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[This is the same story as "Turyści" but translated to English.] It was not good. It was bad, almost tragic. King Harold, called Venerable for some time now, trotted across the throne room, murmuring curses under his breath. Although he tried to walk in a dignified manner, as he was already old, he always ended up tripping over things. Something occurred to him. He stopped and stared at the ...
[This is the same story as "The Tourists" but in Polish, its original language.] Nie było dobrze. Było źle, wręcz tragicznie. Król Harold, od pewnego czasu zwany Sędziwym, dreptał w poprzek sali tronowej, mrucząc przekleństwa pod nosem. Starał się co prawda dostojnie przemierzać dystans, ale że był już leciwy, to zawsze kończyło się to dreptaniem. Coś przyszło mu do głowy. Zatrzymał się i wb...
Imagine reliving the best parts of your life again, and in a way that you control. Sound interesting? Would you change anything about that day? Maybe you didn’t quite take advantage of a certain situation. Yesterday, I stumbled upon a way of doing so, although I think I’ve changed more than just a single moment. I didn’t realize the consequences. I decided to go back and see the guy at the bar w...
Imagine reliving the best moments of your life again, and in such a way that you can control them. Sound interesting? Would you change anything? That’s what I thought. I’m not going to bore you with the whole; who I am, if I’m good or if I’m bad. Who gives a fuck right? I’m just going to jump into the nitty gritty because, as you and I both know, that’s what you're here for. I’ve found a bar, on...
There’s a reason why the Irish are musical folk. Ye see, It helps us remember our ways. Our ancestry is passed down from father to son, and from mother to daughter in the words we sing, in the beat of our feet and in the strings of our guitars. It helps us to not forget where we came from. But, there’s also another reason why us Irish are musical folk, it keeps your One away. Today, the world ...
Chapter 4 Watching the small Eastern Cottontail through the sights of his new 12-gauge shotgun, Dan's mouth began to water. The rabbit looked absolutely delicious for tonight's dinner. He slowed his breathing, allowing the shotgun to bob in a figure eight motion as his chest rose and fell. Holding his breath halfway through his final exhale, Dan applied a gentle squeeze to the gun’s trigger of u...
Chapter 3 Ted sat in his old armchair, staring out the window as the sun fell beyond the horizon. The sky was painted a wonderful reddish-purple gradient, causing him to forget, just for a moment, the ongoing chaos. Taking a sip of his beer, Ted's mind wandered back three weeks prior -- to when the lights went out. Three Weeks Earlier Going to work for someone else wasn't something Ted w...
Chapter 2 "Fuck Brendan, be quiet! You'll wake them up," Mike forcefully whispered. Brendan shot Mike a 'whatever' glance as he continued rummaging through the cupboard. "I don't give a shit man, I'm hungry." "Yeah, but we don't want any trouble from these people; just some food. If we can get out of here without drawing attention before the sun comes up, we'll be better off," Vince chimed i...
Chapter 1 Jolting awake in a cold sweat, Dan glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Reality came crashing back to him as he realized the nightmare was real. The alarm clock was dark; just a paperweight on the nightstand now. The power had gone out a little over three weeks ago and things were getting bad. The first few days were okay. People were friendly and willing to lend a hand to anyone ...
Waking up in the morning is always hard for him. It's especially hard at 0500 hrs when the sun hasn't even woken up yet. But, that is the life of a military man. "Some military," he mumbled under his voice as he stepped into the shower. Everyone is just asleep and blindly doing what they're told, He thought as he washed himself. How can I get myself out of this mess. He didn't always think t...
I saw a game on Facebook last week. It’s a riff on “Elf on the Shelf” called “Doll in the Hall.” Basically, you use a porcelain doll to fuck with your kids during October. It sounded like a blast for me. I stopped at Goodwill while running errands and found the perfect doll. Pretty unassuming, blonde hair, blue eyes, the eyelids that move with it’s head, and most importantly, it could stand on i...
We all know her, the accentless AI within the iPhone. I know android has one too, Genie, but as an apple user, I only use Siri. I’ve used her a few times to find restaurants, or to turn on music whilst on a road trip, that sort of stuff. But I’ve never asked her a question. Like really asked. So I did, tonight, and it was the worst thing I ever did. Below is a transcript of our conversation. *...
[This is the same story as "Swiat dla Ell" but translated to English.] "Hi, Ors. What are you thinking up today?" Mar pushed her way between the chairs and stood behind the man, brazenly staring at the three-dimensional image on the desktop. "A monster," he replied and looked at the girl. She was just over eighteen, with short black hair and green eyes. She was the youngest employee of t...
[This is the same story as "A world for Ell" but in Polish, its original language.] – Cześć, Ors. Co dziś wymyślasz? – Mar przecisnęła się między krzesłami i stanęła za mężczyzną, bezczelnie wpatrując się w trójwymiarowy obraz na pulpicie. – Potwora – odparł i spojrzał na dziewczynę. Miała niewiele ponad osiemnaście lat, krótkie czarne włosy i zielone oczy. Była najmłodszą pracownicą dzi...
[This is the same story as "Wieża" but translated to English.] The tower has always been here. And since I remember it was a forbidden area. Besides, not much of the once magnificent building was left. The walls reaching to the sky, but crumbling under the influence of wind did not encourage approach, hence nobody really knew what was inside. I did not try either. I liked to watch the tower fr...
[This is the same story as "The Tower" but in Polish, its original language.] Wieża stała tu od zawsze. I odkąd pamiętam była terenem zakazanym. Zresztą, niewiele już z niegdyś potężnej budowli zostało. Mury wysokie do nieba, lecz kruszejące pod wpływem wiatru nie zachęcały do zbliżania się, stąd nikt naprawdę nie wiedział, co znajdowało się w środku. Ja też nie próbowałam. Lubiłam obserwować ...
[This is the same story as "Genie and other inventions" but in Polish, its original language.] Butelka z dżinem stała na oknie i wywoływała wyrzuty sumienia. Dżin nie wyglądał na złośliwego. Ot, taki sobie zwyczajny szczupły brunecik z podkręconym wąsikiem. Siedział po turecku i patrzył przed siebie. Sprawiał wrażenie nieszczęśliwego. Może zresztą był. Miał prawo po latach siedzenia w jednym mie...
[This is the same story as "Dżin i inne wynalazki" but translated to English.] The bottle with the genie stood on the window sill and made the girl feel uncomfortable. Genie didn't look malicious. Just an ordinary slim brunet with a curled mustache. He was sitting cross-legged and looking straight ahead. He seemed unhappy. Perhaps he was. He had every right after years of staying in one place. ...
I thought I was the best photographer I knew. I could not be the best ever, I didn't know if I was good enough to be classified as the best, ever. But I did know, I had not met (in person) another photographer that was as good as I was, or better. Photographers of good quality in these parts were really hard to come by. So I thrived here; basic business rule: run a monopoly and thrive. I may not h...
I liked to claim that I don't have a heart, so I could not get emotionally involved with a girl, and in extension, I would not be heartbroken. But in recent times, I have actually liked someone, but then they left, and while I would not exactly classify how I felt then as heartbroken, I took to writing. Here's what i wrote. We watched the stars on display. Before us was an open bottle of wine, o...