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My father’s writing

September 17, 2012

I last posted about the death of my father and how I hoped to finish stories he had started. Over the past year, he and I had had long phone conversations about our story ideas, and he was trying to get all his out so we could finish them together. Last week, I tried to look through his papers… and realized it’s not time yet. But I have the urge to at least share a little of him with others, so here is the start to one of the stories (unfortunately, only two chapters, but at least he did half an outline!).

Excerpt from “Eden’s End”

The Director settled his silver-clad form into the contoured confines of the master control chair. A quick glance of his ice-gray eyes across the length of the control board assured him that all systems were functioning according to his program. Apparently nonchalant, he crossed his legs and elevated the footrest of the chair, allowing his body to relax.

The Director was the embodiment of human perfection. His wlel-formed head was topped by a wave of metallic colored hair. The high, intelligent forehead and firm brow offset the cold steel eyes, which seemed to pierce through whatever they allowed their gaze to look upon. The smooth face had a slight, mystical smile that never faded, and a not-too-firm not-so-soft chin. This regal head was supported atop a body which conveyed an aura of controlled power within its every move, in spite of its smooth contours.

He possessed the ultimate authority. He reigned supreme in his realm, unquestioned by man and machine alike. He had a single, solitary purpose in life; he lived only to command, and he would die when this purpose had been carried out.

This meant nothing to the Director. It was his destiny, and he was fully aware of it, for he had been brought into being to serve in this way. Death held no fears for him, and it could not, because he could not truly die. He could not truly die for, after all, he had never truly lived.


From → Books, Writing

  1. forgingshadows permalink

    This is an amazing undertaking you’re writing about. I greatly admire your strength and courage, and look forward to reading more about your journey.

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