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.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
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.”
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
The Tao of F. Castle
“Violence begets violence,” said Lao Tze. He slammed another clip into his gun, dodging a vicious swing from the nameless thug’s machete. Lao Tze kicked the man squarely in the groin and smashed his temples when he doubled over. “What you mete out returns unto you,” Lao Tze admonished him as he fell.
Turning, Lao Tze sprayed the room with bullets. “Powerful men are well-advised not to use violence,” he said. He pulled a grenade pin with his teeth, then lobbed the explosive into the next room. “Nothing grows where an army passes,” he said, crouching and covering his ears.
Turning, Lao Tze sprayed the room with bullets. “Powerful men are well-advised not to use violence,” he said. He pulled a grenade pin with his teeth, then lobbed the explosive into the next room. “Nothing grows where an army passes,” he said, crouching and covering his ears.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Epiphany
Calm and still, he watched. Movement would be deadly, but that was not his concern. He simply had nothing else to do. He watched the crystalline form gently approach its struggling meal. Liquid glass, smooth and gleaming. It settled down to feed. He watched the first faint blush spread through its body, like the pink sky just before dawn. Then darker, and darker still, scarlet, crimson, deepening until the skittering legs were all that could be seen in the shadows.
“I think,” he said, “I finally understand.”
The sound of his voice set the threads vibrating. The end was swift.
“I think,” he said, “I finally understand.”
The sound of his voice set the threads vibrating. The end was swift.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Vampire Slayer
Hector readied his weapons: sword and knife, electroplated with silver; sawed-off shotgun; revolver, silver-tipped bullets; grenades and vials of holy water.
“We must be swift,” he said, “and decisive. Give no quarter, for you will be given none.”
They burst through the door. The interior smelled of rotten meat and old blood. The hunched form in the back reared at the sound, blood dripping from its fangs.
Afterward, Tristan noticed Hector weeping quietly. “Do you pity the dead?”
“You do not understand,” said Hector. “He was the last. The world is safer, now.” A pause. “And diminished,” he finished quietly.
“We must be swift,” he said, “and decisive. Give no quarter, for you will be given none.”
They burst through the door. The interior smelled of rotten meat and old blood. The hunched form in the back reared at the sound, blood dripping from its fangs.
Afterward, Tristan noticed Hector weeping quietly. “Do you pity the dead?”
“You do not understand,” said Hector. “He was the last. The world is safer, now.” A pause. “And diminished,” he finished quietly.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Harvesting
Christina glanced up. “Oh, honey, I’m glad you’re home. Can you get the claymore for me?”
Harold set down his briefcase. “Uh, sure. Where is it?”
“Back of the closet there. I was silly and put on the breastplate first, and now I can’t reach.”
“Doing a little gardening?” He hefted the six-foot blade and handed it over.
“It’s got to be done. They’re getting too big to handle. And we’re almost out of tomatoes.” She lifted the sword to ready position. “Okay. Open the door.”
Harold cautiously grasped the handle. Outside, the peas roared and scrabbled at the glass.
Harold set down his briefcase. “Uh, sure. Where is it?”
“Back of the closet there. I was silly and put on the breastplate first, and now I can’t reach.”
“Doing a little gardening?” He hefted the six-foot blade and handed it over.
“It’s got to be done. They’re getting too big to handle. And we’re almost out of tomatoes.” She lifted the sword to ready position. “Okay. Open the door.”
Harold cautiously grasped the handle. Outside, the peas roared and scrabbled at the glass.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
One Thing at a Time
The claxon shrieked, vibrating the whole of the tower complex. Intruders! Heavy booted feet were pounding down the hallways, setting up a thunderous counterpoint.
Draknar flailed awake, the shreds of a dream dissipating around him. Steady, steady, he thought. Just the expected attack, those so-called rebels. He peered around. Some ungodly hour of the night. Wasn’t supposed to come for two more days. Have to fire the scrying-pool operator.
He heaved himself upright. One thing at a time. He fumbled for a shirt, then the Eboncloak. The black helmet and Soulreaper stood by the door. Did I feed the Fellsteed?
Draknar flailed awake, the shreds of a dream dissipating around him. Steady, steady, he thought. Just the expected attack, those so-called rebels. He peered around. Some ungodly hour of the night. Wasn’t supposed to come for two more days. Have to fire the scrying-pool operator.
He heaved himself upright. One thing at a time. He fumbled for a shirt, then the Eboncloak. The black helmet and Soulreaper stood by the door. Did I feed the Fellsteed?
Friday, April 24, 2009
The Smell of Space
The Expedition III fired it reverse thrusters, drifting to a near halt. Goldberg punched in the code and allowed the airlock to spiral open. He drifted out, tether trailing behind him like an umbilical.
“Prepped and ready?” came Dersins’ voice over the comm.
“As I’ll ever be,” Goldberg sighed. “Let’s do this.” With an instinctive wince, he opened his helmet and breathed in. “Raspberries!” he gasped. “And… honey? And something else, smells like… oatmeal?” He opened his eyes and flailed in panic as the shimmering bear-shape approached him.
“We’ve been waiting, Goldy,” said the bear. “Let’s see about that porridge.”
“Prepped and ready?” came Dersins’ voice over the comm.
“As I’ll ever be,” Goldberg sighed. “Let’s do this.” With an instinctive wince, he opened his helmet and breathed in. “Raspberries!” he gasped. “And… honey? And something else, smells like… oatmeal?” He opened his eyes and flailed in panic as the shimmering bear-shape approached him.
“We’ve been waiting, Goldy,” said the bear. “Let’s see about that porridge.”
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Gumball
Timmy eyed the tiny man suspiciously. “I wanted a gumball.”
“I know, and I promise I’ll get you lots of gumballs. But you gotta use your quarter on this machine first, okay?” His hands were pressed against the wall of his plastic prison.
Timmy clutched at his coin. He glanced at his mother, who was fiddling with her checkbook.
“C’mon, kid! You’re my only hope! Don’t fucking do this to me!”
“That’s a bad word,” Timmy said. He turned his back on the toy machine and bought a gumball.
“Dammit!” The tiny man slumped. He glanced around. “Psst! Hey, kid…!”
“I know, and I promise I’ll get you lots of gumballs. But you gotta use your quarter on this machine first, okay?” His hands were pressed against the wall of his plastic prison.
Timmy clutched at his coin. He glanced at his mother, who was fiddling with her checkbook.
“C’mon, kid! You’re my only hope! Don’t fucking do this to me!”
“That’s a bad word,” Timmy said. He turned his back on the toy machine and bought a gumball.
“Dammit!” The tiny man slumped. He glanced around. “Psst! Hey, kid…!”
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The New Book
She paused when she reached the 300s. There was a small, furry, blue man on the shelf. His hair was spiky, like a hedgehog. He regarded her with an air of challenge.
“What are you?” she asked.
“I’m a book.”
“You are not.”
“I’m on a bookshelf, aren’t I?”
“You’re not square and made of paper. You don’t look like these.” She gestured at her shelving cart.
“So I’m a unique book.”
“What are you about, then?”
“Oh, everything. I’ve flown through the stars. I’ve seen galaxies born and die.”
“This is the social sciences.”
“So I’m misshelved,” he shrugged.
“What are you?” she asked.
“I’m a book.”
“You are not.”
“I’m on a bookshelf, aren’t I?”
“You’re not square and made of paper. You don’t look like these.” She gestured at her shelving cart.
“So I’m a unique book.”
“What are you about, then?”
“Oh, everything. I’ve flown through the stars. I’ve seen galaxies born and die.”
“This is the social sciences.”
“So I’m misshelved,” he shrugged.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Escape
Chet pulled open the stairwell doors and shined a light inside. He paused.
“What’s wrong?” asked Susan, glancing at the dark corridor behind them. Smoke curled from under one door. Another had what looked like vines creeping out. Another flashed with actinic light.
“Snakes,” said Chet. He eased the door shut. “A few thousand, looked like.”
“Well, what are we going to do now?”
The elevator dinged merrily at the end of the hall. The doors rolled open, revealing warm, welcoming light. They regarded it.
“Isn’t the power cut off?” asked Susan.
“Yup,” said Chet.
“So… the fire escape, then?”
“What’s wrong?” asked Susan, glancing at the dark corridor behind them. Smoke curled from under one door. Another had what looked like vines creeping out. Another flashed with actinic light.
“Snakes,” said Chet. He eased the door shut. “A few thousand, looked like.”
“Well, what are we going to do now?”
The elevator dinged merrily at the end of the hall. The doors rolled open, revealing warm, welcoming light. They regarded it.
“Isn’t the power cut off?” asked Susan.
“Yup,” said Chet.
“So… the fire escape, then?”
Monday, April 20, 2009
Unexploded Golems
Telebri thought the old battlefield was probably the saddest thing in the whole world. She used to scurry past it every day. She couldn’t bear to look at those empty hulks.
It was her father who put it in perspective. “Look, flowers and vines are growing around him,” he’d said, running a hand over the spiked shoulder-plate. “A bird is nesting in his mouth. Don’t you think, if he’d had a choice, he’d rather be a home than break down walls?”
Telebri stared at the massive fist. “But he’ll never move again.”
“Because he doesn’t need to anymore,” Dad smiled.
It was her father who put it in perspective. “Look, flowers and vines are growing around him,” he’d said, running a hand over the spiked shoulder-plate. “A bird is nesting in his mouth. Don’t you think, if he’d had a choice, he’d rather be a home than break down walls?”
Telebri stared at the massive fist. “But he’ll never move again.”
“Because he doesn’t need to anymore,” Dad smiled.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Slow Day
Gid sat idly on the transistor, his pole hovering in the datastream.
“How’s the fishing?” Lati drawled.
“Pretty bad,” Gid said. “It’s been a quiet day today. Not sure what to make of it.”
“Mebbe it’s on sleep mode.”
“Still ought to have some traffic. We’re right off the main branch here.” Gid shook his head. “I hope it hasn’t been… unplugged.”
“Naw. We’d be dead’n’gone.”
“Internal motherboard battery. We could be isolated here and never find out.”
“Well, crap. That’s kinda a downer.”
“Yeah.” Gid sighed. They sat in silence, watching the gate for any sign of a spark.
“How’s the fishing?” Lati drawled.
“Pretty bad,” Gid said. “It’s been a quiet day today. Not sure what to make of it.”
“Mebbe it’s on sleep mode.”
“Still ought to have some traffic. We’re right off the main branch here.” Gid shook his head. “I hope it hasn’t been… unplugged.”
“Naw. We’d be dead’n’gone.”
“Internal motherboard battery. We could be isolated here and never find out.”
“Well, crap. That’s kinda a downer.”
“Yeah.” Gid sighed. They sat in silence, watching the gate for any sign of a spark.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Regulars
Not continuity, precisely, but I think this old bar has a lot to offer. Who else comes in every now and then to order drinks from tough old Clem, do you think? Let's get some audience participation! Populate Clem's bar with me...
---
Come on in. Don’t be scared. Keep that notebook out, too. Old Sven there, he took a nasty fall, built hisself a new body outta metal and such. Din’t work quite right, so now he’s just got the legs. Kinda spidery, ain’t they? That’s Donovan, used to work at the power plant. Show him that thing you do with a light bulb, Donny. Yeah. Real pretty how it lights up, ain’t it? And ‘course there’s Jack, but he’s been and gone. Easy to tell, ain’t it, Clem? Now, you want stories, you talk to Clem here. He’s seen it all.
---
Come on in. Don’t be scared. Keep that notebook out, too. Old Sven there, he took a nasty fall, built hisself a new body outta metal and such. Din’t work quite right, so now he’s just got the legs. Kinda spidery, ain’t they? That’s Donovan, used to work at the power plant. Show him that thing you do with a light bulb, Donny. Yeah. Real pretty how it lights up, ain’t it? And ‘course there’s Jack, but he’s been and gone. Easy to tell, ain’t it, Clem? Now, you want stories, you talk to Clem here. He’s seen it all.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Maudlin
“It ain’t like it was,” Jack said. He gulped his beer. “Time was, a man could make a living just on hisself. Sweat of the brow.” He stood unsteadily. “I got a lotta talent, me. Raw talent. It’s part of who I am. But it ain’t about who you are anymore. ‘S about who y’know. A man ain’t got contacts, he ain’t got shit.”
With that, Jack headed for the door. Took it clean off and staggered down the road, clutching that chunk of wall like a lover.
Behind the bar, Clem shook his head as the snow drifted in.
With that, Jack headed for the door. Took it clean off and staggered down the road, clutching that chunk of wall like a lover.
Behind the bar, Clem shook his head as the snow drifted in.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Ungaaa!
The subway doors slid open. Hank caught the scent of smoke and seared meat. He sighed. This was the part he hated. He stepped out, minding the gap and trying not to stare at the hunched shapes around the fires.
A big male waved some sort of club. Looked like part of a street sign. He grunted at Hank. Hank clutched his briefcase and puffed himself up. “Ungaaa! Tak dor ungoway,” he said. His accent was atrocious.
The caveman hefted his weapon, eyeing Hank uncertainly. Hank reached into his pocket. He held out a candy bar. Payday. They loved peanuts.
A big male waved some sort of club. Looked like part of a street sign. He grunted at Hank. Hank clutched his briefcase and puffed himself up. “Ungaaa! Tak dor ungoway,” he said. His accent was atrocious.
The caveman hefted his weapon, eyeing Hank uncertainly. Hank reached into his pocket. He held out a candy bar. Payday. They loved peanuts.
Under the Ice
Isten held up the gauge. “Another three inches gone.” He shook his head and headed back to the tent. “We’re losing ice at an incredible rate. I think this might be the year the cap disappears completely.”
Marsbrook was heating the kettle for tea. “Bad news,” he said. Marsbrook treated words like precious objects.
“Bad? It could be apocalyptic!” Isten dropped to kneel by the cookstove. “The weather, ocean levels, saline concentration. Not to mention…” he trailed off, glancing at the dark shape just visible beneath the mountain of ice. “Yesterday, I thought I saw it move, just a little.”
Marsbrook was heating the kettle for tea. “Bad news,” he said. Marsbrook treated words like precious objects.
“Bad? It could be apocalyptic!” Isten dropped to kneel by the cookstove. “The weather, ocean levels, saline concentration. Not to mention…” he trailed off, glancing at the dark shape just visible beneath the mountain of ice. “Yesterday, I thought I saw it move, just a little.”
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Sunset Painter
Shelly came across the painter as he paused his work. “It’s lovely,” she said.
“Not my best,” the old man groused. “I wanted the clouds to have that scalloped effect and catch the red, but they turned out overcast.” He painted some arcing bird wings. Shelly heard their cries abruptly overhead.
“It looks just like the real thing.”
The man bristled. “Well, of course!” he snapped. “I’ll try again tomorrow, I suppose. There’s always another sunset. Work, work, work.” Before Shelly could respond, he stood and rolled up the canvas. Shelly cried out as the horizon crumpled and folded away…
“Not my best,” the old man groused. “I wanted the clouds to have that scalloped effect and catch the red, but they turned out overcast.” He painted some arcing bird wings. Shelly heard their cries abruptly overhead.
“It looks just like the real thing.”
The man bristled. “Well, of course!” he snapped. “I’ll try again tomorrow, I suppose. There’s always another sunset. Work, work, work.” Before Shelly could respond, he stood and rolled up the canvas. Shelly cried out as the horizon crumpled and folded away…
Monday, April 13, 2009
Robbing the Liquor Store
“Anything?”
Draknar considered the bottle in his mailed fist. “Nope. Let’s try that one.” He pointed the dread sword Soulspike at the whiskey section.
Scratnik clambered up the shelves. “This one, master?”
“Yes. Fetch it here.” Draknar shifted, sending empty bottles tumbling down from the pile. Outside, red and blue lights drew near, causing the Fellsteed to snort nervous flames.
“Master…”
“Silence! I wish to experience drunken revelry. My spells tell me this is how it’s done.”
“But Master…”
There was a gurgle as Draknar drained the bottle. He tossed it aside and smacked his lips. “Bah. Perhaps… that one.”
Draknar considered the bottle in his mailed fist. “Nope. Let’s try that one.” He pointed the dread sword Soulspike at the whiskey section.
Scratnik clambered up the shelves. “This one, master?”
“Yes. Fetch it here.” Draknar shifted, sending empty bottles tumbling down from the pile. Outside, red and blue lights drew near, causing the Fellsteed to snort nervous flames.
“Master…”
“Silence! I wish to experience drunken revelry. My spells tell me this is how it’s done.”
“But Master…”
There was a gurgle as Draknar drained the bottle. He tossed it aside and smacked his lips. “Bah. Perhaps… that one.”
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Only Real Thing
Shen scrabbled for purchase. All around them, the mists of illusion trembled, like an oil slick on the surface of a pond. Gripping his handhold, Shen reached out and brushed the surface. A tree shuddered and popped at his touch.
“We are lost in the pathways of deception,” Utvar intoned. He folded his legs into the lotus position and balanced on the engine. “We cling to the only real thing in the universe and seek the truth.”
Shen turned. There was not much room. “But why is the only real thing a lawnmower?”
“The ways of the universe are mysterious.”
“We are lost in the pathways of deception,” Utvar intoned. He folded his legs into the lotus position and balanced on the engine. “We cling to the only real thing in the universe and seek the truth.”
Shen turned. There was not much room. “But why is the only real thing a lawnmower?”
“The ways of the universe are mysterious.”
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Simple Gifts
He walks through the forest. The trees are evergreens, pine and fir. The ground is covered by a blanket of snow that crunches and squeaks beneath his boots.
He pauses at a tree. He considers it, rubbing his chin. The growth has gone from stubble to an outright beard by now. Yesterday he tossed away a razor unused. What would be the point?
Still, this is the moment of decision. His trembling hand hovers over the gaily-wrapped packages. He chooses a long, thin one. A rifle? A signal flare?
The paper falls to the ground. He sags. A hockey stick.
He pauses at a tree. He considers it, rubbing his chin. The growth has gone from stubble to an outright beard by now. Yesterday he tossed away a razor unused. What would be the point?
Still, this is the moment of decision. His trembling hand hovers over the gaily-wrapped packages. He chooses a long, thin one. A rifle? A signal flare?
The paper falls to the ground. He sags. A hockey stick.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Operation Stormflower
“Impact at Epsilon, Theta, Zed… droplet impacts everywhere, sir! It looks like a storm!”
The commander chewed his stem, eyes narrowed as he examined the onscreen map. “Get the bombers rolling,” he barked. “I want acorns hitting the ground on every flight path.” As saplings scattered with the new orders, he turned to the communications desk. “Get word to the pollinators,” he said. “They’ll be worse than useless in the downpour.”
The great petals of the flower-dish rotated, stamen trembling with the newest messages. A whistling sound came from overhead. The commander looked up.
“Pinecones,” he growled. “Duck and cover!”
The commander chewed his stem, eyes narrowed as he examined the onscreen map. “Get the bombers rolling,” he barked. “I want acorns hitting the ground on every flight path.” As saplings scattered with the new orders, he turned to the communications desk. “Get word to the pollinators,” he said. “They’ll be worse than useless in the downpour.”
The great petals of the flower-dish rotated, stamen trembling with the newest messages. A whistling sound came from overhead. The commander looked up.
“Pinecones,” he growled. “Duck and cover!”
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Messenger
Woop. Between oversleeping and an unusually busy night, I plumb forgot to post yesterday. Here's two to make up for it. ;-)
---
The glittering bridge between the Enclaves swayed beneath her feet. The cable would not break – anything able to generate enough force would also be capable of vaporizing the city – and the sway of the connectors had been calculated to within several hundredths of a degree of safety. Though she knew there was no risk of falling, her adrenaline spiked with every gust of wind.
She clutched the capsule to her chest. This information was too important to be trusted to comm-lines. Besides, what good was an offer of alliance without the payment? Her loyalty was to the family, above all…
---
The glittering bridge between the Enclaves swayed beneath her feet. The cable would not break – anything able to generate enough force would also be capable of vaporizing the city – and the sway of the connectors had been calculated to within several hundredths of a degree of safety. Though she knew there was no risk of falling, her adrenaline spiked with every gust of wind.
She clutched the capsule to her chest. This information was too important to be trusted to comm-lines. Besides, what good was an offer of alliance without the payment? Her loyalty was to the family, above all…
True Name
Muscles bulging, the Hero of Tyn-la-mar burst into the warlock’s sanctum. The air was thick with noxious smoke and the scent of scorched blood. The warlock spun in surprise pointed his hand at the Hero.
“I fear you not,” cried the Hero, “for you do not have my true name, and without that your spells are powerless.”
The warlock grinned and hissed a few words in a language never spoken by human tongues. The Hero felt his strength ebb away.
“How…?” he gasped.
“You have worn your mantle for too long,” said the warlock. “Truly, you are the Hero, now.”
“I fear you not,” cried the Hero, “for you do not have my true name, and without that your spells are powerless.”
The warlock grinned and hissed a few words in a language never spoken by human tongues. The Hero felt his strength ebb away.
“How…?” he gasped.
“You have worn your mantle for too long,” said the warlock. “Truly, you are the Hero, now.”
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Encore
“It is time.” Ferdinand stood and reached under the table. He pulled out a violin case, heavily locked. He had not touched it for many years.
“That is… No!” cried Alberto. “You have told me the stories, how it sang so beautifully. But the curse! You said if you played it even once more, it would claim your very life!”
Ferdinand pulled the key from its chain around his neck. “Yes, my friend. And it is so. But the audience, they have come tonight to hear my final concert. How can I not give them… the magic they ask for?”
“That is… No!” cried Alberto. “You have told me the stories, how it sang so beautifully. But the curse! You said if you played it even once more, it would claim your very life!”
Ferdinand pulled the key from its chain around his neck. “Yes, my friend. And it is so. But the audience, they have come tonight to hear my final concert. How can I not give them… the magic they ask for?”
Monday, April 6, 2009
Ordering Out
Chet’s brow wrinkled as he consulted the paper. Most of the items had been scratched off the list. “Okay, so pepperoni is a definite. And mushrooms.”
“And blood!”
“I still think we should have a veggie pizza.” Darlene was starting to get her martyred look.
“Sure, whatever.” Chet jotted a few more notes. “We’ll do one veggie and one pepperoni.”
“And blood!”
“Dammit, Drac, no one else wants your stupid weird foreign toppings!” Chet rolled his eyes. “You can’t even eat more than a slice without breaking out from all the garlic.”
Dracula frowned, momentarily crestfallen. “Fine, then. Half blood.”
“And blood!”
“I still think we should have a veggie pizza.” Darlene was starting to get her martyred look.
“Sure, whatever.” Chet jotted a few more notes. “We’ll do one veggie and one pepperoni.”
“And blood!”
“Dammit, Drac, no one else wants your stupid weird foreign toppings!” Chet rolled his eyes. “You can’t even eat more than a slice without breaking out from all the garlic.”
Dracula frowned, momentarily crestfallen. “Fine, then. Half blood.”
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Stoplight
Morning dawned at the stoplight where Grigor had been waiting for seventeen years; it had not turned green yet, and so he was patient.
"Still no luck, Grigor?" asked Mrs. Fuller as she brought him breakfast from her restaurant. He shook his head and smiled his thanks.
Another car sped past, on the road where the light was always green. Sometimes Grigor wondered what it must be like on that other road; he had never seen the same car twice. In the meantime, Jorge would soon visit on his morning jog, and Mrs. Fuller said she'd make strawberry shortcake later.
"Still no luck, Grigor?" asked Mrs. Fuller as she brought him breakfast from her restaurant. He shook his head and smiled his thanks.
Another car sped past, on the road where the light was always green. Sometimes Grigor wondered what it must be like on that other road; he had never seen the same car twice. In the meantime, Jorge would soon visit on his morning jog, and Mrs. Fuller said she'd make strawberry shortcake later.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Mementos
Luke answered the door. “We need you back,” said the figure outside, cloaked in a heavy trenchcoat.
“I’m not coming back, Michael,” Luke answered. “I told you that, long ago.”
“The War continues, whether you will or no.”
“It is free to do so. I’ll have no more part of it.”
“But…”
“Goodbye, Michael. Good luck.”
Luke shut the door on Michael’s protests. Habit guided his feet to the closet beneath the stairs and its hidden panel. They were still there, of course. The shimmering bronze wings, the fiery sword, the golden halo, glinting in the darkness.
Luke turned away.
“I’m not coming back, Michael,” Luke answered. “I told you that, long ago.”
“The War continues, whether you will or no.”
“It is free to do so. I’ll have no more part of it.”
“But…”
“Goodbye, Michael. Good luck.”
Luke shut the door on Michael’s protests. Habit guided his feet to the closet beneath the stairs and its hidden panel. They were still there, of course. The shimmering bronze wings, the fiery sword, the golden halo, glinting in the darkness.
Luke turned away.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Things He Learned
Taku bowed before his father. His brother and sister knelt with him.
“You have all been to study. Tell me what you learned.”
“I have been to the Nestling Tree,” said Taku’s brother. “I have learned growth and self-sustenance.”
“I have been to the Singing Fish,” said Taku’s sister. “I have learned to dwell in the dark and the deep.”
“I have been to the Wisest Stone.” Taku thought hard before he spoke. “His lessons were not always easy to understand. I have learned patience and hardness.” He gathered himself and leapt. Everyone gasped. “And I have learned to fly.”
“You have all been to study. Tell me what you learned.”
“I have been to the Nestling Tree,” said Taku’s brother. “I have learned growth and self-sustenance.”
“I have been to the Singing Fish,” said Taku’s sister. “I have learned to dwell in the dark and the deep.”
“I have been to the Wisest Stone.” Taku thought hard before he spoke. “His lessons were not always easy to understand. I have learned patience and hardness.” He gathered himself and leapt. Everyone gasped. “And I have learned to fly.”
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Swelling
It was after the ordeal of breakfast that George received the phone call. The test results were in.
“I’m pregnant!?”
“Not quite,” said the doctor’s tinny voice. “You’re creating a world.”
George laid a hand on his swollen abdomen; even that light touch was painful. “How long will it take?”
“Hard to say. I haven’t seen an actual case of medical cosmogenesis before. I can prescribe…”
“No,” George said firmly. “No drugs. Whatever this is, it’s mine.”
The doctor kept talking, but George set the phone back in its cradle. He leaned back, pensive. His expression was almost a smile.
“I’m pregnant!?”
“Not quite,” said the doctor’s tinny voice. “You’re creating a world.”
George laid a hand on his swollen abdomen; even that light touch was painful. “How long will it take?”
“Hard to say. I haven’t seen an actual case of medical cosmogenesis before. I can prescribe…”
“No,” George said firmly. “No drugs. Whatever this is, it’s mine.”
The doctor kept talking, but George set the phone back in its cradle. He leaned back, pensive. His expression was almost a smile.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Hunting Pack
Tyvalt halted his steed at the edge of the safe zone. Here at the borderline, the viscous mists sent out creeping tendrils along the ground.
Bare stone. Nothing grew here; the toxic stew was not thick enough to support the riotous color of the valley jungles, but true plants could not withstand even this much.
“We should not linger,” his native guide insisted.
“Oh? And which of your superstitions are we violating now?” Tyvalt had been unimpressed with the colony thus far.
“The sky-wolves hunt the border.”
Tyvalt scoffed, but even as he did, the distant howl went up overhead…
Bare stone. Nothing grew here; the toxic stew was not thick enough to support the riotous color of the valley jungles, but true plants could not withstand even this much.
“We should not linger,” his native guide insisted.
“Oh? And which of your superstitions are we violating now?” Tyvalt had been unimpressed with the colony thus far.
“The sky-wolves hunt the border.”
Tyvalt scoffed, but even as he did, the distant howl went up overhead…
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