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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Regel

Quill-Bearer
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Everything posted by Regel

  1. Thank you Wyvern, and of course thank you all the members of the pen. I have been thinking about what to say but for now thank you is all I can think of.
  2. Greetings and Felicitations! (Happy birthday.)
  3. "As I would like to share myself, So that I would not be alone It is not to be" We are all of us alone. Even in a crowded place the nature of the human condition is that of physical seperation. We lost that sense of closeness after we left the womb. You are at odds with the image to see in that mirror. Something that was once external perhaps has moved inside of you. Your work attracted me but your comments are angry and confused. "It is not to be" you wrote unless you allow it to be. Give these good people here a chance to discover you and let them decided.
  4. I didn’t give him the opportunity to catch me again. I think he was amazed that a fat kid could run that fast and that long. His other target had split, thank God, but my beating continued as I took the long way home. Boy was I going to catch it when I walked in my house. It was coming up on 5:30 in the afternoon. Mom and Dad would probably both be home from work. As the oldest I was expected to watch over my younger sister until they got home. To boot I was a mess. The crying hadn’t helped and that runny nose I had wipe with my sleeve turned into a red smear. Perfect, I’ll catch a whooping at home when they see what I have done to my clothes. I hadn’t yet noticed the torn collar but what was I going to tell them? I had used the tackle football story to cover last week’s schoolyard fight. My dad had previously informed me that if I got into a fight and lost he didn’t want me to complain to him about it. I would have to deal with it myself. I hadn’t really stopped crying yet but thought of my greeting at home made me sob out loud. “What happened to you?” Pino said. I had practically bumped into him but when I looked up at Pino he gasped and demanded “Who did this to you?” I was still too upset to speak, but I could point. “That kid.” was all I could manage but that’s all he needed to know. Justice that day was dressed up like an eighteen-year-old Italian kid named Pino. He was the eldest son of a family friend. At five foot seven he was hardly a giant but he was a mechanics apprentice. His hands tore down motors most days but as I watched him jogging towards Richard I knew he would be tearing something else down. Pino was dressed in a pair of jeans and an Italian undershirt. You know the kind. We lovingly refer to them as Italian smoking jackets. His gold chain and crucfix bounced off his chest as he approach the corner. Unbelievably Richard was busy hassling some other kid and didn’t see Pino approaching. Pino spun him around and challenged him. Richard refused his invitation to dance. Pino asked again and again he refused. What was interesting about this besides the obvious fear on Richard’s face was every time he refused Pino would literally kick him in the ass. Each kick would lift him a inch off the ground but still he refused. Pino continued to kick him up and down the street. I don’t know where all the kids came from but pretty soon there was a crowd of kids laughing at Richard. It seemed like it went on for hours but it was probably only minutes and then it was over. I washed up at Pino’s house. A few minutes later I was safe in my own home. I hadn’t been able to wash the smile off my face. I took a deep breath and let the whole day go out with it. I was ready to face the music.
  5. The crack in his knees were audible as the old Terran dropped down to Rune's level. Eyeball to eyeball Regel looks into Rune's small face and smiles. "It's not the first time these knees have been hugged but certainly has been a while." the laughter that follows is contagious. Regel slowly rises again his knees report. "Thank you one and all for your warm greetings. Friendships are not made overnight but some are indeed off to a very good start."
  6. It's amazing how many details of this encounter I still remember; after all it had occurred thirty-eight years ago. I was eleven in 1965 and in Mr. Webster's Grade five class. First male teacher I ever had. He was a pretty cool guy and I was very happy to have him as my teacher. Only a few weeks back in school and summer had already begun to fade in my mind. They had said Webster was tough, he gave us homework! I was taking the short walk home after having stayed behind to clean blackboards. I know what your thinking but I wasn't a brown-noser. This teacher had this duty rotate from chair to chair. As luck would have it that Thursday afternoon was my turn to clean chalk brushes and blackboards. I didn't really have much of a walk. I only lived a short block away. I could have sprinted the distance and been on my porch in under fifteen seconds (my personal best). Although it was deep into September it still felt like August. The late afternoon sun was still high over Princess Ave. and the asphalt playground was deserted. As I crossed Charlotte Street the glint off the Pepsi cola plant caught me right between the eyes. The crossing guards had already split and the street was empty except for a small boy walking his beagle. I didn’t really know him but I knew the older kid walking towards him. His name was Richard and normally when I saw Richard I crossed the street, ducked my head and walked a little faster. As I watch the scene unfolding before me my heart began to pound. I knew the kid was in trouble. He was my age but much smaller than me. Richard was sixteen and had already taken to pushing the kid around. What happened next was a new low even for Richard. The kid’s dog was barking in protest as his young master had begun to cry. Richard tore the leash out of the kid’s hand and started whipping the dog. The little guy tried to stop Richard but with one hand he pushed him to the ground. He turned his attention back to the dog. His arm rose again but this time I caught his wrist. At that moment the stupidest thing I ever said came out of my mouth. I said, “Why don’t to pick on someone your own size?” I saw his face redden and realized too late what I had meant to say was “Why don’t you pick on someone your own age?” I was one hundred and ten pounds and stood almost as tall as him. What the hell was I thinking? I took a terrible beating. Dazed and bloodied I looked up through blurry eyes and watch Richard turn his attentions back to the kid. Enraged I shouted at him. “You gutless piece of shit Richard!” He decided to give chase. I finally did something smart. I ran.
  7. With a slow and deliberate gesture the seated Regel reaches into his satchel and produces a dusty bottle of red wine and two glasses. "It's a Barolo I liberated from the cellars of a country I once visited." The two friends were soon sipping wine with their small repast when WrenWind looked at the dusty satchel lifting one eyebrow and asked "What else do you have in there?" Regel met her question with a smile and said "Wyvern has his decanter and I have a satchel filled with items long forgotten." With that they passed some time in silence sipping wine.
  8. As it is with most people certain dates become important events in one's life. Some are so obvious as to not need any explanation. Most recently Sept 11th, 2001 became one of those dates. For me Sept 22nd 1988 became a day and a time of year that I reflect and remember. After some PM's with a number of close friends that had shared their written words I was inspired to try putting down some of the thoughts and images that run through my head this time of year. I have no real title for it but for purposes of my application I'll call it September 22 1988 Summer died today, quietly while the rest of us slept. Before it could rise to see another day it fell peacefully into death's cold embrace. Summer died today, while the coffee machine brewed and the alarm clock rang. The sky still lightening to a songbird’s lament. Summer died today, with flowers still in full bloom and leaves still green in the trees. The fall has once again come too soon. I would very much like to join The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword. Please consider this my application to join.
  9. "Thank you for the warm greeting Alaeha." With a smile planted firmly on his face Regel hugs Peredhil leans to his ear and whispers, "RogBard is someone else." The lines around that smile are deeply etched into a tanned face. "Wyvern! So this is the home that you frequent now. I will try and meet the minimum requirements of this esteemed writers guild. I will need a some guidance in this area as I know nothing about the way you conduct business here.” Turning back to Peredhil the second oldest Apocalyptic Angel asks “ Recruitment hall?”
  10. If the measure of a good piece of literature is the amount of discussion it sets off then consider this a strong piece WrenWind. "Sometimes, it's worth the price to become non-threatening, especially as you become much less of a target in the process." I did understand the sentiment Ayshela. How often do we stereotype people on body type and other visual clues without ever getting to know the person? I was a rather plump lad in my youth and as a young male all it ever got me was persecution and ridicule. I shed the body type as a young adolescent and things got a whole lot better for me, but I never shed the mindset.
  11. Greetings and Salutations! I have been attracted to this place for many reasons. Mostly it has been the quality of the people I have met through ArchMage that convinced me that this would be a good place for this old soul to haunt. I must confess the I am not a writer and that unlike most of you I haven't come here to hone or develop a latent skill. I would like to thank my friends Wyvern Peredhil and WrenWindSong for convincing me to try this out. To the rest of the members of The Pen I look forward to meeting you all.
  12. "A warmth that lets women be her friend". Why does this bother me so? In my minds eye there is beauty but it more than just the wrapping. I could see some shallow male walking past without noticing but women see other women as either threatening or non-threatening. Am I reading this right? How sad life can be when this world is inhabited with people like this. I like it WrenWind because it effected me. I will leave you with a line from "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray. "Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. "
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