Word: Schlep

schlep

or schlepp, shlep, shlepp

[ shlep ]

Slang.

verb (used with object), schlepped, schlep·ping.

1) to carry; lug: to schlep an umbrella on a sunny day.

verb (used without object), schlepped, schlep·ping.

2) to move slowly, awkwardly, or tediously: We schlepped from store to store all day.

noun

3) Also schlep·per. someone or something that is tedious, slow, or awkward; drag.

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               Kevin’s legs felt like they were filled with lead.  He could barely lift them, so his shoes scraped along the rocky dirt path.  Sweat soaked every bit of fabric he wore and dripped down his face like a waterfall.  He had difficulty keeping his eyes open thanks to the sting of the salty liquid.  His water supply was nearly up, thanks to him foolishly squandering it early in the trek.  Now he was paying for it.

               “Hey, come on, keep up!”

               And then there was that.  His annoyingly perky, chipper girlfriend, Nicole.  She was barely sweating and looked only slightly winded. 

               “You know…” Kevin gasped.  His voice was weak, thin, and each word was followed by a deep breath of air in a weak attempt to fill his aching lungs.  “If you really wanted me to keep pace, you could carry some of this stuff.”

               “Hey, don’t blame me.  You wanted to be the big, strong man and carry the big pack.” She said with a smug look on her face.

               “Not with everything loaded onto it.” Kevin countered.  “I thought you would at least take a sleeping bag or something.”

               She stopped on the path and waited for him to catch up.  He flopped onto the hard ground the moment he was able to.  He did not even care that a rock was sticking into the back of his leg.  He was just glad to be rid of the weight of the overstuffed hiker’s backpack he had regrettably chosen to carry. 

               “Oh, it can’t be that bad, you big baby.” Nicole said.

               “It weighs almost as much as I do.”

               It was not as much of an exaggeration as he would have liked.  With the tent, two sleeping bags, and enough supplies for a three-day camping trip, it had to weigh at least a hundred pounds.  At least, it felt like it did.

               “It does not.  It can’t be more than fifty or sixty pounds.”

               “You try carrying that much uphill for a few miles in the hot sun and see how well you do.”

               “Okay, fine, I will.  Then we’ll see.”

               It was with an air of immense satisfaction that Kevin shrugged the heavy-duty straps off his shoulders, allowing his sweat soaked back to receive a cooling breeze.  Nichole squatted down, slipped the straps around her and stood.  Then she immediately fell over.

               “Dear lord, what is in his thing?” She cried after she managed to right herself and slip the pack off.

               “Everything you said we’d need.”

               “No way.  That can’t be that heavy.” 

               She opened the pack and began taking inventory of what was inside.  She did a few quick mental calculations and she looked at his with apologetic embarrassment.

               “Okay, maybe I underestimated how much all that would weigh.” She said.

               “Uh huh, go on.”

               “And maybe I shouldn’t have loaded it all onto on pack.”

               “And?”

               Nicole let out a long, dramatic sigh.  “And maybe I can take a few things for the rest of the trip.”

               “After I catch my breath?”

               “Yes.  After you catch your breath.”

               With a weak smile, Kevin went from sitting to laying down.  He would deal with the rocks poking various places later.  For now, he was just glad to know that his load would be a little bit lighter.

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I don't go on hikes very often.  Not really my idea of a good time.  But hey, if you like that sort of thing, more power to you.

Word: Greenth

greenth

[ greenth ]

noun

green growth; verdure.

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              The man used to have a name.  He could almost remember it if he really tried.  He also used to have words.  He could remember those easier, but since he had not used them in so long, it became harder each day he was still alive.  He still had the names for everything else though.  He needed those to know what the things around him were.

               For instance, he knew he was in a city.  That was a place where lots of people like him used to live.  He once lived in a city, when he was boy.  When he still had a name and words.  The city he was in was not the one he used to live in though.  The city he was in was smaller than that one.  He used to remember the name of where he used to live, but he did not know this city’s name.

               What he did know was that nature had taken over many years ago.  Trees grew thick, strong and green, with roots that had broken through the concrete and cement that they grew out of.  Tall blades of grass grew out of asphalt.  Thick vines clung to the sides of buildings, spreading cracks throughout the various materials. 

               The man kept an eye out.  It was not just the plants that had taken over the city.  There were animals there as well.  Most of them avoided the man.  They were just small things like rabbits and squirrels and birds.  But then there were the predators.  Wolves and bears and coyotes ran rampant in places like these.  He clutched his weapon, ready to react at any moment.

               His spear was made of good, thick wood with a head of metal that he had meticulously pounded and shaved into as sharp a point as he could make.  It had saved his life many times, and it would continue to do so until the shaft broke.  Hopefully he would be able to reuse the spearhead once that happened.

               The man heard something.  The grass rustled.  Something disturbed a shrub growing by a tree.  The man leveled his spear.  His forced his breathing to remain calm, and his arms steady.  Whatever animal slowly emerged from the greenery and the man froze.  He lost control of his breathing and his eyes went wide.

               It was something he had not seen in years.  Something he had thought he would never see again.  It was a woman.  A real, human woman.  He remembered women.  He had been too young to really appreciate them when there were still many of them, but now?  Now he was grown.  And he could now appreciate the sight of a woman.  She was as wild as he was, wearing the bare minimum of tattered cloth scavenged from the rooms in the city.  She was covered in almost as much hair as he was, but he could still tell she was beautiful.

               She carried a crude bow and arrow, that was leveled at him.  She blinked and her head tilted from side to side.  Both man and woman lowered their weapon.  The man stepped forward, struggling to remember his words.  It had been so long since he had needed them.  He held out his hand.  She did the same.

               When they touched, his hand was larger and stronger than her, but he could tell hers were finer and more dexterous.  They simply stood like that for almost a minute before he found his words.  And it was the one word he thought he would never need again, his own name.

               “Adam.” He said slowly.  His voice surprised him.  It was thin from disuse, but it did what he wanted to do.

               “Evelyn.” She said.  Her voice was just as weak as his.  Her mouth twitched and she continued.  “Eve.”

               And with that, the man and woman found their words, and so much more. 

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The end of human kind, or the beginning of its rebirth?  One of those for sure, I'm just not sure which.    

Word: Stownlins

stownlins

[ stoun-linz ]

adverb Scot.

secretly; stealthily.

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               The figure slipped through the trees, unseen and unheard.  His shoes, specially made for just this purpose, made nearly no sound as they hit the ground.  His clothes were made so that no sound of fabric could be heard, while also minimizing his visual profile.  Unless someone was specifically looking for him, they would miss him completely.

               He paused just inside the tree line.  The facility lay sprawled before him.  The place was flooded with bright lights, surrounded by a tall fence, and crawling with guards.  The silent man checked his equipment.  Around his waist was a tightly cinched belt lined with small compartments, holding everything he needed.  He held several small, liquid filled, needle tipped pods.  Small needles rested in other compartments, and others held various pieces of electronics.

               On his wrist was an air launcher that was designed for the chemical laced needles in his belt.  Sure, a gun would be more directly lethal, but it was also much louder.  Plus, he was going for stealth, not destruction. 

               Satisfied with everything he had, he got to work.  He nearly glided down towards the fence.  It was tipped with razor wire, so no going over it.  Besides that was a sure fire way to be seen.  He pulled out a compact pair of wire cutters and made quick work of the fence.  He dashed forward, keeping a careful eye out for guards.  His dark clothes were next to useless in the lights the facility was casting off, so he would be finished the first time he was spotted.

               But luck was on his side and he avoided them all.  He hugged the wall and sidled forward.  He spotted a small service door used by the security team.  It was, of course, guarded.  And they were not a pair of cheap rent-a-cops.  These were trained professionals.  They were vigilant, and their eyes constantly scanned the area around them.  Their weapons were within easy reach, and the infiltrator had no doubt that they knew how to use them.

               The dark clothed man leveled his wrist launcher and fired.  Two puffs of air sounded, audible only to him.  Each struck its target.  The guards soon succumbed to the powerful tranquilizers and slumped against the wall.  This made entry easy.  But he was no fool.  He quietly eased the door open, just a crack.  He saw another pair of guards inside the door. 

               The man pulled out two of the bulbs, holding them lightly.  He knocked quickly on the door.  A guard eased the door open and poked his head out.  Before he could fully process what he was seeing, the bulb’s needle was stuck into his neck.  It was a matter of seconds before he was unconscious.  The infiltrator was crouched and ready for the inevitable.  The second hallway guard reacted and emerged from the door.  He soon joined his colleagues in a drug induced slumber. 

               The dark clothed man knew he now had a limited time to accomplish his mission.  But, he could at least delay the inevitable.  He did his best to prop each of the four slumbering guards into a crude standing position.  It would not hold up to even mild scrutiny, but it was better than nothing.  All that mattered was that he was inside the facility. 

               The easy part was over.  Now came the real challenge.    

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Probably not my best work, is it?  Meh, oh well.  I hope it's at least kind of entertaining for a little while.  That's all I can hope for, really.