Three Minute Fiction

All things end in death.  Life is especially prone to this mortal weakness. Mr. Lytle was by no means a selfish man, or at least he never thought of himself as one. Her “disappearance,” however, only proved to inconvenience him. He did not know nor care about someone like her, but the world apparently did. In all honesty her death was the end to his life: with his reputation built up over a half century gone there was little else he had.  He never married, never had children that he would admit to, never saw the people who raised him and never lived the life they would have wanted.

And there he sat, alone and lonely. Two others sat just as alone, beside Mr. Lytle on a bench.  The plank stretched as long as the room yet it was no wider than a foot and was painful to sit on.  The room was dingy and the grime on the walls could tell a history of petty thieves and serial killers just through their pale and layered colors.  I don’t even know how they found me, of all people, or how they expect to convict me. Why I’m a model citizen. With some good lawyering I’ll be out of this in a pinch.  I need to get a hold of Sarah; Sarah will know what to do; Sarah always knows what to do.  His thoughts were interrupted before he was even able to begin panicking.  One of the men, the skinny one with bug eyes, pale skin, and a wife beater that smelled of gin, and a heavy cockney or welsh or whatever the hell accent, began to speak.

“Ey, fancy a smoke?” he asked half drunk and fully disappointed in Lytle’s little interest.

“I have a death wish,” chuckled Mr. Lytle, “but not by means of lung cancer.”

“Ah loik you, sir.  Wha’s yer name?”

“Lytle.  Frederic Lytle.”

“Oh, oih see.  Oih know oih ‘ad seen yer face! I ‘eard ‘bout you on the telly jus’ the other day!  The trial o’ the cent’ry, already! I’s only twen’y four’een an’ i’s go’uhnna be the trial o’ the cent’ry. They won’ e’en say wha’ i’ is tha’ you ‘ave dun! Jus’ tha’ you been arress’ed.”  Lytle smirked a touch and he looked away.  

“Yes, well they don’t even have enough to go to trial yet, so the vultures can calm down and take a rest from circling around me.  I’m not dead in the desert just yet! There’s always a way out. Always.” With that, Mr. Lytle scowled and then sat silently for what felt like ages. He wanted to die.  He felt like he was already dead. His image was certainly tarnished. And he went to sleep, awaiting the morning when his brother or assistant or someone else who cared for him but for whom he cared little would come bail him out. His empire had already fallen.

Thankful

I am thankful for Kay Kay.  Without her, I'd be lost (or at least more lost than I am already.)  She's always there with a pat on the back and a snack to make me feel better when I'm down.  She keeps me on task and reminds me that there are indeed people like herself to compete with when it comes time to apply to college (or in laymen's terms reminds me that I can always strive to work harder.)  She is an inspiration and a light to guide me to do better.  I wish I could try to be more like her kind self, always willing to lend a helping hand or a verbal smack to wake me up when I need a dose of reality.  Without Kay Kay, I'd probably not be doing this blog post now, trying to keep up in my classes, and just not giving up.  Thanks, Kay, for always being there when I need to vent about APUSH, feel guilty about not doing homework, and whenever I'm down.  Kay Kay is a model student and all around a model human being capable of anything to which she sets her mind, and I'm thankful such a caring and wonderful person can be a part of my life.

Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth has ambition.  She can see what needs to be done to get what she wants and will manipulate anyone she can to see her will carried out. Macbeth easily falls into her manipulation, but was also very susceptible.  He indeed wanted the same things as his wife, but needed a push or someone to tell him the evil he was to commit was justified.  Lady Macbeth, with her drive and ambition (not to mention her willingness to do whatever it takes to get what she wants,) was that push for Macbeth and created a huge rift in the fabric of Shakespeare's Scotland.  While Lady Macbeth could easily carry out her own plans, in a society as patriarchal as middle aged Britain, she simply cannot.  Her character becomes a personification do the struggle for power women fought for centuries and how, while their names rarely appear in the pages of history textbooks, their impacts throughout the ages have been enormous.  Her contributions to the history of Shakespeare's fictional Scotland, for better or worse, are analogous to the huge influence women have had throughout the world

Pardoner's Tale

Wanting to make a change, to be important, is something anyone can relate to.  In Geoffrey Chaucer's The Pardoner's Tale he depicts three young men out to do just that.  They decide they would kill death itself, but on their quest were distracted by their own mortal wants.  By seeking death out they ended up killing themselves; they did indeed find death.  The fight against nature, the struggle for survival, is as old as life itself and is a struggle mankind has dealt with during the entirety of its existence.

Humans have constantly fought their environment from cooling buildings in the summer to carving mountains for easier irrigation.  The constant battle between people and their natural opponents has led them to the society in which they now live.  The eradication of disease, comparable to death, is something which is at the forefront of modern technology.  As more is learnt about these diseases, though, they are easier and easier to weaponize.  Beyond simple biological warfare, the germophobic and antibiotic world now forming can only lead to disaster with disease resistant bugs and degrading immune systems.  In the same way trying to stop the unstoppable death lead to death, can trying to halt the ever evolving. world of disease lead to a new plague and entirely backfire?

Grendel and his Influences

Grendel is a creature of is environment.  This very human trait plays a major role in his character.  He grew up wanting nothing more than to be loved by a creature who couldn't communicate her love even if she had it.  At the very least she showed she cared enough to protect him, but he projected much more onto her.  This shaped him, just as the dragon and singer would eventually.  

Grendel simply wanted to know who he was and where he came from, something (like her love) his mother could never directly express to him.  The singer gave him some sort of answer.  He implied that Grendel was borne of Cain; Grendel interpreted the meaning of the song that he was eternally, unforgivably, and incurably evil.  When you're told time and time agin you're evil, you're bound to begin doing evil things.  

Grendel's visit to the dragon is in sharp contrast to the words of the shaper, however.  The dragon's nihilistic approach and worldview are stark in comparison to the defined and meaningful picture the singer painted.  In Grendel's mind these two things must have clashed greatly, and of course he prefers the dragons explanation as it doesn't (literally) demonize him and provides a certain justification for his future actions.  His meeting with the dragon also allowed Grendel to experience true fear, however, which also shapes the way he feels about the human and develops depth within his character as he is deeply conflicted with what he needs to do in his short and likely meaningless life.

Modern Day Grendel

          Every day is the same.  I wake up, I get dressed, I drink coffee, I read the paper, and then I go to work.  For me, though, the term work is a little misleading.  I don't work, per se, because, as they say "If you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life!"  And I really DO love what I do.  I'm a deliverer of justice.  You might say I'm a vigilante (and you might be right.)  See, I fight crimes, but I fight crimes before they're even committed.  It only makes sense to do it my way, and stop anyone who can do something evil from doing it (by killing them, of course.)   A long time ago, you see, I had a brother, Kit. One day, minding his business, the good ol' boys in blue decide it was time for a drug bust, but without much foresight.  They kicked in a door and there was a "small firefight" as the report read which Kit was "an unavoidable piece of collateral damage."  I suppose then, that every officer I happen to cure of their ailment of life, could be considered "collateral damage."  Unavoidable collateral damage of fighting crimes.  Noone should have to go through that.  So I stop them in the simplest, and most logical way.  I set traps, and once they arrive perhaps a small (read: large) explosion might pick a few off.  Or perhaps a bit of chlorine gas does the trick.  You never know until you respond to a call, and then... Well then you'd better be prepared to meet your maker.