 “We are sun and moon, dear friend; we are sea and land. It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is: each the other's opposite and complement.” "The plethora of buttholes on Twitter aught to show you just how effective mass social mind-control really is, my friend. Why, all that unregulated access to porn combined with our outlawing of sexual education... why... of course we've got our whore class right where we want them... with our fucking 'All-Nude-Barely-Legal' strip clubs on every other corner..." Emily joked, in a tone she hoped was a decent mockery of the new Texas Governor's overly worked southern accent. "You never talk about your past..." a young man's voice remarked, from the other side of her bed. Emily, however, didn't respond, instead she just took to once again planting little kisses along his lower stomach. "No one knows you... not really," he groaned at the same time she took his half-hard-cock into her hot, moist mouth, instantly making it as stiff as it could possibly get. "Some are saying..." he moaned, so pathetically Emily knew instantly the young man had been tasked with the asking. And that he wasn't gonna relent... just because she needed some playful distraction. "Some are saying I'm not really Emily at all? That I'm just pretending to be her in order to carry on the fight? Is that it?" Emily asked as she wiped some precum off of her light pink lips. "Something like that." "Does it matter? I mean, really? If I'm not her, at the end of the day? If I get the job done? Or perhaps if it's the next woman who steps up that gets it done? Does it really matter? Who wins... so long as it's us - in the end?" The man was barely thirty, but he had always taken top marks in school, so he knew he wasn't dumb. Still... this notion of hers hadn't been something he'd put much mind to. "I don't... well... I guess I don't know," the IT major confessed, as he took up the charge of planting a minefield of kisses all along the inside of her left thigh. "It doesn't. Because this fight isn't about me. And it'll never be about me. That's why, from now on - I'm a ghost... the idea of a woman in power... but no one will ever know exactly who... That way..." But Emily never finished. Instead, Ivan remarked, "That's why we walk side-by-side," as he suddenly joined the conversation, as he continued to thrust inside of Emily from behind. "So that if one of us falls - another can pick up the slack," he growled, in a such playful way as to make Emily giggle, and then she giggled again when Ivan grabbed the newcomer by a fistful of hair and pulled him in for a long an luscious kiss. "There are no betters here. Just us. Just us sexy rebels..." X © Raena Exe 2023 *All rights reserved
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 “I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” Hermann Hesse
Emily smiled as she fell, long enough to totally disappear from sight at any rate. But her smile was long gone by the time she landed with a loud grunt on the deck of the large stealth drone which caught her half-way to the valley floor. At the same time the drone released an extremely convincing dummy of her which hit the valley floor a few moments later. Just after the drone and its cargo had vanished from sight, thanks to some fiberoptic stealth technology. Emily smacked her back hard upon landing, instantly getting the wind knocked out of her. So it took her a long tenuous moment to catch her breath. But this was it. This is how life works for folks like her. On-the-fly reboot - rebuild - destroy - walk away - never a gaddamn goodbye. A survival pattern perhaps - like bees grown too big for the hive. Rebooting is just a natural way of things, she supposed. Or so at least it felt to Emily. For Emily, rebooting was survival. Reboot on the fly, don't ask why. (No one to ask why.) Besides, the answers are never what you want to hear anyhow. And quite frankly she knew it was gonna be these very same bumps and bruises that were gonna see her biggest dreams eventually come true. Because of the fuel it gave her. "A goddamn spiritual atomic bomb... " isn't that what her shrink at the hospital had called her? A spiritual light? Whatever it was. Emily had it now. Fused into skin, bone, marrow and blood. This was who she was now. A tool, much like a pen, by which others would become free. And goddamn, if that weren't somethin' worth fake dying for, she didn't know what was. Old Bright Eyes taking the wrap for her murder... well, that was just icing on the motherfucking cake. ... #EmancipatedEmily #TheBeginingofEverything #MotivesMatter © Raena Exe 2023 *All rights reserved  Emily always knew it was going to end like this. That neither would be free, while the other exists. "I'd point the gun at your heart, if I thought you had one," she told the man who had laughed at every ounce of her pain. His smile his only reply. Emily turned away, turned and looked out over the great expanse of the valley below. She hadn't the heart to tell him she'd lured him here to this particular location on purpose - for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with him. His ego being what it is. "I never meant for it..." he began, but never got to finish. Because the look in Emily's eyes as she turned back to him, told him another syllable from his goddamn mouth would only speed them both to the end that shone brightly in her eyes. "I should have known," she began as she once again took aim right between his eyes - where the man's third-eye shoulda been. "I reckon we were doomed to end this way from the very beginning. I always saw it coming, from as young as I can recall... in all those fucking dreams... those goddamn eyes... always reflecting back to me this inevitable end." There wasn't an ounce of wobble in her voice, and for that Emily was glad. "The saddest part... is you'll leave here thinking it's you who's finally free." And with that, Emily turned on her bare feet and ran... ran and then leapt out into the broad sky, as if its waiting arms were just aching to hold her once more. The only arms... she'd ever known she'd be safe in. And somewhere off in the distance a radio played a Kaleo song... "I want more..." © Raena Exe 2023 *All rights reserved Eighteen minutes into 2007's 'Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End' viewers have already witnessed the casual sexual assault of Miss Swan (turned into a joke), dozens of murders, the hanging of a child, the casual disposal of dozens of bodies, and the assumed rape and murder of a woman. And this movie is marketed to children. And THIS is how we got to 1 in every 3 young women being SEXUALLY ASSAULTED and no one even raising the alarm. This is how we got to 3 mass shootings in 3 days. "There have been more shootings than days so far this year and more shootings than at this point in any year since at least 2013. " By Annette Choi, CNN 01/25/2023 We have been feeding our society nothing but the imaginings of the most deranged and fucked up minds. And unless it stops... we are going to keep having more and more people trying to solve their problems through vengeful (yet strangely apathetic) violence. Just as Keanu Reeves and his ilk have been peddling for YEARS. If you want to see an end to the senseless violence - the only answer is to stop promoting it - and the sick minds that have pushed it upon our most impressionable - for decades. If you want to see peace - you have to buy peace - one STORY AT A TIME. Sincerely, The Storyteller “Yes. there is a human crisis because in today’s world we can contemplate the death or the torture of a human being with a feeling of indifference, friendly concern, scientific interest, or simple passivity. Yes. There is a human crisis. Since putting a person to death can be regarded with something other than the horror and scandal it ought to provoke. Since human suffering is accepted as a somewhat boring obligation, on a par with getting supply or having to stand in line for an ounce of butter.” |
Beware! Some stories begin at the end and finish in the middle!!
Also, please note: I'm a storyteller, NOT a writer. Archives
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