I started writing a Sci-fi thriller some months back , but later on scrapped off the idea as i am too busy these days with too many commitments. Though i did not pen down much in the past few months, but feel it is worth the effort and publish it in my blog so that my readers get a feel of my literary ponderings ;-)
"George a.k.a TMR-1(Temporary Mobile Robot) was sitting on a small bench in the shallow waters of the Tokuhama beach. Tokuhama was one of the few beaches left untouched in the island of Treomb. He could see the sun setting against a crimson backdrop, it was as if Mother Nature was putting an end to this act - this act of rising and closing the curtains....He could hear the chriping of the sea-birds....returning to their nests.Somewhere he could see a crab trying to dig a small trench for himself , to guard him against the dark night and against the nocturnal creatures.A lone albatross was flying against this backdrop of 'curtains', on the hunt.George had come out for his diurnal recharge - he used to come out into the sun at 1200 hours daily to recharge his NickelCadmium Batteries and used to go back again into his routine again at 1800 hours.He needed this 6 hours of recharge to keep him going.His sister Navomy a.k.a FSR3U did not need this recharge as she was ....................................."
to be completed...but am not gonna complete :-|
i am planning to write something serious and related in someway to the present corporate scenario worlwide and relate a common person(layman) to these events - it should be a literary roller-coster.
1 comment:
nice try! check this out, not by me:
The ethereal harmonies of the laserpipe orchestra echoed off the solid diamond walls of the Galactic Overlord's pleasure chamber. As I slowly made my way through the gyrating throng of human, plasmid, and arachnoid revelers, the arcanite sensors on my integrated detectograph started going haywire. "Just as I thought," I thought. "She's here."
It was another two hundred ticks until I saw her, dancing languidly with a spice runner out of Betelgeuse VII. He was a hulking brute, with a wickedly edged macrosword slung over the back of his metaluminum armor, the kind that would have struck cold fear into the heart of a lesser man. But I was no lesser man. "Mind if I cut in?" I intoned, silencing the smuggler's enraged grumble of objection with a stealthy blast from my deliminator rifle.
"What took you so long?" cooed Abraxxia, her words subtly quavering with the universal inflections of desire. Ignoring my own fierce need, I furiously scanned my surroundings for danger -- she was crafty, and I knew that the slightest mistake would prove fatal. Not just for myself, but for the entire United Alliance. Inevitably, my gaze settled back upon the smooth curves of skin that peeked out from under her transparent holodress. How many rounds of Uranian Megasex would it take before she surrendered the alloy?
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http://www.colbertnation.com/colbertnation/novel_1.jhtml
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