War Of Art Novels & Stories

What would you think if I did the same with another man? Zachary's face contorted in anger. "Lindsey Ford, could you not be so disgusting with your words? "Bianca did it to celebrate her body as a form of art. It was about confidence and breaking free from the chains. She wore that to explore her own body. You wouldn't understand it." He looked at me with disgust before continuing, "I was contributing to art. If you think it's disgusting, it's because you know nothing about its beauty. Not only that, you're just jealous and can't take it when someone else's outstanding."

There is no stopping that war. ******************************************

War started now. ***

This wasn't over. This was war.

He took a breathe and lowered his voice again, "When this all started... I thought we were doing the right thing, my father made me believe that it was for the best, but so many lives have been lost since we took our rebellion to the field. I can not help but wonder if this is right Boro... I can not help but think that WE are the villians causing all this death. Remember Ruthford? I can not have that happen again Boro, I just can not..." "Lite... That's not fair Ruthford was not your fault, things got out of control quickly but we handled it remember that? This IS right, that boy was made to fight in this war by a power mad king. A king who would put a blade in the hands of a child and forc

- I was curious to know more. - I trust only a limited number of people. You saw that, Darling. Willian tried to use you against me. In the world I live in, things aren't as simple as in this picture. People want to win and they're not afraid to destroy whatever stands between them and victory. I feel like I'm at war with everyone all the time. There is simplicity or colors. There is no peace. - He gestured to the artwork and sighed.

The slow expansion of consequences, fractures, and choices that would define this post-war era had only just begun. And Aria, for the first time in her life, understood that the real war was not fought in open battlefields. It was fought in the subtle spaces between people, in the choices they made when no one was commanding them, and in the quiet acknowledgment of power that could exist without coercion.

As if he was here but perhaps I was simply imagining things. "No." I asserted. "So you want war then. Green we both know that if our communities go against each other, there would be no winner. It will just be a cycle of endless war between our kind. One that could last for hundreds of years." He explained. "Do you want that? I don't know what you're planning to use these artifacts for but I'm pretty sure you don't have a few hundred years to spare just to get my stone."

Why so many this time? “Papa, will they be making Mr. Glassman go too?” Alene had come down the stairs after hearing the noise in the kitchen. “Yes my dear. He is under 35 also. I am afraid the betrothal and weddings will need to be put off until all this is over and the dust settles.” Alene now hurled herself at Heather who was seated closest to the stairs and began to cry with her. They were all scared. The girls had not known what a war like this would mean. Mama and Papa knew. The last time there was one like this many of the men did not come back. There were many widows, orphans, and spinsters as a result. Papa had been just under the age limit when it ended. He was eager to join when i