Khisara’s Last Walk
Never before had Khisara witnessed such splendour. Even in her distressed state the Great Hall made her marvel in utter awe. One hundred and twenty cubits the numberless columns reached into the air, and upon entering the hall, one’s eye could not fathom its far end. The palace guards marched her along, keeping the chain to her high gold collar free of slack, but felt no need or inclination to drag at it. Whither could she flee? How could she form the mere concept of defiance in such overwhelming manifestation of unquestioned power? Continue reading
On several occasions I have wondered how unique or generic my literary ideas are, and today it is time for it again. A couple of weeks ago I finished reading a book which sported several scenes resembling those descript in a story of mine (all in the same chapter, actually). To make this absolutely clear right from the start: I do not believe that the author has read my story and taken notes. And even if, it would not be plagiarism in any way, nor would I be pissed off – quite to the contrary. I would be intrigued by the rather absurd idea that somebody drew inspiration from my writing. However, since this is in all likeliness not the case, I am left in awe of the uncanny resemblance of scenes written separately by two different authors. Continue reading
The Hour of the Horse
The turmoil that ripped me out of my sleep was absolute. Yelling and shouting everywhere. Infernal noise. The barrack lights going on and out again, as far as the neon tubes could cope. On and out. On and out. I hadn’t got the slightest idea of what was going on or how late or early it was. Men were storming in, kicking against the steel bed frames. They thundered stroke after stroke down on the startled occupants, literally whipping them out of their bunks. After another staccato the lamps stayed dark, but our nocturnal intruders keep switching their torches on and off, flashing in our faces, blinding us. From all directions came the eldritch crackling and white-blue arcs from spark sticks being set off in the air. Continue reading
No sooner had I finished my reading than Sixteen materialised next to my bunk. She turned her bleach-blond haired head left and right, as to make sure she would not be overheard.
“I think they put stuff in our food.”
I made the fatal error of humouring her:
Oooh, stuff…! I sat up on the bunk edge.
“Mind expanding on this a bit?” Continue reading
During the second-to-last chapter of Pony Boot Camp I stumbled across a problem I had solved for myself long ago (or so I thought): the – partly blurry – difference between “row” and “line” in the sense of spatial arrangement.
“So it came to pass that Fifteen found her slender self harnessed to the first sulky in line. Consequently it was first in row as we were trotting along the main road south of the camp.”
Although colloquially interchangeable in my native language, too, I apply the following rules to it:
- “Reihe” describes the formation of objects or beings positioned one behind the other.
- “Linie” describes the formation of objects or beings positioned one next to the other.