Nine Stories
8 posts
2009-02-13 · 3 min read
[Nine Stories] Private Writing Project Group · Google Collaborative Platform
[Nine Stories, Season Six] Prologue
Witch Doctor
It was obvious that no one had entered this room for a very long time. The room was small, containing only a bed one and a half meters wide and a cheap computer desk worth maybe fifty yuan, with just enough space between them for a sixty-kilo person to turn around. A thick layer of dust lay over the desk, marked by the tracks of dung beetles. The computer itself was gone, leaving only the square blank imprint where a CRT monitor had sat for years. Above the bed there was a round window half a meter across. At first glance it seemed to have been sealed over with black paper, but when I shone a flashlight on it I saw that it was actually a layer of black furry vine.
2009-02-13 · 3 min read
Nine Stories private writing project group · Google collaboration platform
Nine Stories, Season Six: Prologue
The Witch Doctor
The room had plainly been left untouched for a very long time. It was tiny, containing only a bed one and a half meters wide and a cheap computer desk of the sort one could buy for fifty yuan. The gap between them was so narrow that only a person weighing sixty kilos could turn around in it. A thick layer of dust lay over the desk, marked by the tracks of beetles that had crawled across it. The computer itself was gone, leaving only the pale square where a CRT monitor had once sat for years. Above the bed was a round window half a meter across. At first glance it seemed to have been sealed over with black paper. Only when I shone my flashlight on it did I see that it was actually covered by a layer of black, furry vine.
2008-12-07 · 8 min read
Kidu, a city where once you arrive, you can never get away from the local-news pages.
If you happened to be standing in Beckoning-Stop Square at this moment, you would find social-news reporters from every major Kidu media outlet guarding every possible angle. Normally these people might be interviewing Dong Xiaohua of the Taobote household, who has climbed a tree and cannot come down, or filming the splatter on the wall at the scene of a husband-and-wife brawl, or recording a driver trapped in his cab after a traffic accident, or, failing that, disguising themselves as clients to investigate some girl selling her first time for money to pay medical bills. In short, in this city without superheroes, they are forever playing superheroes. Yet at this very moment they had all abandoned their usual strengths and converged on Beckoning-Stop Square to cover hard news instead, for one reason alone:
2008-11-25 · 3 min read
Land Fought Over on Four Sides
He undid the last button at the front of her blouse, and the white shirt slid from her fragrant shoulders onto the bed. A low moan rose from deep in her throat, and she let herself fall back onto the mattress.
Seven feet away, on the large worktable, the servers gave off a low steady hum. The monitor had not been turned off. The screensaver alternated between exquisite wallpapers from School Mate, while in the corner great stacks of Big Comics Superior were piled high.
2008-06-24 · 4 min read
Dear Alicia,
How are you? And how is our little Monica? Or perhaps little Ruben, of course. It cannot have turned to autumn in Sucre yet. Here, the waters of the Tagus have only just thawed. Lydia has been very well-behaved, and excellent at school too. She can even help me with simple work such as sorting reagents now. Do not worry. There is nothing dangerous in it.
I know you grow angry the moment I bring this up. Are you still angry with me over that? But look, Lydia has always been healthy. She is already eight years old, and not a single sign has shown itself. I promised you that “the thing” would do no harm, but you never trust what I say.
2008-05-07 · 7 min read
Zuolun came out of a cafe on the left bank of the Thames and walked through the thick London drizzle toward the hotel where he was staying. He wore a leather jacket unsuited to the season, its surface shining heavily under the rain-soaked streetlamps. In his left hand he carried a large dark green suitcase that looked very heavy and from time to time struck the ground with a dull thud.
2008-01-08 · 10 min read
Nine Stories, Season Two | Shahtoosh
Welcome to *Nine Stories*, Season Two. This is a private writing project. As before, I will personally invite Fanfou friends to take part. Requirements: a short story of 1000 to 1500 words, containing the sentence "So we went to get the blankets." Genre unrestricted. Please submit within two days after the New Year holiday ends, publish it on your blog, and announce it through Fanfou. Together we are creating a mysterious plan.
We had already been trapped in the frozen wasteland for three days. Other than half a sheep’s leg and a barrel of gasoline, there was nothing left.
2008-01-07 · 6 min read
Welcome to Nine Stories, Season Two. This is a private writing project. As before, I will personally invite Fanfou friends to take part. Requirements: a short story of 1,000 to 1,500 words, containing the sentence “So we went to get the blankets” (from Assassin Mission). No restrictions on genre. Please submit within two days after the New Year holiday ends, publish it on your blog, and announce it through Fanfou. Together we are creating a mysterious plan.