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Bamboo jungle

 
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6/25/2008 18:40:05   
Amboo
October 2008 Poet of the Month...Woot!


Bamboo Jungle

A collection of my short stories.

Comments thread

The perfect shot

The July sunset faded into night as the citrus pastels left the sky. Germany lay in darkness, except for the dim orange glow of street lamps lining the cobblestone streets. Around the torn city, guns roared. In different districts rifles broke the night silence as countries waged war. The cries of wounded soldiers could be heard from miles away, striking terror into the hearts of citizens and soldiers alike. On a rooftop, an American sniper crouched himself under a high wall, having been assigned a special mission, to take out high ranking members in the German army.

Beside him lay his sniper rifle and a pair of binoculars. His face was young and fresh but his eyes told a different tale, that of a man who was used to looking at death. Taking a water bottle from his pack he began drinking. He was thirsty, having not drunk all day. He pulled the woolen hat over his ears to keep himself warm in the cold night. For a moment, he pondered whether to light up a cigarette but he knew it was a dangerous thing to risk. The flash could be seen in the distance and there were enemies watching. The chill of the night air eventually got the better of him and the stress of war made up his mind, he was going to take the risk.

Putting the cigarette between his lips, he flicked open his lighter and sparked a flame. He quickly inhaled through the cigarette and put the light out. Almost immediately afterwards, a bullet struck the roof he was lying on. He put the cigarette out and crawled to the other end of the roof, cursing the enemy under his breath. He raised his head over the ledge carefully. A flash of light appeared in his vision and he dropped to the ground immediately. He had seen where the bullet came from, an enemy sniper on the roof on the other side of the street. He took cover behind a chimney and strained his vision to look for the enemy. Nothing could be seen except for the blackness of houses against the night sky.

Just then, an enemy tank rolled down the end of the street and stopped. The sniper's blood boiled; he wanted to fire but giving away his location was too risky so he let his head rule his heart this time. At that moment, an old man came rushing over to the tank and began talking to the man in the turret, pointing to where the American sniper laid hiding. An informant. The American sniper raised his gun and fired. The elderly man fell with a thud. Then, from the roof across the road, a shot rang out and the American sniper dropped his gun with a swear. He tried to pick up his rifle again but he couldn’t. “Jesus” he groaned, “I’m hit”.

Falling onto the ground, he flopped back over to where his pack was, took out his combat knife, and tore off the arm of his shirt. He saw a black hole on his arm where the bullet had entered. He had no choice but to self-operate. He placed a cloth in his mouth and bit down hard while extracting the bullet with his knife. His flesh tore as he removed the metal seed embedded in his arm. Then, with a clank, the bullet released itself from his flesh and rolled to a stop on the roof. He removed the cloth from his teeth and tied it around his wound, stopping the bleeding.

The American sniper lay perfectly still, nursing his wound and trying to overcome the pain while planning his revenge. He could not wait until light returned, for he would be left wounded on the roof while the enemy sniper had then a clear shot. He had to act fast as morning approached. He threw his woolen hat upward over the wall and it was quickly disposed of by the enemy. He was spotted and he could not run. He then formulated a plan. Raising his shirt in the air, he waited; a shot rang out and the shirt was pierced. He then draped his body over the side of the building wall and let his rifle fall to the ground. He then sank lifelessly to the roof.

He quickly dragged himself to the other side of the roof, got a view and waited. His trick had worked as the enemy sniper rose from the other side of the roof and looked across at what he thought was the American sniper's corpse. The American sniper lifted his handgun and fired. The enemy sniper staggered backward before toppling over the roof and landing in the street below. Victorious, he peered over the edge of the building to see his enemy’s corpse. The enemy lay face down in the dirt, lifeless on the quiet street. Curiosity peaked, and the American sniper rushed down to see the face of the enemy he had thwarted.

When he reached the lifeless body he smiled at his victory. He rolled over the corpse to see the enemy’s body. Then he let out a shriek of fear. “No!” the soldier cried as he peered into the face of his younger brother, also wearing the American army uniform.


< Message edited by amboo -- 6/26/2008 20:38:40 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 1
6/26/2008 20:32:01   
Amboo
October 2008 Poet of the Month...Woot!


Mans best friend

I am a dog. I feel it would be better to tell you now, before you start wondering what kind of person urinates on lampposts and sniffs at people's bottoms. I would come across as a very disgusting person and frankly, I don’t think you would care for me very much after it. My master refers to me as Roxy, so I suppose you should also unless he returns and wants to call me differently. You see, my master left for an afternoon walk yesterday without me for some reason and I haven’t seen him since. I feel so confined in this house - no water, no food; I am beginning to think maybe master has abandoned me. I hope he comes home soon, I need some attention and that cat has been strutting around like she owns the place! But wait, I think I can smell him.

“MASTER! MASTER! MASTER!” I screamed as I saw the vision of my person.

“Draggle foofle gribble Roxy trigglt yippy floop!” he exclaimed.

“MASTER, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU JUST SAID BUT I'M SO HAPPY YOUR HOME!.”

“Gabble gible fupper Walkies Bumblip hop.”

“Oh yes master I would love walkies right now,” I said as he hooked the leash around my neck and walked with me out the back door. It felt great to be outdoors again, the fresh smell of morning dew on the grass, the birds chirping and I could smell a cat somewhere. I pulled at the leash as I tried to sniff the fresh grass and find that cat. My claws scraping against the concrete of the sidewalk as I dragged my master along behind me. My first ambition was to find a nice lamppost, as I have not been outside in over a day.

I walked down the street with my master to the closest lamppost and relieved myself, just as another dog and his master were coming down the street towards us. I immediately went up and greeted the dog with a friendly sniff of his bottom while the dog's master gave me a strange look and moved on. “Don’t mind her master, she is just rude not to say hello”. Once again he chose to ignore me and just pressed on forwards to the woods in the park where we always go on our walks. I love it there! When I get thirsty I can drink from the stream and play in the water while master watches me happily. He sometimes even lets me off the leash to go and have a run through the forest; he knew I would never leave him.

I was in luck, for today was one of those days. With a smile, he unhooked me from the leash and walked on. I dashed off before he could change his mind. Sniffing through the leaves, I found a wonderful scent, and following it I barked at the squirrels as they scampered up the trees. I occasionally went back to check if master was still there; I don’t want him to go missing again. He just smiled at me and carried on walking. I played in the stream and lapped up the fresh water, much better than that stuff master gives me from the tap. I Set up boundarys around my territory with urine, so that any other dog would know this is my neck of the woods! All of a sudden I smelled something, like a human in the forest. Maybe they were lost and I could help, master would be happy with me then. I dashed through the forest with the crunch of leaves under my paws towards where I smelled the human.

“Found you!” I shouted as I saw a human face down in the stream that runs through the forest. “HEY MASTER, MASTER COME LOOK AT THIS!” But my master just walked calmly through the forest. “HURRY!” I exclaimed.

Frustratingly, all I got back was “Floople doof gump”. When my master caught up to me, he looked shocked, he ran down to the stream and stood beside me, looking at the body. I went over and sniffed at the man but he wasn’t moving. Master went over and lifted him out of the water and placed him on the path while looking around. Maybe for another human to help him. “grippel goob NO!” cried Master as he looked at the man lying on the path.

“No, what’s wrong Master? was I not supposed to find him”. I went over to see if there was something wrong with the man, when I looked into his face I was surprised, “Master, is that you?”


< Message edited by amboo -- 7/6/2008 20:33:13 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 2
7/2/2008 22:14:46   
Amboo
October 2008 Poet of the Month...Woot!


Rough District

It was after midnight in New York City. In a small street in Manhattan, an elderly man who appeared to be in his seventies walked home alone. The street of high office blocks and apartments, busy in the daytime, became a cold deserted valley at night. Frightened, the man wearily hobbled down the street, thoughts racing through his mind. A mugging,he thought to himself, that's the threat I face here. He peered over the rim of his glasses, looking from left to right for any glimpse of another person, nothing. It was not wise for him to be out walking this late; this district had become famous in the news recently. A favourite spot for criminals.

He didn’t like this; the street was even more quiet than usual, no cars or other pedestrians to be seen. He had walked this street when he was a boy and never once felt threatened. It was a respectable friendly neighbourhood, but criminals and thieves had long since dissipated the area’s good name. The man was wearing an expensive suit, bought from his savings he earned back when he was a lawyer. It’s not right that an elderly man should have to feel scared in his own city, he thought. “I’m not far now. Keep it together,” he mumbled under his breath as he slowly made his way to his apartment. Would this be the night that the walker got mugged, tossed into the gutter by the vile criminals that prowled the city? The same criminals that would not think anything of leaving an old man to die on a public street, blood pouring from the gash in his head.

At that moment, two young men were walking down an alley, a block away from where the old man desperately tried to quicken his pace. “We need some money Craig,” Andrew said to his companion. Walking out of the alley they spotted the old man up the road.

“An opportunity just came up,” sneered Andrew to his friend. They eyed the hunched man, making his way slowly along the pavement. Craig nodded at his partner. No need to talk, a nod was all that was needed. They waited until the street was quiet and then made a run for the old man. He had seen them coming from the corner of his eye and desperately tried to run, but his fragile bones would not travel like his mind wanted them to. The fragile man gasped for air while his attackers drew nearer. Andrew ran in front of the old man and blocked his path while Craig Grabbed his shirt Collar and threw him up against the wall.

“W-What do you want?” he said, trembling. Craig shook him Violently.

“Everything you’ve got!” threatened Craig through his teeth. “Can, you, understand, me! Everything; your watch, money, and I bet you've got some bank-cards for us as well!" He gave a blow to the old mans stomach and released his grip.

“If I give… you – you won’t hurt me?” pleaded the fragile old man. The pair laughed at him. He took out his wallet and offered it to Craig nervously. Craig tore it out of his hand.

“Ten dollars, what good is this!” shouted Craig.
“Yeah, the notes, give us the notes” Said Andrew, while tossing the man against the wall. “Quickly, the money!” ordered Andrew.

“Ok, I’ve got some bank notes in the inside pocket of my suit, just give me some room to get them for you.” Said the man, his voice shaking with fear.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear, give him some room” said Andrew. As both of them moved backward the elderly man reached inside his suit. He pulled his hand out from his pocket… Bang. Two shots rang out into the night causing a cat to screech on the balcony of an apartment overhead. The two criminals slumped to the pavement lifeless. The old man took his wallet back from the hand of the criminal, placed the gun back in his pocket and walked to the door of his apartment. With one final cold stare he looked back at his victims and then carried on.


< Message edited by amboo -- 7/3/2008 12:28:59 >
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 3
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