“Ready?”
“Go!”
With both hands, Rikit brought the steak knife down on the taut string. The plastic spoon, released, launched the walnut toward the ceiling, where it was caught midway by one of several spatulas. Step by step, Targo's machine unfolded. At last, the heavy jug of rice toppled off the countertop, dragging more string with it. The refrigerator door creaked. Rikit and Targo held their breath. The door swung shut again. The tiny figures sighed.
Nora sighed, too, her head on her paws. She knew who would be blamed for the mess when the Master arrived home.
---
Because it's been a while since I indulged my fondness for gnomes (or did a particularly light flitterfic), and you can really never have too many gnomes, can you?
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Distant Light of a Rising Star
Internet putzed out on me yesterday, so here's the followup, with today's shortly afterward. I know my previous lunges toward continuity have rarely met with success, but for some reason I was really struck with several images after the first "Rising Star." (And I still haven't managed to work the original idea into a flitterfic yet.)
---
The advertisements were the worst part. “Our prices haven't changed in thousands of years!” one ad boasted. “Everybody wants some,” crooned another. “So quick, so easy!” announced a third.
Onsler stalked through the streets, hands stuffed into his overcoat pockets. Gremlin clung to his shoulder, oohing and aahing at the colorful posters, tugging on Onsler's ear to point out especially attractive ones. Onsler could feel the tiny demon's presence in his soul. The ads promised the world, but in the end, you got what you paid for. He shot a glance at Gremlin. Meager soul; meager demon.
---
The advertisements were the worst part. “Our prices haven't changed in thousands of years!” one ad boasted. “Everybody wants some,” crooned another. “So quick, so easy!” announced a third.
Onsler stalked through the streets, hands stuffed into his overcoat pockets. Gremlin clung to his shoulder, oohing and aahing at the colorful posters, tugging on Onsler's ear to point out especially attractive ones. Onsler could feel the tiny demon's presence in his soul. The ads promised the world, but in the end, you got what you paid for. He shot a glance at Gremlin. Meager soul; meager demon.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Interview with a Rising Star
“Oh, the great Lords of the Pit can destroy cities, even entire countries,” said Malvoris the Sorcerer. He settled into the overstuffed armchair and swirled his Scotch, the ice cubes clinking against the side of the glass. “But there are many smaller imps and minor devils, and all of these, too, can be bound to one's will, if one is determined. No, the real revolution of demonology will be in the countless creature comforts now available to even the poorest of the poor, for every man, no matter how lowly, possesses the collateral.”
“Collateral?”
“A soul.”
“Collateral?”
“A soul.”
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Falling
The wind whistles in my ears, sends my hair whipping across my face and neck. I can still smell the smoke, even as the wind thrusts it violently behind me. Scorched feathers, singed flesh. Above me, the smoke is a dark spiral against the white of the clouds, and farther still the shimmering Gate, its light narrowing to a pinprick as it closes, leaving me outside. Forever.
That won't be a problem for long. Far, far below, so far that I can see only a green and blue smear, is the ground. Approaching.
I smile, the wind in my hair.
That won't be a problem for long. Far, far below, so far that I can see only a green and blue smear, is the ground. Approaching.
I smile, the wind in my hair.
Cleanse
He shuffled down the hallway, pushing his broom and bucket before him. The building thrummed around him, shuddering with hidden energy. The laminate floor and the acoustic tiles seemed to fade as each ripple of force passed through them, revealing dark stone like smoke. Through the ebony surface, one could see thin black legs and wriggling bodies, scrabbling at the surface as though digging to escape, to burst from the black rock into the world of light. The janitor whistled a jaunty tune and stopped to mop another section. Behind him, the shadows flailed at their prison with silent fury.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Pizza Express Delivers in Thirty Minutes, Guaranteed
Milo was running late. Twenty-nine minutes and counting. His tires squealed as he rounded the corner. The speedometer registered nearly fifty. As Milo struggled with the wheel, a child darted across the street. He slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt mere inches from the terrified little girl.
The family at the house was very understanding. They paid for their pizza even though it was a minute past the Delivery Promise. Milo had been late, but he'd gotten paid. That counted, right?
Something shifted in the darkness behind him. “You have broken the agreement,” hissed the sibilant voice.
The family at the house was very understanding. They paid for their pizza even though it was a minute past the Delivery Promise. Milo had been late, but he'd gotten paid. That counted, right?
Something shifted in the darkness behind him. “You have broken the agreement,” hissed the sibilant voice.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Among the Fallen Stones
Taku moved slowly through the rubble and scree. He called every now and then, but without much hope. There were many boulders of sufficient size, and more that had been shattered by the force of their impact. Taku was worried. His friend had been silent a long time.
At last Taku sat to rest, holding his head in despair.
“Hello,” said the Wisest Stone from beneath him.
Taku jumped. “I could not find you amid the stones!” he said. “Why did you not answer my calls?”
“I knew which one I was,” answered the Wisest Stone.
At last Taku sat to rest, holding his head in despair.
“Hello,” said the Wisest Stone from beneath him.
Taku jumped. “I could not find you amid the stones!” he said. “Why did you not answer my calls?”
“I knew which one I was,” answered the Wisest Stone.
Solstice
The sun rose. This was the day of the Winter Festival, the turning point of the year, when the night was longest. Soon the nights would retreat and the days grow longer instead. The revelry lasted well into the hours of darkness. At midnight came the climax of the festival. Afterward, they cleaned the stone block, staining the snow around it a washed-out red. The party continued with renewed fervor, as everyone fought to convince themselves everything was fine and would continue so. They waited for the sun, knowing the worst was past.
Morning came. The sun did not rise.
Morning came. The sun did not rise.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Bad to the Bone
Heading on vacation for a couple of weeks, so updates may be a day or two late. I will do my best to keep them steady, flitterfic fans (all three of you), but please do not be overhasty in mocking me should the day's story be uploaded tardily.
---
Dirk pushed into the bar with the attitude of a prowling dog. His leather jacket was studded with metal. On the back, an airbrushed skeleton in a similar jacket menaced a poorly-clad woman. There was a motorcycle. “Bad to the Bone” was written beneath it in letters of blood and fire.
Dirk headed for the counter, but was arrested by a grip on his shoulder. A cold, bony hand.
A skeleton whose eye sockets flickered with blue fire stood behind him. “Come out, brother,” it said, grinning. Dirk felt something shift and break, somewhere inside him. Down at the bone.
---
Dirk pushed into the bar with the attitude of a prowling dog. His leather jacket was studded with metal. On the back, an airbrushed skeleton in a similar jacket menaced a poorly-clad woman. There was a motorcycle. “Bad to the Bone” was written beneath it in letters of blood and fire.
Dirk headed for the counter, but was arrested by a grip on his shoulder. A cold, bony hand.
A skeleton whose eye sockets flickered with blue fire stood behind him. “Come out, brother,” it said, grinning. Dirk felt something shift and break, somewhere inside him. Down at the bone.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Autumn
The grove was filled with color and motion. The leaves and flowers of the trees were of every color imaginable, a riotous and chaotic burst, and they rustled as they tumbled from the branches to the ground, drifting and falling one by one.
“It’s amazing,” Sandra murmured. Her feet crunched on the forest floor.
“Your kind do not often come here,” said her guide.
“What are they?”
“The trees? Every scrap of happiness, every beautiful thing grows into a blossom. When it dies, it falls to the forest floor.”
Sandra paused and stared upward. Around them, petals dropped like rain.
“It’s amazing,” Sandra murmured. Her feet crunched on the forest floor.
“Your kind do not often come here,” said her guide.
“What are they?”
“The trees? Every scrap of happiness, every beautiful thing grows into a blossom. When it dies, it falls to the forest floor.”
Sandra paused and stared upward. Around them, petals dropped like rain.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Hermits
“There, see?” Dad pointed down at the sand. “They’re called hermit crabs because they don’t have shells of their own. When they get too big, they go find a bigger shell to use.”
Allie squatted and watched the naked crustacean scuttle away. “Where do the big shells come from?”
“Oh, all sorts of things make their own shells.” Dad sighed and stood. “It’s all part of the circle of life. Which doesn’t really help us much.”
He turned to regard the gaping hole that had been their house’s foundation. Water spurted uselessly from broken pipes, gouged by enormous claw marks.
Allie squatted and watched the naked crustacean scuttle away. “Where do the big shells come from?”
“Oh, all sorts of things make their own shells.” Dad sighed and stood. “It’s all part of the circle of life. Which doesn’t really help us much.”
He turned to regard the gaping hole that had been their house’s foundation. Water spurted uselessly from broken pipes, gouged by enormous claw marks.
Philosophies of Life
“My existence is precarious,” said the see-saw. “I am now of one mind, now of another; I never achieve perfect balance, for always there are pressures on either side driving me.”
“I am lowly,” said the swing. “I hover at the bottom, yearning for the heights; reaching ever upward, but always settling to my lowest ebb; I return, no matter how greatly I strive.”
“There is no compromise,” said the slide. “One direction and one alone. They try to defy me, always, and always I send them tumbling backwards. Skinned knees upon them all!”
“I’m a pigeon,” said the pigeon.
“I am lowly,” said the swing. “I hover at the bottom, yearning for the heights; reaching ever upward, but always settling to my lowest ebb; I return, no matter how greatly I strive.”
“There is no compromise,” said the slide. “One direction and one alone. They try to defy me, always, and always I send them tumbling backwards. Skinned knees upon them all!”
“I’m a pigeon,” said the pigeon.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
And the One After That
He let the bundle drop. It squished, leaking dark fluid onto the floor. “It’s done,” he said.
Teeth gleamed in the darkness, pale and needle-like things. “Good. Your next task is awaiting you outside.”
“My next task…?” the hunter muttered. “When will I be finished? When is this done?”
His master shifted its obscene bulk. “Do not ask questions to which you know the answers.”
“I was young when I made the bargain,” the man cried. “Please, I didn’t fully understand. I made a mistake.”
“Yet the choice was made,” the voice burbled. “Your next task is awaiting you outside.”
Teeth gleamed in the darkness, pale and needle-like things. “Good. Your next task is awaiting you outside.”
“My next task…?” the hunter muttered. “When will I be finished? When is this done?”
His master shifted its obscene bulk. “Do not ask questions to which you know the answers.”
“I was young when I made the bargain,” the man cried. “Please, I didn’t fully understand. I made a mistake.”
“Yet the choice was made,” the voice burbled. “Your next task is awaiting you outside.”
Lester's Doomed Love
Sorry about this weekend. Combination of factors, primarily being bone-tired. Expect more sporadic updates for the next month; I'll be at the beach, then GenCon, and finally at a friend's wedding. I'll do my best to keep the ball rolling, however!
---
“The pipes in the restroom sinks are clogged again,” said Lauren. She rubbed at her left ankle with her other foot. “And I think… I think there’s a rat in there.”
Ned nodded. “I’ll get on it, miss.”
He set up the yellow warning sign and wheeled his cart inside. “Goddamn it, Lester, you addle-brained son of an octopus!” he snapped. “I’ve done told you about stayin’ out the pipes.”
With a gurgle, slender black tentacles emerged from the toilet bowls. One of them opened an eye.
“And you’d best stop gropin’ the ladies afore someone gets suspicious,” Ned said.
---
“The pipes in the restroom sinks are clogged again,” said Lauren. She rubbed at her left ankle with her other foot. “And I think… I think there’s a rat in there.”
Ned nodded. “I’ll get on it, miss.”
He set up the yellow warning sign and wheeled his cart inside. “Goddamn it, Lester, you addle-brained son of an octopus!” he snapped. “I’ve done told you about stayin’ out the pipes.”
With a gurgle, slender black tentacles emerged from the toilet bowls. One of them opened an eye.
“And you’d best stop gropin’ the ladies afore someone gets suspicious,” Ned said.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Fruit Cocktail
The revelers were stumbling around, blind and deaf. It made Didi sick, not just with revulsion, but also with fear. He swiveled his ears. Trying to find one individual in this swarm was nearly impossible.
A young female lurched toward him, her fur matted. She flopped a wing around Didi. “Y’wanna havva taaste?” she slurred, proffering a gnawed-on chunk of long-fallen fruit, fermented sour.
“I don’t eat windfalls,” Didi said. He fluttered into the air. “Shimsi!” he called. “For God’s sake, come back to the cave! It’s nearly dawn. You’ll be caught on the ground!”
Only drunken laughter answered him.
A young female lurched toward him, her fur matted. She flopped a wing around Didi. “Y’wanna havva taaste?” she slurred, proffering a gnawed-on chunk of long-fallen fruit, fermented sour.
“I don’t eat windfalls,” Didi said. He fluttered into the air. “Shimsi!” he called. “For God’s sake, come back to the cave! It’s nearly dawn. You’ll be caught on the ground!”
Only drunken laughter answered him.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Mile a Minute
The old buildings were covered, absolutely covered, in trailing vines with wide, flat leaves.
“God, how old is this place?” Cathy asked.
“Probably abandoned in the fifties, judging by the gas pumps,” I said.
Cathy raised skeptical eyebrows.
“They call it the ‘mile-a-minute vine’ for a reason,” I told her as we stepped under the leaf-covered awning. The plant filled the space, covering even the cafe tables. “It doesn’t take long-“ I cut myself off when the solid mass shifted and we saw the woman, mouth gaping in a silent scream, her body still warm.
Something brushed against my ankle.
“God, how old is this place?” Cathy asked.
“Probably abandoned in the fifties, judging by the gas pumps,” I said.
Cathy raised skeptical eyebrows.
“They call it the ‘mile-a-minute vine’ for a reason,” I told her as we stepped under the leaf-covered awning. The plant filled the space, covering even the cafe tables. “It doesn’t take long-“ I cut myself off when the solid mass shifted and we saw the woman, mouth gaping in a silent scream, her body still warm.
Something brushed against my ankle.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
All Smiles
Teeth together, firmly. Pull the lips back. Up, up; don’t grimace. Smile. Smile! Yes, that’s it. Keep smiling.
It’s been a long day. Flashing teeth at everyone, coworkers and friends, supervisors and strangers. Always the wide grin, teeth locked together. Imagine they are fused. Imagine they are growing larger, too large to keep inside. Let them out. Keep them showing. Smile.
Almost over. Keep that smile going!
Ignore that sound. You’re imagining things. Keep your jaw closed. There is no voice. There is no frantic scrabbling. There are no tiny fists beating on the inside of your teeth.
Keep smiling.
It’s been a long day. Flashing teeth at everyone, coworkers and friends, supervisors and strangers. Always the wide grin, teeth locked together. Imagine they are fused. Imagine they are growing larger, too large to keep inside. Let them out. Keep them showing. Smile.
Almost over. Keep that smile going!
Ignore that sound. You’re imagining things. Keep your jaw closed. There is no voice. There is no frantic scrabbling. There are no tiny fists beating on the inside of your teeth.
Keep smiling.
SPCA
“Well, I’m afraid we’re running out of options,” said Diane, pushing open the door to the back room. It, too, was lined with cages. “These are some of our troubled occupants. Biters, behavior issues, that sort of thing. Some of these guys have been here a long time.”
“What’s this doggy’s name?” asked Lilly.
“I am the Darkwalker,” growled the shadowed form. “I am the end of all life. I will devour this world and every other. Release me and I will slay you quickly and without pain.”
“I’m going to call you Bubbles,” Lilly informed him. “Or maybe Sweetypants.”
“What’s this doggy’s name?” asked Lilly.
“I am the Darkwalker,” growled the shadowed form. “I am the end of all life. I will devour this world and every other. Release me and I will slay you quickly and without pain.”
“I’m going to call you Bubbles,” Lilly informed him. “Or maybe Sweetypants.”
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Limbo
The line didn’t seem to be getting any shorter. They wound back and forth in the roped-off corridors. In the distance, a terrible light obscured the front. There was a faint suggestion of wings.
“I’m so excited,” Geraldine confided.
“Sure you’re… going up, then?” said Paul.
“It’s probably the backlog. You know, the Apocalypse and all. The anticipation makes it better.”
“I wonder,” said Paul, “wouldn’t we be happier if we actually knew? I mean, where exactly are we now?”
Geraldine didn’t answer, but her brow wrinkled with new concern. In the distance there was a cry, abruptly cut off.
“I’m so excited,” Geraldine confided.
“Sure you’re… going up, then?” said Paul.
“It’s probably the backlog. You know, the Apocalypse and all. The anticipation makes it better.”
“I wonder,” said Paul, “wouldn’t we be happier if we actually knew? I mean, where exactly are we now?”
Geraldine didn’t answer, but her brow wrinkled with new concern. In the distance there was a cry, abruptly cut off.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Jenkins in Spring
“Jenkins!” said a muffled voice. It was followed by a bone-rattling sneeze. Muller pushed his way through the leaves to peer rheumy-eyed down at Carter Jenkins. “What’s all this… this foliage about anyway?”
“Sorry, sir,” said Jenkins. He shook his head, setting his branches shaking. “It’s springtime. I always get lots of new growth.”
“Your productivity is down five percent.”
“I haven’t gotten enough sun…”
“Now, Jenkins, we’ve been more than understanding about your… condition, but- is that a pear?”
“Looks like, Mr. Muller. I’d hoped for citrus again, but-“
“I do like a nice pear in brandy,” Muller mused.
“Sorry, sir,” said Jenkins. He shook his head, setting his branches shaking. “It’s springtime. I always get lots of new growth.”
“Your productivity is down five percent.”
“I haven’t gotten enough sun…”
“Now, Jenkins, we’ve been more than understanding about your… condition, but- is that a pear?”
“Looks like, Mr. Muller. I’d hoped for citrus again, but-“
“I do like a nice pear in brandy,” Muller mused.
Inch by Inch
It was raining. It always rained.
The swampland quivered under the deluge, the water pattering on swollen leaves and the patches of open ground, rapidly turned to soupy mud. The rooftops had long fallen in, but the columns were still standing, and some of the walls.
The statue regarded the scene. It still held its marble sword upraised. Its expression was still the triumphant sneer of the conqueror.
The rain fell. The statue slipped another fraction of an inch into the swamp. It was up to its waist.
It held its sword high. There was nothing else it could do.
The swampland quivered under the deluge, the water pattering on swollen leaves and the patches of open ground, rapidly turned to soupy mud. The rooftops had long fallen in, but the columns were still standing, and some of the walls.
The statue regarded the scene. It still held its marble sword upraised. Its expression was still the triumphant sneer of the conqueror.
The rain fell. The statue slipped another fraction of an inch into the swamp. It was up to its waist.
It held its sword high. There was nothing else it could do.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Cowboys
Clarence ducked behind the wooden trough. He dodged to the side, firing his trusty revolver. He saw the spray of blood, hot and red. He shouted in triumph only to dart for cover when his shots were unexpectedly returned.
“I shot you, Black Bart! You’re dead!” he called.
“I’m tired o’ losin’,” snarled Black Bart. “I wanna win this time.”
“You’re wearin’ the wrong color hat.”
“How ‘bout we go’n be spacemen agin? I di’n’t mind them tentacled fellers so much.”
“The ship’s broke, Bart. You know that.”
“What if we was crash-landed?”
Clarence considered. “I s’pose,” he said reluctantly.
“I shot you, Black Bart! You’re dead!” he called.
“I’m tired o’ losin’,” snarled Black Bart. “I wanna win this time.”
“You’re wearin’ the wrong color hat.”
“How ‘bout we go’n be spacemen agin? I di’n’t mind them tentacled fellers so much.”
“The ship’s broke, Bart. You know that.”
“What if we was crash-landed?”
Clarence considered. “I s’pose,” he said reluctantly.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Stool Pigeon
I'm writing this so I don't waste time actually composing an entire short story based on hard-boiled noir parakeets.
---
“How did we know?” the detective had sneered, looking down his beak. “Your buddy talked. You oughtta know not to trust a magpie.”
The memory haunted Kikri as he shuffled along the low branch. The watering hole was a few hundred yards away, barely any distance by wing. On foot… He waddled to the trunk, feeling his new balance shifting oddly. With beak and toe he clambered down the rough bole.
The forest looked different down here. Kikri told himself it was just the new perspective that made the trees loom overhead, but he couldn’t forget that he’d been betrayed.
---
“How did we know?” the detective had sneered, looking down his beak. “Your buddy talked. You oughtta know not to trust a magpie.”
The memory haunted Kikri as he shuffled along the low branch. The watering hole was a few hundred yards away, barely any distance by wing. On foot… He waddled to the trunk, feeling his new balance shifting oddly. With beak and toe he clambered down the rough bole.
The forest looked different down here. Kikri told himself it was just the new perspective that made the trees loom overhead, but he couldn’t forget that he’d been betrayed.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Flight Risk
“It’s only for a few weeks,” said the officer, a blue and yellow budgerigar in an official cap. Kikri hadn’t asked his name.
“Just do it,” he muttered.
The officer hesitated, then nodded to the black-feathered nurse, who pecked at the keys awkwardly, not using her toes. “Restriction or full grounding?” she asked.
“Full.”
The machine whirred to life. “It won’t hurt,” the budgie assured him, bobbing. “They almost always grow back.”
Kikri extended his wings and allowed them to be guided into the dark recesses of the clipper. Like having your nails trimmed, he told himself. He looked away.
“Just do it,” he muttered.
The officer hesitated, then nodded to the black-feathered nurse, who pecked at the keys awkwardly, not using her toes. “Restriction or full grounding?” she asked.
“Full.”
The machine whirred to life. “It won’t hurt,” the budgie assured him, bobbing. “They almost always grow back.”
Kikri extended his wings and allowed them to be guided into the dark recesses of the clipper. Like having your nails trimmed, he told himself. He looked away.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Chained
What had been done to him was shocking. His wings were stripped and broken. Chains of fire held every limb in a cruel grip. The scent of burning flesh was strong.
“We must free him!” said the sorcerer.
“Stop!. I must remain bound. I was judged and sentenced for my deeds. If I am freed, that would be a travesty of justice.”
“And if you were judged unfairly?” asked the demon.
The angel looked upon him. “Then that, too, would ultimately destroy the idea of perfect justice. I must remain bound. It is the only way justice will be served.”
“We must free him!” said the sorcerer.
“Stop!. I must remain bound. I was judged and sentenced for my deeds. If I am freed, that would be a travesty of justice.”
“And if you were judged unfairly?” asked the demon.
The angel looked upon him. “Then that, too, would ultimately destroy the idea of perfect justice. I must remain bound. It is the only way justice will be served.”
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Journey's End
He stood on the beach. The damp sand was firm beneath his feet, but every wave that washed across his ankles scooped a little more of the earth away, leaving him slowly sinking in a soupy quagmire.
A frown creased his lips and furrowed his brow as he turned and regarded the path that lay behind him. Footsteps across the sand. Beyond that, they stretched across the entirety of the continent. This was the edge. He could travel no further.
After a time, he turned and strode forward again. The icy water washed against his thighs, his waist, his chest…
A frown creased his lips and furrowed his brow as he turned and regarded the path that lay behind him. Footsteps across the sand. Beyond that, they stretched across the entirety of the continent. This was the edge. He could travel no further.
After a time, he turned and strode forward again. The icy water washed against his thighs, his waist, his chest…
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Deer and the River
When Deer came to the river, he paused. The river was deep and wide, cold enough that chunks of ice still floated within.
“River,” said Deer. “Lower your waters, that I might pass.”
“Alas, I cannot,” said the river. “I carry the snowmelt down from the mountains and out to the sea.”
“Can you not refuse the water?” asked Deer.
“I am a river. I have not the freedom animals have, to travel wherever they wish, to stop or move on a whim.”
Deer glanced backwards and listened for the hounds. “We all have that which drives us,” he said.
“River,” said Deer. “Lower your waters, that I might pass.”
“Alas, I cannot,” said the river. “I carry the snowmelt down from the mountains and out to the sea.”
“Can you not refuse the water?” asked Deer.
“I am a river. I have not the freedom animals have, to travel wherever they wish, to stop or move on a whim.”
Deer glanced backwards and listened for the hounds. “We all have that which drives us,” he said.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The End
For seventy years, the house had been silent. Wrapped in a soundless cocoon, even the creaks of ancient wood were muted. Birds did not sing in the trees, but stared with beady black eyes. Footsteps were muffled. Passersby moved on tiptoe without knowing why.
In the attic room, an old man wrote with a pen into an open book. Similar tomes littered the ground and the shelves. With a flourish, he finished the final line. He was nearly at the end of his self-imposed exile. He looked up at the narrow window and smiled.
He opened his mouth to speak…
In the attic room, an old man wrote with a pen into an open book. Similar tomes littered the ground and the shelves. With a flourish, he finished the final line. He was nearly at the end of his self-imposed exile. He looked up at the narrow window and smiled.
He opened his mouth to speak…
The Beachhead
For a time, it was the talk of the neighborhood. Jennifer used to take the other children on little tours, wearing a hat and jacket from her dress-up box.
“It’s the world’s largest anthill!” she’d proclaim proudly, gesturing with a flourish to the chest-high mound of sand that filled a corner of the empty lot, covered in wriggling motion. The house would probably never be built, now, though they’d broken earth for the foundation. Money troubles, supposedly.
It was a seven-day marvel, and then forgotten, becoming just another background detail. They never suspected just how far the tunnels were running…
“It’s the world’s largest anthill!” she’d proclaim proudly, gesturing with a flourish to the chest-high mound of sand that filled a corner of the empty lot, covered in wriggling motion. The house would probably never be built, now, though they’d broken earth for the foundation. Money troubles, supposedly.
It was a seven-day marvel, and then forgotten, becoming just another background detail. They never suspected just how far the tunnels were running…
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Fill It Up
Harold slotted the nozzle into the gas tank and glanced to the other side of the pump, where a blond woman was filling up her little two door.
“Wish this place was a little more convenient,” he said. “It’s the only place between home and work to fill up, though.”
She glanced up and smiled. “It’s out of my way. He insists on it, though. He likes the taste.” She patted her car’s trunk.
Harold chuckled, until she turned to hang up the nozzle and he saw the tongue dart out of her gas tank, lapping up the spilled droplets.
“Wish this place was a little more convenient,” he said. “It’s the only place between home and work to fill up, though.”
She glanced up and smiled. “It’s out of my way. He insists on it, though. He likes the taste.” She patted her car’s trunk.
Harold chuckled, until she turned to hang up the nozzle and he saw the tongue dart out of her gas tank, lapping up the spilled droplets.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
A Haunting in the Living Room
“So that’s the haunting?”
“Yup,” said Charlie.
The blue triangle hovered in midair, making a soft humming sound. Florence scratched her nose and cocked her head to one side. “What’s it the ghost of?”
“Dunno. Not a person, definitely.”
“Jackie’s house has a ghost. It manifests as an insect swarm.”
“Sounds gross.” Charlie continued playing his video game.
Flo shrugged. “Keeps the floors clean. You gonna get it exorcised?”
“Nah. It’s got a nice kind of white noise tone. Maybe if it starts dumping squirrel carcasses again.”
“Was it doing that?”
“Either that or a stray cat. Not sure which.”
“Yup,” said Charlie.
The blue triangle hovered in midair, making a soft humming sound. Florence scratched her nose and cocked her head to one side. “What’s it the ghost of?”
“Dunno. Not a person, definitely.”
“Jackie’s house has a ghost. It manifests as an insect swarm.”
“Sounds gross.” Charlie continued playing his video game.
Flo shrugged. “Keeps the floors clean. You gonna get it exorcised?”
“Nah. It’s got a nice kind of white noise tone. Maybe if it starts dumping squirrel carcasses again.”
“Was it doing that?”
“Either that or a stray cat. Not sure which.”
If Thy Hand Offends
“So how’s the reduction going, Brian?”
The nutrient gel rippled as he replied. “Oh, pretty well. I got rid of my liver last week.”
“Hands and feet and eyes, I can see. Lots of sins you can see or touch or walk to. The digestive tract, okay, gluttony, sure. Your liver?”
“Metabolizes alcohol.”
“Ah.”
“The pancreas, too; sugar is a temptation. Sight, smell, taste, touch; I’ve got them all covered.”
“Isn’t it your brain, though, that really understands things to be sinful and wants to do them?”
There was a pause. “I really wish you hadn’t said that,” said Brian.
The nutrient gel rippled as he replied. “Oh, pretty well. I got rid of my liver last week.”
“Hands and feet and eyes, I can see. Lots of sins you can see or touch or walk to. The digestive tract, okay, gluttony, sure. Your liver?”
“Metabolizes alcohol.”
“Ah.”
“The pancreas, too; sugar is a temptation. Sight, smell, taste, touch; I’ve got them all covered.”
“Isn’t it your brain, though, that really understands things to be sinful and wants to do them?”
There was a pause. “I really wish you hadn’t said that,” said Brian.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Four Pillars
The great wings swept through the void as the black, horned thing flew downward. Distant lights glimmered in the darkness. The sorcerer was cradled in the taloned hands, nestled like an infant against the fire-scarred chest. It reeked of brimstone.
“We are passing now through the heart of the world,” said the demon. “The light you see ahead. That is the cavern of the Pillars of the Four Elements.”
The sorcerer nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ve read of the place. The foundations of all matter. Fire, earth, air, and water.”
The demon shook its head. “No. Faith, Hope, Love… and Regret.”
“We are passing now through the heart of the world,” said the demon. “The light you see ahead. That is the cavern of the Pillars of the Four Elements.”
The sorcerer nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ve read of the place. The foundations of all matter. Fire, earth, air, and water.”
The demon shook its head. “No. Faith, Hope, Love… and Regret.”
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Humble Servant of Science
“Everything I have done,” said Doctor Geisteskrank, “I have done to advance human knowledge and understanding. I regret nothing.”
The rhythmic slamming was growing louder as the door bent farther and farther out of its frame. The small closet was decidedly cramped with both of them in it.
“How exactly does this advance human knowledge?” asked Bartlett. A coil of wire had fallen around his head, adorning him like a necklace. The door squealed as it lost a hinge. A scaled claw was briefly visible in the gap.
The doctor considered. “It has, perhaps, at times been somewhat indirectly beneficial.”
The rhythmic slamming was growing louder as the door bent farther and farther out of its frame. The small closet was decidedly cramped with both of them in it.
“How exactly does this advance human knowledge?” asked Bartlett. A coil of wire had fallen around his head, adorning him like a necklace. The door squealed as it lost a hinge. A scaled claw was briefly visible in the gap.
The doctor considered. “It has, perhaps, at times been somewhat indirectly beneficial.”
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Take the Cup from My Lips
Lord Orvald looked across the table to Reisha and raised his glass in a toast. She smiled and did likewise.
“Ah, my love,” he said, “it saddens me to go. What would you do if I died in battle?”
“Were you dead, my lord,” Reisha murmured, “I would die as well, and gladly.”
He chuckled and made to reach for her, but his limbs became cold and limp. He stared in horror at the wineglass still in his hand, and then to Reisha, slumping down beside him.
“Poisoned? Why?” he gasped.
“I have told you already.” She smiled. “My lord.”
“Ah, my love,” he said, “it saddens me to go. What would you do if I died in battle?”
“Were you dead, my lord,” Reisha murmured, “I would die as well, and gladly.”
He chuckled and made to reach for her, but his limbs became cold and limp. He stared in horror at the wineglass still in his hand, and then to Reisha, slumping down beside him.
“Poisoned? Why?” he gasped.
“I have told you already.” She smiled. “My lord.”
Beans
Jack clicked open a new tab. “GUARANTEED GROWTH!” trumpeted the header. It was flashing. And jiggling.
The graphic displayed a handful of pills in an outstretched hand. Then a whole bunch of testimonials and overwrought praise. Below, an order form. Jack tabbed back to his bank account. Just enough money. That was supposed to buy groceries, though. Bread, milk, fresh eggs.
“Well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ll just get ramen and canned peas,” Jack muttered. She was always telling him he had his head in the clouds. He’d show her.
He sat back, dreaming of fallen giants.
The graphic displayed a handful of pills in an outstretched hand. Then a whole bunch of testimonials and overwrought praise. Below, an order form. Jack tabbed back to his bank account. Just enough money. That was supposed to buy groceries, though. Bread, milk, fresh eggs.
“Well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ll just get ramen and canned peas,” Jack muttered. She was always telling him he had his head in the clouds. He’d show her.
He sat back, dreaming of fallen giants.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Nectar of the Gods
The alarm had already gone off twice. Time, he supposed, to get up.
Felt awful. Head fuzzy. Tongue tasted of asparagus. Also possibly fuzzy. Would have thought he had a hangover. The thought provoked, if not a smile, then at least the right frame of mind for smiling.
Something to wake him up, that was the ticket. A peppy drink. Ambrosia? Meh. Perhaps the mortals had come up with something interesting. He peered out the window, looking down at his world.
“Oh, stuff me,” he muttered after a long, appalled silence.
He went back to bed. Another millennium, at least.
Felt awful. Head fuzzy. Tongue tasted of asparagus. Also possibly fuzzy. Would have thought he had a hangover. The thought provoked, if not a smile, then at least the right frame of mind for smiling.
Something to wake him up, that was the ticket. A peppy drink. Ambrosia? Meh. Perhaps the mortals had come up with something interesting. He peered out the window, looking down at his world.
“Oh, stuff me,” he muttered after a long, appalled silence.
He went back to bed. Another millennium, at least.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Pangs
As they waited, the Wisest Stone recounted the story of his creation for Taku, who had not asked.
“The ground was shattered,” he said, “and fire rained down from the sky. The sea shook with the force of the blast. Great cracks split the island and smoke blackened the sun. My brothers and I screamed as we plummeted down, hurled into the air by the violence of the eruption.”
Taku wrapped his arms around his legs. “It sounds horrible. Why was your birth so traumatic?”
“There is always pain at a birth,” said the Wisest Stone. “Nothing new comes easily.”
“The ground was shattered,” he said, “and fire rained down from the sky. The sea shook with the force of the blast. Great cracks split the island and smoke blackened the sun. My brothers and I screamed as we plummeted down, hurled into the air by the violence of the eruption.”
Taku wrapped his arms around his legs. “It sounds horrible. Why was your birth so traumatic?”
“There is always pain at a birth,” said the Wisest Stone. “Nothing new comes easily.”
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Raising a Stink
Robby was too slow getting out. The water swirled down the drain and carried him with it. He caught a last glimpse of the bathroom mirror, fogged over, before he was swallowed.
It was dark down in the sewers. A rat approached.
“Now you’ve done it,” the rat said. “It’ll have settled into your life properly by now.”
“What do you mean?” Robby blinked the filth from his eyes.
“Cause and effect. Something new comes in, something like it comes out,” said the rat.
“Won’t my mom notice?”
“Sure. ‘What a stinker that boy has been,’ she’ll say to herself.”
It was dark down in the sewers. A rat approached.
“Now you’ve done it,” the rat said. “It’ll have settled into your life properly by now.”
“What do you mean?” Robby blinked the filth from his eyes.
“Cause and effect. Something new comes in, something like it comes out,” said the rat.
“Won’t my mom notice?”
“Sure. ‘What a stinker that boy has been,’ she’ll say to herself.”
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Lifetimes Piling Up
This one had some snappy dialogue originally, but it was forty words over and something had to go. I think that's the thing I like least about this format; no room for idle chitchat.
---
“Slow down!” I said.
Ted scrabbled at the dashboard, triggering a half-dozen defense systems. An oil slick, a smoke cloud, and a gout of fire burst from the rear of the car. The dark cars fanned out behind us, a hunting pattern. They were drawing near.
“Shit!” Ted grappled with the steering wheel. The wheels slipped and the car hurtled sideways.
After the chaos of the crash, I slipped a silver disc into the ruined dashboard. Ted’s mangled body flickered. I frowned at him as he shook his head.
“You’ve got to be more careful. I’m running out of quarters.”
---
“Slow down!” I said.
Ted scrabbled at the dashboard, triggering a half-dozen defense systems. An oil slick, a smoke cloud, and a gout of fire burst from the rear of the car. The dark cars fanned out behind us, a hunting pattern. They were drawing near.
“Shit!” Ted grappled with the steering wheel. The wheels slipped and the car hurtled sideways.
After the chaos of the crash, I slipped a silver disc into the ruined dashboard. Ted’s mangled body flickered. I frowned at him as he shook his head.
“You’ve got to be more careful. I’m running out of quarters.”
Monday, June 29, 2009
Growing Pains
York stumped along, trailing smoke and favoring his left leg. He nodded to Cinci in passing.
“How’s it going?” York said.
Cinci shrugged. She scratched at a patch of windows. A tiny figure was dislodged and fell, screaming tinnily. “Been better.”
“Oh?”
“My health, you know.” She covered her mouth and burped, sending a cloud of smog skyward. “I think it’s the light rail. It just doesn’t agree with me.”
“Ah, well, it’s good in the long run,” said York. “Me, it’s these darned suburbs.” He shook his leg to demonstrate. Several houses fell off and tinkled to the ground.
“How’s it going?” York said.
Cinci shrugged. She scratched at a patch of windows. A tiny figure was dislodged and fell, screaming tinnily. “Been better.”
“Oh?”
“My health, you know.” She covered her mouth and burped, sending a cloud of smog skyward. “I think it’s the light rail. It just doesn’t agree with me.”
“Ah, well, it’s good in the long run,” said York. “Me, it’s these darned suburbs.” He shook his leg to demonstrate. Several houses fell off and tinkled to the ground.
Urban Renewal
The rustling and creaking had slowed in recent days. The buildings were all restored, every brick and stone. They were pristine, untouched, and in perfect working order. The stores were filled with every manner of useful good, kept safe behind polished windows. There was no one to steal them. The streetlights faithfully flashed red and green, keeping watch over empty streets. Each night, the buildings lit with soft yellow glows as basement furnaces hummed, illuminating and warming silent rooms.
On the outskirts, an overpass crept out towards the blasted desert. The task was not yet finished. It was barely begun.
On the outskirts, an overpass crept out towards the blasted desert. The task was not yet finished. It was barely begun.
Fuel
Woo! Back and ready for action!
---
The car lurched to an uneven halt, one wheel bumping up onto the curb. The tires were useless rags around the scarred, blackened hubcaps. The windshield was gone, or mostly gone, a few shards still clinging to the frame. The entire frame was pockmarked with tiny craters, like bulletholes. It steamed, even in the autumn air.
Dan kicked the door until it fell off, which counted as opening. He staggered out, coughing. He pushed his way into the store with the empty bottle.
“…additive?” he gasped.
The trim man behind the countertop shrugged. “You said you wanted to go faster.”
---
The car lurched to an uneven halt, one wheel bumping up onto the curb. The tires were useless rags around the scarred, blackened hubcaps. The windshield was gone, or mostly gone, a few shards still clinging to the frame. The entire frame was pockmarked with tiny craters, like bulletholes. It steamed, even in the autumn air.
Dan kicked the door until it fell off, which counted as opening. He staggered out, coughing. He pushed his way into the store with the empty bottle.
“…additive?” he gasped.
The trim man behind the countertop shrugged. “You said you wanted to go faster.”
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Infested
“Yes, hello? I have a pest problem. No, I haven't ever called you before. I run a clean house. Yes, it's urgent. They're keeping me awake at night, that's why! All that grunting and slamming around; it's enough to drive me batty. And the pantry is stripped clean. They even ate the baking soda!” She glared at the sumo wrestler perched on the loveseat. He blushed.
“No, I haven't tried traps,” she said into the phone. “I wouldn't know where to begin.”
The sumo wrestler hung his head. Behind him, the rest of his heya did likewise.
“No, I haven't tried traps,” she said into the phone. “I wouldn't know where to begin.”
The sumo wrestler hung his head. Behind him, the rest of his heya did likewise.
Express
Traveling is fun! I'll get yesterday and the day before posted now. Expect today's sometime later on. We just got the laptop hooked up to the hotel's wireless.
---
Candace moved to the edge of the curb and raised her hand. She was taken aback when a group of large men in football helmets charged noisily to her side of the street. They carried a palanquin between them.
“Who are you?” said Candace.
The leader glanced at her. His face was invisible inside his helmet. “We are a taxi,” he said.
Candace hesitated, then shrugged and mounted the palanquin's steps. A whistle blew. Two players darted into the cross-traffic, slamming cars aside with a crunch and a roar. The taxi, bearing Candace aloft, followed in their wake.
---
Candace moved to the edge of the curb and raised her hand. She was taken aback when a group of large men in football helmets charged noisily to her side of the street. They carried a palanquin between them.
“Who are you?” said Candace.
The leader glanced at her. His face was invisible inside his helmet. “We are a taxi,” he said.
Candace hesitated, then shrugged and mounted the palanquin's steps. A whistle blew. Two players darted into the cross-traffic, slamming cars aside with a crunch and a roar. The taxi, bearing Candace aloft, followed in their wake.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Distress
The door spiraled only halfway open. Tarquin could smell smoke. He grumbled and ducked through, reaching to drag his toolkit after him. The gravity generators were operating erratically. Tarquin overbalanced. He grasped for one of the handgrips to stabilize himself.
The ship groaned and lurched. Tarquin fell to the floor with a grunt. There was a sudden, muffled cry from nearby. Tarquin stumbled to his feet. He shoved a prybar into the hatch of the supply closet. The door burst open, revealing a small Colony girl rubbing a bruised leg.
Tarquin sighed. “This just got a lot more complicated.”
The ship groaned and lurched. Tarquin fell to the floor with a grunt. There was a sudden, muffled cry from nearby. Tarquin stumbled to his feet. He shoved a prybar into the hatch of the supply closet. The door burst open, revealing a small Colony girl rubbing a bruised leg.
Tarquin sighed. “This just got a lot more complicated.”
Monday, June 22, 2009
Fire Eater
There is a bloom of light in the darkness. I can see it through the trees. A fire. I like fires. They’re not as good as electricity, but they’re easier to find out here.
The trees hum past as I travel. Long, slow rhythms, barely any movement at all. I’d starve on a tree diet, even if I did nothing but eat.
They scream when I arrive. It annoys me. I eat one for form’s sake. Tasty little tidbits wrapped up in oversized, meaty bags. Hardly worth the effort, but nice as a light snack. At least they brought dinner.
The trees hum past as I travel. Long, slow rhythms, barely any movement at all. I’d starve on a tree diet, even if I did nothing but eat.
They scream when I arrive. It annoys me. I eat one for form’s sake. Tasty little tidbits wrapped up in oversized, meaty bags. Hardly worth the effort, but nice as a light snack. At least they brought dinner.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Remembrance
One morning, Daryl realized that he was remembering lies. There was his childhood home, yes, his mother, his school, his toy dinosaurs, his first job, Kristen, first kiss, braces tangled, love, anger, hate, loss. But there was someone there who didn’t belong.
He was tall and sallow, a grim-faced man better suited to a B-grade horror flick. He was lurking in the closet, tasting Mom’s soup, contemplating a plastic brachiosaurus, perched on a see-saw.
“So you’ve found me,” Daryl remembered the tall man say. “Well, the past isn’t the only place to hide. Eyes front, Daryl. I’ll be waiting tomorrow.”
He was tall and sallow, a grim-faced man better suited to a B-grade horror flick. He was lurking in the closet, tasting Mom’s soup, contemplating a plastic brachiosaurus, perched on a see-saw.
“So you’ve found me,” Daryl remembered the tall man say. “Well, the past isn’t the only place to hide. Eyes front, Daryl. I’ll be waiting tomorrow.”
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Universal Organizer
“It’s not that I don’t enjoy my universe,” said Borsin. “It’s just… well, the storage question.”
“Yes,” said TR719, rotating smartly about and whirring away down the aisles. “Infinite space can be challenging. Hard to clean, too.”
“We don’t want to get rid of it, though.” Borsin trailed after.
“Naturally not,” the robot responded. “Many bioforms grow very attached to their possessions. It is merely an artifact of your simian brain. I am familiar with many such defects. You require a universal organizer.”
“And everything will fit inside?”
“There are many sizes of infinity, sir. One for every household need.”
“Yes,” said TR719, rotating smartly about and whirring away down the aisles. “Infinite space can be challenging. Hard to clean, too.”
“We don’t want to get rid of it, though.” Borsin trailed after.
“Naturally not,” the robot responded. “Many bioforms grow very attached to their possessions. It is merely an artifact of your simian brain. I am familiar with many such defects. You require a universal organizer.”
“And everything will fit inside?”
“There are many sizes of infinity, sir. One for every household need.”
Friday, June 19, 2009
Miracles
She was looking for a light bulb for the closet when she found the message from God. She ran to show Bill.
“I found an angel,” she told him.
“It’s a paperclip, Denise,” said Bill.
“It can be both,” Denise said, not wanting to fight about it.
There were other miracles all week. The pickle jar, for instance. And the cat hair. Bill grumbled about chores not getting done, but Denise couldn’t disobey divine inspiration. Things didn’t come to a head until Thursday, when she defrosted the freezer. It was only reasonable that if angels could visit, so could demons…
“I found an angel,” she told him.
“It’s a paperclip, Denise,” said Bill.
“It can be both,” Denise said, not wanting to fight about it.
There were other miracles all week. The pickle jar, for instance. And the cat hair. Bill grumbled about chores not getting done, but Denise couldn’t disobey divine inspiration. Things didn’t come to a head until Thursday, when she defrosted the freezer. It was only reasonable that if angels could visit, so could demons…
And Death His Companion
He walked down the street with his death behind him, footsteps just a beat behind his own. He paused at the corner. Busy street; could be dangerous. He glanced at his death. The cowled head shook slowly. Not now. Not yet time.
Why would it tell the truth? he wondered. But the habit was ingrained by now. He stepped out cautiously when the light turned.
“Oh, isn’t that sad,” said an old lady, pointing. A young child walked behind his mother, his death close on his heels. Even the old woman’s was half-step behind her. “Such a shame,” she clucked.
Why would it tell the truth? he wondered. But the habit was ingrained by now. He stepped out cautiously when the light turned.
“Oh, isn’t that sad,” said an old lady, pointing. A young child walked behind his mother, his death close on his heels. Even the old woman’s was half-step behind her. “Such a shame,” she clucked.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Ourobouros
The marvelous thing, the really marvelous thing, was that it worked. At a cost, of course, but everything has a cost. Progress marches, can’t make an omelet, etc.
The situation would normally be untenable, of course. What human innovation could fathom such a degree of interconnectedness? How could anything survive looped in on itself in that fashion? The trains were first. Then the roads, the glorious American highways. A few sacrifices were made. This is the nature of such things.
To encircle the globe, to knit everything together, who else but him, his shimmering asphalt scales glinting new and shimmering?
The situation would normally be untenable, of course. What human innovation could fathom such a degree of interconnectedness? How could anything survive looped in on itself in that fashion? The trains were first. Then the roads, the glorious American highways. A few sacrifices were made. This is the nature of such things.
To encircle the globe, to knit everything together, who else but him, his shimmering asphalt scales glinting new and shimmering?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Fo Fum
The wedge of cheese had been left out. The knife lay beside it.
“Stay here,” Maria told Miguel. They were crouched behind the towering jug of apple juice. “We’re getting out of here.”
She glanced around, then darted out. The table, the size of a football field, seemed hideously open and exposed, but she reached the cutting board without incident, hefting the knife like a spear. It was heavy and sharp; it should be able to free Carlos before the giant checked the traps.
Maria froze. The door swung open; the giant had returned. Its enormous nose twitched angrily. “SQUEAK?”
“Stay here,” Maria told Miguel. They were crouched behind the towering jug of apple juice. “We’re getting out of here.”
She glanced around, then darted out. The table, the size of a football field, seemed hideously open and exposed, but she reached the cutting board without incident, hefting the knife like a spear. It was heavy and sharp; it should be able to free Carlos before the giant checked the traps.
Maria froze. The door swung open; the giant had returned. Its enormous nose twitched angrily. “SQUEAK?”
Monday, June 15, 2009
Let Me In
scritch-scritch
Cedric remained as still as he could. His instincts wanted him to sit bolt upright, but he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes closed.
scraaaaape
He was a grown man. There was no reason to be afraid. It was a tree branch.
scrabble-scrabble
Or maybe a stray dog. Regardless, he would ignore it. He fought the urge to tug the blankets over his head.
The night passed slowly, agonizingly. It wasn’t until morning that he allowed himself to sit up and look to the door. The door, and the scratches gouged deep in its surface.
On the inside.
Cedric remained as still as he could. His instincts wanted him to sit bolt upright, but he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes closed.
scraaaaape
He was a grown man. There was no reason to be afraid. It was a tree branch.
scrabble-scrabble
Or maybe a stray dog. Regardless, he would ignore it. He fought the urge to tug the blankets over his head.
The night passed slowly, agonizingly. It wasn’t until morning that he allowed himself to sit up and look to the door. The door, and the scratches gouged deep in its surface.
On the inside.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Island-Walker
Trip shimmied down the tree. “I definitely see land!” he called, skidding on the thin soil of Bodoka’s back. “We’ll be there in another day or two, if you can keep up the speed,” he went on.
Bodoka rumbled, raising her head to look at Trip with one enormous eye. Her flippers threshed the water in a constant rhythm on either side of her shell. Trip carefully climbed down the slope and rested at the lip, resting his hand on Bodoka’s leathery neck. “We will find your eggs,” he told her. “And then we will return to the open sea.”
Bodoka rumbled, raising her head to look at Trip with one enormous eye. Her flippers threshed the water in a constant rhythm on either side of her shell. Trip carefully climbed down the slope and rested at the lip, resting his hand on Bodoka’s leathery neck. “We will find your eggs,” he told her. “And then we will return to the open sea.”
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Justice
Soul-Reaper flashed dangerously, pulsing with dark energies. Se-Rok-La, the Blade That Thirsts, was a shimmering light in the young hero’s hands.
“The Ebontower is fallen,” the hero announced.
“Because of you,” hissed the Shadowlord. “You will pay for this!”
“I only return to you the destruction you brought to us!” answered the boy.
“That was justice! Your city refused me aid when I was starving, sent me to exile.”
“They remember the tyranny of the Spirit-Dwellers!”
“I will have what is mine!”
“I will have mine as well!”
All around them, the rubble of both tower and town were strewn.
“The Ebontower is fallen,” the hero announced.
“Because of you,” hissed the Shadowlord. “You will pay for this!”
“I only return to you the destruction you brought to us!” answered the boy.
“That was justice! Your city refused me aid when I was starving, sent me to exile.”
“They remember the tyranny of the Spirit-Dwellers!”
“I will have what is mine!”
“I will have mine as well!”
All around them, the rubble of both tower and town were strewn.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Necromancy, LTD
“Should start any minute now,” Mrs. Lowry said. Even as she spoke, the lights flickered and went out. A ghostly face appeared, then two more. A bearded man and two elaborately-coiffed women climbed into an ancient automobile, all faintly translucent. They motored away through the wall in eerie silence.
“Well, that’s certainly paranormal,” said Sturgot. “Standard containment and removal fees would-“
“They’re not the problem,” Mrs. Lowry snapped.
A moment later, a spectral hound, all rotting flesh and hideous fangs, burst through the far wall, trailing ectoplasm across the floor. It barked furiously as it pursued the disappearing Model T.
“Well, that’s certainly paranormal,” said Sturgot. “Standard containment and removal fees would-“
“They’re not the problem,” Mrs. Lowry snapped.
A moment later, a spectral hound, all rotting flesh and hideous fangs, burst through the far wall, trailing ectoplasm across the floor. It barked furiously as it pursued the disappearing Model T.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Things They Loved
“Here you are, Miss Jensen,” said Lisa, handing over her change. Chuck had already bagged her groceries. She smiled at both of them as she collected her parcels and strolled out the door.
“I love her perfume,” Lisa commented. “Like lavender.”
Chuck gave Lisa a confused look. “She’s always smelled like chocolate to me. Hot cocoa.”
Trudy turned around from the next register over. “Miss Jensen?” she said. “She smells like new leather, fresh from a tack store.”
They blinked at one another and turned as one to watch the slender form walking away on the side of the highway.
“I love her perfume,” Lisa commented. “Like lavender.”
Chuck gave Lisa a confused look. “She’s always smelled like chocolate to me. Hot cocoa.”
Trudy turned around from the next register over. “Miss Jensen?” she said. “She smells like new leather, fresh from a tack store.”
They blinked at one another and turned as one to watch the slender form walking away on the side of the highway.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The Magic of Writing
"Try another one!"
"Okay, um," John hesitated, the pencil hovering over the paper. He wrote a sentence laboriously. "'I... have... ten... Snickers.'"
With a rush of air, a pile of candy bars materialized on the table beside them.
"This is so awesome! We need some money, too!" Barry bounced with excitement.
"Right. Um... 'Give... me... one... million-'" John muttered, scraping the words into the paper.
"Us! Give us a million bucks!"
"Oh, yeah." John spun the pencil around and rubbed away at the 'me.'
"No, make it two million... John?" Barry glanced around.
John was nowhere to be seen.
"Okay, um," John hesitated, the pencil hovering over the paper. He wrote a sentence laboriously. "'I... have... ten... Snickers.'"
With a rush of air, a pile of candy bars materialized on the table beside them.
"This is so awesome! We need some money, too!" Barry bounced with excitement.
"Right. Um... 'Give... me... one... million-'" John muttered, scraping the words into the paper.
"Us! Give us a million bucks!"
"Oh, yeah." John spun the pencil around and rubbed away at the 'me.'
"No, make it two million... John?" Barry glanced around.
John was nowhere to be seen.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Interrogation
The candlelight reflected from her face, looking younger somehow. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said. “Not my fault.”
“I understand, ma’am,” said Detective Morris. “All I need are a few small details. Remember those for me and you can rest.”
“It was him, not me. Not my fault. He planned it. He killed them, not me.”
“She’s in a loop,” said Trenton.
Morris frowned. “We need a stronger connection. Her body isn’t enough; she hated it anyway.” He blew out the candle. The old woman’s spirit flickered out with the light, leaving the two policemen alone in the morgue again.
“I understand, ma’am,” said Detective Morris. “All I need are a few small details. Remember those for me and you can rest.”
“It was him, not me. Not my fault. He planned it. He killed them, not me.”
“She’s in a loop,” said Trenton.
Morris frowned. “We need a stronger connection. Her body isn’t enough; she hated it anyway.” He blew out the candle. The old woman’s spirit flickered out with the light, leaving the two policemen alone in the morgue again.
Event Horizon
He wasn’t sure when it began. He noticed it in the fall, when shadows started to fade with the sun. His didn’t. Instead, it grew darker, fuller, more luxuriant. Everywhere he went, his surroundings grew brighter while his shadow swelled, gulping darkness like wine.
The contrast sharpened as the days went on, the landscape fading to a pallid, washed-out whiteness while he and his shadow became ever more indistinct. His touch left objects shimmering with a luminescence he could never possess. The world attenuated, stretching upward toward sublimation. He remained behind, a dark blot in a pit he’d dug himself.
The contrast sharpened as the days went on, the landscape fading to a pallid, washed-out whiteness while he and his shadow became ever more indistinct. His touch left objects shimmering with a luminescence he could never possess. The world attenuated, stretching upward toward sublimation. He remained behind, a dark blot in a pit he’d dug himself.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
And It Rattles, Too
The house rumbled as the air cut on, a deep growl. “I think the thermostat is broken,” said Wendy. “It’s always either too hot or too cold.”
“I’ll have someone out to look at it.” Reginald muttered, buttering his toast.
Neither of them paid attention as Jimmy slipped away from the table and into the basement. Down where the furnace normally pumped hot air into the vents, an enormous, hairy beast crouched. It had its mouth to the pipes and it was breathing furiously, cheeks puffed out comically.
“You might as well stop,” said Jimmy. “They’re calling a repairman anyway.”
“I’ll have someone out to look at it.” Reginald muttered, buttering his toast.
Neither of them paid attention as Jimmy slipped away from the table and into the basement. Down where the furnace normally pumped hot air into the vents, an enormous, hairy beast crouched. It had its mouth to the pipes and it was breathing furiously, cheeks puffed out comically.
“You might as well stop,” said Jimmy. “They’re calling a repairman anyway.”
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Adhesion
The inside of the bus was full. Already there were passengers clinging to the outside. Mr. Johnson had wedged himself in with his hips, leaving his hands free to flip through a magazine as the wind snatched at the pages.
“How’d we manage before, eh, Kevin?” said Mr. Johnson by way of greeting. Kevin adhered only his left leg; easier to disembark that way.
“I’d just like to get to work with combed hair for once,” Kevin grumbled. He slapped his briefcase in place with a wet smack. The cohesion was going. It’d be time for a new one soon.
“How’d we manage before, eh, Kevin?” said Mr. Johnson by way of greeting. Kevin adhered only his left leg; easier to disembark that way.
“I’d just like to get to work with combed hair for once,” Kevin grumbled. He slapped his briefcase in place with a wet smack. The cohesion was going. It’d be time for a new one soon.
Friday, June 5, 2009
In Space
Double-posting to try and get back on a "do it after midnight instead of before" schedule, which works so much more smoothly.
So am I allowed to have in-jokes yet? It's been seven months. I think I'm allowed in-jokes.
---
The great mining ship Redshift drifted on the edges of the asteroid belt. On the bridge, the captain and the first mate were discussing their course.
Outside, there was a flash of light. A red station wagon appeared amid the asteroids, wheels spinning uselessly in the void. A man and a woman were visible through the windshield. They seemed to be arguing. The woman had a map unfolded on her lap. The car drifted across the viewscreen, then disappeared in another white flash.
The captain spoke first. “I didn’t see it if you didn’t.”
The first mate nodded in agreement.
So am I allowed to have in-jokes yet? It's been seven months. I think I'm allowed in-jokes.
---
The great mining ship Redshift drifted on the edges of the asteroid belt. On the bridge, the captain and the first mate were discussing their course.
Outside, there was a flash of light. A red station wagon appeared amid the asteroids, wheels spinning uselessly in the void. A man and a woman were visible through the windshield. They seemed to be arguing. The woman had a map unfolded on her lap. The car drifted across the viewscreen, then disappeared in another white flash.
The captain spoke first. “I didn’t see it if you didn’t.”
The first mate nodded in agreement.
The Escape
The boat wallowed in the center of the river, riding low due to Eston’s weight. He held a fishing rod in one massive paw, the end trailing in the water. The sky was dark; behind them, the city burned. Even the flames looked dirty. The orange glow was reflected on the river’s surface.
“Never you mind,” Briod scolded. He patted Eston’s rocky leg in a comforting manner. “We’ll get it back, somehow.”
Eston turned lidless eyes on his human companion. He nodded, once, and then raised his head in the Howl, mourning their loss after the manner of his kind.
“Never you mind,” Briod scolded. He patted Eston’s rocky leg in a comforting manner. “We’ll get it back, somehow.”
Eston turned lidless eyes on his human companion. He nodded, once, and then raised his head in the Howl, mourning their loss after the manner of his kind.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Becca
“But I have to!”
“Becca, sweetie, you can play later.”
“It’s important, Mommy!”
Mom shook her head. “Real life is important, Becca. Your dolls can wait.”
“She’s bleeding!”
Mom knelt. “It’s just a loose stitch. I’ll patch it when we get home.”
“What if God forgot to fix me up and just left me there, like she is?” Becca pouted.
“I’d patch you up, too,” said Mom, lifting Becca. “Whoof! You’re getting heavy. I see you scraped your knee, too.”
“Only a little. My doll is worse.”
“Well, let’s get you fixed,” said Mom. She carried Becca away, trailing sawdust.
“Becca, sweetie, you can play later.”
“It’s important, Mommy!”
Mom shook her head. “Real life is important, Becca. Your dolls can wait.”
“She’s bleeding!”
Mom knelt. “It’s just a loose stitch. I’ll patch it when we get home.”
“What if God forgot to fix me up and just left me there, like she is?” Becca pouted.
“I’d patch you up, too,” said Mom, lifting Becca. “Whoof! You’re getting heavy. I see you scraped your knee, too.”
“Only a little. My doll is worse.”
“Well, let’s get you fixed,” said Mom. She carried Becca away, trailing sawdust.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Here Be Doodles
“Okay, which way now?”
Shannon unfolded the map, filling her side of the car with rustling paper. “I, um… hmm.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell. Someone’s drawn all over it. Look.” She held out the map and pointed.
A dark blot filled that corner of the state. It was a child’s rendition of a scary monster, with stark triangular teeth, great bubbly eyeballs, and scribbled hair pointing every which way. Scrawled across the upper half of Georgia was a jagged word: BEWARE.
“Well, that’s weird,” said Dan, signaling for the exit ramp.
Ahead of them, the terrible, luminous eyes slowly opened.
Shannon unfolded the map, filling her side of the car with rustling paper. “I, um… hmm.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell. Someone’s drawn all over it. Look.” She held out the map and pointed.
A dark blot filled that corner of the state. It was a child’s rendition of a scary monster, with stark triangular teeth, great bubbly eyeballs, and scribbled hair pointing every which way. Scrawled across the upper half of Georgia was a jagged word: BEWARE.
“Well, that’s weird,” said Dan, signaling for the exit ramp.
Ahead of them, the terrible, luminous eyes slowly opened.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Illusion of Solidity
“We are trapped,” said Taku. He laid a hand on the wall.
“Not so,” said the Wisest Stone. “The hardness of rock is only an illusion. Once we were as soft as clouds, but we grew tired of being constantly penetrated and violated, and so we adapted an inflexible attitude in order to better preserve our preferred shape. Still, it is only an attitude, and not fact.”
Taku frowned skeptically, but his friend was often proven right in the end. Taku walked with confidence towards the wall. He banged his nose.
“It is a good illusion,” the Wisest Stone admitted.
“Not so,” said the Wisest Stone. “The hardness of rock is only an illusion. Once we were as soft as clouds, but we grew tired of being constantly penetrated and violated, and so we adapted an inflexible attitude in order to better preserve our preferred shape. Still, it is only an attitude, and not fact.”
Taku frowned skeptically, but his friend was often proven right in the end. Taku walked with confidence towards the wall. He banged his nose.
“It is a good illusion,” the Wisest Stone admitted.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Bird Watcher
“Shh! Listen!”
Hank waited obediently. The sounds of the forest echoed in the gathering twilight. “I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“The woodpecker,” said Jeb, his face intent.
“Oh,” said Hank. “You take up bird-watching?”
“Remember what happened at the site today?” said Jeb, seemingly changing the subject.
Hank gave Jeb a strange look. “Of course. Mechanical failure. Two days with no work, which sucks.”
Jeb snatched up his notebook and began scribbling. “There’s going to be more failures. Soon.”
“How do you know?”
Jeb held up the page, where he had transcribed a series of letters. “It’s Morse Code.”
Hank waited obediently. The sounds of the forest echoed in the gathering twilight. “I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“The woodpecker,” said Jeb, his face intent.
“Oh,” said Hank. “You take up bird-watching?”
“Remember what happened at the site today?” said Jeb, seemingly changing the subject.
Hank gave Jeb a strange look. “Of course. Mechanical failure. Two days with no work, which sucks.”
Jeb snatched up his notebook and began scribbling. “There’s going to be more failures. Soon.”
“How do you know?”
Jeb held up the page, where he had transcribed a series of letters. “It’s Morse Code.”
Ragnarok
He’d ignored the signs. He was putting that part of his life behind him. Away with mysticism. Away with supernatural rubbish. No more kowtowing in the name of an archaic and misbegotten faith.
And so he’d paid no attention. The roosters had crowed three times; he set his alarm clock earlier so they didn’t awaken him. The hound cried in the woods; he installed a fence. News of hurricanes and earthquakes in far-off countries were easily ignored.
Thus, he was unprepared when he looked up at the night sky and saw the moon disappearing slowly into the vast, fanged maw…
And so he’d paid no attention. The roosters had crowed three times; he set his alarm clock earlier so they didn’t awaken him. The hound cried in the woods; he installed a fence. News of hurricanes and earthquakes in far-off countries were easily ignored.
Thus, he was unprepared when he looked up at the night sky and saw the moon disappearing slowly into the vast, fanged maw…
Friday, May 29, 2009
Storm
There was a flash and a distant rumble. “Get down,” Maron hissed, tugging at Alec’s shirttail.
“What’s happening?”
“Just get away from the window,” Maron said.
Lightning flashed. The tree on the corner burst into flames. There was a roaring from overhead, like a jet-liner landing. Alec sobbed with fear.
“It’s okay,” Maron said. “As long as we stay quiet. It won’t last long.”
An enormous sandal-clad foot crushed a car on the street outside. Thunder rolled as the bearded figure drew another lightning bolt from the quiver on his back.
“I hate when Mom and Dad fight,” Alec whispered.
“What’s happening?”
“Just get away from the window,” Maron said.
Lightning flashed. The tree on the corner burst into flames. There was a roaring from overhead, like a jet-liner landing. Alec sobbed with fear.
“It’s okay,” Maron said. “As long as we stay quiet. It won’t last long.”
An enormous sandal-clad foot crushed a car on the street outside. Thunder rolled as the bearded figure drew another lightning bolt from the quiver on his back.
“I hate when Mom and Dad fight,” Alec whispered.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Every Child Needs One
Steve held the box in his hands. “Hours of fun!” it promised. The doll grinned up at him from behind its cellophane window.
A scruffy man in a ragged coat sidled up and began shoveling the pink boxes into a shopping cart. He stared at Steve. “You gonna buy that one?” he asked.
Steve edged away. “I was thinking about it for my niece. ‘Hours of fun,’ and all.”
The man laughed humorlessly. “Truth in advertising! A few hours of joy. It doesn’t last. And when it stops…” Tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s worse than anything,” he whispered.
A scruffy man in a ragged coat sidled up and began shoveling the pink boxes into a shopping cart. He stared at Steve. “You gonna buy that one?” he asked.
Steve edged away. “I was thinking about it for my niece. ‘Hours of fun,’ and all.”
The man laughed humorlessly. “Truth in advertising! A few hours of joy. It doesn’t last. And when it stops…” Tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s worse than anything,” he whispered.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Rain, Rain
Wherever he went, it rained. It became somewhat incongruous when all around him the city was lit in bright sunlight while he slouched along in his own personal gloom. His hair was always soaked. His shoes squished when he walked. Even inside a building, the light dimmed as the cloud waited outside like a lost puppy.
The girl at the counter placed his burger platter in front of him. “Was she beautiful?” she asked.
He looked at her in startlement. “She is beautiful,” he said, pointing to the delicate raindrops that traced his name down the outside of the window.
The girl at the counter placed his burger platter in front of him. “Was she beautiful?” she asked.
He looked at her in startlement. “She is beautiful,” he said, pointing to the delicate raindrops that traced his name down the outside of the window.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunrise by the Crossroads
Jerry and Sam, in their orange reflective jackets, were establishing the perimeter, sprinkling scented oil from their paper coffee cups. Their chant could be heard over the crackle of the radio and the rush of traffic. “…the painted lines, the rules confine…”
“We shouldn’t even have to refresh the hex yet,” Carlie griped. “Last month’s spell would’ve held fine against normal traffic.”
“Lotsa powerful spirits bound to cars these days.”
“Fuckin’ Ford,” said the foreman. “Everyone knows bull demons are hard as hell to keep under control, but they just had to have the biggest, studliest cars on the market.”
“We shouldn’t even have to refresh the hex yet,” Carlie griped. “Last month’s spell would’ve held fine against normal traffic.”
“Lotsa powerful spirits bound to cars these days.”
“Fuckin’ Ford,” said the foreman. “Everyone knows bull demons are hard as hell to keep under control, but they just had to have the biggest, studliest cars on the market.”
Monday, May 25, 2009
And Likewise an End
“Every story has a beginning,” he said. The farm was humble, from the tumbledown shack to the tottering barn. A handful of chickens, two bone-thin pigs, and an elderly cow were all the livestock that graced its grounds. He grimaced. It was time to get to work.
“Every…” he muttered, slopping the pigs. “…story…” he sighed, milking the cow. “…has a beginning,” he growled, gathering the meager eggs.
He waited for many years. The farm limped on, never prospering. He looked out on the barren fields and tugged at his white beard, wondering when his beginning would ever find him.
“Every…” he muttered, slopping the pigs. “…story…” he sighed, milking the cow. “…has a beginning,” he growled, gathering the meager eggs.
He waited for many years. The farm limped on, never prospering. He looked out on the barren fields and tugged at his white beard, wondering when his beginning would ever find him.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Creatures of Night, Brought to Light
“What's this one?”
“The pride of our collection, ma'am! Read that plaque.”
“Vam-pire?”
“Yes, indeed! The dark prince of the night! The scourge of mankind! The bloodsucking fiend who haunts your nightmares!”
The vampire pulled a sour expression, sitting on his high-backed chair.
“Back, nightmare! Avaunt!” cried the zookeeper, drawing his stun-gun. “You shall not harm these innocent people!”
“You're being melodramatic, Derrick,” sighed the vampire.
Derrick smiled cruelly. “The people paid for a show, Count. I think you've got a stake in this.”
The vampire's lip curled. “I hate you.”
“The pride of our collection, ma'am! Read that plaque.”
“Vam-pire?”
“Yes, indeed! The dark prince of the night! The scourge of mankind! The bloodsucking fiend who haunts your nightmares!”
The vampire pulled a sour expression, sitting on his high-backed chair.
“Back, nightmare! Avaunt!” cried the zookeeper, drawing his stun-gun. “You shall not harm these innocent people!”
“You're being melodramatic, Derrick,” sighed the vampire.
Derrick smiled cruelly. “The people paid for a show, Count. I think you've got a stake in this.”
The vampire's lip curled. “I hate you.”
Saturday, May 23, 2009
A New Lifestyle
There was a susurration of wings and an irritated cooing as the flock rippled into the air. They settled back a few feet away and resumed pecking at the ground. Three of the larger pigeons had claimed half of a bagel from a nearby garbage can and guarded it zealously.
“Hey,” said a brown pigeon.
“Howdy,” said the newcomer, a common gray.
“So why'd you bring the human?”
“Oh, him?” The pigeon looked over his shoulder. “He's a new guy. I'm showing him the ropes.”
The man waved. “I've got nowhere else to go.”
“Hey,” said a brown pigeon.
“Howdy,” said the newcomer, a common gray.
“So why'd you bring the human?”
“Oh, him?” The pigeon looked over his shoulder. “He's a new guy. I'm showing him the ropes.”
The man waved. “I've got nowhere else to go.”
Raventongue
He captured a raven, which pleased him. Ravens were wise and knew many secrets. He split the creature's tongue to give it the power of speech. Then he waited for it to gain its voice. It never spoke.
He tried pleading. He offered it gifts. He cursed and threatened. Nothing worked.
He neared the end of his life. The sullen bird ruffled its feathers as he lay dying. It cleared its throat. Weak as he was, he lifted himself up to hear the words of the raven.
The raven met his eager gaze. “Asshole,” it said as he died.
He tried pleading. He offered it gifts. He cursed and threatened. Nothing worked.
He neared the end of his life. The sullen bird ruffled its feathers as he lay dying. It cleared its throat. Weak as he was, he lifted himself up to hear the words of the raven.
The raven met his eager gaze. “Asshole,” it said as he died.
Lunacy
Wow. So I was traveling for longer than I thought, and when I checked, I hadn't actually updated for Thursday, either. Mea culpa! I will fix this immediately.
---
“What's that noise?” Frank the orderly pulled open the viewing slot. “And where did you get that jacket?”
The inmate blinked wide blue eyes. “It was my uncle's, before he died.”
“That's not what I meant,” Frank snapped. “How did you get in here?”
“I show them the truth,” said the inmate sadly, “but they never understand.” He glanced up. “Perhaps I could show you?”
Frank shook his head, but it was too late. When they found him, he was babbling softly to himself, wearing a leather jacket over his white uniform.
---
“What's that noise?” Frank the orderly pulled open the viewing slot. “And where did you get that jacket?”
The inmate blinked wide blue eyes. “It was my uncle's, before he died.”
“That's not what I meant,” Frank snapped. “How did you get in here?”
“I show them the truth,” said the inmate sadly, “but they never understand.” He glanced up. “Perhaps I could show you?”
Frank shook his head, but it was too late. When they found him, he was babbling softly to himself, wearing a leather jacket over his white uniform.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Night
She turned on every lamp in the house, flooding the rooms with light. Only the basement was left unlit. She cracked the door, allowing light to trickle down the stairs and pool at the bottom. Her hand fumbled for the light switch.
A hand grasped her wrist. She cried out and pulled away; the dark man pulled her close to the shadowed gap.
“Do you know why you run?” he hissed. “You do not fear the unknown. That is for children. You run because, somewhere inside, you know what we do out there, in the dark, to keep you safe.”
A hand grasped her wrist. She cried out and pulled away; the dark man pulled her close to the shadowed gap.
“Do you know why you run?” he hissed. “You do not fear the unknown. That is for children. You run because, somewhere inside, you know what we do out there, in the dark, to keep you safe.”
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Wolves
I have not tracked an animal in many years. The alley stinks of piss and car exhaust. It was here, according to the newspapers. An animal attack, they wrote. I know better. Our tales tell of them, the Shadows-at-Night, the Wolves-Who-Walk-Like-Men. I have spent my life hunting and slaying them.
“Old man!”
A half-dozen youths surround me. I begin to speak, to tell them I have no money, when I see the glint of their yellow eyes.
And I know. The wolves who walk like men are not the true enemy. Not compared to men who think they are wolves.
“Old man!”
A half-dozen youths surround me. I begin to speak, to tell them I have no money, when I see the glint of their yellow eyes.
And I know. The wolves who walk like men are not the true enemy. Not compared to men who think they are wolves.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Currents
The lord sat by the pond beneath the cherry tree. The offending servant was brought before him. He, too, trembled.
“Do you see the water?” said the lord.
The servant nodded.
“It is still, yet it moves. The currents are not visible to your eyes. If you were a fish, you would know them, here, in your heart.”
“I have not the eyes of a god, Lord.”
“I will give you a gift,” said the lord. He gestured. There was a soft sigh. “I hope,” he told the new fish in the pond, “you will learn to see more clearly.”
“Do you see the water?” said the lord.
The servant nodded.
“It is still, yet it moves. The currents are not visible to your eyes. If you were a fish, you would know them, here, in your heart.”
“I have not the eyes of a god, Lord.”
“I will give you a gift,” said the lord. He gestured. There was a soft sigh. “I hope,” he told the new fish in the pond, “you will learn to see more clearly.”
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Masks
The mask itched abominably. He hated wearing it. He could barely remember what it was like before the mask, before he saw its hateful image in every mirror and storefront window. He remembered his own face, though. He’d never forget that. He’d promised himself.
One day, he took the mask off. He stared at it; empty eyes, half-smile, pallid coloring. He walked to the hall mirror, trembling eagerly.
His face was a pale white circle, locked in a half-smile. He glanced down. In his hands, he held his face, his old familiar face.
“What did you expect?” sneered the mask.
One day, he took the mask off. He stared at it; empty eyes, half-smile, pallid coloring. He walked to the hall mirror, trembling eagerly.
His face was a pale white circle, locked in a half-smile. He glanced down. In his hands, he held his face, his old familiar face.
“What did you expect?” sneered the mask.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Fast and the Ferrous
“Quite a machine I’ve paid for,” Professor Cuthbert said. He adjusted the automatic fargoggles. “Just look at that dust cloud.”
“The only way Alberforth’s pile of scrap will best the Megaton Whirlwind is if a piece of moon-cheese breaks off, tumbles to Earth, and crushes poor Gupti in his driving harness.” Dartelby adjusted his monocle. Unlike the Professor’s bulky goggles, the Electro-Monocle’s magnification lenses were built in, lending the whole a stylish minimalism which almost made up for its lack of functionality.
“Balderdash,” sniffed the Professor. “The moon colony fixed that crumbling problem years ago. Turned out to be mice.”
“The only way Alberforth’s pile of scrap will best the Megaton Whirlwind is if a piece of moon-cheese breaks off, tumbles to Earth, and crushes poor Gupti in his driving harness.” Dartelby adjusted his monocle. Unlike the Professor’s bulky goggles, the Electro-Monocle’s magnification lenses were built in, lending the whole a stylish minimalism which almost made up for its lack of functionality.
“Balderdash,” sniffed the Professor. “The moon colony fixed that crumbling problem years ago. Turned out to be mice.”
Friday, May 15, 2009
What Happens During Vacations?
Rich slapped his forehead. “Wait, I almost forgot to confuse the centipede.”
“Do what now?”
He opened the cellar door. The entirety of the basement was filled with it. The writhing, segmented body looped around itself countless times, an infinity of slender legs rippling as the tangled mass churned. Rich grabbed a basketball from the bin. He aimed and threw. The coils surged in response.
“The head goes after motion,” Rich explained. “I try to put three knots or so in it before leaving every morning. Not sure what it is, but I think it’s better if it keeps busy.”
“Do what now?”
He opened the cellar door. The entirety of the basement was filled with it. The writhing, segmented body looped around itself countless times, an infinity of slender legs rippling as the tangled mass churned. Rich grabbed a basketball from the bin. He aimed and threw. The coils surged in response.
“The head goes after motion,” Rich explained. “I try to put three knots or so in it before leaving every morning. Not sure what it is, but I think it’s better if it keeps busy.”
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Papercraft War
“Messy business,” sighed Officer Redcomb. He finished his folded paper bird with a flourish and tossed it into the air. It flew away, taking his report to Dispatch.
“Who could fold something like that?” asked Lowry. He gestured at the red-stained paper hilt, still quivering in the corpse’s chest. “I thought the patterns were banned.”
“It’s the Dijh-Atahls,” Redcomb growled. “Paperless bastards, flooding the market with weapon schematics. The Thousand Cuts is too good for ‘em, I say.”
Overhead, the paper claxon began to buzz.
“Air Raid!” cried Lowry. They dove for the shelter as the tri-fold planes swarmed overhead…
“Who could fold something like that?” asked Lowry. He gestured at the red-stained paper hilt, still quivering in the corpse’s chest. “I thought the patterns were banned.”
“It’s the Dijh-Atahls,” Redcomb growled. “Paperless bastards, flooding the market with weapon schematics. The Thousand Cuts is too good for ‘em, I say.”
Overhead, the paper claxon began to buzz.
“Air Raid!” cried Lowry. They dove for the shelter as the tri-fold planes swarmed overhead…
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Frog and the Scorpion
“There is no other way through the asteroid field,” Scorpio radioed.
Batrach thumbed the comm-switch. “Fine. Dock with us and we’ll play escort. But if your weapon ports so much as twitch, we’re spacing you.”
They were halfway through, the hardened shell repelling a dozen strikes every second, when an alert went off from the docking bay. A full-stream protonic pulse had been deflected. Batrach slammed the comm-switch. “Gotcha, maniac! We know about your Stinger Beam, Scorpio. We had special shielding installed just for it.”
“I see,” said Scorpio. “Then you leave me no choice,” he said, activating the self-destruct.
Batrach thumbed the comm-switch. “Fine. Dock with us and we’ll play escort. But if your weapon ports so much as twitch, we’re spacing you.”
They were halfway through, the hardened shell repelling a dozen strikes every second, when an alert went off from the docking bay. A full-stream protonic pulse had been deflected. Batrach slammed the comm-switch. “Gotcha, maniac! We know about your Stinger Beam, Scorpio. We had special shielding installed just for it.”
“I see,” said Scorpio. “Then you leave me no choice,” he said, activating the self-destruct.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Prayers Rising Like Smoke
“What’s that?” Sammy pointed to the small pile of rocks atop the culvert.
“It’s to keep the water from flowing in the wrong places,” Mom told him. She chivvied him along. “We’ve still got to get washed up.”
Sammy knew an altar when he saw one. It looked just like the one in the illustrated children’s Bible. He veered close to the tunnel as they passed. Yes, there were black marks on the top, where the offering was burnt. And strange lines, like someone had dragged a handful of knives through the soot. Claws?
Something splashed in the watery darkness.
“It’s to keep the water from flowing in the wrong places,” Mom told him. She chivvied him along. “We’ve still got to get washed up.”
Sammy knew an altar when he saw one. It looked just like the one in the illustrated children’s Bible. He veered close to the tunnel as they passed. Yes, there were black marks on the top, where the offering was burnt. And strange lines, like someone had dragged a handful of knives through the soot. Claws?
Something splashed in the watery darkness.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Tangles
The bus ride is always difficult. Today, my choice was between the blob-like woman whose thigh filled the adjacent seat or the rather squirrelly bespectacled man. I decided I’d rather have my own seat.
“It’s important,” the man told me. “To keep the ends. You can’t get a tangle or a knot, long as you keep hold of the ends. I’ve got ‘em. The beginning and the end. No tangles.”
“In your power cables?”
He gave me a startled glance. “No,” he said. “Universe.” He held out his hand, and inside a jar I saw the stars flare and fade…
“It’s important,” the man told me. “To keep the ends. You can’t get a tangle or a knot, long as you keep hold of the ends. I’ve got ‘em. The beginning and the end. No tangles.”
“In your power cables?”
He gave me a startled glance. “No,” he said. “Universe.” He held out his hand, and inside a jar I saw the stars flare and fade…
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Thunderbird
After the gauges went haywire, Kit was almost relieved when the thunderbird flapped into view, lightning sparking from his wings as he landed. At least the bike’s not broken, she thought.
He had been tricked by Coyote, he said, and needed to hide. He was confident the other spirits would realize Coyote’s lies; they always did, eventually. They decided he would crash on Kit’s spare couch in the meantime. Kit smiled as she felt the strong arms around her waist, his feather cloak and beaked hood bundled in the saddlebags; it was going to be an interesting ride after all.
He had been tricked by Coyote, he said, and needed to hide. He was confident the other spirits would realize Coyote’s lies; they always did, eventually. They decided he would crash on Kit’s spare couch in the meantime. Kit smiled as she felt the strong arms around her waist, his feather cloak and beaked hood bundled in the saddlebags; it was going to be an interesting ride after all.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Special
“How does the radio work?”
“It’s right there,” Dan said, gesturing.
Shannon blinked. “There’s like fifty million buttons here. Why’d you have to get so many gizmos?”
“It’s perfectly simple,” Dan snapped. “Besides, this one was actually cheaper.”
“Really?” Shannon investigated the panel and pushed a button. A light came on at her feet.
“Yeah. On special, he said.”
“Can’t you turn it on for me?”
“I’m driving!”
“You don’t know how, do you?” Shannon smirked. She tried another switch. They both cried out as the laser cannon sprouted from beneath the hood and neatly bisected the car beside them.
“It’s right there,” Dan said, gesturing.
Shannon blinked. “There’s like fifty million buttons here. Why’d you have to get so many gizmos?”
“It’s perfectly simple,” Dan snapped. “Besides, this one was actually cheaper.”
“Really?” Shannon investigated the panel and pushed a button. A light came on at her feet.
“Yeah. On special, he said.”
“Can’t you turn it on for me?”
“I’m driving!”
“You don’t know how, do you?” Shannon smirked. She tried another switch. They both cried out as the laser cannon sprouted from beneath the hood and neatly bisected the car beside them.
Friday, May 8, 2009
The Right Tool
“For starters, this wrench has just about had it,” said Clem. He pointed. “Look here at the head; see how it’s all worn away? You got nothing to grip with, you can’t put much torque on it.”
Jerry nodded, trying to appear eager to learn. So far, his apprenticeship had not been what he’d hoped for.
“The right tool for the job,” Clem continued. “That’s what it’s about.”
He opened the boiler room. With a hiss, a massive reptilian form retreated into the shadows.
“All about the right tools,” said Clem. He reached for the scabbard strapped to his back.
Jerry nodded, trying to appear eager to learn. So far, his apprenticeship had not been what he’d hoped for.
“The right tool for the job,” Clem continued. “That’s what it’s about.”
He opened the boiler room. With a hiss, a massive reptilian form retreated into the shadows.
“All about the right tools,” said Clem. He reached for the scabbard strapped to his back.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Occupant
Dear Occupant,
We regret to inform you this house has been selected for the 2006 Murder-Suicide Haunting. As the owner/resident, there are several steps you should take:
1) A reliable local Laundromat. Blood stains are stubborn, especially when washed with more blood.
2) Food storage issues. Items left in the house for longer than two (2) hours will be filled with writhing maggots.
3) Child safety. If you are a parent, use caution when approaching any child staring fixedly at an unusual object, particularly televisions or radios broadcasting static.
Further details are in the accompanying pamphlet, “Multi-Vital Households and You.” Please read thoroughly.
We regret to inform you this house has been selected for the 2006 Murder-Suicide Haunting. As the owner/resident, there are several steps you should take:
1) A reliable local Laundromat. Blood stains are stubborn, especially when washed with more blood.
2) Food storage issues. Items left in the house for longer than two (2) hours will be filled with writhing maggots.
3) Child safety. If you are a parent, use caution when approaching any child staring fixedly at an unusual object, particularly televisions or radios broadcasting static.
Further details are in the accompanying pamphlet, “Multi-Vital Households and You.” Please read thoroughly.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Maintenance
The glittering spires quested for the sun. The workers were already out in force, sanding and grinding. They had special dispensation; anyone else who damaged the crystal would be dealt with in the harshest possible manner.
It was hot work, and they soon paused, sipping from jugs as they dangled in their harnesses. “How much longer, d’you reckon?” asked Syle.
“Three hours,” Foreman Chek estimated.
“Ugh. Trimming toenails.”
“Them’s the toenails of a god,” Chek snapped. “And they ain’t gonna stop growing. Never. Slow and steady, long as the sun shines. Think about that.”
They did, and a silence fell.
It was hot work, and they soon paused, sipping from jugs as they dangled in their harnesses. “How much longer, d’you reckon?” asked Syle.
“Three hours,” Foreman Chek estimated.
“Ugh. Trimming toenails.”
“Them’s the toenails of a god,” Chek snapped. “And they ain’t gonna stop growing. Never. Slow and steady, long as the sun shines. Think about that.”
They did, and a silence fell.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Monsters
At first, it was just glimpses. A flicker in the corner of his eye. A hand that didn’t look right. An eye that changed shape. In the end, the evidence was too overwhelming. He accepted their existence – that part wasn’t really difficult – but deciding what to do about them had been harder.
The small basement room was filled with canine muzzles, razor teeth, slit-pupiled eyes, clawed hands. “Monsters,” he’d said. “I should kill you all.” He’d prepared the means to do so. He hadn’t prepared himself.
“How did you think you recognized us?” she had said. “Like to like, brother.”
The small basement room was filled with canine muzzles, razor teeth, slit-pupiled eyes, clawed hands. “Monsters,” he’d said. “I should kill you all.” He’d prepared the means to do so. He hadn’t prepared himself.
“How did you think you recognized us?” she had said. “Like to like, brother.”
Monday, May 4, 2009
Road Rash
Jeri moaned as she stumped into the kitchen, her leg thumping loudly against the tiled floor. “It really hurts.”
“Well, what did I tell you?” said Joan. “Go to the doctor, I said.” She sniffed and chopped another carrot.
“It was just a little scrape!”
“Well, obviously it got infected, didn’t it?”
Jeri dropped into a chair and leaned over. She rolled up her pant leg and poked at the spot where pale flesh blended with the hard, pebbly black surface that extended beyond. At the toes, she could just see a hint of yellow paint. “Bad infected,” she agreed.
“Well, what did I tell you?” said Joan. “Go to the doctor, I said.” She sniffed and chopped another carrot.
“It was just a little scrape!”
“Well, obviously it got infected, didn’t it?”
Jeri dropped into a chair and leaned over. She rolled up her pant leg and poked at the spot where pale flesh blended with the hard, pebbly black surface that extended beyond. At the toes, she could just see a hint of yellow paint. “Bad infected,” she agreed.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Sitting in a Tree
“This tree is pretty amazing. You come here a lot?”
“More than I’d like,” she sighed.
“Hey, look at the bark here. It looks like a face, doesn’t it?”
“Sure, I guess. Won’t you be late for class?”
“Crap! You’re right.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “See you later.”
“Yes, yes, fine.”
He left, waving.
“Well, I never…” said the tree.
“Oh, come on, Mom!”
“Carrying on like a brazen hussy, right in front of me!”
“It wasn’t like that…”
“The seed has fallen far away, that’s all I know. Disgusting! When I was a dryad-“
“Aw, Mom…”
“More than I’d like,” she sighed.
“Hey, look at the bark here. It looks like a face, doesn’t it?”
“Sure, I guess. Won’t you be late for class?”
“Crap! You’re right.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “See you later.”
“Yes, yes, fine.”
He left, waving.
“Well, I never…” said the tree.
“Oh, come on, Mom!”
“Carrying on like a brazen hussy, right in front of me!”
“It wasn’t like that…”
“The seed has fallen far away, that’s all I know. Disgusting! When I was a dryad-“
“Aw, Mom…”
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Tears
The room was filled with shelves; the shelves with bottles. Row upon row of tiny glass containers, no more than an ounce or two apiece. Benjamin picked one up. It was filled with clear liquid, stoppered tightly. It was labeled, “Wounded Child.”
“Tears,” said Jessica. “Ingredients for my spells.”
“Spells?” gasped Benjamin. “Then you’re-“
“A witch? It’s about time you figured it out. All the years I’ve been using you…”
Benjamin couldn’t stop the tears.
“At last! The Betrayed Swain!” Jessica’s eyes gleamed as she held a bowl beneath his streaming chin. “I owe you more than you realize, lover.”
“Tears,” said Jessica. “Ingredients for my spells.”
“Spells?” gasped Benjamin. “Then you’re-“
“A witch? It’s about time you figured it out. All the years I’ve been using you…”
Benjamin couldn’t stop the tears.
“At last! The Betrayed Swain!” Jessica’s eyes gleamed as she held a bowl beneath his streaming chin. “I owe you more than you realize, lover.”
Friday, May 1, 2009
Patience
It's the start of a new month here at Mirrorshards, and that means it's time for the Wisest Stone to share his insights with us all!
---
“You must learn patience,” said the Wisest Stone. “I will teach you the way of it.”
“Your lessons have always served me well,” said Taku. “I will listen.”
He waited for the Wisest Stone to speak, but no words came. Taku’s feet grew weary, and he squatted. Then his knees grew weary, and he lay upon the ground. The cold winds came, and the rain, and Taku shivered and endured. When the warm season returned and the water dried, Taku spoke: “I understand. Thank you for the lesson, o Wisest Stone.”
“Oh, are you still here?” said the Wisest Stone.
---
“You must learn patience,” said the Wisest Stone. “I will teach you the way of it.”
“Your lessons have always served me well,” said Taku. “I will listen.”
He waited for the Wisest Stone to speak, but no words came. Taku’s feet grew weary, and he squatted. Then his knees grew weary, and he lay upon the ground. The cold winds came, and the rain, and Taku shivered and endured. When the warm season returned and the water dried, Taku spoke: “I understand. Thank you for the lesson, o Wisest Stone.”
“Oh, are you still here?” said the Wisest Stone.
Bonzo and the Boogeyman
Whoopsie! Could have sworn I already posted this, but apparently I didn't. Here it is, then. Pretend it's April 30.
---
They sat in the bedroom. Bonzo rested by the bed, though the bed was gone. The boogeyman crouched in the empty closet, but he kept the door open for companionship.
“Where did they go?” said Bonzo. She was thinner now, her coat shaggy. She ate rats and lizards and bugs.
“Does it matter?” asked the boogeyman. Without the children, he was fading away. Sometimes they closed the closet door and Bonzo barked wildly at it, but it wasn’t the same.
“We could go find them.”
The boogeyman considered this. “We shouldn’t have to,” he said. “They shouldn’t have left us.”
---
They sat in the bedroom. Bonzo rested by the bed, though the bed was gone. The boogeyman crouched in the empty closet, but he kept the door open for companionship.
“Where did they go?” said Bonzo. She was thinner now, her coat shaggy. She ate rats and lizards and bugs.
“Does it matter?” asked the boogeyman. Without the children, he was fading away. Sometimes they closed the closet door and Bonzo barked wildly at it, but it wasn’t the same.
“We could go find them.”
The boogeyman considered this. “We shouldn’t have to,” he said. “They shouldn’t have left us.”
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