Dime Novels From Oblivion

Ryan had just turned 21 years old when his reserve unit was deployed to Iraq. He had just asked his girlfriend to marry him and was in his final year of college. Ryan didn't worry too much about the war, though. Ryan was an optimist and as far as he was concerned everything happens for a reason.  The IEDs seemed to be everywhere. The makeshift explosives turned marketplaces into blood-soaked scenes of carnage. They also waited on the desolate roads that ran across the desert. One exploded right next to Ryan's passing humvee. The shrapnel proliferated Ryan's flesh and infection set in around the metal scraps. Ryan's leg had to be amputated.  "It will be ok. Everything happens for a reason. God has a plan" Said a teary-eyed Ryan when he woke full of drugs and with one less leg.  When the army returned Ryan to the world, they left him unemployed and addicted to painkillers. Ryan was in no shape to resume school, but he held onto his sunny disposition. &quo

This piece was featured in "The Den Anthology" by Grey Wolf Publishing. It's a collection of short story contest winners compiled over the last year. Grey Wolf is an excellent publishing house in the midwest that has dedicated itself to getting little-known authors like myself on to the printed page and into the hands of readers all over the world. They also offer workshop services and a number of other opportunities to help burgeoning writers find their voice via the pen. Check them out here and hey maybe buy the book, ey? The buzzing electrical motors and simultaneous hammering of a hundred sewing needles made a hectic but numbing atmosphere. Even in such crowded conditions, the workers were careful never to let their weary eyes meet those of the people around them, especially the overseers that stalked the roads looking to make a brutal example of his absolute authority. The heavy air hung stagnant with sweat and fear.  Their worn out bodies were vulne

Every society has its initiation rituals for its youth. While so-called civil societies often try and avoid something with such primitive connotations rarely do they fail to mark a child's transformation into adulthood. The society Theresa came of age in recognized the mark of a child was the belief in one's immortality. Everything in life was permanent and death something that only happened to other people, mainly the aged who they could never imagine becoming. Collectively it was decided 15 was too old to continue holding onto the fair tale,  and so they introduced "Traini's box."  The confines of the isolation chamber was a world of its own. Time dissipated in the darkness and the only sound was thought. It was the very edge of existence, a place where none of the senses received enough stimulation to remind the mind it was still alive. The chamber was only 7X2 but it held eternity, and whoever was put inside was forced to stare into the never-ending void. Th