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| Korean Fever | |
| By dotcommie | ||||||||
| 23 October 2006 | ||||||||
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Whadddya think? This piece is actually an exercise in fictionalising news stories set by my course tutor. Ungraded as yet Bomb Dawn has not long broken on Pyongyang. In the markets, men curse, cajole and mutter prayers to Confucian or Buddhist gods, ensuring first that nobody is in earshot to hear their flouting of the governments atheist rules The newer farmer’s markets, more numerous than ever, are a testament to Korea’s Chinese-style experimentation with democracy. Wisps of mist are slowly dissipating from the Taedong River as early morning fishermen brave the swollen currents. Perhaps 1.5 million Koreans inhabit this city, including occasionally The Dear Leader himself, Kim Jong-il. As the elderly scientist winds his arduous way towards Kim’s residence, he notes many wealthy looking men surreptitiously checking their once again banned mobile phones. He looks up bitterly at the monstrous amalgamation of steel and glass that is the Ryugyong Hotel. It stands an empty, an unfinished shell. Last worked on in 1990, now a derelict testament to image over substance. Scorning tram and metro, the grey-haired physicist walks slowly towards the Dear Leaders house, his mind a jumble of pride, sorrow, fear and images of mushroom clouds. Pyongyang No. 15, the ultra secret residence of the short dictator, was every bit as plush as he’d expected. Gilt edged mahogany fought antique display cases to present a seeming battle ground of objet d’art. Carpets were uniformly a deep pile vermillion, walls all sheathed in oiled wood or else hidden by massive oil paintings. Taking little time to appreciate such finery, he hurriedly joined his young rocketry chief in Kim Jongs private office. “Dear Leader, it was everything we hoped for” The elderly scientist was annoyed at his yellow coat. He wished he’d warn something more fitting for the meeting. “Everything and more, Dear Leader” put in the younger scientist, a fairly nondescript young Korean with only an Elvis-style coif to distinguish him from the hordes of other white-coats Kim Jong saw every day “How so?” The scientists exchanged looks, the elder nodding at the younger to proceed “Dear Leader, the device was what we call dirty, exceptionally dirty. Apart from the power of the initial blast, there is a separate and devastating poison leaked that turns the lands outside blast range into lifeless deserts” as he paused for breath the small grey suited figure interrupted him “You have the recording?” Normally Kim Jong’s soft voice was unsettling to the elder scientist but he knew on this day, he was facing no risk. He reached into his white coat and produced the DVD. Hard faced guards took it from him. Within moments the state of the art equipment was running. The footage was grainy, colours muted, but it showed an obviously deserted rocky landscape. For a few minutes nothing happened. Then the picture on the screen jumped and bucked as if someone had sat the camera on the back of a bad tempered mule. Smoke issued from unseen cracks in the landscape. A grinding, steadily rising roar issued from Kim Jong’s Dolby speakers, on screen there was a brief white flash, then blackness. The two scientists locked gazes again, sharing looks of guilty glee. Kim Jong was momentarily struck dumb. Even the stony faced guards looked impressed. Kim stood, five foot three inches in stack heels, and walked to his window. In his minds eye were mushroom clouds sprouting, spreading their poison far and wide. For the dog in the Whitehouse, mushrooms cloud. For their bed-mates and allies in England, mushrooms cloud. For those arrogant shifty bastards in the Peoples Republic of China….well maybe he’d save those for slave labour. Great projects ahead, after all. But the Japanese had to go Smiling happily he said something in English. “Did you say something Dear Leader?” asked Korea’s rocket man “It was nothing” But the elder scientist understood English fluently. And Kim Jong was quoting Oppenhiemer. ”I am become death” he’d murmured “Destroyer of world’s”
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