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What started out as a personal art project has turned into a collaborative endeavor. The premise is simple: write an exactly 1000 word long story as pertaining to or inspired by an original image. The vision is to share stories that are worth telling through visual art and language. Join in or enjoy!
JAN 11
4
Peacemakers
Author: James Dial
Image Info: Photograph: The Night People
Image by: Shaleena
Photograph: The Night People by Shaleena - http://shaleena.deviantart.com/art/The-Night-People-120379769
These was good kids once, I thought to myself. I'd watched them growing up for years. Here I am, rocking in my chair on the porch listening to them brag about running drunk through the streets. Don't know why they come here. Maybe because I just listen and don't let on how this old grandpa sees all the growing up they still need.
Their stories prove my point. Skipping school, staying high, fighting, rampaging through the neighborhood earning themselves the name “gangsta”. Nothing I didn't do when I was their age, but the years had changed me.
Something in their tone scared me that day, though. If they think hunting down some punks who'd done something stupid could right the wrongs... I knew I had to say something, stop them, before they did something you can't undo – and so I spoke.
Children, check it out, I'm going to lay some truth on you. This one time, me and my boys was in the car headed to bust some skulls. Bohemian Rhapsody was on the radio, our 'peacemakers' in our laps. We was dumb, man, thinking we was bullet-proof because we was young.
We'd gone to do what we thought the Cops couldn't. Those Punks was thinking they'd get away with taking a life from our family, but our vengeance and fury had spawned vigilante justice.
Now see, we heard The Dudes was going to be there to protect the hood. They'd just gotten out of prison for roughing someone up too hard. The Dudes had it bad, man. Wrong end of the stick, I guess. God, the Devil, or the Fates, whatever you believe in, just wouldn't let them catch a break. They was poor, sure, but everything was bad for them. Things got worse no matter what they did, shifting from survival to misfortune all through the day, every day.
You dig?
Now, we was on the other end of things. Just a car full of dumb, getting in trouble with The Law, driving around causing a ruckus and 'disturbing the peace'. We took The Peace to mean that conformity was winning in the war against creativity, so my opinion was that Cops needed to be made into a public spectacle of foolishness. Those 'peacemakers' couldn't do nothing, anyway.
Boy, did we raise hell! Even the preachers would be like, 'Damn kids!' People thought we was hopeless. Lost causes. Not like we cared, we didn't have dads or moms. Our lives was wrapped up in chains and struggle, gagged or at least muffled inside ourselves without expression, not able to speak or be heard because of the lack of opportunity called 'growing up in the projects'.
You feel me?
The world we knew was consuming, assuming, abusing, defusing our dreams, deflating our egos. It was a stream of radio stations and half-closed eyelids, advertisements and TV shows, run by blind men too ignorant to see the immorality in manipulating the very hearts of men. Couldn't stop the denial and avoidance, so we'd lost all hope and faith in the world. Like an old silver chain, people get tarnished and lose sight of who they are. The product of our environment was men that we thought could never change. Like The Dudes.
Now, The Dudes knew that when your eyes adjust to the dark even a point of light can blind you, so when we tried our hand at darkness, they saw we was fake. They knew darkness. They were the types to face Death three times a day; should he come their way again, they'd say 'wazzup' and shake his hand. But they had been humbled by prison somehow, only we couldn't see that yet.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself, you know?
We got there, turned the music down and stepped out of the car. It was dark and we didn't see the Dudes chilling in their jet-black Impala with the engine off. It got cold, things got tense quick. My nerves felt ready to snap.
I was creeping slow, snaking my way up the path to the porch with my gun ready to go off any moment, my footsteps backed up by the nearly audible sound of nervous heartbeats. I stepped on the creaky porch and cocked my shotgun. Cha-Chk... It was the loudest thing I ever heard.
Suddenly we saw headlights up the road, but not The Dudes' Impala. There we were holding guns looking like red-handed thugs, so I kicked open the door just in time to hear the back door slam shut. It hit me: we're being ambushed! I spun, trying to see but blinded by the headlights, dazed, shocked; I had guessed right – up pulled a van full of local gang-bangers. As the car whipped around, I was thinking, These Punks got connections!
When you're looking down a barrel of cold metal, you think about a few things. How do I get away? Can I win? Am I going to die? This wasn't worth it! My mind in a fog, I didn't notice The Dudes get out of their Impala.
Funny, we wanted to fix a corrupt world, but The Dudes had more than enough of broken lives and helplessly watching the ignorant lose everything. Their spirits had changed in prison, and my guess is they wanted to keep us from following in their footsteps. I still wonder...
Anyhow, they were pissed, watching their enemy – Regret – about to walk off with our souls. For a moment we were innocent in their eyes, and so their goal shifted from just watching over the neighborhood to waging war against our potential mistakes, even dying for them if need be. In the panic and the muzzle flashes, I remember the silhouettes of the Peacemakers as they stepped in and cried: 'Run!'
Leaning back in my chair, I said, “They took the bullets for us. Wish I'd known better. But you listen now, it ain't too late for y'all.
You dig?”
"My name is and my email address is (I understand that this is required but also, I know that it will not show up. Thanks for keeping my email info discreet!). I think this story is interesting enough to comment on, so I just wanted to say:
That's all. Thanks for listening."
- Me
4 people had something to say about “Peacemakers”
This story is intersting but make more good stories
Rahil on June 2nd, 2013
waooooooooooooooooo.its a good story.i really like this.
talhajahan on June 4th, 2013
this story is a bit confusing to me but very good suspense and thrill. A bit scary too.
dhrumil das on November 25th, 2013
I am doing a writing unit at uni and my last assessment was to write a 1000 word short story which I did but I found it difficult to keep to the 1000 word limit. I went on a search to see if it could be done. I loved this short story and thought it deserved to be shared.
Toni on June 3rd, 2014
January 2011
October 2010
December 2009
August 2009
The Timekeeper (9)
Thanksgiving (4)
This Boy and His Bicycle (4)
Peacemakers (4)
Protected by Creative Commons license cc by-nc-nd - basically, this.
In so many words, please respect the artists posted on this site and don't change or sell our work. But by all means, go ahead and share it with proper attribution (or just send people here ;D ). We worked hard on our art, so be cool and give credit where credit is due. If you have any questions or requests to reprint, please email inquiry -at- exactly1000words.com. Thanks.
Shameless plug: this is a custom wordpress theme that John designed.
อ่าน EDUCATORSJOIN STORIESFOR ใน อะไรเริ่มออกเป็นโครงการศิลปะส่วนบุคคลได้เปิดเข้าแข่งขันร่วมกัน ประทับใจเป็นเรื่องง่าย: เขียนเรื่องยาวเป็นคำว่า 1000 ต้น หรือแรงบันดาลใจภาพต้นฉบับ วิสัยทัศน์คือการ แบ่งปันเรื่องราวที่จะบอกทางทัศนศิลป์และภาษา เข้าร่วม หรือเพลิดเพลินกับ11 JAN 4 Peacemakersผู้เขียน: โทรศัพท์ Jamesข้อมูลภาพ: ถ่าย: คนกลางคืนภาพโดย: Shaleenaภาพถ่าย: คืนคน โดย Shaleena - http://shaleena.deviantart.com/art/The-Night-People-120379769เหล่านี้เคยเด็กดี ฉันคิดกับตัวเอง ได้เห็นพวกเขาเติบโตสำหรับปี นี่ฉัน โยกในเก้าอี้ของฉันบนระเบียงฟังไป brag เกี่ยวกับเมาผ่านถนนทำงาน ไม่รู้จะมาทำไมที่นี่ อาจ เพราะฉันเชื่อฟัง และไม่ให้ในวิธีนี้ปู่เก่าเห็นทั้งหมดเติบโตขึ้น พวกเขายังได้เรื่องราวของพวกเขาพิสูจน์จุดของฉัน ข้ามโรงเรียน พักสูง ต่อสู้ rampaging ผ่านย่านรายได้ตัวเองชื่อ "gangsta" ไม่มีอะไรที่ไม่ได้ทำเมื่อผมอายุของพวกเขา แต่ปีก็เปลี่ยนแปลงฉันบางอย่างในเสียงของพวกเขากลัวฉันวันนั้น แม้ว่า ถ้าพวกเขาคิดว่า การล่าสัตว์ลง punks บางที่ก็ทำสิ่งที่โง่ไม่ขวาการค้น... ผมรู้ว่า ผมจะพูดอะไรบางอย่าง หยุด พวกเขา ก่อนที่พวกเขาได้สิ่งที่คุณไม่สามารถยกเลิก – และดัง นั้นฉันพูดเด็ก ตรวจสอบ ฉันจะวางความจริงบางอย่างกับคุณ เวลาหนึ่งนี้ ฉันและเด็กผู้ชายของฉันขึ้นรถมุ่งหน้าไปที่หน้าอกบางทิ้งอยู่ระเกะระกะ โบฮีเมียนแรปโซดีทางวิทยุ เรา 'peacemakers' ในรอบของเราได้ เราได้ใบ้ มนุษย์ คิดมากกระสุน เพราะน้อยมากเราได้ไปทำอะไรเราคิดว่า ตำรวจจะไม่สามารถ คิด Punks เหล่านั้นพวกเขาจะได้ไปถ่ายชีวิตจากครอบครัวของเรา แต่การล้างแค้นและความโกรธของเราก็เกิดธรรม vigilanteตอนนี้ดู ที่เราได้ยิน Dudes เป็นไปได้มีการ ป้องกันแม่เบี้ย พวกเขาจะเพิ่งรับจากเรือนจำสำหรับ roughing คนค่าหนักเกินไป Dudes ที่มีมันดี คน ปลายไม้ผิด ฉันเดา พระเจ้า ปีศาจ หรือ Fates สิ่งที่คุณเชื่อใน เพียงไม่ให้จับตัวแบ่ง พวกเขาถูกดี แน่นอน แต่ทุกอย่างไม่ดีสำหรับพวกเขา สิ่งที่แย่ไม่ว่าสิ่งที่พวกเขาได้ มีขยับจากรอดไปไปหมดหัวใจวัน ทุกวันนั้นขุดตอนนี้ เรามีอยู่สุดของสิ่ง เพียงแค่รถของใบ้ รับปัญหากับกฎหมาย ขับรถเที่ยวสาเหตุของ ruckus และ 'รบกวนความสงบสุข' เราเอาความสงบหมายความว่า ให้สอดคล้องได้ชนะในสงครามกับความคิดสร้างสรรค์ ดังนั้นผมคิดได้ว่า ตำรวจต้องทำเป็นปรากฏการณ์ที่สาธารณะของความโง่ ที่ 'peacemakers' ไม่ทำอะไร อย่างไรก็ตามBoy, did we raise hell! Even the preachers would be like, 'Damn kids!' People thought we was hopeless. Lost causes. Not like we cared, we didn't have dads or moms. Our lives was wrapped up in chains and struggle, gagged or at least muffled inside ourselves without expression, not able to speak or be heard because of the lack of opportunity called 'growing up in the projects'.You feel me?The world we knew was consuming, assuming, abusing, defusing our dreams, deflating our egos. It was a stream of radio stations and half-closed eyelids, advertisements and TV shows, run by blind men too ignorant to see the immorality in manipulating the very hearts of men. Couldn't stop the denial and avoidance, so we'd lost all hope and faith in the world. Like an old silver chain, people get tarnished and lose sight of who they are. The product of our environment was men that we thought could never change. Like The Dudes.Now, The Dudes knew that when your eyes adjust to the dark even a point of light can blind you, so when we tried our hand at darkness, they saw we was fake. They knew darkness. They were the types to face Death three times a day; should he come their way again, they'd say 'wazzup' and shake his hand. But they had been humbled by prison somehow, only we couldn't see that yet.But, I'm getting ahead of myself, you know?We got there, turned the music down and stepped out of the car. It was dark and we didn't see the Dudes chilling in their jet-black Impala with the engine off. It got cold, things got tense quick. My nerves felt ready to snap.I was creeping slow, snaking my way up the path to the porch with my gun ready to go off any moment, my footsteps backed up by the nearly audible sound of nervous heartbeats. I stepped on the creaky porch and cocked my shotgun. Cha-Chk... It was the loudest thing I ever heard.Suddenly we saw headlights up the road, but not The Dudes' Impala. There we were holding guns looking like red-handed thugs, so I kicked open the door just in time to hear the back door slam shut. It hit me: we're being ambushed! I spun, trying to see but blinded by the headlights, dazed, shocked; I had guessed right – up pulled a van full of local gang-bangers. As the car whipped around, I was thinking, These Punks got connections!When you're looking down a barrel of cold metal, you think about a few things. How do I get away? Can I win? Am I going to die? This wasn't worth it! My mind in a fog, I didn't notice The Dudes get out of their Impala.Funny, we wanted to fix a corrupt world, but The Dudes had more than enough of broken lives and helplessly watching the ignorant lose everything. Their spirits had changed in prison, and my guess is they wanted to keep us from following in their footsteps. I still wonder...Anyhow, they were pissed, watching their enemy – Regret – about to walk off with our souls. For a moment we were innocent in their eyes, and so their goal shifted from just watching over the neighborhood to waging war against our potential mistakes, even dying for them if need be. In the panic and the muzzle flashes, I remember the silhouettes of the Peacemakers as they stepped in and cried: 'Run!'Leaning back in my chair, I said, “They took the bullets for us. Wish I'd known better. But you listen now, it ain't too late for y'all.You dig?” "My name is and my email address is (I understand that this is required but also, I know that it will not show up. Thanks for keeping my email info discreet!). I think this story is interesting enough to comment on, so I just wanted to say: That's all. Thanks for listening." - Me4 people had something to say about “Peacemakers”This story is intersting but make more good storiesRahil on June 2nd, 2013waooooooooooooooooo.its a good story.i really like this.talhajahan on June 4th, 2013this story is a bit confusing to me but very good suspense and thrill. A bit scary too.dhrumil das on November 25th, 2013I am doing a writing unit at uni and my last assessment was to write a 1000 word short story which I did but I found it difficult to keep to the 1000 word limit. I went on a search to see if it could be done. I loved this short story and thought it deserved to be shared.Toni on June 3rd, 2014January 2011October 2010December 2009August 2009 The Timekeeper (9)Thanksgiving (4)This Boy and His Bicycle (4)Peacemakers (4)Protected by Creative Commons license cc by-nc-nd - basically, this. In so many words, please respect the artists posted on this site and don't change or sell our work. But by all means, go ahead and share it with proper attribution (or just send people here ;D ). We worked hard on our art, so be cool and give credit where credit is due. If you have any questions or requests to reprint, please email inquiry -at- exactly1000words.com. Thanks. Shameless plug: this is a custom wordpress theme that John designed.
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