Up until last night, I always used AbiWord to do all of my word processing. It's a lightweight word processor that has plenty of nice features for it's size. But I stopped using it.

It's not a bad program, but I decided to switch to OpenOffice's Writer program. It had more of the features I need working in suitable fashion. Abiword's always growing, and that's good, but in it's light size it also lacks certain things.

I got openoffice because someone told me that it could open WPD (word perfect) files. And it did, to my delight. You see, I have a collection of old stuff that was inaccessible to me because I used to have word perfect back then, and Abiword couldn't open the files. I came across some rather luxurious works of mine. I'm going to post the here now, since I enjoy torturing you. 

The Revolution 

         Through a dark corridor walked a small man dressed in a dark shroud. His pace was slow, and carried great burden with every step. His face was covered, and unable to be seen from any direction. This was okay, considering that his face was not needed. With every step, an echo could be heard from the cold stone on the floor.

         He was not alone. Watching him closely are several of this man’s peers. They made not a sound, for if they did, it would echo as strongly as his foot steps. They were younger, but age did not matter. And like the man, they wore robes that were heavy and beautiful in make. Their concentration in watching the shrouded man was intense, and one could sense an unnatural power in their eyes.

         Something important was going to happen, but it was not something that would pass without great loss. Memories of brighter times flooded this man hidden from sight. Memories that were now painful to him. How had things gone so wrong?

         He quietly removed something from a belt he was wearing underneath his cover. It was a small book, and many numbers were illustrated on its old cover. A name came to mind as he silently looked over the cover. Ronald. He was a magician of mathematics, and mastered the art of using numbers as a form of magical power. Ronald was also a man of great wisdom. Quite a few years in the past, this man was was just as solitary and lonely as he seems to be when walking that corridor. In those distant times, he had no friends, and much less a family. He was simply a wanderer with no goal. He did not even have a name until he met Ronald.

         He considered his memories of his past. They took the form of a school. Ronald was already far more intelligent than any of the other children in this school. He was curious about the boy that unexpectedly wandered onto the campus during a sunny day.

         “What do they call you?” he had asked, after pulling the boy away from the sight of others.

         “I don’t have a name. I never did have one.” replied the boy quietly, unable to keep his eyes off the ground.

         Ronald sighed, and looked straight into the boy’s eyes, calmly speaking, “You need a name. It’s something important to have. If you don’t even know yourself by something, then you can never get anywhere in life.”

         “I don’t know.” the boy said.

         “Well, then I dub you, Anima Paradoss.”

         The boy looked up for the first time ever, with a strange look on his face, he mumbled, “What? Why not something like George, or Billy, or Roger?”

         Ronald laughed, “Oh, hush! Those are boring names, and besides, with some tweaking, your name means ‘paradox soul’ in the ancient language. Doesn’t that sound good?”

         The boy smiled, it did sound kind of interesting. He nodded, “Okay.. Anima. It sounds weird, but I’m sure it’ll be alright once I’m used to it.”

         Such a memory to think at a time like this. He thought as he put the numbered book down on a pedestal. A click could be heard underneath the book, as if the book was the key to lock. No other sound could be heard. The silence, now that Anima realized it, felt like it was crushing him.

         Anima is my name, and Ronald helped me find myself just by giving me that name. He reflected on adventurous times with Ronald, but was shortly interrupted by the fact that he had to move on. Just like before, steps would echo on the cold stone that decorated all parts of the room. The others watched him, pleased that he was making such a sacrifice. They had no care for Anima, only their greed. Anima knew that well, as he was slowly becoming the same as them. Time seemed so dreadfully slow in that room.

         Step. Step... And a deep breath.

         He finally arrived to another pedestal. It looked the same as the one he first visited, but this time, Anima removed a pouch of seeds. They were seeds made by the god of trees, who liked to call himself Billy Pierce. He was a very active person who was often thought of as strange and insane. Oh, how I hated you. thought Anima as he looked into the bag, making sure everything inside was in order. Anima recalled how Billy had taught him about a bright and hopeful future. That was something that Anima did not have at the time.

Even with a name, Anima was far from what could be considered a person. He had no hopes or dreams, and that caused him to be thought of as a zombie. Billy’s absurdity proved that no one could live without a dream. That is something that kept Anima strong for all these years, especially when he was trapped with people who strongly rejected such ideas. It was all he had to keep himself sane.

         As he placed the pouch on the pedestal, it made the same clicking noise. There was only one more sacrifice left to be made. To the surprise of everyone, including himself, he walked quickly to the last one. Something about him was suddenly different. He was somehow happy, and his memories energized him. He now knew that he would not give up so easily.

         At the last pedestal, there was nothing. The others had a slot to fit the items that were placed in them. This one, however, just stared back at Anima. As he looked at it, he could sense that it was sentient, and had mocked him at every step on the way. Anima ignored this feeling, and closed his eyes. He envisioned the world, and every part of it. It was now a terrible, dead planet. Other than it’s size, it had few qualities that would distinguish it from an asteroid. It was a depressing thing to think about. Then he thought about the future of the planet. As he tried to conceive what would happen in the many years to come, the planet was somehow regaining it’s beauty. The grey lands of waste were slowly being transformed into what once was. Anima smiled. This was the real future. His peers would fail in their conquest.

         When he stopped focusing on the future, he suddenly realized that the pedestal was gone. Anima looked around to see the others still remained, and his peers were looking on. The ritual was almost complete. He looked over to the end of the room, and found an inhospitable bed made of marble sitting, waiting for him. The last part of this ritual was to give his life. The process was not known to him, but it would happen once he would lie there. He walked over with a fast pace. Faster than the others expected of someone who was going to unwillingly give their life to a cause they did not accept. They became suspicious at his sudden confidence.

         Anima reached the bed, and as planned, he sat and slowly laid down on it. It was uncomfortable and cold, but he didn’t mind it. With nothing but a smile on his face, he thought of his friends, and felt at peace. He had much work to do after this. As he waited, he heard sounds of machinery in effect, and just as he heard a loud crash, it was over.

         The others had anxiously left to look over the bed which Anima had sacrificed himself on. There was nothing there. No evidence of him was found at all. They feared that something may have gone wrong, but actually, something had gone truly right.

         Soon, no more would the lonely, barren planet suffer under these people, Anima would make sure of that as a spirit, guiding the world to a better tomorrow in a way that these terrible people could not control.

My Brother and I

       Something happened earlier today, but I don’t want to think about it. I really don’t want to think about it at all. Even if people are going to ask me about it, and they will, it’s not something I can answer to.

         My brother, who cared a lot for me, was going to pick me up after I got off work. He always did. Work wasn’t going well for me today. I was nervous, and couldn’t get images of terror out of my mind. I don’t know what exactly was going on with me, but these visions had an unusually powerful effect on me today. They all involved a man and a woman, and I felt connected to them somehow. I shouldn’t think about it, it only makes the feeling of desperation worse. But in these visions, the man was leaving. It looked like the woman was upset about this. What does it mean?
         My brother is a few years older than me, and is the best family I ever had. Our parents were never very close to either of us. I would feel lost if my brother left me. Thankfully he plans to stay here in town for a long time. He is usually on time to pick me up, but not this time. It’s been half an hour past the usual time he comes around. It worries me, but I know he might just be busy today. He won’t let me down.
         I watch the cars pass by the busy street in front of the building I work in. Every time I see a car that is black in the distance, I get excited. Any of them could possibly be him! However, it isn’t so. They simply rush by past me, as if I wasn’t there. Sometimes I wonder if I do exist to people who don’t know me. Now it’s been an hour, and I still see no sign of my brother.
         The cool wind is picking up, and I feel cold and helpless in my uniform. I have nothing else to wear, so the breeze feels almost as if it is stabbing me from every direction. It’s not fair to have to wait, even for my brother, so I dragged myself up to my feet. It was tough, since I had been sitting still for so long. After warming myself up a little, it was time to go. It wasn’t a long ways home, so things would be okay. I finally resigned to walking.
         I don’t know the way too well, but I know it enough to avoid getting lost. It’s getting dark, too. The lights of the streets are lighting up, guiding me on my way. It was a quiet evening, and not many people were driving along. I felt alone and vulnerable in realization of this. And I remembered those visions I was having again, since there wasn’t much else to think about. It was just like before, but the man was looking more familiar. When I tried to place a name to the image of him in my mind, I could only think of my brother's name, strangely. I still could not recognize the woman. It was as if she had no face at all.
         As I stepped along on the concrete, I looked over and saw a travel office. I’ve been there before. Once I had to fly out of state, and they handled things for me. I should have fond memories of their good service, but instead I feel anxious. I feel a void in my heart. What an odd thing to be feeling and thinking about. Trying to push it out of my mind, I decide to continue to our house. He’s probably there. My mind is almost blank on the way, save for a sort of mental route I am following to him. I envision him at the end, staring at me emotionlessly. It does not fit him to look that way. Why would I imagine him with such a face?
         I finally reach him. I mean, I reach our house. He doesn't seem to be home. Things are dark everywhere, and it seems like he will never return. Shaking my head, I enter the house and relax.

         There was no point in thinking about where my brother might be, so I turned on the television and prepared dinner for myself. The hissing and sizzling of the cooking made it hard to hear what was happening in the news, but I could tell by watching. They were drafting for war. Drafting? How odd a thing to do. They haven’t done it in so long. I wonder if they would take my brother. But I doubt that. If they did, I’d drag him back and hide him in my closet, that’s for sure. I couldn’t stand the thought of him going anywhere, especially not in danger.

         Months later, he isn’t around. Ever since that day, I have never seen him. But I know he is with me. Others say he was out fighting for our country, but he is here with me. He would never leave me.
         I began to hate people who told me that my brother was off fighting a war. It was ridiculous. He was not the type to even think of using a gun, or hurting others. Most of all, I have fond memories of him being with me every day. We talk about everything, like how our days went, what we want for our future, and anything that came to my mind.

A Day in the Life of Adventurers

       They had woken in the darkness of a cavern they were infiltrating. It was so dark that often times they wondered if they were really awake at first. Thiumal, always an early riser, was the first to stir.
         “Ouch! Fool walls! I ought to...” was what everyone heard after a large bang of a helmet. He let loose a string of curses and foul language, and the sound of his fist hitting the rocky wall of the cavern could also be heard.
         “Oh stop it, you!” muttered SirX-Wolf, pulling the dwarf away from the wall. He was having a bit of trouble dragging him away, since nothing gets in the way of a dwarf and his enemies. Even rock walls.
         Snake finally stirred from his sleep, and casted his only spell, Light. When he had finished chanting, a light from nowhere had lit the surroundings. It looked like an endless tunnelin both directions, but it was not a long walk out. Despite this, Snake still wished they could leave and travel outside in the sun’s warm light. With a sigh, he picked up all of this things and put them on. He also noticed by that point that everyone else had been awakened by Thiumal’s ranting.
         “Do shut up! It’s just a wall, you fool.” Darknux had yelled as he wiped his eyes.
         “I will not shut up, sir. Not by your command, anyhow. I’m done yelling.” Thiumal smiled, as if nothing happened.
         They quickly had a small breakfast and gathered their things. They were carrying a heavy load, due to a great find in this same cavern earlier. Even the virtuous Snake, and the wise Lenaglou were grinning in anticipation of the money they will get for selling the items off. They were the ones who would always preach that it was unwise to be materialistic!
         “Think we’ll find any more treasure in this place? I don’t think we could even carry it if we do.” asked Babe.
         Darknux rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I think you are right about carrying, but who knows about finding. These places have been used for who knows how many years.”
         Thiumal laughed, “Who cares! With all of this we have now, I think we could last for a good five months at least.”
         “Even if we, say, continue breaking our armor every other day? It’s expensive to fix those, you know.” Lengalou smiled as he pointed to Thiumal’s platemail.
         Thiumal grinned, but turned his head from the elf, muttering, “Hah! But we have the smith repair this every time, because if I were to fall, your delicate bones would probably crunch at the lightest of taps.”
         The elf shurgged, “Yes, I suppose so. But I’m sure there are plenty of times when you needed me to survive. Like that time, I suppose, when we were fighting the Fire Stalkers? You couldn’t even scratch those. I could fell any of them in a single spell, right?”
         The dwarf rolled his eyes and ignored him for now, to the relief of the others. A after a good ten minutes of walking, they came upon an intersection in the tunnel. In one direction, Babe made out a person who appeared to be a ranger. She could identify him by the signature ranger clothes that they all seemed to enjoy wearing. Luckily, their quiet travel had not alerted him of their presence yet.
         “Just a ranger? It should be nothing to worry about. Let’s see what’s going on over there.” Snake suggested. They walked over to the man, trying to appear as peaceful as possible, but also weary and prepared for anything.
         The ranger looked over to them sharply, demanding, “What do you lot want?”
         “Well, sir, we were just exploring and thought we’d have a short chat. About the issues, you know.” Darknux said.
         “Hmm.. I don’t have to tell you nothing. Except that I won’t let you out here alive. I can tell you have found some of my precious jewels!” the ranger angrily pointed to SirX-Wolf, who was wearing an expensive looking ring that was fitted with a large red ruby. The ruby had glimmered, as if happy to find it’s master.
         “If you don’t give me that, and everything else you’ve likely taken, I’ll have to hurt ya good.” the ranger declared.
         “Well, I won’t let you have this. You should protect your wares more carefully. Our friend picked the lock with incredible ease!” Darknux laughed.
         The ranger was very unhappy with that response, which was obvious when he held his staff in both hands, signaling to someone the adventurers could not see. Thiumal and Snake stepped up front, pushing Darknux behind them, ready to fight. They readied their weapons, Thiumal with his axe made of amber, and Snake with his sword of crystal. The ranger was not impressed, and neither were several others who emerged from the shadows. The ranger had friends!
         Both parties stared at each other, quickly formulating a plan of action. Then as if someone had instructed them to go, they all went at each other fiercely. Snake was much quicker than any of the fighters, swinging his powerful blade, cutting the thigh of one of the rangers, a fairly fat one, he now noticed. Thiumal’s mighty axe then was heard crashing against the armor of another ranger, who was a rough and burly man. SirX-Wolf timidly joined in the fight against the ranger’s leader. He had learned something of battling by observing his friends, and felt that he could at least avoid fatal wounds.
         As the dwarf and paladin withdrew their completed attacks, they both did their best to avoid or deflect the attacks their chosen opponents were returning to them. The rangers, as expected, were very fast, and many of their attacks were simply too quick to stop with the relatively heavy weapons that they carried. Darknux was hard at work, preparing a healing spell for whoever would need it first. The rangers thankfully were too busy to notice and subdue him. Lenaglou and Babe had stood close to each other, standing by in the case a spell or two would be needed to give them the upper hand. They often had to run around to give themselves a more strategic position. Such was the life of spell casters in battle.
         Thiumal parried an attack that would have given him a nasty blow to his neck. And returned it with a huge swing, cutting the rangers’ arms deeply. Thiumal laughed with merriment, even though his legs were not feeling quite well after being struck a good many times. While the ranger was distracted by the injury he received, Thiumal looked over to Snake, who was not doing well. Snake was bleeding on the forehead, and was having trouble with his opponent, who was still very quickly moving and striking.
         Darknux used this best healing spell, Strong Cure, and Snake immediately felt a lot better as the magic seemingly erased his wounds. “Thank you, friend!” he called out, and Darknux smiled in return, preparing for his next cure. While Snake, SirX-Wolf, and Thiumal dealt with the particularly skillful leader of the small subordinate rangers, Lenaglou and Babe approached the two wounded rangers that the fighters had ignored.
         “Excuse us!” Lenaglou said to call their attention. As the fallen rangers alarmingly looked up to the two, Lenaglou immediately used his Fire ball spell, and Babe summoned a lightning bolt from her hands. Both elements struck the wounded rangers, and they had no chance of surviving. The two rangers fell down, out cold while burning and shaking with electricity at the same time. A painful fate indeed.
         “Two down!” Babe called out to the others, but her happiness drained when she saw both Thiumal and Snake losing their battle. They were both low on the ground, trying to get away, but it was futile. The ranger leader had a large hammer which he somehow pulled out of Thiumal’s bag. Swinging it around mightily, he attemped to make a fatal blow to Snake’s head, but before he could quite do it, Darknux used the spell Fire Blast, which seemed particularly effective against the ranger leader, as his clothes caught fire and he screamed in both confusion and pain. Thiumal struggled a bit and finally stood up, and had brought his axe down on the burning ranger leader. They were relieved, both to have survived such powerful enemies, and because they didn’t have it in their heart to let the man suffer burning to death.
         “Well!” Lenaglou said happy, but dared not speak more, after already receiving a glare look from Thiumal. Instead, he searched the pockets of their enemies for additional treasures and money they may hold. Sadly, the rangers had little of interest.
         “All of that effort for nothing, huh?” Thiumal groaned.
         “Actually, we learned a little lesson. That we’re hopeless in terms of armor care.” Darknux pointed to Thiumal and Snake’s armor, which were both falling apart.
         “What? Not again! Curse this, they don’t make armor like they used to, I guess.” Thiumal mumbled. Snake shrugged.
         “How much did it cost us to repair that last time? It must have been about 40000 gold. I estimate that 90% of the gold we found here will be gone due to repairs. Thank’s a lot!” Darknux whined.
         Grumbling, they gathered their possessions once again and decided it was time to get out of the cavern. They were too annoyed to continue on for now. Adventuring is the pits, that’s certain.

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