Chose Your Choice

Yes, i'm still alive, kind of, more posts should be on the way soon so watch out for that.

Here's just a little snippet that I wrote, read it in all its strange choicy glory.


The man in front of me grins a salamander grin, the skin of his neck creating folds under a stubbly chin, as if the smile was weighing down his entire face. It was not a good smile. He pushes forward two boxes the size of matchboxes. 

In front of his left hand is a box of unadorned mahogany, just a dark box and nothing more. But it's simple design reeked of the quality of kings, it's seams sure and sealed, it's corners crisp and clean. It sits confident as a cat in its own worth and powers. Open me if you care, if you dare, it seems to say.

The box pushed forward by his left hand was of white opaque Quartz. It glittered with shifting dreams of forgotten promises and joyful days spend on joyful things. It's lid seems fit to pop open and spill it's enthusiasm to any who would listen, simply waiting for someone to peek at the hope and mystery inside.

Salamander says in a low sticky voice, "chose your own fate young thief. The choice is yours which box you chose, perhaps one is your poison and the other a blessing, perhaps they are both punishments for your crimes, the choice is yours" 

Your slide the smooth wood closer to you, its glossy sheen slides easily across the table. Its surface is warm to the touch, just hot enough to make you notice it but not hot enough to burn. You try to open what appears to be the lid, it won't budge. Instead a hidden drawer slides soundlessly out of the back. In it is a glittering crimson jewel. It's cold hard face grinning at you from its dark abode. The smooth jewel reflects your own shocked face.You look around, salamander is gone, the treasure is yours, you are free to go. Surely you made the right choice. The jewel winks at you with its bloody red face.

The box practically purrs as it slides into your hand. It's glittering quartz smiling at you, blinding you with its beaming bright grin. Your fingers graze the lock, it is cold, chills run down your hand and your spine. As soon as your hand touches it the lock leaps open, it sits contently, waiting expectantly for you to look inside. You peer in and see a black stone, a small black stone and that is all. You hold it in your hand, it is suddenly cold, so cold. The cold spreads down your fingers and up your arm, blistering your skin. You howl in pain as the cold burns you and the rock won't go, won't go. Then the rock drops from your hand and you flinch away from it as it clatters to the floor. The burning is gone, only the memory of the searing chill ghosts over your arm. You look around, salamander is gone, the box is gone, the rock is gone. You are free to go

Tut tut, naughty naughty little thief. Which do you chose?

Let me know in the comments what your choice was and how you feel about your fate. the choice is yours. >:)