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Saturday, Jun. 1, 2024

1:20pm EDT

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Just Be There Blog

by DyrHearte writes

Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing.Com · #388967

Daily notes and timed freewrites but mostly my blog

All comments are encouraged, I am interested in what others think and feel along the topics I choose to write about.

Highlighted entries:

[#732826] "In Memory"

Thank-you geja8856 for this wonderful gift

Half Borgevna and half Morivini and destined to save her world.

Show Recent Comments

10 Most Recent Blog Comments:

Writer_Mike

Jun 9, 2020 at 4:19pm
In response to "Remember "Tricky Dicky"?"

I don't remember Mr. Nixon well, as I was just a teenager not particularly interested in politics, but I was sitting in my barracks room about 5 miles away from the Oval Office when he resigned. It was a very strange time and strange feeling. The last time I "lost" a President in office was when JFK was assassinated. Nixon's resignation wasn't at all the same scenario, but something had still gone very wrong.

DyrHearte writes

Dec 13, 2019 at 2:27am
In response to "snow, shoveling, scraping off car, wet, slippery snow"

Yes, shoveling, comes with the wet white. I see that it's snowing again a bit. So maybe we will have this around for a while

DyrHearte writes

Dec 13, 2019 at 1:36am
In response to "snow, shoveling, scraping off car, wet, slippery snow"

Yes, shoveling, comes with the wet white. I see that it's snowing again a bit. So maybe we will have this around for a while

MichelleWriteMeow

Dec 11, 2019 at 7:45pm
In response to "snow, shoveling, scraping off car, wet, slippery snow"

I sat down to work on something late last night, and between midnight and 2 a.m. -- I finally looked up to realize there was snow outside. And it kept snowing and snowing. It warmed up a bit but I sort of hope it stays, too. We had that one weird storm in October (they didn't close campus but I was absolutely late for class), and then nothing since! I drove back from a neighboring city last night and got lucky: all I encountered was fog. Now I'm waiting to hear if I have to shovel that sidewalk all the way around the side of the house...

DyrHearte writes

Sep 3, 2019 at 12:30am
In response to "Rescue"

I visit often, but I haven't written for a long while. Today my muse was frisky

1 Like

🌕 HuntersMoon

Sep 3, 2019 at 12:13am
In response to "Rescue"

Where ya been? Miss seeing you around. Reads well.

DyrHearte writes

Jul 2, 2018 at 11:45am
In response to "Fortune Cookie Wisdom"

Nah, I'll take the soft pretzel with mustard. Good to see you Ken

1 Like

🌕 HuntersMoon

Jul 1, 2018 at 10:09pm
In response to "Fortune Cookie Wisdom"

Glad to see you back and posting something. 😃 First of all, it's from a fortune cookie! 😜 Let me interpret it for you:

Live for today - Eat the damn cookie.
Remember yesterday - You were hungry for something sweet.
Plan for tomorrow - Yuk - this tastes like cardboard. Maybe I'll go with a cupcake!

😂 🤣 Ken

🌕 HuntersMoon

May 30, 2017 at 9:07pm
In response to "Creativity Agenda"

Now you've got it!

Remember, write first for yourself. Who cares if anyone else likes it? That's not why we write. Just remember what Robert Frost said: "Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." Yes, it's that's simple

Ken

DyrHearte writes

May 29, 2017 at 1:37pm
In response to "climate differences"

Sad to say that time isn't my problem. Whenever I had that urge to get something down on paper, I've always made the time to do it. Writer's block isn't related to having the time to write; for me, my internal environment isn't correlated to getting creative. Don't know why, as soon as I figure it out I know I can get my books back on track. Somewhere, when my relationship stopped, my self confidence, or self friendship got all messed up and the energy required to complete my dream went away. I've had all the time I've ever needed to finish all four of my books...I've not had the creative energy to finish them.

With this move back into a peopled world where I can sink or swim on an emotionally caring level, I hope to rebuild my confidence in my talents again. I think that is the key to my creative energies. I'm hoping so, because nothing else has worked these last many years.

January 8, 2017 at 2:10pm

#901663

A scene...

Running toward the sound; Iron on bronze. Can't mistake the ring of sword hitting sword. The technology is off balanced but the skill of the swordsmen seem equal. Must hurry. I draw my own iron and smell the fresh honing oil. Grunts of effort are now following the clang of swords. Someone is desperate to end the match. The sounds of battle are closer but I can't see who fights. I slow my approach and peer around the corner of the doorway. In the gloom of smoky lantern light I must see who struggles and who commands the moment.

A man in bright armor parries the heavy bronze stroke of a skin clad barbarian. He is pushed back with each ponderous stroke. It is the armored man who wheezes and grunts with each effort to avoid the crushing damage of that massive blade.

I step into the room, my iron ready. The barbarian's back is to me. I must move quickly and strike while surprise is my advantage. The paladin deflects another blow and is pushed backwards against the wall. His eyes stay on his attacker and do not give away my approach. One, two, three steps, swing low and slash at the back of the bend in the huge legs. My blade cuts clean. A leg is severed and the barbarian screams in rage and shock. I stand frozen by what I've done. The bronze claymore clatters to the wooden floor. The barbarian falls and rolls upon the floor grabbing at his bleeding stump with powerful hands. I hear his cries change to a sob cut short. I blink as an iron sword cleaves his shaggy head from shoulders. I feel the splatter of arterial blood soak my breeches.

"Thank you for getting here when you did." The paladin speaks in panting breaths. I turn from him as he sags to the floor in exhaustion and relief.

The eyes of the severed head recognized me and labeled me traitor before the light of intelligence dimmed into death. My insides quiver with my own shock and I wipe the blood of battle from my blade.

"The price of this battle is still to be paid." My voice quivers uncharacteristically and the paladin opens his mouth to question my statement, but I turn from the room and walk speedily from whence I came.

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