If you're actualy reading this would you mind posting a comment so I know someone has read this blog. In the mean time look at this. It's an animated file but I don't think it'll play. It's completely pointless but I've nothing else to do. 
Monday, January 8, 2007
The Hunter
Now a little latter than I promised my story, I hope my loyal legions of fans can contain themselves.
Since I have no fans and no one has even read my blog yet I think my lateness is something nobody's going to care about.
I do care however about the the button labeled E on my keyboard.
I mean you treat your keyboard well, always gentil till suddenly it comes round and suddenly stops working.
Enough about my keyboard and on to the short story, but be aware I have to press the E button five times to get it to registar I've pressed it.
So on top of usaul bad spelling I might occasionaly leave out an e.
The Branches slice the moonlight into thin shafts that shine on the ground in broken fragments.
The trees and the bushes shift and shake as a cool night breeze wistles through them.
A mere instant passes and they are still again.
Slience bleak and total soon desends on the still forest.
Yet eyes are watching the motionless shapes that wait unmoving in the silent forest.
The sound of a snapping twig echeos around the twisted shapes of the trees.
Suddenly a black shadow bounds from the bushes.
It's feet thundering against the forest floor.
It's body smashing through branches and bushes.
Crashing, creaking, cracking branches smash the erie silence.
The sounds of pursuit rapidly draw nearer.
Exhastion, exeretion...despairation, emotions and feelings course through the prey.
The deer erupts from the bushes as it dashes into the clearing.
Jet black like the deepest shadows the wolves stand waiting the deer already in their trap.
The paniced deer turns to run but more wolves lesurely stride from the forest from which emerged.
A shadow obscures the moon for an instant.
With unnatural speed the wolves are on the deer, tearing, cutting, bitting.
The fire lingers still growing faint as it grows late.
Images of a dream linger also.
A check of my bow, a check of my quiver shows the effect this dream.
The final sights of the deer fill my vision, red eyes darker then blood with an unsateable hunger.
In the night wolves howl to the moon and red eyes watch.
Since I have no fans and no one has even read my blog yet I think my lateness is something nobody's going to care about.
I do care however about the the button labeled E on my keyboard.
I mean you treat your keyboard well, always gentil till suddenly it comes round and suddenly stops working.
Enough about my keyboard and on to the short story, but be aware I have to press the E button five times to get it to registar I've pressed it.
So on top of usaul bad spelling I might occasionaly leave out an e.
The Branches slice the moonlight into thin shafts that shine on the ground in broken fragments.
The trees and the bushes shift and shake as a cool night breeze wistles through them.
A mere instant passes and they are still again.
Slience bleak and total soon desends on the still forest.
Yet eyes are watching the motionless shapes that wait unmoving in the silent forest.
The sound of a snapping twig echeos around the twisted shapes of the trees.
Suddenly a black shadow bounds from the bushes.
It's feet thundering against the forest floor.
It's body smashing through branches and bushes.
Crashing, creaking, cracking branches smash the erie silence.
The sounds of pursuit rapidly draw nearer.
Exhastion, exeretion...despairation, emotions and feelings course through the prey.
The deer erupts from the bushes as it dashes into the clearing.
Jet black like the deepest shadows the wolves stand waiting the deer already in their trap.
The paniced deer turns to run but more wolves lesurely stride from the forest from which emerged.
A shadow obscures the moon for an instant.
With unnatural speed the wolves are on the deer, tearing, cutting, bitting.
The fire lingers still growing faint as it grows late.
Images of a dream linger also.
A check of my bow, a check of my quiver shows the effect this dream.
The final sights of the deer fill my vision, red eyes darker then blood with an unsateable hunger.
In the night wolves howl to the moon and red eyes watch.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Why I wonder are you reading this blog?
I didn't think anyone would ever read this thing congratulations on being the first or is it the second, maybe the third. I have no way of knowing. Tomorrow I think I'll post one of my stories if I'm able I probably won't have time. Funny I'm apprehsive towards showing any thing I write to my friends and family yet I'm not bothered about uploading on to the internet for total strangers to read and critise at will. Not that I think any will.
My first post
My first post on my first blog. How does this make me feel, well sort of like wait for something to happen like the delivery guy to arrive or the clock to strike twelve. That's because I'm sitting here... bored... nothing to do... and an age to wait before any thing happens in this sleepy little village. Not that I'd go out and join in if something was happening simply because I'm the kind of person who complains about having nothing to do but wouldn't do anything any way.
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