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Captain Yeats :iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 1 2
Literature
Because She Fits There
    It was the one thing you knew you had to do.  You still know it.  It feels wrong but you know it.  Deep down in the coldest part of your brain, it’s there.  She is the one thing that can bring you back.  And she is so close.
    You hang up the phone.  It crashes into the receiver with the familiar metallic crunch.  Your hand stays wrapped about the handle for a moment, unwilling to release it just yet.  She’s waiting for you now; waiting for you to be there once more; waiting for you to hold her like you used to, arms about her and your chin resting atop her head.  On the other end of the line her voice sounded beautiful, not at all like you remember it.
     A car spatters down the slushy street.  It sounds crisp in the frozen air.  Nighttime in the winter does that to sound, sharpens it.  You never noticed that before now.  The way that even th
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 6 7
Mature content
Helpless :iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 5 4
Literature
Blue Ridge Ep. 2
Jonah knelt over Micah’s body. He lay curled up on the forest floor, hands limp against the loam. Something heavy had cratered the right side of his face into a sharp mess of bones and blood. The cavalry sword that had once hung at Micah’s hip rested on the ground a few feet away. His insides had been cut open and what had fallen out was torn to pieces.
They had stopped to eat Leadbelly too.
Jonah stood. It was midnight and the trees were moving. An eerie wind rushed through them and rattled the undergrowth. The moon ducked in and out of the clouds moving across the sky. Above him Blue Ridge loomed like an oppressive spirit. The summit hid from his view behind the canopy of trees. No smoke rose from the ridge any more.
The voice crept into Jonah’s head as he stood there—the one he heard before. It slithered in one ear like a centipede, and snuck through the folds of his mind, unwelcome. His fingers gripped the shaft of the tomahawk and raised it just perceptibly
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 2 3
Literature
Blue Ridge Ep. 1
The signal came like it used to, in the old days, during the war. The smoke burned a pale color tinged green. It rose in wispy clouds from the top of Blue Ridge. Quick winds brushed it out across the sky like watercolor paint on blue paper.
Jonah spied it not long after the sun had come up as he often had when the war was about.
He ate what was left of yesterday’s kill and finished off a strip of jerky he’d gotten from the Goodwife Hetty a few weeks before. She was the only one who bought things from him since Pastor Sykes had died.
He gathered his old musket, checked his powder was dry, and counted his musket balls: twenty—more than he had the powder for. There would be time to remedy that. He packed away his meager belongings and turned from the game trail that he had been following and began heading for the rally point.
It had been agreed upon long before that if the Blue Ridge Boys were ever needed again, they would meet at the old town by Clearwater Creek.  
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 45 23
Literature
The Secret Lives Of White People
His horoscope told him that today was the day.  What a queer thing that was; he never checked his horoscope.  He always threw that section angrily into the garbage.  Not today though.  Today he read it.  God knew he would, so his words went into the paper and no others.  Nobody else could understand the horoscope today, just him.  They would all throw it angrily in the garbage and ask Heaven why today could not have been the day.  But not him.  Today he drove.
His car seated eight comfortably.  Leather interior.  Not the fake kind, it was real leather.  It used to be alive. There used to be an animal underneath it, muscle and bones and marrow.  Then somebody stunned it, cut its throat and hung it up on a hook.  There used to be blood on the seats but some sly person thought to clean it off and attached it to a metal frame and sold it to men like him.  But he wasn't like those men anymore.  He whispered that
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 5 6
Literature
Todd
There was a big fanfare when Todd came back.  Even a couple of newspaper reporters showed up.  It was only right I guess, what with him being dead for a year.  At least I think it was a year.  I mean, he was gone for eight and I'm pretty sure if a person is missing for seven years the government declares them dead or something.  I know that his parents bought a tombstone from the place on First Street a while ago.  They put it up in their family lot at the cemetery, next to his grandparents.  I went to visit it after the funeral.  It had his name and a little inscription.  They left the dates off though.  After that they took him off the missing persons list too.  I know because I used to check it.  
I'll bet that everyone was real pissed when they found out the truth.  He got into town on Tuesday but nobody said a word until Friday.  Then on Satur
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 139 88
Literature
Polo
Polo talked too much. At night when the boys came in he came up on the porch with a pack of cigarettes and started up with the first one to put a boot in the camp. He would light a cigarette and wheeze through a cloud of smoke and go on about the old days of operating the heavy lifters, back before they had all the safeties put on them.
"Them old two-fits," he said nearly every night with varying degrees of clarity, "Thems was real bastads. Used to come up off the deck too quick on the front side and flip over." He claimed he knew at least three operators who died that way.
"Them new lifters," he said, following whoever into the kitchen, "The nine-twos, anyone can fly them. You boys oughta head for the outer rim and get you a load of them old two-fits. Still use 'em out there."
Nobody knew what Polo did for work. Most naturally assumed that he was a lifter pilot for one of the smaller mines but nobody ever saw him go to work. In fact, all anybody saw him do was smoke cigarettes and hac
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 1 5
Literature
The Airplane Crashed
You are still alive. The most terrifying moment of your entire life just passed and you survived it. Your heart shakes in your chest. You let out a long breath to slow it down.
Your seat creaks as you shift your weight. You test your left arm. It feels sore and overworked but not tight like it was. No heart attack then. Something pinches together in your gut and your insides slosh around. You grit your teeth against the pain and test the rest of your body. Right arm works. Your neck is sore but you can turn your head. Legs don't seem to be functioning. In fact you can't feel them at all.
Somewhere behind you, amid the groaning and crying, a fire burns. You can feel the heat on the back of your skull. You lift your hand and touch your hair, which falls away in a powder. You remember the fireball that ripped up the aisle. You ducked down before it rolled over you.  
The fat man who sat beside you wakes up and immediately begins to scream bloody terror. You try to tell him that
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 16 38
Literature
A Friend of Happiness
Books falling. Conrad goes through each room and tears them off the shelves with frightful efficiency. His laughter is swallowed up by the bulkheads around us, muted, contained. The hush of the corridors reminds me of a library. He continues to pull books; the muzzle of his pistol glows.
We have known each other a long while, Conrad and I. The two of us met in university, at the astronomy lectures. Though the guest instructors were numerous and knowledgeable, I fear I did not learn a great deal from their lessons. I confess that my mind often wandered then, before I had a good fetter on it. My roving eyes glanced too often upon the lovely women in the room and not often enough to the front. Yet I dared not speak to them like the other men seemed so readily able to.
One particular specimen though, always seemed to haunt my dreams. She commonly sat two chairs to my right and was always accompanied by a strong and severe looking man. Of all, she was the one I found myself most taken with.
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 3 0
Literature
Bleed American
    This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.  There was supposed to be more to it than this.  He hadn't even managed to fire a shot or go down in a blaze of gunfire and glory.  It was too quick, far too quick.  Just a spike of pressure punching his chest and then he was against a wall, bleeding.  This wasn't at all how it was supposed to go.
      He groaned in pain as his senses returned to him.  Several pieces of shrapnel had penetrated his flak jacket.  Each breath elicited a sharp stabbing pain.  He had to take several quick and shallow gulps of air, followed by a deep breath to keep from passing out.  Going unconscious would be the death of him, he was sure of that.  The men who set off the bomb would come for him and kill him as he lay helpless.  He couldn't let that happen.  That was not how he was supposed to
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 2 5
Literature
The Starship Captain's Prayer
Dear Lord, the umbilical is cut and we are free,
ready to begin our lengthy journey.
Watch over my crew as we embark
and keep together this rickety ark.
Watch especially my engineers
that they not electrocute themselves or peers.
Assuage the ire of my first officer
when he finds the greenhorns asleep in their berths.
Give my medical officer nimbleness of hand
should the worst happen to one of my band
and allow my crew the presence of mind
to never require his care.
Hold my ship tightly together, oh Lord.
Let her hull remain strong for us aboard.
See to her liquid fuel lines
that they not burst in these wintry climes.
Guide my navigation computer and keep its voltage constant
that it may compute not a number errant.
Grant that our life support not fail
or if it should,
let the auxiliary carry us to port.
Hide our signature from the eyes of pirates
and strengthen our signal in times of crisis.
And if You should find a moment of peace
to aid this poor sinner
please, God, don't let me scre
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 4 2
Literature
6 words - Arty
Arty never made it that far. I read a report that a year before he left there had been an accident in one of the manufacturing plants. Acid spill or something like that. The plant was in China, where the regulations were a little more lax. The workers covered up the damage and sent the panel out. A guy from the National Transportation Safety Board found the damage in the wreckage. He figured the panel ought to have blown sooner than it did but for whatever reason held out a little bit longer. Just long enough for Arty to be past the point of no return.
I think it must have been terrifying. Being up in that plane and knowing he had no exit. To Arty though, flying was a treasure. He breathed it. Couldn't get enough of it. Sometimes I think he wanted to die up there in the big white clouds with nothing but the air beneath him. That's why he challenged himself. He never bothered to study the charts or watch the weather. When he wanted to go, he just went and got caught up in whatever storm
:iconSirius-the-Dog:Sirius-the-Dog
:iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 1 0
Mature content
Mexico :iconsirius-the-dog:Sirius-the-Dog 180 153

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Literature
Chapter III: Ventilator Blues
Chapter III: Ventilator Blues
I will put enmities between thee and the woman,
and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head,
and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel.
Genesis 3:15
Berto informed us of our target, Larry Coker, a professor at The University of the Philippines who had risen through the ranks in criticizing the Arroyo administration. He appeared on television and was interviewed in newspapers grinding his axe against certain politicians and turning the public opinion sour against the Arroyo political structure.
"Won't they know something suspicious is going on when this Coker guy just gets murdered after saying negative things against the president?" I asked.
Berto chuckled, "Of course, and that is why we're doing it. See, once they see what happened to him, any other mouthpieces in waiting will think twice before running to the newspapers. They will know it is a bit unhealthy," he smiled. "It's how things work here. Welcome to Manila, my friend."
Next, we studied a d
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Matisha Commish :iconandrahilde:andrahilde 1,383 32
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Critiques


For lit crit: 1. Do you understand the setting soon enough? I had the setting on the first line: kitchen. No punches pulled, my mind fe...

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Sirius-the-Dog
Ethan
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Just a writer, among other things.

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Blue Ridge Episode 2. It took me a long time to finally do it. But here it is. I hope it is somewhat enjoyable.

Blue Ridge Ep. 2

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:iconsaevuswinds:
saevuswinds Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2016  Student Writer
Many years ago, you gave me a number of literary critiques that were honest, sincere, and critical. Now, I'm not sure how active you are anymore, but I wanted to thank you, many years later for offering your time to a very novice writer who was learning what it meant to write effectively and with grace. My work is still no where near perfect, but you were one of the unknown members of the literature community that left me lingering on deviantart, and one of the reasons I drifted back now, out of both nostalgia and curiosity. Thank you. 
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:iconsirius-the-dog:
Sirius-the-Dog Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Hey there, Saevus :)

You're very welcome. It was my pleasure, and I'm glad to hear that you took my most sincere piece of advice, which was to never quit. Let me know if you need a reader.
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:iconsaevuswinds:
saevuswinds Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2016  Student Writer
You are online! You hadn't posted in quite a while, so I was uncertain. 

Don't feel inclined to comment or critique it, but I did post a warm up of mine on here earlier today. Figured doing some prompts on here would help clear my head and get me trying new things.  It's just a first draft so it hasn't been edited, but it is more representative of how my rough writing looks like now! 
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:icontheastrologist:
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2014
Really beautiful gallery. :)
-Elizabeth :heart:
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:iconsirius-the-dog:
Sirius-the-Dog Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for reading :)

I had a look through yours as well. I think we like the same subject matter.

Cheers,

Ethan
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:icontheastrologist:
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2014
No problem. :heart: And I believe we do. :)
-Elizabeth
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:iconxlntwtch:
xlntwtch Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2014   Writer
:iconblinkthanksfavplz: ... :)
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flummo Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2014  Student Writer

Thank you for joining :iconthewrittenrevolution:, we're delighted to have you with us. Welcome to the revolution. :salute:

 

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:iconrollingtomorrow:
RollingTomorrow Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2014   General Artist

Hello! :iconexcitedhiplz:

 

La la la la Welcome to :iconwriters--club:La la la la

 

We're glad to have you as a member and look forward to seeing your contributions! OMG MOAR POEMS!

 

We also hold a lot of contests with great prizes, so keep your eye out for them! We are currently holding our Fourth Annual Writing Tournament, with subscriptions, points, art, features, and many other prizes to win. The full details are in our group blog!

 

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We also have a Critique Program for our members to submit to and receive detailed feedback on their work from our admin team. :D (Big Grin)

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:icontheemptychest:
TheEmptyChest Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2013
Dude, your writing is amazing! You should really get yourself published, if you haven't already.
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