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AmaDome: Arena III


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Initial post: Nov 8, 2012 8:50:30 AM PST
Last edited by the author on Nov 8, 2012 12:35:07 PM PST
Splinker says:
Listen all! This is the truth of it.

Writing leads to reading and reading leads to reviewing.
And that was damn near the death of us all. Look at us now! Busted up, and everyone killin' each other for a couple of stars.

But we've learned, by the dust of them all... AmaDome learned. Now, when writer's get to writing, it happens here! And it finishes here!

Two writers enter; one writer leaves.

Welcome to AMAZONDOME 2012! ARENA III

Our third match features two gladiators ready to let the ink flow and all they ask for are screams of adoration, or an honorable death. Preferably the adoration thing.

Their name's will be revealed only after the crowd stops yelling and the ink dries.

The genre that the gladiators will be fighting with.... FREE-FOR-ALL!! Anything goes!

Word count: Between 500 and 1,000.

Due Date: November 10

Stay tuned for the big match. Once both stories are posted, everyone who's anyone will get to vote.

Until then, feel free to place bets, discuss odds, talk smack and buy something.

Stick around. We'll have some fun!

P.S. Still time to watch the match in Arena II and vote!

Two writers enter. One writer leaves.

There can be only ONE!

Posted on Nov 9, 2012 9:28:54 AM PST
Splinker says:
Any one who wants to be a gladiator, shoot me an email. Ibdeader@hotmail.com

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 7:30:49 AM PST
Splinker says:
Get ready...

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 12:11:25 PM PST
[Deleted by the author on Nov 11, 2012 12:11:43 PM PST]

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 12:13:10 PM PST
Last edited by the author on Nov 15, 2012 6:01:30 AM PST
Splinker says:
Life in the Absence of Samantha
By Matthew Fish

 

I am dying.  Crimson blood stains my brown jacket.  I begin to realize that the past eighteen years of my short life have amounted to this moment and, for reasons I cannot explain, I am okay with this ending.

Before I go-this is my life, what I found important, and how it ends.

 I think it is not the material things or money...although I understand their importance.  I do not believe it is hard work, despite everything my mother taught me growing up.  I think that it is simply to exist.  To have experiences, both good and bad.  To see as many beautiful places that you can.  After all, who, in the end, lives more?  The man who works eleven hours a day at a job he hates to afford the prison he lives in and buries himself under obligations and finance?  Or the free man who wanders the highway, hungry and broke, yet sees the beauty of a morning sun rising on the mountains in the distance and feels the rough rock beneath his feet.  Sometimes, I wonder if big dreams and plans are the folly of man.  I've witnessed a cat resting contently in the warm glow of the mid-morning sun, not sleeping, yet merely existing.  Thought I do not claim to know what that cat may be thinking, I believe it is neither of big plans nor aspirations of becoming important.  There is contentment that exists there, in the warm sunlight-a sense of contentment that I hope to find in my own life.    As I often saw everyone around me hurrying and scurrying about like ants at the sight of spilled sugar, I take a moment to realize...there is no shame in a simple life.

I place no importance in things that most other people do.  I have no aspirations, no dreams, and no plans.

So, I suppose, that is enough back story, I hope, to get the point where I am right now.    Perhaps, you've gathered enough information from my thoughts to begin to understand what type of person I am.  If you have, I'm not sure that is something to entirely be proud of, for either of our parts.  After all, it is assumptions that have gotten us this far, and regardless of what you think of me, or what ideas you've formed in your mind-I am, Samantha, who prefers Sam,  and  my journey is ending soon. 

It is 3 p.m.  I can tell by the way my old white plastic watch beeps noisily on my wrist, I haven't turned off the hourly alarm since using it to count down my torturous days of school that ended one year ago.  I am not sure if I refuse to do it simply as a reminder of those long days, or just out of laziness.  The truth is probably closer to the fact that I've forgotten what the buttons do, or have no motivation to press them.  I have worn the same watch for nearly three years straight.  I think that if it ever went missing, or the cheap plastic band was to suddenly break, I would miss it somehow. Not as much as an amputee misses a limb and still feels its presence, but similar.

Today, I have taken to wandering the woods a good distance from home; I find comfort in the isolation.  I sit beside a tall oak tree.  As I gaze upon the sky above me, grey clouds fill my view and the faint smell of rain fills my nostrils.

A single deer, tall and brown like the soft color of bare earth, emerges from the brush and comes to stands beside me.  It is not running, surprisingly, it is simply looking at me.  We meet eyes and for a moment I think I see something inside those eyes, something of an unspoken understanding.

I hear a rustle a short distance away in the brush, a man dressed in a bright orange vest is holding a rifle, he does not see me.  He begins to take aim with his weapon, concentrating only on achieving his kill.

I run out from my spot behind the tree.  I do not know exactly why.  However, I find myself between the deer that inexplicably does not run, and the rifle that fires its shot just in time to catch me.  A spray of red fills the view of the autumn leaves, which begin to fall to the earth more slowly than before.  The colors are beautiful.  The earth is warm beneath me.  It embraces me on a bed of soft leaves that smell comfortingly of dirt.  My watch begins to beep.  It is 4 p.m. The rain comes down.  The man wearing the orange vest drops the gun, and I'm almost fairly certain that he will never pick it up again.  He rushes over, probably confused and scared more than anything.  The deer has long since darted off into the woods.

I often wonder if any life is more important than any other.  After all, by all logic the same deer that I gave my life to save could end up shot the next day by a different hunter.  Or perhaps, the deer could run out onto the highway, causing an accident that could kill others.  It is then that I realize that I do not like this manner of thinking, therefore I will not subscribe to it.   There are many reasons that I should have not done what I did.  However, most of them are reasons that I feel you carry with you, and I do not.  After all, as I said once before, I feel that there is no shame in a simple life.

My only regret...?  There isn't much time to really say.  After all, your clock is ticking away, and I've got a sunbeam somewhere waiting for me to lie in.  I just wonder if my watch will remember me when I'm gone--the way a wheelchair misses a dead amputee.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 12:14:18 PM PST
Last edited by the author on Nov 30, 2012 2:38:39 PM PST
Splinker says:
VISITOR
By Splinker

Story has been submitted for publication and I had to take it down.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 12:15:10 PM PST
Splinker says:
Read em and vote! Polls close Wednesday night !

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 12:42:18 PM PST
Last edited by the author on Nov 11, 2012 2:09:51 PM PST
Both great stories. There's no doubt about that but....

My vote goes to VISITOR.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 1:55:51 PM PST
Splinker says:
Voting bump

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 2:00:31 PM PST
Pete Morin says:
VISITOR

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 2:56:33 PM PST
Irish reader says:
'Life in the Absence of Samantha' was nicely written, but I'd have to give it to 'VISITOR'.

- and it's 'prostate', you big muppet. 'Prostrate' is when you're lying on the flat of your back.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 3:10:04 PM PST
Last edited by the author on Nov 11, 2012 3:10:56 PM PST
Splinker says:
Obvious typos may be corrected at any time. Pants off to IR and his keen eye for prostates!

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 3:14:03 PM PST
Splinker says:
There was a missing pronoun in the first story. Also corrected.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 3:22:59 PM PST
Pete Morin says:
Splinker, you can't edit a submitted work. You must paste it in exactly as submitted. So sez I.

In reply to an earlier post on Nov 11, 2012 3:40:50 PM PST
Splinker says:
I was thinking that same thing. I'll email the gladiators and see what they want to do.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 4:31:10 PM PST
Splinker says:
Last bump for the evening. Any other gladiators want to play?

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 4:51:00 PM PST
I vote..Life in the Absence of Samantha

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 4:53:58 PM PST
Both are really good stories.

I vote for VISITOR.

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 5:15:12 PM PST
Splinker says:
Life in Absence draws blood!

Posted on Nov 11, 2012 9:11:27 PM PST
Splinker says:
Bimp

Posted on Nov 12, 2012 5:14:08 AM PST
Splinker says:
Voting bump. Btw, if anyone is interested in playing in a weekly flas fiction contest, talk to Lilian.

Posted on Nov 12, 2012 6:00:27 AM PST
Psylocide says:
Again, both great stories.

I enjoyed 'Visitor,' but I feel like I'm reading that book right now... so my vote goes to 'Life in the Absence of Samantha.'

I enjoyed that the Author took the chance to wax poetic a bit and reveal the character from the inside out. Also, hit the nail on the head about assumptions, because I didn't see that explanation for the opening scene coming.

Posted on Nov 12, 2012 8:51:07 AM PST
Splinker says:
Exercise your write to vote!

Posted on Nov 12, 2012 8:57:06 AM PST
VISITOR

In reply to an earlier post on Nov 12, 2012 8:59:02 AM PST
Psylocide says:
I dunno... I got a downvote for voting.

Where are we? Cuba?
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Discussion in:  Kindle Book forum
Participants:  18
Total posts:  123
Initial post:  Nov 8, 2012
Latest post:  Nov 16, 2012

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