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A little short story I wrote


Tyrion

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I had written this in the middle of the night, right before I had gone to sleep. Please criticize it, I would like to know what I could do to make it better.

 

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It had been a rather long day; at least, it seem liked a day but it wouldn’t be shocking to realize it was a week. The atmosphere of the base had been tense, busy, and restless- anxiety had poisoned the minds of those scurrying within. The war had only begun- or nearly ended- times of troubles permit no one such prescience. Yes, battles had begun; lives were lost, towns destroyed, even entire countries were burning in effigy. But even death does not die, for it lingers on in the fuel of hate and vengeance.

 

That wasn’t the case for Pvt. Jones however; for he was driven by the need to fulfill his duty to his country since it had served him so well: family, community, love, nourishment, and knowledge. Power. But it was only fitting for him to then martyr himself for it’s cause. Liberty hungered lives to flourish, afterall. He just hoped he would appease the hunger with the lives of his enemies.

 

The enemy. There were reasons for their death- he had forgotten exactly why but he knew they existed, even if they were lost to time. Yet in a moment of treason, he permitted a thought of those who should be vindicated in a hail of bullets and bombs. Reap the whirlwind was the motto. However, those soldiers- no, dogs of war- were human, even if only in flesh. One would wish they’d see reason; understand the truth the gods had christened in the bloody tears of his ancestors.

 

“Did I say that, or did they?”

 

Ah well, he realized he was no fanatic after all to his cause, much to the dismay of his training that had been embedded within every fiber of his body. That was a weakness, or so the creed declared. Fanatic of mind and apathetic of body; devoid of emotion and immune to pain. For pain and emotion were the villains of victory, greater than any lead or devouring fire. Free the soul and you risk losing success to a whimsical dream of peace and prosperity.

 

War, for the brief moment, would permit nary a free thought. Instinctually ready and willing, the private and his fellow warriors would fly within those Birds of Deliverance to lay waste to the pariahs which history will soon bid farewell to.

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MMMMM, that was tasty. Very well done.

 

You said criticize, but the only thing I saw was a typo

It had been a rather long day; at least, it seem (SEEMED) liked a day

 

Yoy seem to have a real nack for introducing us to an unknown character through some really well done interior narrative.

When all is said and done, I get the distinct impression that I am seeing through the eyes of either someone who has infiltrated a terrorist organization or a terrorist with mixed emotions.

 

Awsome word choice all throughout: Nary (very underused word that is hard to place properly, but you did very well.) Birds of Deliverance (powerful phrase that hints at all kinds of things)

 

It reads very powerfully like the old War Time poems that soldiers would write, some of which became famous. Just lots of good emotion and sets a great ambiance for a story.

 

I'd really like to see more if you have any.

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