Silly Alien That's My Money: August 2013

Alright guys, so I know it's not Monday but bear with me on this, it's something I've been thinking about for a long time and the main character I've had in my head for even longer so I'll post more as I write it. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

~Kitsuyurei Jokyoku ©

P.S. I need chapter titles, if anyone has ideas or tips for how to improve it.

My Grandfather, whilst he was still alive, would sit in the old faded, red fabric chair and recount the tale of this one day - while he was merely a teenage boy – it began to snow. But this snow was not the same flittering, unremarkable snow of which most people of his generation would call to mind – no. This snow didn’t stop, not for night or day, or the ending of winter nor spring, summer or anything else. It simply kept on snowing and snowing until the whole Earth (as far as land masses went) was completely covered with the white fluff.
In fact it’s still snowing now, several decades later and no-one knows why, naturally there are those wacked theorists who bounce about creating nonsensical conspiracies. Rarely it’s some religious figure claiming it’s the divine wrath of this God or that Goddess or these Gods, but after my father’s time these people seem to be vastly dwindling, in fact in my opinion the most highly practiced and all-consuming religion is war.
For not too many years after the continuous snowfall a war broke out when the communist nations decided to legion together, led by Russia and China against the now ‘Crown Alliance’ sporting Great Britain as its head (after many bad choices America’s power as a ‘great nation’ quickly disappeared into the bowels of history books). After the communistic alliance, the civil war ended and the real fighting began after Russia’s stark refusal for ethical sharing of resources. With the nation’s extensive land set up large, highly controlled domes to produce a variety of foods, both plant and animal variations. Although despite the former exaltations of ‘going green’ in a world of over ninety-percent snow and ice, grass is something rarely seen, not to mention species of flora and fauna not widely considered a useful food source and the majority of them are believed to be extinct, along with human spirit.
My father, when properly introduced is Major Gilligan St Reid and as someone who went to great lengths buying and restoring thousands of books (as they have taken a back shelf in today’s affairs) named me Sherlock St Reid, after the popular character and series ‘Sherlock Holmes’ my father’s personal favourite amongst his collection. Similar to my father, I have also been granted the rank of Major, not that great of a fete considering all able members of society – both genders - are drafted into the military at sixteen, the leaving age for females being twenty-five, males being thirty to aptly control soldiers and the produce of children (read: future soldiers). Through some God of luck I’ve lasted long enough to reach twenty-four, this fact, for anyone with basic adding talent, means I only have six more damnable years of this intellectually stagnant existence until I’m sent home to conceive a child with some female war hero.

Pages

Saturday 24 August 2013

I'm Too Lazy

Words Part One

Thursday 15 August 2013

I'm Finally Back