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Ive read a few and they're awesome Mylo! How about: Spy.

     
what was that! Oh my God! My whole body was shivering and chills raced down my spine shooting out my toes like bolts of electricity! Your story for dissonance was amazing. The total war and fear felt by those who lived and died in that short amount of time. I was ignoring people talking to me in the IRC and Skype so I could just read one more line. Just one more line. One more... Then it, ended... I want to read the whole novel that this small piece was obviously pulled from. Seriously, there must be a whole novel out of this! Ive gotta buy that thing! This was extremely good. Some of the best writing I have seen here. Seriously, I cant even find the words to congratulate you!

Thanks for taking my advice and starting a short story challenge of your own. And Thanks for allowing my eyes to fall humbly upon the words your mind formed. This was an amazing story, and I loved it. Also, its not that bloody. That's just my opinion, but this was rather tame for war. Great job.


I dont believe I have posted a new word after Junker, so let me think of another one for you. How about one of my favorite words to read in literature, what about Materialize. I am interested in what you could write about for materialize.

Your interpretation of the word "dissonance" is markedly different than my own perception of the term (most notably, I was surprised to see a wartime theme in the result).  Having said that, you pulled off the theme excellently; the story had an irresistibly strong hook, and expressed the concept of dissonance in the myriad of related details you included.

I have another word (or, rather, your choice of a word, since I couldn't decide between two) to append to your queue.  You might be familiar with these words if you've taken a computational theory class.  Try either "determinism" or "nondeterminism".  The latter is easiest to define as an opposite of the former, but this isn't *quite* accurate.  The many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics is an easy to cite example of nondeterminism.

[Yukon]

Old Rabbit: With this story, I wanted to capture the fear of being in the battlefield. It's difficult to imagine unless you've seen it for yourself, and really, I can't imagine what it would be like to be in this situation, where there is too much going on and you need both luck and skill to survive...

Carter: Thanks for reading these stories I'm glad you liked them.

Jet: I don't even know what to say to your comments other than thank you.   I'm so glad you really connected with this one, and in the future, I would like to expand this story so that I can explore more of the themes. It didn't come from a novel, though...originally I thought of the dissonance of a soldier killing civilians in war, but then, I wanted to explore the dissonance of a horrified soldier who didn't know what he was getting into, the dissonance of choosing between his own life and the lives of his fellow soldiers. Again, thanks for starting the short story thread and inspiring me to do one of my own! I haven't written since last year, so it's really awesome to be writing again and with other people. There is so much activity in the writing forum now!

RedYoshi: I'd actually like to know what you had in mind for dissonance. These new words seem very interesting...I find that the more stories I write, the more I have to go to the Internet to research the various things I write about. Interesting how you gave me two words to choose from as well; I'll have to do some considerable research when I get to your word(s).

Ok, How about trying this word:  Yukon

This word was pretty tough to come up with a story for since the word was so specific. But anyways, here's the story for Yukon.  Next up is pack.

White pines. Matte sky. Permafrost.
Among the thick snow, an arctic fox crawled briskly searching for his meal.  The air was still.  He camouflaged with the snow with his rather dense coat of white fur; his black eyes were his only feature that stood out amongst the terrain. Quiet. The fox would walk a few feet, then stop, then repeat. Every now and then, he'd turn his head around and perk his ears up because of a stray sound; perhaps some snow or a branch had fallen, or maybe the breeze would blow. The fox hadn't found food that day, and the sky was already dimming. He continued his search.
Suddenly, he stopped cold. He was like stone, the only movement evident in his ears. This was not snow falling; this was his next meal, and he knew exactly where it was. He quickly and quietly zoned in on where the sound was coming from, unbeknownst to his prey, and weaved through the pines, whose needles laced the ground. The white fox climbed up a small hill and slowed down, quietly looking over. Down in the crevice below the hill, a fire was going out, emitting small crackling sounds now and then. The fox was puzzled, but realized that what he heard was not his food, but this small fire. There had been more and more of those fires in the mountains lately.
The fox went up to examine the fire, which had almost ceased offering a usable warmth. It crackled, and the fox became startled and lost interest in the fire.  He retraced his steps, looked back, then moved on to continue his hunt, the routine walk through the snow and the pines. But little did he know that the fire had been created by a human, a human who had seen the arctic fox scurrying away from the dying fire. The human was also on a hunt, not for gold like he had been for the entirety of that year, but for food. He was on the long journey home, a failure, back to the mundanities of his former life. But if he was to survive the journey, he needed to kill the fox before it could escape from him.
So, he took out his gun and aimed at the fox. Upon cocking it, the fox stopped in his tracks, his ears perked up, and he turned around staring straight at where the man was kneeling. His beard had greyed considerably since he arrived in the north. He aimed again, matching the notches on the barrel to the fox's torso. The fox didn't know what the man was doing, but he was apprehensive; he could sense that the man could see him. The man inhaled. The fox turned his head towards another sound among the pines. His tail twitched. Then, the man blew through his mouth and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired, emitting a sound that shook the snow from the tree above the man, and sending a bullet straight through the fox's chest. The fox was propelled backwards a few inches and landed in the snow. His black eyes and his blood stood out amongst the snow, red amongst white, the sky darkening to a dull grey. The man got up to gather the fox, so that he could live another day among the permafrost and continue his long journey home.

RedYoshi: I'd actually like to know what you had in mind for dissonance. These new words seem very interesting...I find that the more stories I write, the more I have to go to the Internet to research the various things I write about. Interesting how you gave me two words to choose from as well; I'll have to do some considerable research when I get to your word(s).

A large part of the answer to the first question is something I talked about on the IRC several months ago. Below is a quote of the beginning of that conversation (things said by others irrelevant to this point have been edited out):

(8:50:26 PM) ***Hiiro wonders if the Yoshi can shoot magic blasty thingies at stuff and blow it up
(8:51:12 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: hiiro: no, quite the opposite
(8:56:16 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: hiiro, though I don' t necessarily have the best writing ability, I have an active imagination in some ways
(8:56:38 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: I' ve developed a magic system that I used to incorporate into RP characters on the forums a few years ago
(8:56:54 PM) ***Hiiro headtilts.
(8:57:18 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: under the system, a typical character would have 3 out of a total of 9 domains of abilities
(8:57:44 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: when I roleplayed as my fursona, I used rock, life, and water as the domains; this particular combo is that of an *extreme* pacifist
(8:57:57 PM) ***Hiiro sees
(8:58:16 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: those domains were the domains of protection/defense, empathy/healing, and zen/evasion, respectively
(8:58:24 PM) ***Hiiro would probably want something big and painful and fiery...and blunt.
(9:07:46 PM) ***Hiiro hands his brand spanking new giant flaming mallet to the yoshi
(9:07:54 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: ...
(9:08:05 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: ........
(9:08:32 PM) ***redyoshi49q|traveler notes that hiiro does not see
(9:09:14 PM) ***Hiiro supposes a mallet isn't too magical..
(9:09:24 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: ...
(9:09:26 PM) ***redyoshi49q|traveler eats the mallet
(9:09:45 PM) ***Hiiro ponders the other types of magic
(9:11:22 PM) ***Hiiro questions the Yoshi about the most violent magic
(9:11:49 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: hiiro: the domains are fire (influence/power), rock (protection/defense), water (zen/evasion/dexterity), life (empathy/healing), wind (initiative/agility), light (knowledge/convergent thinking), dark (dissonance/deceit/divergent thinking), and normal (endurance/perserverance)
(9:12:16 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: the most offensive combo is fire/wind/light
(9:13:28 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: ...apparently, I can' t count
(9:13:30 PM) redyoshi49q|traveler: 8 domains
(9:13:33 PM) ***redyoshi49q|traveler fails

Under the magic system, for a lack of a better name to call it, character personality and power were intrinsically intertwined.  The word I gave you is one that I would also use to best describe a Dark character's personality.  Generally speaking, this type of character...

• ...would rarely say what they mean.  They could be a natural liar, a habitual liar, sarcastic, snide, or several or all of the above.  They might even take sarcasm to an art form; for example, saying "I hate you, too." in response to someone saying "I love you.".
• ...would be unpredictable.  They tend toward a D&D chaotic style personality, and rarely act in a conventional or typical fashion.
• ...would be comfortable with playing roles and subtle deceit.  Some can put on a metaphorical hat (disguise, persona, etc.) as easily as one would put on a physical hat, and others, even when being technically truthful, can oftentimes dance around "the whole truth" much like the elves from the Inheritance cycle when speaking in Elven.  On the other hand, some are able to tell when somebody else is doing the same.

As you can see, "dissonant" is a very good descriptor for such a character.  What you've written is different from this, but no less valid; dissonant is a complex term with a lot of sides and possible perceptions to it.

It's also worth noting that the first two terms I gave to Jet and Metalhead Mockingbird were descriptors of Normal and Fire, respectively.  I chose those three domains over the others since I felt that the terms I used to describe those were more accurate embodiments of the concepts I wished to express through the corresponding domains than some of the others (for example, the ones I list for Wind are exceptionally weak, and the ones for Rock a a bit imprecise as well).

Also, my inspiration for the second word I gave you was a theoretical construct from my computational theory class called a Nondeterministic Turing Machine.  I didn't want to choose just "nondeterminism" and risk possibly forcing undue difficulty on you.  I also didn't want to choose just "determinism"; though the word has much better definitions available, I felt it might have been a limiting term to choose if it turns out the concept isn't one you were interested in writing about (imagine a strong believer in free will having to do this exercise on the word "destiny" and you have a notion of my concern).

Ok on the experience of warfare.  It's a terrible thing that
I wish no one need experience..

Here is another word.. "Fodder"

[pack]

Here is the story for pack.  I've really neglected this thread over the past few days, but I'm still working at it, and will eventually finish my current que.   

“I’m leaving.”
My mother was on the verge of crying as she spoke those words, but I remembered that she had dropped my brother off at a movie, and so I inferred that she meant that she was leaving to pick him up. 
“Did he call you?” I asked, trying to forget the shouting in the other room.  I had been packing my old clothes and valuables for storage in the attic.
“No,” she began.  “I’m leaving.  Are you coming with me?”  She was choking on her words, and at that time I knew.  “I can’t take it anymore.”
I dropped what I was doing, and stormed off down the hallway, looking for my father.  I finally wanted to tell him what I felt, after holding it in for so long.  “Stop it!” I wanted to shout.  “Just stop it!  Can’t you just stop and think for a minute, and see things from someone else’s perspective!”  I was so angry as I walked to the door, assuming he was outside.  I opened it, and walked into the humidity bare foot, looking calmly but briskly for my father.  I noticed my neighbor, watering her plants trying to avoid eye contact with me (or so I thought).  I walked to the front of the house looking at every crevice and behind every tree…no sign of him.  I turned around and walked to the back of the house.  I checked to see if the back door was opened.  It was closed, and still no sign of my father. 
I quickened my pace and went back to the garage…I had neglected to check the side of the house, but that was covered in plants that weren’t very compatible with bare feet.  So, I went back to the garage, slapped on a pair of flip flops, and walked to the last place I needed to check.  My legs felt numb at this point, and I was extremely anxious, and angry.  Emotions flooded my mind like never before as I took those final steps around the corner, waiting to see his face, waiting to shout.  I pictured my mother’s face.
No one there.  “Where the heck is he?” I thought, hitting the wall of the house.  I stormed back to the house again, back to the garage, where I stood by the refrigerator breathing in and out, in and out.  Suddenly, the door behind me opened and my father stepped out and looked me in the eye, with an expression of anger.  He asked, “What are you doing?”
I asked him with a hint of anger in my tone, “What are you doing?”
And then he shook his head and sat down below me on the step and told me to go inside and to leave him alone.  He put his face in his hands and sat there, pensive, quiet, waiting for something, or thinking of something.  He exhaled.  All of my initial intentions had been shot away, and my legs felt like they were going to give out.  So, I walked inside, and continued packing my things; each one had a memory, some memories that I hadn’t remembered until now.  Then I heard the door open, my father walk inside, and my mother walk to him.  Then I heard shouting, and I laid down on the ground and stared at the ceiling, breathing in and out. 


Next is spy.

Gerbil

[materialize]

Ive read a few and they're awesome Mylo! How about: Spy.

Slowly but surely, I will get through this queue.  The next word is materialize, and here is the story for spy...

     This kind of stuff happened all the time.  Some idealist scientist(s) would create something before my employer's R&D division, the real one of course, the one so closely connected to the not-so-public Future Intellectual Property Collection division, and I (an agent for FIPC (pronounced fy-pec)) would be sent out to “acquire” it.  Anything that threatened my employer, or would make them more wealthy, or as they put it, technologically advanced and prepared for the modern age, would have to be acquired and the original creators subject to intense memory falsification to prevent the nasty lawsuits that only gave my employer bad publicity (since they would win either way). 
     My job was to infiltrate Mansfield Lab and steal a sizable amount of data from one of the drives not connected to the Internet (otherwise, we would have had it already). 
     That night, I knelt in the bushes surrounding the white complex with black windows that reflected the fluorescent street lamps lining the empty cargo passageways.  I waited for the signal on my pocket communicator...I was a few seconds early, so I took the time to further scan the area.  No guards...this lab, like so many others, had fallen for my employer's trap by installing my employer's own automated security systems, patent pending.  My com flashed a dull red...the cameras and security systems were down, and the back door was supposedly open.  I ran down the hill to that door; sure enough, it was unlocked.  Missions like these were time-sensitive, of course, so I briskly walked through the white hallways looking for my next point of interest.
     Stairwell...stairwell.  Aha!  Just like in the maps I studied.  Always like in the maps I studied.  I opened the door and ran up to the third level; my employer briefed me that after I exited the stairwell into the third level main hallway, I'd be on my own trying to locate the data.  Of course, this data was substantially large (meaning the computer holding it would be equally large and noticeable), and my employer had given me an experimental patent pending hyperdrive, a device that could interface with a port on the mainframe and download information at an incredibly fast rate, most often destroying the port in the process.  Basically, a super fast jump drive with a direct satellite uplink to a multi-petabyte drive floating above the lab in space, bearing my employer's logo.
     Three.  Two.  One.
     I opened the door into the hallway...there was another security system protecting this lab, one out of my employer's reach.  Simple really...just some cameras.  They really should have installed some trip lasers, at least.  I took out my pocket laser and shined it on the cameras, obscuring their view.  The laser was attached to a small apparatus that allowed the laser to constantly point at the target, even when I moved.  There was only one camera per hallway, so all I had to do was block it long enough so that I could get to the camera and pull out the video wire myself.  I had done this kind of job too many times, and by the time anyone noticed that the video link was gone, I'd be on my way to collect my paycheck.
     I walked around the hallway to a door that seemed to overpower all the other doors.  Here it is.  It was a bioprint door, but it looked like I needed some kind of card key.  I took out my muticard, put it into the slot, and ran a program on my com (which I had connected to the card).  The card swipe was read, and the light on the reader turned green.  The bioprint would be a bit more difficult, but luckily, my employers had paid everyone off (which meant that the janitors were probably asleep at home).  I took out my print scanner, waved it over the door handle, and an image appeared on my com (which I had also connected).  Several prints...I'd have to wait a bit for the computer to algorithmically separate the overlapping prints.  I tried peaking through the window, but it was too dark inside. 
     Complete.  The scanner detected the thumb print; on the reverse side, self-molding silicone formed effortlessly into that thumb print (like someone was pressing their own thumb through a balloon), which I subsequently pressed onto the bioprint.  It flashed green, I heard a click, and I pushed the door open.
     I jumped back. 
     Inside, there was a women standing next to the glowing tower in the center of the room; she had removed a device from a port in the tower but then stared at me for a second before asking, “Who are you?” 
     I didn't know what to say...I was stunned to see someone here at this hour of night; I thought I was alone.  I took out my pistol; she hesitated, then put the hyperdrive in her pocket and began to walk out of the door. 
     “You don't work for...for...”
     “Oh John...I'd thought you'd known by now.”  I lowered my pistol and remembered this familiar face.  “Everyone works for Mega Corporation.”

Nothing like a unexpected ending.    Nicely written Mylo.

[spy]

And now to clean off the dust from this... *blows dust away from neglecting this thread for nearly a month*

How about one of my favorite words to read in literature, what about Materialize. I am interested in what you could write about for materialize.

This story is a continuation of my previous story for spy.  Next up is either determinism or nondeterminism...still haven't decided which one.  But until then, enjoy the story for materialize!

William Mansfield pulled open his drawers and grabbed any article of clothing he could lay his hands on.  A droplet of sweat dripped onto one of his dress shirts, and he consequently wiped his face with his forearm.  It was the dead of night; Mansfield had received a cautionary alarm, alerting him of a break in at his lab.  This was no doubt the work of Mega, he thought.  Luckily, he had completely corrupted the data back in the lab…his work was not on holographic drives, but rather, in the drive he was holding in his hand…and in the very neurons in his head.
Mansfield took his suitcase stuffed with clothes and ran to his car, failing to shut the door to his house behind him.  He didn’t notice, nor did he care; Mega could be here any minute now, he thought.  He started his car, an older model from the early 2000’s with no antenna to the Internet.  He drove out of his driveway very rashly and took the roads to the interstate and eventually the airport.  Anywhere but here.  Anywhere but here.
He knew of the treacherousness of Mega, how scientists would go to sleep one day only to wake up with their minds brainwashed.  The rumors.  He had constructed this plan for this very situation.  Pulling up to the parking lot, he tried to differentiate between the airplanes and the stars in the yellow sky (a consequence of the vast amount of light pollution).  He briskly walked to his terminal, dragging the heavy suitcase, but then…his stomach sank.  Five Mega agents were standing in front of the doorway.  He stopped in his tracks and shut his eyes for a minute to relax.  He had practiced before…
He opened them and the agents were on the ground, seemingly asleep.  He walked over them and into the terminal…looking behind, he saw that the police had taken notice (they were also emblazoned with the Mega Corporation logo).  Paying for his tickets up front, he took the plastic paper and walked to the security checkpoint.  Another obstacle, but this time he was ready.  He went into the bathroom, shut his eyes, and opened them again. 
“What the hell?” yelled a guy.  He opened his eyes and saw a man sitting on a toilet in the same stall as he was.  “What the…”  Before the man could say another word, Mansfield punched him quickly and then touched his head.  The man on the toilet went unconscious.  Walking out of the stall, he confirmed that he was in his gate (past the security checkpoint) and proceeded to walk to his terminal, but he realized he had not yet materialized his suitcase.
“That’s enough,” said a voice. 
Mansfield stopped and looked around.  The people in the terminal were gone.  The windows were black.  Then the lights dimmed and his vision blurred.  And finally, he discovered that he was wearing what seemed like a suit of wires, with a helmet that obscured his vision.  He proceeded to remove the helmet, and looked upon a small room with a score of scientists around him. 
“We saw you do it!” said one of the younger looking scientists.  He had black hair and pale skin, and a set of angular glasses that obstructed his eyes because of the glare.  “You did it in your induced dream, and we saw you produce it for us!”
Mansfield looked around the room very confused.  “I don’t…I don’t…”
The scientist pointed to the left of Mansfield.  Sitting on the ground was a suitcase, just like the one Mansfield had packed in his dream.  “My suitcase…”
“You materialized it right now!  It appeared here…you’re making progress with us.  Please, Mansfield, we know you can do this for us.  But now we need you to take this to the next stage and materialize something…well…tangible, valuable…and do it consciously of course.”
Mansfield looked at his hands and touched his head…all covered in wires and probes.
“Otherwise, Mansfield…” said the scientist, thinking of his next step: putting Mansfield under the knife to reverse engineer his psychic technology. 
“I told you…” said Mansfield.  “I can’t do it like this…and I can’t remember what I’m doing or supposed to be doing when I’m in my dream.”
The scientist adjusted his glasses and shook his head.  “Disappointing,” he said.  “How very disappointing.” 
The Mega Corporation logo glowed on the main wire piercing into Mansfield’s powerful mind.  This was his thirteenth trial; one of the other scientists took the suitcase to the back, putting it with the twelve other suitcases that looked exactly alike.  The other scientists analyzed their data and began preparations for what was to come.     

I know what you mean by dust.

Nicely done with Materialize Mylo. This sounds like a strange story here. With him being lost in dream most the time, and being forced to materialize items with his mind. This could be expanded in a multitude of ways. This small piece, however, was well done and made me want to see if he actually manages to get something "tangible" to appear. It would also be interesting if he later on used this gift to escape or something.

I was trying to think of a word, but I am so terrible at choosing these things. I don't believe you have written on this word yet, so how about Isolation. It's about the only word I can think of at the moment, maybe because of my own current position. But I think several interesting stories can come of the word isolation, so I guess that's my word for you.

[determinism]

I have another word (or, rather, your choice of a word, since I couldn't decide between two) to append to your queue.  You might be familiar with these words if you've taken a computational theory class.  Try either "determinism" or "nondeterminism".  The latter is easiest to define as an opposite of the former, but this isn't *quite* accurate.  The many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics is an easy to cite example of nondeterminism.

Unfortunately, I haven't taken a computational theory class.  I liked the ideas of these two words, but I think this story best fits determinism.  It's very long compared to my other stories (due to details that really don't need to be in the story, but that I wanted to add for fun; I actually wanted to make it longer, but this is a short story thread ).  So, here goes:

Extreme individualism.  This was the root of popular culture in the late 21st century.  Atmo Dellik stood on the walkway, which carried him in a highlighted direction (augmented in his vision) to his work; he watched the various souls passing him above and below (for these walkways meshed throughout the entire city), looking at the sheer diversity in the crowd.  A woman with glossy skin and plastic hair.  A man entirely naked with the recently popular video tattoos painted all over his body.  A woman who had implants to make her shoulders appear pointed and her face flat, wearing clear plastic clothing with a glowing, animated designer logo on the left chest.  A man and woman kissing…they had been genetically modified to resemble wolves, except their fur was died with all the colors of the rainbow (and the patterns and colors changed every few seconds or so).  A woman jogging, her hair encased in a skull cap that was emblazoned with a video logo for Nike; her other articles of clothing also carried the animated logo. 
The walkway led Atmo to a lift that would take him up almost a thousand or so floors to the lab.  On the way up, he was bombarded with the usual advertisements. 
You are something…else.  Inside.  A video showed a man morphing into a lion.  Become what you are.  Then, the Evolon Corporation logo appeared in mid-air, and a voice enunciated the government- mandated warning of the risks associated with genetic modification.  Another advertisement came on.  It showed a couple of half-naked males dancing in a VR club.  One of them took off their augmented reality headset, sat down, and pulled out a bottle of Coca Cola, in a nostalgic black metal bottle.  He sipped it and smiled.  Atmo suddenly had a craving for Coca Cola…it was common for advertisements to do this to their demographic.  He tried to look past the holographic advertisements, but they suddenly changed so that they remained in focus to Atmo’s eyes.  He sighed and turned around.  The lift stopped at floor 987.  Atmo revealed his eyes from behind his headset; they were subsequently scanned and the door was opened. 
“Mr. Dellik,” said one of the men in the room. 
“Mr. Zololoa,” said Atmo, shaking hands with Fenway Zololoa as he stepped off the lift and walked for himself.  Fenway was the head of this project. 
“Now that everyone is here,” said Fenway.  “Well, I’m afraid there’s no more punch for you Mr. Dellik.”
The other people in the room started to laugh in unison.  Atmo laughed along with them.  “Nah, I think I’ll have a Coke after the meeting’s done.”
Fenway chuckled.  “Anyways,” he said.  “As you all know, our team has been working anxiously, persistently, and vivaciously on our Project Point-of-Origin.  Years of planning, circuit design, programming, studies…not to mention a whole lot of Coke and money.”
The team reacted to Fenway’s cue of humor and laughed in unison again. 
“Yes, Coke and money,” said Fenway.  “Now please, a special round of applause for our patron, Ms. Delika Howard.”  He motioned towards a very old woman sitting in the back of the room, sipping tea in a crystal cup.  She smiled, further wrinkling here already wrinkled face, and then nodded to Fenway as the team applauded. 
“I’m glad you were able to be with us today Ms. Howard,” said Fenway.  “That flight from New Shanghai must have lasted a couple hours.  But now…” he put his hands together.  “Let’s be serious.  Let me show you all what your thousands of hours and trillions of yun have bought you.  The production as you know cost more than half of this entire project, but it did not let down.  Now if you will please direct your attention to the back of the room.”
The crowd turned to face the back.  The outside windows dimmed and a glass window (darkened to hide what was behind it) faced them.  Atmo was very anxious to see the project he had been working on for so long. 
“Humans have a natural desire to discover,” began Fenway.  “It is in our DNA.  From the beginning of recorded history, it has been our ultimate goal to know.  Know the past.  Know the present.”  He paused.  “Know the future.  Ancient astronomers studied the heavens to know when it was going to rain, when winter was to come.  Physicists studied what we cannot see nor imagine to discover the meaning of our universe, and what is to come in the years and millennia.”
Atmo and a couple of the other team members chuckled to themselves at Fenway’s drama.  He continued to speak.
“But the ultimate question still eluded us.  How can we know the past, present, and future absolutely?  Years of research led to the obvious conclusion that we, as humans, are incapable of comprehending this.  We, as humans, have started to lose faith in our species.  We’re too limited in both physical and mental capacity, and the public knows this.  A lot of people dread being human because of these limitations, hence companies like Synthegene, Evolon, IQpacity, etc…  But that’s not what we’ve studied.  In fact, we took a whole new approach.  We’ve created a mind smarter than the score of humans who created it, who also were augmented themselves…more intelligent than the entirety of the human species, rather, the collection of sentient animals who’ve ever lived, and who will ever live.  My friends, it’s no laughing matter when you create a God.”
The team laughed softly.  Ms. Howard sipped her tea and smiled superficially.
“But we did,” said Fenway, who hadn’t laughed at his own remark.  “And this is our key to understanding…everything.”  He lifted both his hands up; the window at the back un-dimmed revealing a glass-like sphere suspended in mid-air.  Surrounding it were two cylindrical glass walls; a black, circular disk sat beneath the levitating orb, which was about a meter in diameter.
“The sphere is connected to an interface that is capable of connecting with the entirety of human knowledge online,” said Fenway.  “And now, we will see.”
He faced the sphere and held out both his arms again.  The sphere levitated slightly; the crowd was silent.  They watched the sphere glow all sorts of colors until it was a bright white, like the sun.  It grew whiter and whiter, and the windows compensated by dimming.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Fenway.  Atmo looked in amazement.  “Congratu—“
Immediately, Fenway’s mind was filled with thoughts.  He heard a voice.  “I am inside of you now.”  The voice sounded like a mix of every type of voice there was.  The sphere became whiter; the glass was almost completely darkened, but the sphere was in perfect view.  Atmo, as well as the rest of the team, heard the voice.
“I am inside of all of you now.”
And then it stopped using words.  Language was not necessary.  Fenway saw Atmo in his mind, as well as every other team member.  Atmo saw the same.  So did Ms. Howard, and the rest of the team.  They all began to know each other, feel each other, as if they were each other all at the same time.  They saw Fenway go into a room with Ms. Howard, at night, both smiling and drawing the blankets.  They say Ms. Howard coughing up blood.  Marcinii was born, and then he died falling off a walkway.  Paplidara was conversing with his daughter, and then a spy.  Atmo was staring at the Evolon advertisements…he longed to be a customer. 
They only saw each other.  The sphere had already determined the course of human history for the next hundred years, and was continuing to decipher the timeline, but this output merely grazed over the humans standing in the room.  Several separate streams of knowledge spewed out from the sphere, each a calculation of some particular aspect of the unknown world.  Within the next few minutes, every technological advancement, every war, every societal shift, every movement for the next thousand years was known.  Every thought had been calculated. 
“Um…” said Fenway.  “Is it working?” he said to one of the team members, a woman named Matsoka. 
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said.  “I must have spaced out for a second…let me check to see what it’s doing.”
Fenway looked back at the glowing orb.  “I must have spaced out as well.”  He tried to remember what had happened in the last few minutes, but they were blank.  The other team members looked around, all feeling as if they had lost focus, all unable to remember anything from the last few minutes.”
Atmo remembered the voice only, and everything after that was a blank.  He quickly justified it as his own voice inside his head…the team had not built a way to interface with it directly, mind to machine.  Matsoka confirmed that the sphere was in full operation, but they couldn’t understand why the data wasn’t being recorded on the millions of holographic storage drives underneath their feet in the hundreds of floors below them. 
“Hmmm…” said Fenway.  He grabbed a slender bottle of Coke from his pocket.  “Well, um…”
Ms. Howard smiled superficially.  She felt very weak all of the sudden, and tried to muster a few words.  She knew her time had come…for she was the only one in the room who remembered.  “I was under the impression that I would be among the first to see God before death Mr. Zololoa.”  She motioned to set down her glass with her shaky hand, but she missed the table as her vision left her, and collapsed to the ground.  The glass shattered on the floor, the shards reflecting the light of the sphere in many colors.           

The next word is: fodder. 

[gerbil]

Here is another word.. "Fodder"

And here is another story.  The next word is gerbil.

“Father?” asked Charlemagne, who was called Charlie.  He was a young boy, maybe twelve, with glassy eyes that reflected the massive airships in the distance. 
“Charlie,” said his father, an officer in His Majesty’s Royal Air Force. 
“But when shall you return to Atlantia?” said Charlie, who had already asked the question several times before.
“My son…” said his father with a smile on his face.  “I’ve told you a thousand times before that I’ll return no later than December of next year.”
“But father, that’s so far away.”
“I know Charlie,” said his father, whose wrist watch suddenly clicked repeatedly, indicating that it was time to leave.  “I know you’ll do well in the fine school His Majesty has so generously provided for you.  You’ll make a lot of friends, and I hope you’ll be happy.”
“But I don’t want you to go,” said Charlie, hugging his father’s legs.  “Why can’t you stay?”
“Oh Charlie,” said his father, bending down so he was at eye level with his son.  “Sometimes, Charlie, we have to do difficult things.  We all have to do things we don’t want to at some point.  But you see, it is our duty to pull through them, to take them head on and overcome them.  Charlie,” he said, placing his hand on his boy’s shoulder.  “You’ll have your own share of difficult things.  And right now, I need you to be strong.  I need you to be a man, and…and excel in your studies and make lots of friends, and enjoy yourself.” 
“But father,” said Charlie.
“Now’s not the time for any more chit chat, son.  Now I want you to get into that automobile.  You’ll be just fine, and so will I.  I’ll send you a parcel every now and then from the islands.”
Charlie looked down at his feet and at his father’s mechanical watch.  It had exhausted its alarm.  A tear then rolled from his eye.  His father tried to smile, but felt a lump in his throat. 
“Charlie,” he said with difficulty.  “I want…I want you to take this.” 
He took out a small notebook from his back pocket as well as a ball point pen; he ripped a few of the pages from the front of the book.
“I want you to write down what you do today and every day, Charlie, until I get back.  That way, I’ll be able to read about your various adventures when I return.”
A fellow Air Force officer called towards Charlie’s father. 
“And now it is time for me to depart…” said his father.
Charlie looked up at his father, into the same glassy eyes.  “I love you, father.”
Charlie’s father picked him up and kissed him on the forehead.  “I love you too, Charlie.”
Then, he put his son down and waited until Charlie boarded the automobile and shut the door.  He then waved, turned around, and boarded his own vehicle which would take him to his assigned airship that was destined to cross the ocean to the far away islands. 
Then a voice came on.
“The war is hard on all of us, and we must all do our part.  Support His Majesty and your Atlantia.”
Then the anthem of Atlantia played in the background accompanied by the white and gold; fodder for the people.   

[Transcendence]

  I really like the above story. I can't really explain it, it just gets to me in that right way, y'know?
Either way! You shall have no shortage of words! How about- Transcendence?

here's one for yah, sorta hard: overfamous? or unsanctionable?

Nicely done Mylo.  A touching goodbye of a father to his son. 

You probably won't run out of words, but here is another. "stampede"

[gerbil]

Gerbil

To those who've read my stories in this thread, thanks for keeping up with them!    For this story, I took a different approach and wrote a "news story" ala Onion News.  So if you are interested in this sort of thing, read on for the story for gerbil.

...

LOS ANGELES—Two days into the Electronic Entertainment Expo, the video game industry’s most popular trade show, Nintendo has unveiled their newest gaming console, the Wii Ball.  While some analysts have predicted the demise of dedicated video game consoles due to the popularity of smartphones and Angry Birds, Nintendo’s Reggie Fils-Aime is confident that this new console will keep the company relevant.
“We’ve acknowledged that there is a problem.  Our customers want to play video games, Nintendo video games, but they don’t have the time to play at home nor do they have the space in their pockets or purses for yet another device.  So we thought, how do we fix this problem?  The answer: Wii Ball.”

Wii Ball is essentially a white ball, seven feet in diameter.  The ball is designed so that a person can get inside it and walk around as the internal screens create a virtual world for the player to interact with, much like a gerbil walks in a hamster ball.  Nintendo Chief Executive Satoru Iwata discussed the Ball with us over video conference.

“We wanted to make a video game console for everybody, for all people of all ages.  That is why we created Wii Ball.  In fact, we prefer to think of it not as a console, but as a video game experience.  Life becomes a video game.  You can take the subway, drive a car; we are already in talks with major automobile manufacturers and government infrastructure departments in seven countries, including Japan, the United States, and Great Britain, so that they can accommodate for the increased size of the Wii Ball.  It is a new lifestyle that blurs the edge between home and portable gaming.”

According to Nintendo, the Wii Ball will be available by the holiday season, but the pricing is yet to be revealed.  However, Fils-Aime did detail several launch games and accessories for their upcoming console.

“We’ve listened to our customers, and we’ve got a surprise for you,” said Fils-Aime, during the conference.  “Wii Ball is launching with Super Mario Galaxy Land 3D as well as Wii Ball Sports, a totally new sports game where you are the ball.”  This was greeted with a large applause before Fils-Aime rose his hands again.  “And we’ll also be offering a host of new accessories specifically designed for the Wii Ball, including the Stair Climber Pro, for increased mobility, and the Classic Controller, for when you want to play games in a more traditional way.”

Nintendo didn’t have a prototype on display, but did show a CGI rendering of the Wii Ball coming out from a pool of milk in slow motion.

...

Next up is isolation.

[isolation]

I was trying to think of a word, but I am so terrible at choosing these things. I don't believe you have written on this word yet, so how about Isolation. It's about the only word I can think of at the moment, maybe because of my own current position. But I think several interesting stories can come of the word isolation, so I guess that's my word for you.

Often times I think about what the world would be like if there were more than one sapient species on Earth (just like most other furries I presume ).  Not about wars, but the difficulties of assimilation and cooperation...so here is the story for isolation:

...

“Mrs. Lee,” began the older woman in the room.  She wore thick glasses and a spotted dress, and spoke in a calm but cold tone to the concerned mother sitting across her desk.  “Ms. Lee, we have to discuss what to do about your son…”
Mrs. Lee, having gone through several of these conversations before with several different teachers, was well aware of this teacher’s dismay.  She was a strong-willed woman, more so when she was defending her child yet again.
“I’ve just about had at with him,” said the teacher.  “I do not mean to be offensive, but he is too much for this classroom.  He makes a mess with his hair, he’s very stubborn and disregards everything I tell him, he doesn’t get along well with the other students—“
“Oh Ms. Wan,” said Ms. Lee, flattening her dress with both hands.  “Am I to be put at fault for my son’s differences?  Ms. Wan, I told you at the beginning of the year that he was going to be a handful…he is with me, but he’s a good kid.”
“But Ms. Lee,” said the teacher.  “Today, my goodness, he turned around and started snarling at Lu Yan…I was afraid he was going to bite him or worse; I couldn’t get him to calm down.”
Ms. Lee sighed.  “I’m so sorry that happened, but I know Atka.  He’s a calm boy unless he’s been provoked.  You watch the kids in the classroom don’t you?”
“I most certainly do,” said the teacher with a stern look.
“Well then,” said Ms. Lee.  “You are bound to see them pick on him.  It’s sad really…and I simply want the best for my son…”
“I know Ms. Lee.”  Ms. Wan took hold of a pencil and twiddled it in her hands.  “But I cannot tolerate this kind of behavior in my classroom, even if provoked.  I want the best for all my students.”
Ms. Lee looked below Ms. Wan’s line of sight.  “I know you do…and I do everything I can at home with Atka, but I have no control over others’ thoughts.  I can’t stop them from pointing out everything, and frankly, I don’t know what to do.”
Lee Atka was from America, the desolate continent home to the pantheran species, the only other sapient species on earth besides humans.  Aside from their resemblance to the species of which they were named, the pantherans were not all that different from the humans of Asia and the East in their ability to walk and think similarly.  It was very rare for a human couple to adopt a pantheran, simply because of the accepted dogma that humans attest to humans and pantheran to pantheran.  But due to the gross poverty and the drought that plagued America for nearly a decade, the government had granted licenses to a few who were to adopt pantherans and raise and educate them in Guzhou, the most populous city in Asia; it was thought that this would help create relations that would allow humans access to the oil fields of northern America, since it had become too expensive to utilize the wells of the East. 
This experiment was met with extreme resistance by most of the Eastern natives, and tensions rose concerning the consequences of educating the pantherans.  They learned Eastern with difficulty, finding it very difficult to pronounce certain sounds due to their elongated heads.  Atka endured these problems, and his classmates made him further self-aware of his differences.  He had lived in Guzhou for one year and eight months.   
If the experiment was deemed a failure, the East had decided to cast aside their olive branch negotiations in favor of more costly invasion.
So there was Atka, sitting in a desk in the center of the classroom.  The young boy in back of him yanked at his tail while Ms. Lee was facing the blackboard, and by the time she had turned around, Atka was growling at the scared Yan, who had backed up into the very back of his chair.  Yan and his friends made it a point most days to imitate Atka’s speech in a condescending manner, and it was no different that day, before Atka was pulled aside.  He was waiting for his mother to finish speaking with Ms. Wan, swishing his tail back and forth in anticipation, looking at the gloves on his hands (which prevented him from extending his claws), wondering why he was so different from his peers.  He felt angry at himself for reacting the way he did, but then felt anger towards his classmates (except for a girl he had met during recess, who had come to see why he was sitting on the bench alone, and then subsequently pointed out that his manner of speech was…odd).  Ms. Wan and Ms. Lee continued their conversation.
“Ms. Wan,” said Ms. Lee.  “I love Atka, and I want the best for him.”
“Of course, I know,” said Ms. Wan.  “But I am concerned with the safety of my class as well, Ms. Lee.”

...

The next word is transcendence.

Aww...that came off rather sad to me.

On a happier note, Good story, And I think Atka is MORE than justified here. He should bite that child!   (though maybe that wouldn't end well )

On a happier note, Good story, And I think Atka is MORE than justified here. He should bite that child!   (though maybe that wouldn't end well )

Thanks Jet.  Also, you're right in that it wouldn't have ended well if that were to have happened...   

[Transcendence]

Either way! You shall have no shortage of words! How about- Transcendence?

I woke up quietly and abruptly, looking up into the sky with little breath and poor sight, for the moon was hidden in the shadows.  I remembered having an unpleasant dream, but I couldn’t remember its contents, for I was suddenly preoccupied with a single light in the dark heavens above.  It was dull at first, but progressively grew brighter and larger, and I could see it move.  Then, I heard a noise behind me…my stomach lurched out of fear and I quickly got to my feet and turned around, not making more sound than a leaf falling from a branch.  But I saw nothing.
Turning back to the sky, the light was not there; darkness had engulfed my perception again.  But as I waited in silence scanning my surroundings, I could slowly begin to make out the familiar trees and crevices of our land, the rocks, and brush.  And that’s when I heard a sound, like a whistle, but distorted, from behind the forest.  I became very frightened, and lowered my body below the line of bushes while listening to the faint sound.  It grew fainter and fainter, and then suddenly, I heard a roar of thunder.  I jumped and got lower to the ground and looked around me; it was at this moment that I realized my family, my entire tribe, was gone. 
My stomach felt as if it was in knots, and I was attempting to wake myself up from this awful dream but to no avail.  I didn’t want to call out to anyone, but I desperately wanted to know where they were.  Had they gone without me? 
Then, I saw a dim light outline the silhouettes of the trees.  A fire perhaps.  I got to my feet and briskly walked through the brush and trees towards the light; it was only a few hundred paces away it seemed.  It was just now that I could hear my own footsteps…seeing the light and hearing myself, I stopped dead…the insects were silent.  But the light was so close.  I looked back at the darkness behind me, and not wanting to go back, I continued on slowly and cautiously, anxiously awaiting to see what was behind the trees, but frightened of the unfamiliar and the feeling of unnaturalness plaguing the night.  I slid up to the last tree blocking the light from hitting me…it was as dim as the moon, and had a slight tint to it that seemed to change ever so slightly from blue to green.  I crept up to the bark, not wanting to see what was behind the tree, but my eyes steadily pulled my head to the other side of the trunk, itching to see what was there.  I began to hear the sound again just as dimly as when I was back at our grounds.
I saw a tall dark figure staring up at the sky.  Too tall to be my blood.  I stood frozen, my eyes locked on the figure, my heart racing, perhaps even audible.  I remembered the stories, the demons from the sky, how when the moon was dark they took the animals and drained them of their blood…  I noticed my mouth was open; I shut it and slowly retracted to the back of the tree, but my eyes were still on the demon, the light emanating from behind him.
And then, the demon began to rise, about the length of the ankle to the knee, and after it had finished rising, it floated towards me still looking towards the sky.  I lost my breath, turned around, and ran as fast as I could away from the light.  Suddenly, I heard another roll of thunder, louder than the previous; I dropped to my knees and covered my head with my hands, sliding over to the nearest tree and breathing very fast.  The light had diminished.  The insects still remained silent.  I concentrated on the sound of my breathing to eliminate any background noise I might hear, and I stayed in that position until I saw the sun rising over the forest, with the morning haze following closely.
As I opened my eyes, I thought that maybe I had had a terrible dream; I had merely frightened myself walking amongst the trees at night.  But then, I remembered my family and my tribe…I ran back to the grounds as the sun disappeared behind light grey clouds.  They were not there.
I couldn’t convince myself of their utter disappearance, nor could I convince myself of anything I had seen that night, but I had a strange desire to return to the hollow.  The sun peaked through the clouds.
I retraced my path through the brush and forest.  As I moved on, I began to hear the sounds of the animals and the insects leak back into the air…a sign of life.  But as I grew closer to the hollow, I noticed that the ground grew duller; the trees grew greyer.  I slowed my pace to a walk, but reassured by the sounds of nature, I continued.  Then I saw the tree, just a few paces away, white, the bark chipping away, despite the absence of breeze…and I saw my tribe, laying down beyond the roots.  I shouted to them, and ran to the ground behind the tree; my voice sounded foreign considering I had been listening to my thoughts for so long.  But as I entered the hollow, I stopped and stared at their bodies, still and white, ignoring the other atrocities that I tried to destroy from my mind, realizing the curse that had infected these grounds.  My eyes burned as I covered them in my hands, catching tears of sorrow, loneliness, fear; the clouds had passed, leaving blue sky and white sun. 

...

The next word is: overfamous or unsanctionable

amazing mylo, simply amazing 

the emotion stored in those words is very powerful.


if you have not got a large back log, then try: Safety

[disembodied]

Aw...thanks Typing.  I honestly felt frightened and sorrowful myself while writing that one...

here's one for yah, sorta hard: overfamous? or unsanctionable?

This story is a continuation of the story for disembodied.  Reading back over it, there are a lot of things that need to be fixed plot-wise, but I shortened it down for this thread (not from source, but rather, ideas that I wanted to write down).  Enjoy the story for overfamous (the word I chose from the two options).  

...

I had prepared for this day for some time now; it was now or never.  As the plane touched the edge of space on our way to the other side of the world, as it touched down violently, parachutes exploding behind us, as the limousine took us into the inner city to our hotel at Howard Tower, I was thinking of my every move over and over again, every detail in great detail.  And now I was ready…ViRe’s were simply not enough now.  
That night, while my father was away on business, I casually took the elevator from my room to the ground floor.  I would simply walk out…
The elevator doors opened slowly and steadily, concurrent with a synthetic bell that indicated the elevator’s arrival.  I looked out; there was my father, talking with a few of his men, his black hair showing no age.  His eyes drifted up to the sound of the elevator, and my eyes met his for what seemed like minutes.  Unscathed, I walked out of the elevator, but I felt his eyes on me as I moved across the lobby.  And then I heard his voice.
“Son?” he said, in a surprised tone.  
I did not answer him but continued to walk.
“Alex?” he called again.  “Alex, where are you going?”
I was almost there…I could see the lights of the skyscrapers beyond the window that rose up for several stories.  
“Alex, come here.  Where are you going?”
I had almost reached the door when I heard footsteps coming behind me…my father.
“Alex!” he called, but I did not turn nor answer.
And then he shouted my name, “ALEX!”  I turned around with my hand on the glass door…one of the workers opened it for me.  I looked into the pits of my father’s eyes as he quickened his pace.  His conversers stared in confusion, as did some of the guests in the lobby.  The man tapped my shoulder.
“Alex, where are you going tonight?” he asked in a friendly tone.  I looked back at him and had no memory of his face…but mine was recognizable.  At that moment, I bolted out of the door into the city, crowded as ever.  The street in front of me was full of traffic, but I took the chance...it was now or never.  I ran in front of a couple cars, stopping in the middle of the road before I could get hit by a third.  Then, I waited for another sedan to pass quickly before I took a few more steps into the road, where I stopped for three cars to pass in a tight line.  I turned back, backing away quickly to avoid getting hit by a trolley.  I saw my father rushing out of the door, turned back, and sprinted across the remainder of the road to the other side.  Immediately, I felt the adrenaline rush, and I ran faster than I thought I could down the sidewalks, among the people.  
They all gave me strange looks…they all knew my face.  I could hear my name being uttered and whispered; I had anticipated this, which is why I was headed to a very specific district of town, where they had the gene modifiers.  I heard sirens…but upon rounding the corner I found that it was a fire truck.  I was still running, but I was slowing down; I flagged down a cab, told him where to go, and in an instant, I blended with all the other cabs, all the other people.  I was gone.

...

Stampede is next.

[stampede]

Nicely done Mylo.  A touching goodbye of a father to his son.  

You probably won't run out of words, but here is another. "stampede"

And here is the story for stampede.    This is actually in the same universe as the previous story...I guess subsequent stories can revisit this world in the future and explain why all this happened, and what it led to...

However, in the scheme of things, this character is just a spectator to the destruction, like the billions of others around the world.

...

December 31st, 1999.  The world watched as Information City, the world’s beacon of hope and technological capital, was incinerated from above by a weapon unseen by the public eye.  I was watching the television that morning, getting ready to go to work, looking forward to the new millennium, when I saw the replay of the destruction, caught on video tape from all angles by the thousands of cameras still functioning beyond the blast radius.  The cars had stopped on the main transit route.  Then I heard the emergency alert system echo throughout my small house, telling the world that Information City had been attacked and destroyed by a satellite laser weapon, and that the US government was in the process of taking down the device.  But what struck me in the stomach was the fact that they told the country’s urban dwellers to clear the dense downtown districts of major cities, in preparation perhaps of another attack.  I gulped down my orange juice and then ran to my car.  I didn’t live in downtown (I did work there), but I could see the skyscrapers from my lawn, and I had doubt that the government had control over the situation.  
As I exited the house, I was reluctant to shut my door (considering I was virtually empty handed sans my wallet, my keys, and about $50 cash.  I closed it anyway as I saw a couple other people exit their houses to their cars, not like they did normally in the morning…they acted decisively.  I started the engine and accelerated backwards, then switched gear and sped past the other families quickly moving towards their cars.  I sighed and pressed the accelerator harder than I usually did.  40 mph.  50 mph.  And I hadn’t even left the suburb yet…I had to get to the highway before the impending stampede broke any chances of moving beyond the city’s range.
As I took the on ramp to the highway, I noticed it was similar to rush hour, except the cars were all accelerating at an even pace (the usual 80 mph).  It was just a few seconds later that a car passed me…he was going at least 90 mph.  Then another car passed me.  Then another one.  I switched lanes to the center, but a car came up fast behind me; I accelerated to avoid him.  All the cars were speeding.  I was weary driving this speed, but I feared getting into an accident.
I was going 90 mph, but some people were still going faster.  It was quiet in my car, so I turned on the radio to hear if there were any recent developments…immediately, the sound of some reporter came on talking about the calamity in Information City, and then another voice telling the public to evacuate their downtown.  I glanced up at the sky, wondering if I could see the satellite.  It was perfectly blue, but I quickly looked back at the road so that I could maintain control of my car.  The air was cool outside before I had boarded my car; not a cloud in the sky.  A bit humid.
Where was I going?  I was running away, like all these people probably were.  The inbound lanes were almost desolate, save a few cars speeding as well.  I tried to concentrate on the road, but then I looked in my rear view mirror.  I could still see the landmark skyscrapers behind me standing tall and proud, unbeknownst to them that a looming threat was hovering above their spires, the spires of the world.  I looked back at the road which was sloping upwards.
Suddenly, I saw a flash in my rear view mirror (with my peripheral vision).  I jolted a little in surprise.  As my eyes fell upon the mirror, I expected to see my city destroyed, the events of this morning played out behind me.  But the light had subsided by the time my eyes met the mirror, and I saw the buildings still there, like normal, the sun glaring from behind them, rays eating through the silhouettes.  And then, I saw a red light in my peripheral vision, as I was staring at the mirror, as the cars beside me slowed down.  I didn’t have time to turn my head, to see the sea of red lights ahead of me, just over the hill, indicating that traffic had stopped.  I slammed on the brake, slowing down slightly, but I knew I was going to impact, and in a split second, I did.  The car in front of me tried to turn into the next lane, but I hit its rear end, causing me to jerk forward into the airbag, and sending the other car into a spin that hit the car to the front and the left of it.  I hadn’t died, like I had expected to in that fraction of time, but I felt light headed and I slumped in my seat, trying to decipher what I was seeing and where I was.  The owner of the car, a woman with blonde hair in a mess, got out and opened the back door, pulling out a child who was rubbing his neck.  Suddenly, she screamed and grabbed her child, and I heard a loud bang as I jerked back.  A car had impacted mine from behind.  It was then that my neck began to hurt, badly, and I went into a daze as cars were halted for miles and miles.      

...

The next word is safety...