Title



Introduction

In 2266 at the height of Summer a child was born. Screams echoed out, silenced by the cries of new life. The umbilical cord was cut, the newborn was washed and wrapped in a soft blanket. Gazing soulfully for an eternity into the babies big beautiful eyes, a smiling and loving mother caressed the soft, plump, rosy cheek of her offspring. The tiny baby instinctively stretched out grasping for something to satisfy the newly discovered urge of hunger and with an uncoordinated breath cried out. The mother revealed her briast and provoked the babies lips with her teat, although small and fragile the newborn clamped down on the mothers nipble and latched onto her bosom svckling for dear life. Reassuringly, a strong male hand held the mothers shoulder gently and informed her that everything was going to be okay, the delivery was a success and that they have what they had always wanted; that which they had worked so hard for since meeting on that moonlit night by the lake.

Once the baby had-had its fill darkness began to set in. The mother and her offspring drifted to sleep hugging one another close. The father standing watch over his family felt a tear roll down his face, joy at the accomplishment and beauty of being. His life had been tough and he never knew his own parents, he had been found by Mole Rats; he was in a basket on the edge of a cliff and was raised by the pack until he was old enough to toddle by himself to the nearest human settlement. What greeted him there was a life of abuse and servitude at the hands of an evil and wealthy family that routinely used slaves, the upside to his childhood was that a caring older women servant took him under her wing and he was housed with many other great people in the servant quarters of a large gated complex; though some were bitter and unhelpful to other prisoners, many servants were highly intelligent and found joy in educating those with the will to learn. Sharing tales and knowledge in the evenings around the Hot Plate was a fond memory. It was a shame it had to end so brutally.

The small abandoned farm house that the couple had to seek shelter in once labour started was in the middle of nowhere, they had enough supplies for a few more nights after which it would be time to continue on into the great unknown; to find civilisation, a new life and a new future. All night long the man watched over his family, his rifle no more than a step away at all times and the blade of his 'STEEL' engraved Bowie Knife kept Obsidian edge sharp. There was a full moon and the Galaxy of stars shone brightly in the clear night sky. A storm could be seen and heard far off in the distance, the crackle of thunder and flashes of fork lightening, a foreboding reminder of what the couple had left behind in their wake.




Chapter 1

Angels and Unicorns

The Sun is rising over a small quiet town, illuminating and warming the ground beneath it on a typical July morning in 2282. Dust whips up into brief and erratic dust devils, a cool breeze flows through the fields swaying the crops and awakening the cattle. Slowly but surely as The Sun climbs in the sky the sleepy town becomes more and more active with people going about their daily duties, the men tending to the fields and animals, the women cooking, weaving cloth, tanning hides and taking care of the infants; older children play in the school yard, their playful banter reverberating across the town and echoing off into the distance. A teenager sits alone in their favourite spot perched on top of a cliff over looking the small town and peering out into the desert. With a melancholy lackluster the youngster picks at the dry dirt and occasionally tumbles a rock down onto the ground a hundred feet below. The town is so peaceful and with the North California Republic stationed close by there is not any trouble in these parts.

A group of elderly women sit in the shade rocking back and forth on their chairs as they knit and natter. A beautiful long haired women dressed in a pre-war dress and bonnet walks past them and waves a greeting and smiles as she passes on her way to fetch a bucket of water.

"[wolf whistle]Honey, you are looking gorgeous as always!" hollers an elderly women and they all giggle to each other.

"Good afternoon ladies." replies the blushing natural beauty.

Once the women finally reaches the pump she drops the bucket with a clang and sits down to take a break, momentarily removing her bonnet to wipe her brow before she musters the strength to make the return leg of her journey. As the women replaces her hat, her heart is thumping as she considers her blessings and joy for life.

With The Sun setting beyond the horizon refracting a warm golden sky above, a tired farmer returns to his home to find his beautiful wife there.

"Hello I'm home!" declares the man noticing that this evenings meal of Bighorn Steak and vegetables is ready and the Hot Plate s still glowing. The farmer pours himself a stiff drink and slumps into his favourite armchair, his stomach groans. As the man eats his meal he looks at his wife a smiles.

"Where is our son?" he asks...

Feedback and criticism welcome.

Ok, well let's see. A typical wasteland story, people are gone missing. However, the way you tell the story, it doesn't really create a connection with your readers. I mean, we don't even know the names of your characters. They are generalized - a man is looking for his wife. A child cries out. The teen walks down the road. It could be anyone and why should I care about some man, or some teen?

First things first, name your characters. Then we can talk...

It's a strange and slightly complex issue as to why I haven't given the names as one might expect (nor the gender of the child)... I guess I want to have the names of the characters be a discovery to the reader and to create a dynamic to the divulgence of names (like soul of the character). Also I am making the story up as I go along (pretty much) and maybe the names will affect the flow and destinations more than I'd like (I can add them later if need be)

I also didn't want the reader to bond too much, because after all, it could be kinda like naming the lamb that is to be slaughtered, it just shouldn't be done.

If you feel apathetic towards them that maybe a good thing. Perhaps I want that - perhaps I want to see how much one cares without the knowledge of a name (or face).

it is currently a complex issue that I hope to simplify and remedy. I appreciate your sound feedback, thank you Agrona.

I have given one name so far. "Honey" - that is (was) his wives name. Which the reader won't have known on the first read through until after she is gone, but that's my point (if I had named her before I probably would not have killed her... and the stories branches would be totally different)
There maybe [wink] other instances later in the story where we learn more about Honey, that play a role and I think mostly it is to set up the reader to read the story once again after the end, with fresh eyes - kind of like 'replayability' in FNV. [shrugs] it's just a concept that naturally spawned, if it doesn't work in the end I can simply adjust it.


Early days yet... some of us don't give out names on the first page

If this concept isn't working then I will happily edit the text, but as of now and before (at least) it had to be so to get the right momentum for me.



^ This is all I can do to explain in regards to the name thing

It is difficult for me to gauge what the reader is thinking sometimes, so any feedback is very much welcome.

Well that certainly is an interesting concept. Names are very important to me and I can fret for hours over naming my characters in a story. A name must fit the character, it must almost be some sort of representation of my character. A name usually always has a meaning, a background. I mean even in life, I make sure that I pronounce someone's name the correct way, as to not offend them.

I've never thought about writing a story without naming my characters. I'm actually rather fascinated by your revelation and your thoughts behind the way you write your story. I respect your idea concerning the naming policy.

However, that brings me then to another question, does the rest of the story have to be written with a sort of detachment? Without any real or internalized character emotions? Maybe, if there was a greater urgency, or if the emotions were grounded deeper within the characters (the Teen for example, when he/she gets kidnapped, has to fight with a gun for the first time, I don't really get any emotions from that person - no internal monologue, not enough body language etc. - I'm sure the teen had to be terribly afraid and fearful for the mother's life) It all seems sort of clinical or like a report someone compiled.

Still, interesting concept, I have to say.

Wonderful input and feedback Agrona, you are really helping so much!

Thank you

I like your idea in this story, but I have to agree with Agrona's opinion about feelings of characters. That cave scene with the woman, fiends and teen, you wrote it more like a report to newspapers, objective without emotions. I couldn't sympathize with them much because I couldn't imagine how they all felt. On the other hand the hopelessness and sadness of the man was really good interpreted to me as reader, 'she was his Honey'. Poor man. I am sorry for him, in this case I don't mind they were nameless. Anyway names are very important, so I am looking forward when you will introduce them it will maybe change my imagination. You really good described the woman, (hair, natural blush, dress and bonnet) that worked for me. She was real lady. But I can't say anything about teen for now.
Your characters have my attention, though.