)
- Ben Hur
Comedy
- Some Like it Hot
- Were No Angels
- Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid (Steve Martin and it is black and white)
- Dr Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love with the Bomb (Weird but funny)
Horror (These are some of the first Horror movies and they are classic)
- Night of the Hunter
- Psycho
- Gaslight
Okay so that is my list. I have left off a lot of really good ones that are more well known, but some really well known was I have kept on because they are so good. A lot of people, I'm sure, have heard of a lot of these but haven't actually watched them, so I implore you to live the higher life of cinema viewers and go for the good ones.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
