First story post

Writing has always been at the back of my mind for a way to get some of the thoughts out of my head before they eat my brain like a pig at an hawaiian feast. Of the various attempts at making words work, most of which found their way quickly to my trash can, I figured I'd post a more recient one that I am liking so far. Here is the beginning of it, the rest is on the link below. The story isn't done yet, still a work in progress...i'll post the rest when finished (if ever). Enjoy. Or hate.


FATE
from Latin fatum, literally, "what has been spoken"

by aaron robb

One often wonders how events somehow come together in such a fashion that they seem to be predestined. Hands of the so called "fates" drive our lives, sometimes erratically and sometimes they seem to group together certain people who have nothing in common but destiny. This certain grouping of fates starts with our journey with Matthew.

Matthew Jackson was a calm man. Friends recent and past will tell you that they had never seen him angered or overly worried. Some in college figured he was stoned most of the time due to his placid nature, but those who knew him really well knew that it was just his personality. This came in handy when he decided to become an arson inspector for an insurance company. Seeing burnt out buildings every day would be depressing enough, but to make things worse they sometimes come with a dead body. It just happens that the latest assignment was just that. An old factory in a small town had been burnt down in what looked like an accident, but it got bad when the body of a homeless man was found inside. The police said it was an electrical fire, but when Matthew and the local fire marshal looked it over, they ruled it arson. And this meant Matthew had to watch the medical examiner expect the body found to get any evidence to send back to his company.
Now on his way home, the 4 hour drive in the dark was not looking very pleasing. He just got off the phone with his wife, who now was in bed, and was missing his own soft pillow. His mind mulled over the case from earlier today, thinking what forms he needed to fill out in the morning and making mental notes of what he had to do. He was almost in a daze when his headlights caught the figure of a man on the side of the road. He barely had time to snap out of his daze and swerve his car back into his lane before he just missed clipping the hitchhiker. It took a few seconds of shock before his heart beat normal again. Then a few extra seconds until his humanity kicked in and he realized that the poor man back there was standing in the rain on a highway where he may be the last car for hours. He slowed his car down and pulled over. Throwing it into reverse he slowly backed along the shoulder until he glimpsed the figure in the distance. By now the hitchhiker had seen him reversing and started to walk his way. A handful of seconds later Matthew rolled down the passenger side window and looked and looked into the tired wet face, noticing that fate wore an army green coat and pants.


Lucas started his day like any other: woke up from a bad dream, looked around and realized that it wasn't a dream; he really was sleeping in an abandoned house on a bare mattress that was made 60 years ago. He had found the house a few days back after hitching a ride on the back of a farm truck out into the country. He had to get away from the city for a while; there were a few groups of people who were now looking for him, including the police due to a report or two of Lucas breaking and entering. He had never done anything to hurt anyone, but being homeless with no money he had to do a few things to keep himself alive, and that meant finding food however he could. Needless to say, he had decided it was best to lay low for a while and headed right out of town.


THE REST HERE