Under The Armor

Under The Armor

Once, I saw a man standing by a lake,

Hands by his side, dipped in ache.

His alabaster glass skin glowed blue,

confusion and regret, a heart too true,

lit only by the full moon´s light.

He looked like a deadly wounded knight.

Around his head the nimbus of black hair,

like seaweed, floating in liquid air;

moved by unseen currents of wrath.

Small fish hid there, undulating plastic trash.

I cannot forget those eyes, white and cruelly blank.

like a carcass washed unto the riverbank…

A godlike face, innocent, then scalded by waves of time,

ripped by tides of passion, molded by crime:

laughing, weeping, screaming for atonement.

… I chose him as my opponent.

 


image from Animatrix (Peter Chung)

Mr Burke

Mr Burke

published here


The tiger folded his paws, cuffs slipping, showing monograms on his golden cufflinks.

Peterson shuddered. The bureau was huge, bigger than his house.

It made the boss look even more elegant and sophisticated, then before.

The white marble-topped table was impressive, the tiger enthroning the big black leather chair looked like a king holding court.

“Peterson. Do you think, this impresses me?” The tiger snorted and laid his ears back. His golden eyes pierced the weasel sitting in front of his desk. “Do you think this is ENOUGH?” The growl in his voice made the glass of the windows tremble.

Continue reading “Mr Burke”

War Time Tours

War Time Tours

“Right behind you!”

That’s all I need.

Alec’s leather suit creaks, as he leans over to shut off the master inhibitory signals on our implants. The log-tunnel lights up. 

Protocol, protocol. My babysitter-in-time is a babysitter-by-the-book; dutifully complicating my plans. He’s the best. He’s the best I can buy. His missions are like good thrillers, never lost anyone – neither in combat, nor on a time trip. Alec is going to be so pissed, when he finds out I switched coordinates.  Continue reading “War Time Tours”