Anarchy Stories

You're asking about Thumper's court case? He's a gladiator: battle scars, tats, muscles. Obviously, he’s a winner. You don’t find losers by the Olympic-sized estate pool with zinc oxide sunscreen slathered on a flattened nose. His white-belted red swim trunks yesterday reminded me of the ones he wears in the ring. He has a boxer's stance when he's on his feet. The announcers call him Thumper by the way he beats men to the...

For the past decade now, it seems my life has come to a stand-still; day after day I perform the same routine while fearing my turn for mortality to strike. However, as of late, as the monotony molds my recent acts of madness, I am more looking forward to my eventual death rather than fearing it. To define an "act of madness" - ordering a tall as opposed to a venti; lacing my right shoe first instead of my left; displayin...

Our crime was anarchy. Ignoring laws, building fires, blocking streets, shouting, “NO! NO! in the market place. We climbed their walls, threw stones at their houses, sat at their gates and would not budge our hearts and minds. Again and again their soldiers came to drag us by our hair to dungeons, but could not keep us there. We were their sons and daughters, but had no homes. We could not pledge allegiance to their flag,...