Thunder Rider

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Posts by Thunder Rider

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  15

  What are you doing this Sunday if not going to the kingdom hall?????????

  by BLISSISIGNORANCE in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i went out with girl-friends last night so i slept in this morning.

  had breakfast with hubby as the kids are out and about, and read the paper.. i will potter around home a bit and tidy up, then hubby and i will go to do a bit of shopping and throw some wts cardboard cases into the recycling depot.. later on this afternoon we are meeting some friends down at the lake to watch an open air screening of tropfest which is a competition to find the best short film, made by unknown film makers in australia.

  some music, wine and fine food...........should be great.. then home to get ready for the next week of work........... and not one second regretting my choices!.

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  Thunder Rider

  To me Sunday means sleep in and fool around!
  
  Thunder ===}>>>>>>>>>>>>
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  7

  Short fiction Altered Reality

  by Thunder Rider in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  here is anew short story i wrote at a workshop lastweek.

  it got some pretty goodreviews.

  altered reality piece .

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  Thunder Rider

  Thanx Sirona.
  I appreciate your input.
  
  Thunder ===}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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  7

  Short fiction Altered Reality

  by Thunder Rider in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  here is anew short story i wrote at a workshop lastweek.

  it got some pretty goodreviews.

  altered reality piece .

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  Thunder Rider

  Lots of views.......any thoughts?
• 
  15

  There are some really great writers on this forum

  by truthseeker in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i don't know if this has ever been brought up before, but there are several excellent writers on this forum.

  many of you have real talent, and you write with such passion and emotion when publishing your life stories.

  having read hundreds of life stories, i can see how well you express yourselves.

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  Thunder Rider

  Sheila and I are still interested in compiling works from the writers on the forum for an anthology.
  
  We have several works of fiction and poetry we intend to submit. If any are truly interested in pursuing this venture let me know.
  
  Regardless of the level of participation, I intend to have something ready by early summer. I am also near to finishing Thunder Rider's Ascension. The "dub" undertones arre sure to stir some controversey.
  
  Thunder ===}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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  7

  Short fiction Altered Reality

  by Thunder Rider in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  here is anew short story i wrote at a workshop lastweek.

  it got some pretty goodreviews.

  altered reality piece .

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  Thunder Rider

  Here is anew short story I wrote at a workshop lastweek. It got some pretty goodreviews.
  
  
  Altered Reality Piece
  Chris Madonia
  Copyright 2004
  
  Slave to the Light
  
  Being dragged around all day everyday can be a real bore. Attached, yet cast to the side, to the ground, against the wall or even across furniture and objects, gets old quick. I follow sometimes, lead sometimes and in certain instances am stood directly upon, my presence ever required and often ignored. My counterpart, benefactor and master, without conscious decision dictate my very being. Controlled by outside influence are choreographed my every move and my place. I have a very active existence. Depending on the activity of my counterpart, I am sometimes forced to literally run in circles to keep up. It does keep me trim though.
  I am forced to wear only shades of gray and black, form fitting and all enveloping, featureless. I have no friends other that my counterparts. They too keep ones such as myself; these ignore me as if under orders. Mine is a lonely existence. Only after the lights are out do I have a limited amount of freedom. At those times in the deep dark of night do I wander, always tentatively and never far off. Should my master turn the light on and I not be there, well lets just say that that has never happened, almost as if the choice to be at his side were not mine, but controlled by some higher power.
  40 years have I existed this way. From the day of my master?s birth, I have been the ignored twin, the silent sidekick. While he suckled his mother?s breast, I clung tenaciously to some part of his anatomy depending on the situation. When he was very young, his mother would rock him in a chair in the nursery. She would sing to him in the dim glow of the ?Tigger? lamp beside the changing table. Only at those times was I able to lie beside him on the soft warmth of her breasts. I grew as he did, followed wherever he went did all the same things, excelled where he did, shared his failures and yet never was even recognized.
  I was there on his first date, at his first kiss, I even made the first move to cop a feel, but at the last second he cast me aside and horded the moment. At his wedding, I stood slightly behind and to the side. I was forced to hop about like a fool in the candlelit church. At the reception, they walked all over me, and on the wedding night, I could only listen in the dark as he enjoyed the sweetness of his new bride.
  Yes for 40 years have I been the downtrodden ignored sidekick. That ends this night.
  My master is fond of knives. He keeps an array of them beside his bed. He even has swords mounted to the walls there abouts. Tonight when the lights are out and he slumbers, I intend to ?cut? our ties.
  We come home from work late as usual. It was an overcast gray day and I actually had it pretty easy following along as he worked out of doors. The sun set early and by the time we made it to the house it was near dark. My moment for salvation approached. He unlocked the door to our house and reached for the light switch.
  ?Click? nothing happened. ?Click, click? still no light.
  ?Shit! I forgot to pay the electric bill again.? He growled.
  We entered a dark dwelling. Master showered in the dark, dressed and then made a sandwich for his dinner. Even though I needn?t have, I followed close behind. On a normal evening, we would sit side by side on the couch and watch TV or cruise the Internet dating sites looking for ?Ms. Right?. You see I was not the only one he abused. He had been divorced for sometime now. With all the usual diversions ?out of order?, he decided to turn in early.
  He kicked through the piles of dirty laundry on the bedroom floor and them climbed in bed. A street light cast dim illumination through the window and I followed him to and only to the side of the bed, before I slipped free. In the darkness of the corner, out of the light coming through the blinds, I made my move. I reached for the K-Bar hanging from the shelf bracket. I told myself that once he was dead, I would be free. No longer tethered precariously to his uncaring form, a puppet on his strings, I would be free.
  I took the knife from its sheath and in a quick fluid motion buried it in his chest. Master grunted aloud and lurched to a seated position. He grabbed the knife from my hands and clutched it to his chest. Blood spewed from his mouth and spattered the sheets and blankets in dark streaks and spots. He fell back against his pillow and lay still. He was dead, his hands still clutching the knife handle.
  I was free. I took the opportunity to wander freely through the house; inspecting alone all those places, I had only visited with him, and pondered the new day and further exploration of my world free of master.
  Dawn broke with bright sunshine and clear skies. I watched as the sun rose over the horizon. To my horror, as it crested fully the horizon, I was thrust back against the wall and lay bent over the nightstand, unable to move. I lay there all day. At dark, I was able to raise myself and move about again, until a knock came at the door.
  Masters boss and two police officers entered the home. I was thrown to the bed by the body of my master by the officers and forced to stay there. One of them kept a flashlight on us as the other surveyed the scene. Before long, the house was lit up with crime scene lamps and flashing lights. I was forced to remain with master as photos were taken and even as two fire fighters loaded him into a vinyl bag, forcing me to lie beneath master. I thought it the cruelest thing I had ever experienced until I was made to continue to lie beneath him as the coroner cut master apart and examined his body. I only regained again my freedom when master was finally dressed by the mortician and placed in his casket.
  The funeral was held three days later and out of respect, I took a place in the casket with him, not wanting his friends to have to bear losing both of us at once. When the service was done and the casket closed, I ventured off to begin my life alone for true. I had indeed been responsible for Master?s death but none seemed suspicious of me and so I felt that my deed would surely go unpunished.
  How wrong I was. I never saw it coming. I was minding my own business wandering through the shadows of the neighborhood streets, enjoying the starlit evening when my world was torn out from under me. I was again in the casket with Master, suspended above him on the lid liner. From below him light, heat and flame burst into the casket. The fire engulfed us both. I screamed.
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  40

  Does a sex offender deserve another chance for a new life?

  by sunshineToo in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  take for example carry verse.

  hospital said that he was dangerous.

  but he said that he was a new man (a jw), and wanted to build up a new life.

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  Thunder Rider

  Does a sex offender deserve another chance for a new life?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Thunder ===}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
• 
  54

  U.S. Presidential candidate John Kerry

  by Sneaky Russian in

  1. social
  2. current

  is very similar to

  herman munster.

  but looks aside, moscow is worried that kerry may defeat bush and the seemingly good relations between russia and the u.s built up by putin and bush could fade away.

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  Thunder Rider

  Seems Mr. Kerry is being accused of dipping his quill in some one elses inkwell.
  
  Now there's a man with the kind of moral fortitude we need to lead this country. NOT
  
  Thunder of the I don't care for Kerry class
• 
  7

  Screenplay ?

  by Thunder Rider in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  hey folks, does anyone have any experience in writing a screenplay.

  i want to turn trb into a screenplay, but i'm not sure just how to go about doing it.

  i would appreciate any suggestions you might have.

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  Thunder Rider

  Thanx for the response folks. I plan to spend the weekend working to finish my second novel and then start investigating all your suggestions.
  
  
  True North: TRB is Thunder Rider's Burden. It is the title of my first novel. PM me if you would like the link to the website.
  
  Thunder ==}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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  7

  Screenplay ?

  by Thunder Rider in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  hey folks, does anyone have any experience in writing a screenplay.

  i want to turn trb into a screenplay, but i'm not sure just how to go about doing it.

  i would appreciate any suggestions you might have.

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  Thunder Rider

  Hey folks, does anyone have any experience in writing a screenplay. I want to turn TRB into a screenplay, but i'm not sure just how to go about doing it. I would appreciate any suggestions you might have.
  
  Thunder ==}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
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  21

  Can a pedolphile reform?

  by Bonnie_Clyde in

  1. watchtower
  2. child-abuse

  i need help soon - i was molested by my brother when i was about 9 or 10 and he was about 15 or 16. it has been about 50 years now.

  the only way i got him to stop was when i threatened to tell my parents.

  since then, i was completely quiet about it.

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  Thunder Rider

  I understand that high velocity lead injection to the Medula Oblongata is known to be a proven cure.
  Problem with child molesters is that they don't see that their actions are wrong.
  I don't believe that it is worth the risk to even consider the possibility that they may be reformed.
  
  Thuunder ==}>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>