Original Writing by Robert Leigh Angus

   {Footnotes located at the bottom of the page} Do the right thing? The best part of contemplative ethics is that morality is a matter of intention. What is the motif? What is the desired outcome? What are acceptable limits of that outcome? What constitutes success? Failure? What are your weaknesses? Strengths? Opportunities? Resources? Risks? Rewards? Treats? Possible unintentional consequences? Potential side benefits? Who wins? Who loses? Who gets hurt in the meantime? Are there casualties? Do they matter? [1] If not to you, then to whom?   Premise in narrative poses the nature of conflict, explored by characters, and how the consequences of their actions are faced. The classic philosophical treatise on the subject, The Poetics, by Aristotle,   explains that the dynamic interaction between Plot (Mythos, that is, the progression of incidents and events) and Character (Ethos, or their motifs, morality, choices, thoughts, behavior, etc.) are key elements in...

  The city was abuzz with humour. There was so much to do, to see, to think upon. There is so much to fill the eager young mind of a man with nothing better to do than to wander, and take what he might want. Thomas was just such a man. There was no family for him to consider in his doings, and little more than money to keep him from wanting. Food was plentiful, and the merchants often so distracted that a pastry here, a fruit there might go missing without so much as a single eye noticing his having absconded with it. Thievery is so much more enjoyable when the belly was full, and so much more profitable when the day was busy. Thomas lived in a room behind the laundry, his small shelter little more than a slight addition to the main building itself. There were two such sheds, one held tools for the garden, and his, with a wide window, a small cot against the wall, and the red tile bricks which roofed it. He needed little more. The misteress of the laundry took him in when h...

  “Ah, Jaque, you made it! Thank the gods.” Therese held me close, her face buried in my chest, tears cutting lines in the dust, smoke and soot on her face. We gathered in the darkness of that smoke filled night, fires burned around us, bodies strewn across the streets, the smoke mingling with the screams and cries of the damned. We moved swiftly through the ruins of the city, which only yesterday was a bustle of friendly activity, now, only a smudge of soot, rubble, and fire. It was only in the darkest of spaces between the catacombs and the sub-basements of the ancient city remains below us that shelter could be sought from the onslaught of the enemy above, and quickly we hurried to find an entrance. Many found safe haven through the sewers and old underground train stations. Indeed, the meek shall inherit the earth. Our enemy sought no peace, desired nothing but destruction. We did not anticipate their swift attack, they gave neither warning nor respite. Instead, we were c...