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#BlogBattle Week 13

This will be my third entry in the weekly #BlogBattle. Also, the third posted location. First entry prompt I responded to was “News.” I posted that story for The Velah, and the second was “horde” for which I made a scene for The Barbarian called “Wolf Battle” This week, I offer a brand-spanking new story written exclusively for the prompt “rope.” #BlogBattle 13  Rope Rules: 1000 words max fictional tale (or true if you really want) PG (no more than PG-13) Content – let’s keep this family friendly! Your story must contain the word(s) from the theme and/or be centered around the theme in a way that shows it is clearly related Go for the entertainment value! Post your story by Midnight PST Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting your story, put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section of this page, and/or include a link to this page in your own blog post (it creates a “ping-back” which will alert me and our friends to your #BlogBattle post) Have fun! The theme for this week is Rope.   The Rope Look at it, just swinging there. Like it’s offering a fun time, just like children have. He had a hard time accepting the sight, as it looked so incongruous. He hiked through the National Forest, backpack loaded with provisions for a week, solitude his main destination, and had seen nothing strange. Until now. He trudged the thickest parts of the woods, where very few signs of humans…

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Aging Gracefully

Life is long, Life is hard, You never know what’s in your cards; We start out small and then we grow, And all the sudden we’re getting old. As the sun makes passes across the sky, We learn how to laugh, learn how to cry: We care about things, they fall to the side, To be replaced by others, and time goes by. We play and we learn and do many things, Some make us feel foolish, some make us kings. When youth is done and we join the Rat Race, We find that it takes a lot to save face; But mostly we survive, we roll with the flow, And move with the rest, become average Joes. Then one day it happens, we suddenly see, How we can be happy and fully carefree. For some it is sooner, others are later, And some let it pass, their fears are greater. So, let’s help each other, one day to find We’ve left all the cruelty completely behind!   (c) 2005, 2010 by John T. M. Herres excerpt from my self-published poetry book, “Life Through My Eyes; A Collection Of Poems”

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My First Guest Post Elsewhere

A New Development I have been granted the privilege of being featured on a blog not my own! Sally Cronin of Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life has posted my “Scenery” poem, as well as links to me around the web, and we have already gotten several favorable responses! Will this improve my visibility? Time will tell. I am hoping for a bit more exposure, and this could be the beginning of that path to getting a bigger fan base. I’m not even sure if I have a little one now. If you are here by following the link posted either there or on a re-blog elsewhere, I invite you to look around, see what else I have to offer. Head over to one of my blogs, and see there, too. I can tell you two things; First, the blog for the Velah is still very raw. I haven’t spent a lot of time on it as yet. Second, on my BarbarianWriter blog, I have tried to offer helpful links geared toward the newbie writer, and even have a section for movie reviews. So, a very big THANKS to any and all new visitors! Welcome, and I would love for you to take a moment from your busy day to see what else I have posted. Have a great day, may all the best things in life find their way to your life!   As always, #WriteOn! — John

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Facebook Post

Post by John T. M. Herres. Well, that didn’t go as planned. When I saw the option to imbed a Facebook post, I naturally clicked it to see what it would do. It gave me a code to paste into a webpage, thus this post. If you wish to know before you go, I posted an excerpt of “The Barbarian” written recently. It’s about the Wizard Able facing the despotic group known as The Chosen Ones, who have roamed the Frozen Wastes in the North much the same as the Shandan Nomads have terrorized the Shandan Desert. It depicts how the Wizard uses his Power, as well as some of the effects on him from using it. That’s what I’m hoping I’ve relayed, anyway. I would love to know what you think! Give me a comment here or there, if you please, and let me know if my attempt to entertain you has been successful. Until next time: #WRITE-ON!

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Science Fiction Story

I come to you today to offer a glimpse into my Science Fiction story, “Challenge Of The Velah”. I began this before I started writing what has now become the second part of “The Barbarian” (Titled at that time “Barbarian Tales”). When I got a reader who became interested in what came next, I wrote more. At this point, I only have about 17,000 words. If, after this reading, you wish to see more, comment below and leave me an email address so I can send it to you in its entirety. At least, what I have done so far.   Challenge of The Velah By John T. M. Herres       Chapter 1 One day, as I stumbled upon a clearing, I found, surprising as it may have been, a much-desired resting place for my weary bones. See, I had been wandering the dense forest for so long, sleeping in the underbrush for only moments at a time, occasionally climbing a tree and resting in the boughs; running in some places, walking in others, and even crawling through the thicker areas, trying to get away from something, everything, nothing. I had forgotten the exact reason I began my trek, knew only that I must keep going, keep moving, not stop for too long a time at all. However, in that clearing, I felt an ease in the urgency to soldier on, a veritable lifting of the imaginary weight on my shoulders, and found I may actually have just…

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The Barbarian, continued

Chapter 2 A month after the groups were reunited, Shelar bore forth a son. The couple were immensely proud, naming the newborn Senus, meaning “serenity in the midst of chaos”. A stoic child, Senus rarely cried; rather, grunts and one syllable utterances relayed his hunger or any other need. Six months passed. All the families working together had completed their little underground village. One morning, Thelis went out to draw water from the well. When he didn’t return, Rangor sent Kentur to find him. A yell from the courtyard brought all the men forward, each having drawn their weapons. “Father, no!” Kentur tried to warn them before they emerged, but to no avail. One by one, arrows pierced them as they emerged. *      *       *       *       *       * The Nomads had been moving across the sands, double file at a leisurely pace, and were surprised when the scouting slave came running back to inform them of the evidence of a small populace. They’d spurred on, and the slave led them to the edge of the large sunken courtyard. A young man came out of the opening on the south wall, but a quick thinking archer silenced him before he could alert any who could be inside. Of the 50 men, fifteen archers positioned themselves at the rim while seven descended into the excavation. Another youth emerged and was captured, but not before he could call for help. Upon hearing the commotion from inside, followed by the distinctive clang of weapons…

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The Barbarian, By John T. M. Herres

Chapter 1 The yellow sands of the Shandan Desert stretched from horizon to horizon, desolate and bleak. The hot, arid wind seemed always from the south, sometimes easing the grains of sand across the dunes, but more often hurling them with enough force to feel like tiny pins pricking incessantly at any exposed skin. Five figures moved through the nothingness that surrounded them. The three mules they led forged along, heads lowered, not even willing to voice protest with the granules so abundant. Each beast bore supplies and equipment for the task the men had planned, and each bundle had grey and brown hides covering them. The lead man, wrapped in dingy, white robes adorned with dull red accents, abruptly stopped and fell to his knees, then laid his hands to the scorching ground. His magic had not all been taken away by the forces of the Red Griffin. As he clenched the granules in his fists, another approached and spoke the first words any had uttered in days. “Tambur, is this the place?” They had been traveling due east for two weeks, waiting for some sign to tell them their search was finished. “Yes, my brother. I sense it.” His eyes still closed, Tambur held out his hand to receive a wooden spade. The three younger men, who had been waiting away from them, rushed forward to help begin the digging. “We must scoop out the sand eight feet down and twenty feet wide,” Tambur told them. “There, we…

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