Nov
Exiled Express
By C. S. Exxe
Station managers saw the same faces dock their post with the exception of the cargo, varied as they are, exiles deemed unfit for their region due to violent crimes or work related issues, ranging to was as “run of the mill” behaviors back sixty years ago; in ninety five, when extortion and rape were “run of the mill” behaviors, so things never really do change.
Could have gotten real bad had we not made those serious changes in the sixties regarding the global priority, somehow numbers of exiles dwindled fast detoured, due word of extreme working conditions among the Arctic regions, combined with the reinforcement of a comparatively symbiotic existence on a beautiful ordering earth where, “Well we never cease to wonder at the adapting landscapes” drapes station walls.
Fast blurry images were a prized story, descriptions of regions beyond were a talk among the young, though the cultivate common good thinking had solved alternating the fossil fuel emission crisis with the alternative miracle energy that fueled the great “Exile Express” the Twin global route to Antarctica across the South American Arctic Bridge.
A human whom killed relentlessly in a far away land is the poster child for remorse, having one long ride of the world to say goodbye to living within the circumference of the collective species, “Cool Hand Luke” was incessant in aggressive disruptive behaviors. The Exile Express was the earth’s greatest ride that ended terribly, The portrait of a human walking away from the furthest station past the sentries wall.
The stations, on the plaque have a golden quote; “In No Remorse Do We Live In Service”.
The pride in of the last controlled power struggles, the captive and their warden, in a sense , the captive can change his ways at the next relocation, a region that needs its citizen; Be fully responsible, lose the attitude, dig in, lift your fair share, stop the process.
Where Citizens complain to Office of Train Stations, where you see, the perfect citizens was word, those ratings could fall dramatically. The Arm of the Office doing dubious were sent to chill, in the furthest station from the center, the stories of the people traded in private, “did you see the horror, they took the woman away from her child”. They must go back to their work space and continue in the drama of living with a social contract to the economy of their region, or to the Exile express as her cargo.
Tiffany V
I integrate Transformative Language Arts into any work I do, and I work with people all over the world, but I can't tell you who they are, due to NDAs! I was once told, “you exude art.” So, I decided to spend the rest of my life helping other like-minded individuals get to do the same. Let’s do something magical together!
What did I just read? One run-on sentence paragraph after another without making any sense in my opinion. After reading this twice I feel like I got thrown around in a centrifuge until all my ability to reason was sucked out of my lower orrifice. To be honest, I would rate this as the worst entry in all the writing contests I have been part of without a close contender.
I would welcome others pointing out the errors of my review, but I can’t imagine what form they might take other than false politeness.
In honest politeness, I can say I have read other stories on this sight that threw me more than this one. Some of them, by my own pen. Once you push the button, the concrete is already hard. That said, reading this , and assuming the errors are in fact errors, there is a fantastic story here. Exile Express, a dystonian cause and effect ridden on the back of society. Hints of Fahrenheit 451 without the characters; it’s all good. Hard to read? Yes. Harder to understand, not really, in my opinion.
what stang said
What I see here is someone with a lot of passion experimenting with language, punctuation, rules, etc. THIS is the place to do that. A writing professor at UCSD once told me don’t worry about breaking the rules, because James Joyce already broke all of them for you. For all we know this author is tuning the piano. I NEVER want to discourage a writer. He or she may appear chaotic to a reader, but writing is a way to make sense out of chaos…I consider this a work in progress.
This disjointed, odd, chaotic, piece intrigues me. There is something here, and it reminds me of a couple of authors…a couple of books I have read, and “mistakes”, confusion, dead-ends, and roadblocks with spaghetti all over the walls for good measure, were all part of the delight & frustration ….and I read on, challenged and intrigued I read on.
“A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.” James Joyce, Ulysses
“The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.” James Joyce, Ulysses
“The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.” – Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451