Sunday, 25 April 2010

#9 Scrap Heap Challenge

Glancing up, he could see the gleaming city in the distance. His head went down again as he sifted through the refuse pile and to Azrael's delight, he uncovered the tangled strands of a length of copper wire. A happy find, two or three days good eating at least. He tore and clawed at the surrounding detritus and his lean, sunburned body twisted with the effort. Then the heap finally gave up its treasure and he laughed and danced, holding up his trophy to the the city. It was dying, lights growing dimmer as its power petered out. One day, maybe one day soon, the lights would go out forever and they too, the ones who lived there, would have to crawl through oceans of their own waste to survive. Azrael smiled, he would show them the way.

Sunday, 11 April 2010

#8 Remote Control

Your day’s work is over and you drive home through the drowsy warmth of a suburban evening, at peace. When people ask what you do, your lies are well polished, the practiced deceptions of a surrogate warrior.
You’re simultaneously on the front line and three thousand miles away, an invisible predator hanging over the battlefield like a charnel raven. As you seek out new targets, your practised hands flicker over the controls effortlessly, man and machine in harmonious alignment. Sometimes you wonder if those heat signatures, those IR outlines, had lives before you reduced them to ashes. But then the training takes over and you see only threats, tangos, bogies. It doesn’t keep you awake at nights. Not very often.

Sunday, 4 April 2010

# 7 Insurance

It is a generally considered a wise precaution when undertaking any new job to open a private file detailing exactly where the business is burying the bodies required to succeed in the modern cut throat world of commerce. Less wise is to store that file somewhere it can - even accidently - be found, especially if your employer is actually in the business of burying bodies.