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Showing posts from July, 2014

Living In Lies and Graves

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Martin Yates was just one of thousands of men waiting for their turn to race towards certain death. They stood in the darkness of a storm at midnight. The heavy clouds of the storm raging above their heads erased the moon and stars from the sky. Torrential rain had turned the trench into a rising river. Its murky waters were saturated with blood and clogged with the floating bloated bodies of dead rats. The muddy ground beneath their feet was slowly swallowing them, and one couldn't walk without tripping over water covered corpses.
The flashes of lighting cast long and twisted shadows over the cratered moonscape of no mans land. The barrage of guns was beginning to fritter out into ever more sporadic volleys of fire. The attack in the rain was another ill-convenience plan thought up by high command. It was based on a simple premise, that the storm would blind the enemy while their own boys would somehow effortlessly navigate their way through the stifling darkness and bli…

Legs

The icy corridors of Chicago had been thawed out by the warm air of spring. As the cold receded and the clouds heavy with snow dissipated allowing the rays of the sun to illuminate the streets life began to reemerge out from under winter's heavy hand. Chicago is a hive of concrete and steel. It is an ecosystem carved out by the people who run through its concrete channels like a river. The arrival of spring as it does for many animals awakes that one powerful instinct that is second only to self-preservation, the overwhelming desire for procreation. The people arranged their appearances much the same way a peacock arranges its display of feathers and headed for their urban watering holes. Matt Summers was walking down Clark Street in Wrigleyville, perhaps the city's busiest mating grounds. He was walking against the human stampede fueled by alcohol and hormones. He observed the gelled hair, designer clothes, and tightly fitting yoga pants. He recognized the lust crazed looks …