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About Literature / Artist Premium Member Laura A.K.Female/Canada Recent Activity
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the DLDs, DLRs, the DDs, and a special something

DLDs:
Backyard GuerrillaI can hear the thralls moaning in the distance as they approach my property.  I pick up my binoculars and stand high on the roof, rising from my lawn chair (nailed down to the shingles).  They're slowly wandering over the hills.  I load my gun in anticipation.
I hear someone calling my name.  It has been a long time since I'd heard another human voice speak to me.  I had almost forgotten that we spoke instead of moaning with every jerk and wrench of movement we made.  I look down the street to see Posner, the crazy devil, running with all of his might from the horde, though his pace didn't need to be that quick.  Thralls couldn't run without snapping a limb or three.  He looks to be in good condition for someone I didn't expect to survive the infection.  When he gets closer, he spots me on my roof and darts into the front yard, scuttling up the drainpipe before taking a much-needed break.
"Where t
Hannah, This Is ItI wake up Saturday morning to a purple sky.  A pale lavender; similar to the color I wanted to paint the bathroom.  The house is quiet.
I rise and pace down the hallways to find that I am alone.  All of the beds are made and all of the clothes are put away neatly, but there is no sign of my family.  It's as if they were taken, and any sign of them was erased on the way out.  It is as if I have been alone on the farm the entire time.  Their shoes are still at the back door.  They weren't even wearing socks.
I wander onto the porch just as a rusted pickup truck turns onto the driveway, skidding down the loose dirt and gravel path between the wheat.  I can just make out Jacob in the front seat, his dog riding shotgun.
There is something wrong with the sky.  It is a purple that does not exist in nature.  An angry purple.  It contains rippled clouds that look like fingers held stern
Fable"Where'd you get a name like that?" I asked her, the night we first met.
She shrugged nonchalantly at the question, like she'd heard it a thousand times before.  "I was simply born to tell stories."
Fable found me at the bottom of another empty highball glass in the darkest corner of the bar, as she drank rye and water through a black plastic straw.  Save for the drink, she didn't look like she belonged there.  She was more like a lost college sophomore, her ID likely the top card in her wallet.
"Can I help you?" I groaned, my head held up by both of my hands.  Elbows on the table; mother would not approve.  She took a seat across the table, and introduced herself.  I asked my question, she offered her remark, and I found myself asking her a third question in less than thirty seconds.  "Can you tell me a story?"
The first tale she offered was of her entering the bar by herself.  "This is a sad dive, that's for sure.  There's not even a sign outside above the door.  You leave it up to c
Mono.One morning a black pillar appeared in the center of town, within the boundaries of the park and right outside of the library.  It stood at least thirteen feet tall and was as wide as a mature oak.  They deduced it was made out of some kind of polished stone.  Some guessed it was obsidian; others argued it was too strong to be such a fragile stone.  It could have been granite, but when was the last time you saw black granite in that quantity, and in that shape?
"We should knock it down and drag it away!" someone shouted.
But they were too afraid to touch it.
"Why not just leave it here?" another suggested.
But they wondered what would happen if they didn't do anything at all.
Whoever put it there didn't do it alone.  They'd need a truck to transport the thing, and they'd need some way to get it off the flatbed and stand it up straight.  But why go to all of that trouble for a pillar of rock?  Or was it part of someth
swear by the styx.I fell asleep listening to love songs and water pounding on the window pane.
It had been pouring rain for three long days, so water was gushing from beneath the manhole covers and the morning clouds were perpetually a canvas of rippled slate.  Citizens had removed the wheels from their cars to happily use the hover option on their way to work.  No one wanted their rims rusted.  
The airships wouldn’t be flying again until the sky cleared, in the meantime we were stuck within the city walls.  Some desperate souls had spoken of trekking into the outlands to continue work and play without being confined, but no one was that inane.  They would be in the city until we were under clear skies again.
I’m stubborn, you know, and that’s why I insisted on walking over to your building through the dampness and the sludge.  It came up to my knees in some places, particularly the troughs at the bottoms of hills.  Motorists who passed me by, skimmi
ApoapsisCadman is walking through the haze, carrying his severed right arm in his left.  The only thing I can hear are his footsteps on the soft ground; his boots brushing the remnants of grass.  Perhaps it is a game my mind is playing on itself.  I shouldn't be hearing anything.
I can feel the vibrations of the final shells exploding, but I do not hear them.  My eardrums were pounded until they shattered.
The haze that surrounds me is a mix of smoke and fog, blood and sweat.  It only lets a sliver of the sun through its veil.  Everything is a shade of slate, from the mud to the grass and to the bodies that seem to be spreading like the black plague, with the black plague.
Everything and everyone moves in slow motion.  Those on our side, as well as those with the enemy, are now nothing but hollow men.  Like Cadman, they wander aimlessly holding onto what was taken from them.  Severed limbs.  Their dignity.  We pounded each other into the Earth.  
We do not fight any longer.  We pick up th


DLRs:
You're DeadI didn’t know that Tim had disappeared until the police came knocking on Saturday morning.  They caught us all up on the events of the past sixteen hours.  Tim had told his mom that he was coming to visit me, and if he would be out too late to walk home on his own, he would stay at Sam’s house for the night.  Sam was interviewed too—I could see the police cars parked in front of his house down the street—but he gave the police the same answer that I had.
“I don’t know where he is.”
He had last been seen by his mom, wandering out to their property’s barn before supposedly heading in my direction.  Tim spent a lot of time out there if he wasn’t at school or with Sam and I.  He always had some kind of art project going on, usually involving ceramic mosaics or glass stuck to the surfaces of household objects.  He would come to school with cuts on his hands and arms and boast about the best thing ever.
Didn't WeEden on the Lake was a terrible tap revue.  There were a hundred blonde-blue-eyed dolls changing outfits thrice as a nod to the shows of a time before hydrogen bombs.  We’d lost the art of it somewhere in between that and napalm.  You could tell by looking at their footwork that at least half had been cavorting with the director in one way or another, though the ladies who could tap their way to heaven (if they wanted to) were sequestered in the back line.
The whole room smelled like dust and feathers.  I sighed onto the arm rest with a lapse of judgement to find that the last patron in my seat had left behind their gum, but my suit was only a twenty-dollar-find from the consignment shop.  You couldn’t pay for things with war bonds anymore like our daddies used to.  The crusty man in the ticket booth didn’t even offer a veteran’s discount.
There was a seat between me and a man still in his uniform who was trying his best not


DDs:
Mono.One morning a black pillar appeared in the center of town, within the boundaries of the park and right outside of the library.  It stood at least thirteen feet tall and was as wide as a mature oak.  They deduced it was made out of some kind of polished stone.  Some guessed it was obsidian; others argued it was too strong to be such a fragile stone.  It could have been granite, but when was the last time you saw black granite in that quantity, and in that shape?
"We should knock it down and drag it away!" someone shouted.
But they were too afraid to touch it.
"Why not just leave it here?" another suggested.
But they wondered what would happen if they didn't do anything at all.
Whoever put it there didn't do it alone.  They'd need a truck to transport the thing, and they'd need some way to get it off the flatbed and stand it up straight.  But why go to all of that trouble for a pillar of rock?  Or was it part of someth
The Silo Complex"You won't believe what I just saw in the field."
I sighed at Eloise in the doorway.  "Another dead raccoon?  How big was it this time?  You know it's just maggots, right?"
"No, that wasn't it.  I saw a man."
"Was it John?"
"No."
"Fox?"
"It was a man, but it wasn't really a man.  Almost a man."
"Almost a man?"  She had recently taken to wandering in the fields under gray skies, thinking that she'd find her answers among the abandoned farm equipment and rows of dried corn husks.  She never did.  Just raccoons.  I never heard anything about men who were almost men.  "How can someone be almost a man?"
"Never mind.  You don't believe me."
"Just tell me what he looked like."
"He looked like smoke."
I didn't realize what she meant until the next day when a woman who was almost a woman appeared outside the back door, peering through the window.  She was in the form of a woma
i had an out-of-body experience.I had an out-of-body experience at the age of thirty-one.
Every year between the ages of ten and eighteen, I sent a letter to NASA.  I told them a little bit about myself, the same general description year after year, and always insisted that despite my medical condition, I would one day love to sail through the stars.  My dream was to be out there in the universal abyss, exploring every unknown corner until we knew all that we could.
Art would taunt, “Sick kids don’t go to space” before Mom slapped the back of his shoulder with a spatula.
NASA was as nice as they could be, but the bottom line was that we all knew I couldn’t do it.  The spaceship would need to have extra space just for the amount of medication and equipment I’d have to bring along, and that was if I could even survive the zero-gravity environment.  Whoever wrote the responses encouraged me to keep dreaming, and boasted about donations the association made to various sickle cell charities.
The Unemployed Assassin“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Jim?”
I crossed my legs in an attempt to get comfortable, but it only made my sitting position worse.  The fancy couches in Dr. Valencia’s office had less support than a deadbeat dad and she probably only chose them because it made the room seem like a still from a movie.  It might have worked if I was a pretty young lady lounging about, but it only made me more uncomfortable.
“Well, I’m going to go to jail if I’m not here every week,” I replied.  “That was the bargain.”
“That’s not really what I was asking about.”  She knew the truth, but just wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of hearing me say it.
I kept my mouth shut and let her look like she was anticipating something for five minutes.  If I could use up the whole hour doing that, I was set.
She tapped her fingers on her ledger.  “You know, Jim, we’re having the


That special something:
Daily Lit Deviant - @Laura-LieDaily Lit Deviant is an article put out on a daily basis throughout the year that is devoted to showing the work and accomplishments of one writer per article and presenting exemplary pieces of their work. It is based off of bowie-loon123's series of articles of the same name.
Join me in welcoming laurotica as our Daily Lit Deviant for February 6th, 2014.
Nominated by homunculus888 and BloodshotInk
:iconLaura-Lie:
"laurotica often gives sci fi stories a twist, or takes a common theme like post-apocalyptic times and comes at it from a different angle." says homunculus888.

From the author's description:
i had an out of body experience
the other day, her name was Jesus
and for her, everyone cried

What deviants are saying about this piece
Finally, science fiction that doesn't involve b

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Wishlist

  • Reading: Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo
  • Watching: video flow
Sci-fi story inspired by my reading of Cosmos will be up by the end of the weekend!  Yay!

Also, I've finally upgraded my phone, so if you'd like to follow my shenanigans and bookish/writing adventures via Instagram, you can find me Here.

Other than that, not much else is new with me.  I'm really enjoying the city and school is going well :thumbsup: Next weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, however, so I'm heading home on the train!  Yay!

What's new with you guys?

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laurotica
Laura A.K.
Artist | Literature
Canada
Is that the end of the world, or are you just happy to see me?

I'm a 22 year old civil engineering student puttering around somewhere in Canada. I just finished my BA in Geography and that's probably the direction I'm headed in, but there's something I'd rather be doing. I love writing about dark, gritty things, and you would never guess it from seeing me in person. I've written 15 novels and also have 2 novellas to my name. My favorite topics to tackle are: the apocalypse, space travel and military fiction. I got the gift of writing and love of the strange and obscure from my dad's dad; born in 1911 Russia and who believed aliens walked the Earth.

I also (used to) blog about music at: fromalt2zen.blogspot.com/ It's more of a casual hobby, and practice for writing for Rolling Stone.

But who am I outside of writing? When I'm not in line at Tim Hortons, trying new nail polish shades or buying 5 books at a time at Value Village, I'm just a somewhat-normal girl navigating through my twenties. I'm Scottish, Irish and British on my mom's side, and Russian Mennonite on my dad's side. Fate made me the oldest of 3; I've got a younger sister and brother. I need 4 things to function on a daily basis: coffee (one sugar with soy milk), The Simpsons, an hour to myself to read a book (a good YA or Stephen King), and a playlist that never ends.

Twitter: Laurotica
Tumblr: laurotica
Youtube: Comrade Laura
Goodreads: Here

"Scotch and splenda. Tastes like splenda, gets you drunk like scotch."

LET'S DO THIS. LET'S DO SOMETHING. 

38%
5 deviants said Tap dancing revues & Frank Sinatra
31%
4 deviants said The first chapter or two of what I want to be a novel
23%
3 deviants said Teenagers not knowing what they're doing
8%
1 deviant said Science fiction a la Carl Sagan
0%
No deviants said Husks

2014 book list

Looking For Alaska by John Green
Divergent by Veronica Roth
A Dance With Dragons by George R.R. Martin
City of Bones by Cassandra Clare
Cress by Marissa Meyer
City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare
A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness
City of Glass by Cassandra Clare
Speaker For The Dead by Orson Scott Card
Dying of the Light by George R.R. Martin
Drinking and Tweeting and other Brandi Blunders by Brandi Glanville
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas
City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare
The Dying Earth by Jack Vance
Year Zero by Rob Reid
Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas
The Stand by Stephen King
Red Dragon by Thomas Harris
Bitten by Kelley Armstrong
Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell
City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare
Shadow of Night by Deborah Harkness
City of Heavenly Fire by Cassandra Clare
Daughter of Smoke & Bone by Laini Taylor
Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler
Mr. Mercedes by Stephen King
Stolen by Lucy Christopher
The Boy In The Striped Pajamas by John Boyne
Partials by Dan Wells
The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood
Saga, Volume One by Brian K. Vaughn & Fiona Staples
Days of Blood & Starlight by Laini Taylor
Rebel Belle by Rachel Hawkins
Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
Saga, Volume Two by Brian K. Vaughn & Fiona Staples
Saga, Volume Three by Brian K. Vaughn & Fiona Staples
Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge
Boxers by Gene Luen Yang
Saints by Gene Luen Yang
Landline by Rainbow Rowell
The Assassin's Blade by Sarah J. Maas
Hyperion by Dan Simmons
Misery by Stephen King
Heir of Fire by Sarah J. Maas
Ender in Exile by Orson Scott Card
Cosmos by Carl Sagan
The Silence of The Lambs by Thomas Harris
Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo
Mennonite In A Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen
We Were Liars by E. Lockhart
The Maze Runner by James Dashner
Dreams of Gods & Monsters by Laini Taylor

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:iconr9a:
R9A Featured By Owner 23 hours ago
Thank you for the fav! :halfliquid:
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:iconeremitik:
Eremitik Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014
I hope you enjoy browsing through my gallery, and please do not hesitate to ask a question or leave a critique if you see something you feel needs it.
I take all constructive criticism into consideration and I may present an argument against such criticism if I feel your points warrant it.

Thank you again.
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Eremitik Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014
Thank you for the Watch.
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thetaoofchaos Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2014   Writer
Thanks!
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Joe-Roberts Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
 Thanks for faving :)
Halo by Joe-Roberts 
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AlecBell Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2014
Thanks very much for your :+fav:
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BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2014
Thanks for the fave :)
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SilverInkblot Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for faving Bibliophilia :)
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StormBringer23 Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014
Thank you for taking the time to read me and finding it worth :+fav:ing!. :heart:
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relativi-t Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2014  Student Writer
Thanks for the favorite! :D
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