Literary Competition

song : Keane - Everybody's Changing
this reminds me in some peculiar way to the doors, man am i getting into this anthemic british rock....it's agsint my rules....damn!


Being the weirdoes we are, we just couldn't live like normal Iraqi college people could, no sir.
That's why we arranged for some sort of literary competition
it was open for all, although only 4 were in and only 3 actually did anything

The rules were to write out a short story that had three of the following :

1. The story must be set in our college, all characters must be real, but could hide under pseudonyms.
2. The story must have science-fiction elements
3. The story must be erotic in nature, even before it being sci-fi.

Of course, the rules were laid out by me....I started to write and my friend wrote as well, the other friend of ours was already a published writer (u can check out his story at xxnl.stories.com, hee hee, look for Lusty Caesar)
I found my story collecting dustbits yesterday in some forgotten folder, i'm gonna show you bits of it, just cuz i don't have the time to think about another solid post right now.

Tell me what you think....personally i think it's both overly technical for a sex story and well...okay at best....but still has some good stuff every now & then...


However, the dust grain doesn't have sufficient space to store a functional brain. The Ellyian are creatures of the soul, and has had little dabble in science whatsoever; their greatest achievements were obtained by a rigorous, instinct-driven understanding of the spirit and its incantations. They had no methods by which to compress data or anything so bright, the magnificent mind of an Ellyian had to be frozen into just another magnesium atom ; only the pre-chained DNA instructions required to shapeshift back into a full-bloomed mama's boy Ellyian and the conscious nerves required to initiate them were embedded. He also decided to cut off all sensory input except for sight, the distractions of smell, touch, and taste were as heavy burdens as an annoyingly attentive mind. He only needed to observe, camera-dumb; the analysis will have to wait until reemergence. Also, Shifting from a true Ellyian form into a small negligible particle required the dissipation of obscene amounts of energy ; luckily, he was resourceful enough to survey the land and didn't need a translation for the clear state of panic and turmoil the place was having, already two explosions had occurred on his arrival, one by an exploding car and another was by a self-exploding human (he reminded himself to ask if humans can explode willingly when u get back) He steered the horrendous energy stack in air for a while before laying the most of it alongside the bottom of a nearby river, and distributing the rest evenly between two cars that had exploding-devices that came by handily and just for kicks, he landed a final power surge on an unsuspecting flock of birds flying sheepishly nearby, completely fucking up their spine and frying the bastards about a thousand times simultaneously.

-----This is a different part, it does not immediately follow the above : ------------

It was the first week of observations after the Projector stance, Haamos'al had acquired almost all the profiles of the 22 continuously appearing humans along, the most articulate ones were those of much older humans who appeared less frequently but more frequently were in contact with him, he harnessed the human soul and whistled as silently as a projector can. Untapped potential, it's a shame they don't know how to work any of it yet, only in contact via dreams. The profiles of the older humans he didn't need, they were all sexually more or less satisfied, and he didn't find any references to sexual favoritism inside this social unit, which was what he wanted, he disregarded them completely. The younger profiles held varying degrees of success ; most held doubt, carrying the usual psychological features he was forced to understand so thoroughly in the seminars at (X), they held mild degrees of neurosis, phobias, extrovert/introvert balances, a minority had a tendency toward anti-social behavior ; a certain human had extremely anti-social symptoms that might develop into psychopathic behavior, another hid a reservoir of boiling anger that he carefully nested under a steely gaze and a continuously wearing smile. Qaarm’ale could’ve explored the limits to which they can hold the humans at fists with each other, but such attempt would require an in-depth study of the human motives and desires. Sexual appetite was universal, and an animal instinct that was easy to guide and hard to resist. The sexual impulses were virtually universal in all the humans, but most were indefinite, prematurely sketched, and inadequate. He still struck gold; about 7 individuals had strong sexual theories still untested, and a third of the total social unit had intertwined sexual feelings inside the social unit itself, this was more than enough. He still hasn't decided as to whom to give the gift, but he has a few candidates up to the point. He was growing a trifle tired, sometimes the humans bothered him to bits, and he was getting inappropriately horny as a bonus, he found her sitting on him one fine Tuesday.

She took him completely by surprise, and he was admittedly lonely and out of touch with the females for a long time now, she had only touched him fleetingly about two days ago, but now her beautiful piece of ass was completely touching his side, oh man, he congratulated himself on being so methodical to imprint the projector stability or he would've flickered down right then and there.
Her ass was the wide, peachy kind. He expected it to be pale in color, but fleshy and with substance. Pristine, rolling hills that awaited thirsty conquest. She held contact, poor soul. He tried to divert his attention from her bottom and go to her up, read her brain. She was a shy, unsure type, very hesitant and with indefinite, almost childish sexual education. He felt depressed and his heart broke down. He re-focused on her ass...so casually placed around his left side, talking to another human...the one with the monotonous speech pattern and morally-plagued sexual liaisons. He wanted to touch it in between so badly that he almost turned on by mistake.
Luckily she got up and went.
Just before her back rose so sweetly he reached for the brain to find a name, he found it. Salma will do fine, although it felt funny and characterless as all Human names do.


(4)

"What's cracking?" asked Jasim, between bites from a 600-dinar hamburger.
"Man, Fuck The World!" Abdilkahar barked, riding one of his enthusiastic surges, he was wearing a defiant heavy metal T-shirt that screamed western values and classic nondescript jeans. His hair, neck-level long straightened by a Glatt session he undertook a few days ago, was slicked back with a healthy dose of hair foam. He was thin in stature; but his gait still held you in an unlikely charm of its own. Dissident, he maintained an attitude of intended bursts of wackiness that was meant to obscure an intellectual sadness that sometimes overwhelmed him into total fucking silence.
"Soak up the sun, my dear friend..." Jasim grounded, whipping out his Nokia whilst adjusting himself in a more comfortable position.
"Ho-hum...don't fiddle around with bluetooth again, hon"
"I fiddle with a lot of things, excuse me" Jasim retorted. He was wide in birth, his hair was short and curly, similar in texture to Abdilkahaar’s without his fancy hair products, his face was childish to a degree, his hazel eyes leaked a kindness of heart that sometimes faltered behind his ego, he hated to be outsmarted.
"Awww....shut up" Zachary announced, to nobody in particular.
Muslim laughed heartily, at everybody in general.

The four were sitting around one of the tables before the smaller cafeteria, if you can call it that. Business was flowing these days for poor man Abid, the owner of the small 'cafeteria' shack; the main cafeteria's doors were closed as it was being auctioned. The place swarmed with hungry creatures; the hot sun opened their appetite and there was already a haphazard queue forming at the new barbecue stand. It was 1:30 PM, the lectures were finished for the day. Boredom overflowed the table.

"Let's discuss profound things..." Abdilkahar began
"Like the number of hairs in my ass" Jasim immediately replied, not lifting his eyes out of whatever he was doing with his Nokia ; people did everything with their mobiles except calling.
"I can beat you at that anytime" Abdilkahar looked at him smirkly. Jasim smiled involuntarily, he had an obsession with bodily humor.
Silence overtook the conversation, Zachary was mumbling incongruities, mostly bits and pieces of Shi'ite latmias, everyone sitting in the table was Sunni, except for Muslim.
“Here’s looking at you, balla3” Jasim heard Abdilkahar say, he looked at him instantly, but found him staring downward at his temple.
“Time?”
“11, and going, counterclockwise”
Jasim half-cocked his head, pretending to do a survey of the land, finding the treasure; he held gaze for a bit before coming back, all smiles.
“she looks borno to me if you know what I mean” Abdilkahar said, he was studying his friend intently
Muslim and Zachary were involved in a mobile pool game, not bothering to notice the usual everyday stage theater.
“Yeah well, it’s about time we rose to the occasion” Jasim replied.
“I have her number” Abdilkahar said, after a period of silence
Zachary stared out, this was new “Kahar, you will only ba3ar it...”
“Shut the fuck up, dog. I only ba3ar because my hands are empty, but now I’ve got a real hunt. Jasmiya, gimme your phone please, and Muslim, close your ears”
Muslim did a face, before rising up to meet Madhloom and Sadeem.
“Wilkum Ha” this was Madhloom, his voice barely audible as usual
“Istaghfurllah” Sadeem immediately said upon seeing Kahar, who grinned friendlily back.
“Shako Shbeekum?” Madhloom was inquiring
“That kamush here says he’s got Sabreen’s digits” Zachary said, matter-of-factly to him but to everyone else it was provided with his strangely rhythmic whine, rendering the sentence like a six-year-old claim of another boy’s mischievousness. Everyone liked to hear him talk and sometimes he would unleash a furry of complicated neo-political theories in that whiny sinusoidal voice that never failed to amuse you.
Both Sadeem and Madhloom looked at Abdilkahar, both amazed for their own reasons. Mahdloom was the sort of small boy in the pack, who always crawled under the legs and he was generally excited about everything that involved girls. Sadeem was half-amsued, expecting a prank to appear every now and then, and eagerly expecting the ba3ar to happen, Kahaar was one of his bestfriends, but he was also an uncontrollable loon at times.
“Look dog, at the real man in action” Abdilkahar boldly proclaimed. With a snatch, he produced Jasim’s mobile out of the hazel-eyed’s hands before he could have a chance to protest, his ego being scratched by that outsmarting action.
The place was suddenly alive with anticipation, the boys huddled in unison at the Nokia N-Gage QD, Abdilkahaar was hurriedly dialing “How?” asked somebody “Hamad Hamid gave it to me the other day”...it was a sunny day, and the mobile couldn’t refuse.