An Ambiguous Tale

The Quiet Field By: Brendan Cadman

  The Hunter By: Brendan Cadman

Control By: Brendan Cadman Either stalling midflight and crashing into a ravine, or in charge of my surroundings and navigating the turbulence, taking the scenic route back home, avoiding the demons onboard that remain unseen. The path laid out before my feet and my compass's arrow points due north, the further I go the more I am confident in the direction I'm headed, until that fork in the road of temptation makes itself known, tripping over the unearthed roots of the mistakes to which I've become wedded. Euphoria and bliss shower over me like summer rain, but the distant rumble of thunder and blinding streaks in the sky, bring with it the cover of ominous black clouds, until the momentary and empty feelings of joy transform into pain. The last time and never again is the oath that I make, as the black clouds give way to golden rays bursting from the sun, but the chill in the air raises the hair on my neck, as a storm swells on the distant horizon until suddenly I'm b...

"The Feeling Of Nothing At All" By: Brendan Cadman  I can't escape this feeling, this feeling of nothing at all. And I'm falling in,  falling into the deep black abyss. And all I want, baby all I want is to feel you again. I drive down to the ocean side, up the pacific high going 95. Outstretched arm flying in the wind, past whipping cars, not raising a hair on my skin.   I step outside digging my toes in the sand, as the holes around my feet cave in. Wading into the dark blue, with the water up to my waist,  floating there patiently for you. But you're nowhere to be found, as I slowly start to drown.  I can't escape this feeling, this feeling of nothing at all. And I'm falling in,  falling into the deep black abyss. And all I want, baby all I want is to feel you again. Just as I lose my final breath, the liquid drains from around my lips. Slamming down the glass mug on the counter top, from the last stinging and inebriati...

"He" By: Brendan Cadman He wants to let down the walls, he's built around his heart, but the ever watchful sentinel at the top of his post, can not make out what awaits him outside, between the malevolent barbarians and weary travelers, looking for a place that they can call home. He wants to be the person he sees, when he looks outside dark office windows, in the deep trance of wishful daydreams.  In the dim light of cozy pubs, he drowns his inhibitions in a flowing river, of burning whiskey and coldhearted ale,  to make him feel like the person he,  thinks that the other drunken patrons want him to be. But in the blinding light of the early morning, he can't remember the person he had become.  He's been burnt by the fire, of past mistakes and miscalculations, because he's only human just like you man. He covers the scars of fresh wounds, on his arms with long black sleeves, as he looks for ways to mend them.    He yearns to s...

"The Bystander" By: Brendan Cadman A bystander stood patiently at the corner, staring at the orange light telling him to wait, as he eagerly anticipated making his next move. Emerald green lit up in his eyes as he started to walk, until a thunderous crash and a staggering explosion, sent him down to the unforgiving pavement below. Shaking the cobwebs and fog out of his mind, he woke to the distinctive smell of fire and smoke, gazing in horror at a scene of carnage and twisted metal.  People ran to the site in futile attempts to help, while he remained frozen in a pompeian state.  Hours after the grizzly setting had been cleared,  he drowned his memories of the day  underneath an effervescent stream of icy ale. As the setting sun gave way to the rising moon, a women with hair of gold and rose red lips, sat down across the crowded and buzzing bar. For one brief but telling moment his eyes met hers, his faced flushed red and his heart crawled in...

"Deadly Weapons" By: Brendan Cadman Laid as the bedrock of our foundation, inscribed on the certificate of our birth, through the black ink of feathered quills. Its power can tear through the strongest armor, equipped with scopes for accuracy from miles away, the targets locked in its sights have no way to escape. There are ones who use them for protection, to preserve everything they've worked for, shielding from the strays the ones they love.  But often they find their way into the hands of the wicked, the people who would use them for chaos and evil, to set the world on fire just to watch it burn. When treated and shown the respect they demand, they are harmless in the proper hands. Gifted with the ability to right what has been wronged, beseech the ruthless and tyrannical from their thrones, and inspire the change that affects and benefits us all. When used with ill intentions and contempt, they can oppress and silence more than hearts and minds....

"What Would I Say?" By: Brendan Cadman An aging man sat with his feet and his thoughts, buried in the warm summer sand.  He looked out far beyond the white caps, crashing down onto the soaked beach front.  As he watched the red sun slowly drown into the horizon, his past rose from the shallow watery grave in his heart.  Not all was trouble that crowded into in his mind, with the remaining light of the dwindling sun warming his face,  and illuminating his soul with remembrances of fond times. Though scatter clouds would pass overhead from time to time, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow of darker days.  It wasn't too long before a young child walked past, hand in hand with his father toward the water. When they reached the shore they began skipping rocks, splashing and rippling the calm evening sea.  The aging man couldn't help but notice the child, who wore a face that reminded him of his own long ago. He amusingly studied the tw...

"Wherever You Go, There You Are"  By: Brendan Cadman Every sleepless night he tossed and turned underneath, sheets of fire while resting on rocks masquerading as pillows. As a child his heart and body were never in the same place, longing to be anywhere other than where he was. In the precious few hours he managed to slip away from the world, he could only manage one consistent and tantalizing fantasy. On the back of a broken spirit, wore the scabbed scars of dreams deferred. Wounds healed and closed by the passing hours, reopened and bleeding from memories of distant times.  His heart ached for what had come, and broke over what had gone.  Haunting ghosts standing on empty corners, and sitting in abandoned barstools beside him. He could not escape the reminders of what he lost, so all he knew to do was run. When the pad lock broke and the binding chains were set free, he made a daring break and finally attempted to getaway. ...

"Where A Heart Should Be" By: Brendan Cadman Even after the frigid air had blown, and the icy waters finally began to thaw, the warmth of spring reborn eluded him, with his skin still cold to the touch.  He walked in silence amongst the living reminders of what he lost, as a ship lost at sea wanders on the water, with no lighthouse to guide it home through the fog. Even old shipmates could not recognize the remains of the battered and weathered hull.  Like a child desperately searches the bottom of a cereal box for a prize waiting within, the burning alcohol raced down his throat,  leaving only the remains of an empty and hollow promise.  In the unrelenting spotlight of the sun, he wore a smile that conveyed a picture of serenity.  It wasn't until the cover of the moonlit shadows, that he would allow his true essence to breakthrough the barrier surrounding his mind.  Old joys slowly disintegrated into unfamiliar disinterests, with the p...

"The Runner" By: Brendan Cadman Chained and tethered to the post, of his temptations and desires. Pulling on the shackles holding him down, with a relentless effort to break free, and loosen the grip of his tormentor's hold. Mind full of resolve with feet firmly planted, he grabbed hold onto the fetters of iron, determined to finally take back control.  So he ran. Off quicker than a bolt of lighting, with the power of a runaway train. He sprinted with everything he could give, to tear that cuff right out of its socket. At first effort the chain would not budge, sending him face first to the ground in failure.  But after a millennia stuck in one place, he rose defiantly to his feet and brushed of the dirt, unwavering in his mission.  So he ran. The splintering shatter of the wooden post, followed by cracking of the unhinged chain.  Set free from his past and born anew, suddenly the world around him he had called home, his entire life had...

The Campaign By: Brendan Cadman 1 As the dying embers of the setting sun sneak their way through the grey clouds of the early evening in the heart of November, a sea of people cascade back and forth throughout the busy city streets of Chicago. It's just the start of the rush hour in the city and the people are methodically fighting the swelling crowds on the shrinking sidewalks. The air is thick amongst the patrons of the overloaded and overworked metropolis and the tension rises within the flock with every passing minute. Desperation begins to set in, as the natives battle to make their way into confined city apartments and cramped metra train cars barreling towards the open arms of the suburbs.  On the corner of a busy intersection, an old man with a bushy grey beard and wearing a long black trench coat stands on top of a rickety wooden crate. Though the flimsy wooden boards beneath his feet splinter under his weight, the crate remains in tact as the old man ma...