tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60193258530864584802024-03-12T20:51:44.497-07:00GreySplatterAn [unedited]exploration of words and ideas in the loose guise of quick fiction DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-18755452283901656412023-10-06T07:49:00.002-07:002023-10-06T07:49:13.320-07:00<p> Boob Tube</p><p>How does one remove itself from the dreaded Boob Tube? Really when I get to doing shirt I really feel good. Most of the time I have so many things needing done that I'm just overwhelmed. Choosing ONE project and not giving a fork about any of the other things, excluding the "Musts" that go along with life, will whittle most of them down. </p><p>My issue is the shirt forking television. I like tv and my OLED 50" is something to behold. The color and the clarity are something that are nearly painful (when I actually receive the 4K info to max out it's capabilities). </p><p>It's actually a bit of an addiction. It starts with that hollow noise in my head, more felt than heard. It calls for the input. I say "just while I eat". Then I fall down the binge hole and then it's time for bed. I usually pull myself away enough to do dishes but sometimes not. I'm caught up on most of my series and Loki S2 is something keeping me stuck. Happily the last CEO of Disney was such a greedy mother forker that he forced the quality of the these shows to diminish quite a bit. Not as big a pull as previous. </p><p>The addiction keeps me watching. I realllly want to re-watch the Netflix One Piece series. OMFG I was swallowed up by that. More so because I've been watching the Anime for YEARS. And that is how I keep getting swallowed up. </p><p>I realize that I have to go cold turkey and be an absolute no.</p><p>But I'm also going to set up a series of smaller tasks that can be done in a short, at most, one weekend day session. If I can get several of those done, hopefully much of the stress can be whittled down. maybe.</p><p>Those are thoughts .</p>DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-51093092549267309622015-03-23T21:21:00.002-07:002019-10-23T14:06:30.556-07:00Angry Leprechaun<h1 style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; cursor: text; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; padding: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px;">It was like the sound of angry bees. A maleficent ball of sentient particulates brewing an unearned vengeance on the poor Maggie Malone O'Connel Donehue. The poor bastard didn't even get a chance to explain. He gave it back when he found out the gold belonged to them. Had he known how evil the little shits were he'd just made a wish and been done with them.</span></h1>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Part of the reason people don't believe in the Leprechaun is they didn't realize how tiny they were. Ugly green or orange fur covering their bodies. Mindless unless being spiteful. Bugs really. Nasty, mean, callus, angry things. That live off of gold. So why would they ever lose a coin. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Maggie Malone dashed around a tree and slid down a hill to a path that lead to a distant cottage. The sight refilled the drained hope in his heart. "Wife!" he yelled. "Wife, open the door."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He was getting close but the door was not opening. "Aine, you ol' bat, open the door." He reached the door just as she was opening.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"What's with this?" She was asking when he ran into her.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He untangled himself enough to get to the door and slam it shut.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"What is your fool mind thinking ye daft gombeen."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Wife. I's a fool like none you ever call me."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She stood up the severity of his plight sinking in.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You gamble way the meat money again?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"No wife. I ne'er made it."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He finally stepped away from the door and looked out the window. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Go on, I'm no fey to be lookin through your barren head."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I found a coin. Yellow and shiny. I looked 'roun and saw not a track or trail so I placed in my pocket."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"A gold coin, who'd loose a thing like that."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Well I figure I keep an ear out and maybe get a copper as thank you if not then it be ours outright."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Why look for the gobshite who lost it." </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Tis a good work to give that which burns in your soul my ma would say."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Your ma's the one, named you Maggie."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"She wanted a daughter after five sons."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"She got one too, what hell you running from?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I put it in me pocket, and then saw the moss."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Aine opened her eyes. "You make a wish? Lord preserve us. Tell me you didn't make a wish."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I thought it right to give it back."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Oh Fek."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"They hadn't moved. I thought they'd not seen me yet. I was gon' give it back anywar."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Aine shifted back and forth then paced the house. "They chased you did they?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Yeah."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You lost them?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Maggie looked out the window again, then put his ear to the window.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Yeah." he said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Well you dinnah make a wish that is good."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Nothing happened for awhile. Aine and Maggie began to relax. Not having any meat to go with it Aine started to make a cabbage and potato soup. “Oh, my right arm for an onion.” She said. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I got you onion,” Maggie Malone said and moved to the pantry, a small box in near the prep counter. “I put it in the cool box.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He opened the door and the swarm burst forth. A few landed on him and they stung. Both he and Aine rushed back to knock on the central pillar of the house. It had started to sprout again so living wood in the house was a blesing. “What you go having clover in the cold box.” he said. looking for something to allow them a way out. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The leprechauns started draining the home. It began to age as they stood there. Maggie Malone grabbed a blanket not being attacked by the creatures. threw it over himself and his wife and yelled in a whisper, “Run!”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
They were almost to the door when the pests turned on them. Aine pulled the door open and they threw back the blanket. It was dust before they it hit the ground.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
They ran for several yards before looking back.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Shite, man that’s our home.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Well what you want me teh do about it?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Don’t pick up coins.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Don’t leave clover in hidden places.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“It was for a poultice.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Well we were both trying to be good.” Maggie Malone said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Come let us get out of here. Come morning we’ll be up to our necks in gold and bad luck Let’s be somewhere safe.” Aine pulled Maggie Malone’s sleeve.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I thought I should make a wish when I realized it were their gold. Get them off my back.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“For now we loose our home and suffer their luck, but we can wait until they tire or find a new shite to hate on.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“For the last time, woman, I only wanted to do what was right.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“And I love you for it, you’re heart being so good it makes you a bit daft.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
There was a loud crash. Both turned to see their home fall to the ground. “</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Frighteningly fast the flew right at Maggie. As it did the specks began to take form. Walking legs formed then hips and a torso. “Would you look at that” Aine said fasinated. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
A woman about four feet tall formed then voices. “Maggie Malone O’Connel Donahue. you are sentenced to death.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“What fore I just gave you the money back. Not even money.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The form melted into a man. It looked like a leprechaun. “I’m here to give you the charges.” and he did, Even Sam</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
UNFINISHED</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-25932622433375864452015-03-23T21:18:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.476-07:00Swap<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">"Nah man, you just don't understand and you are just going to hate it when you do."</span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Jesson leaned over the cool metal table so his eyes met the eyes of Mason Flores. "I''m going to ask again," he said making sure his breath, heavy with the smell of old coffee, filled the wrinkly gray bearded face in front of him. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The eyes, so pale blue they looked gray, just turned up on the sides. Jesson pulled back to take in the whole face. Mason blinked as he adjusted to the new distance of his interrogator, then returned to the up turned smile. Those eyes matched the nearly flawless smile. A face that would have looked fatherly and kind but was ruined, turned dark by the pale skin mottled with pink splotches and blue veins.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Where is Doogan?" Jesson asked.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Man, I've told you Doogan is dead. I didn't do it. You could ask Deely but after torturing him you just let him die." </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
There was something knowing in the way this creep spoke. Jesson believed fully that Flores was telling the truth, but only part of it. He wanted Jessen to figure it out. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You know I'm telling the truth. At least as much truth as these gray walls tell of safety” Mason's smile widened. "Take some time I can leave when I want. For now it suites me to remain. I like the way you struggle to see what’s in front of you the whole time."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Your boy, Deely, he said the same thing. He told me to his dying breath that we didn't have a hold on him."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Mason Flores just laughed.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Fine, stay here I'll be back."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You lost him?" The deep voice of Tanner Tate sounded as the door clicked.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Lost? I never had him." Jesson said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“That good?" asked Tate.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
They began to wonder down a hall colored a lighter gray than the room Jessen had just left. Their shoes beating out a rhythm. A tip tap, tip tap. It sounded to Jessen like a heartbeat. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"No, maybe, but not now. He knows something and wants us to put it together. ourselves."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Why are you letting him play with you?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I'm not, he's omitting something but never lieing."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He's not? I believe I heard him say we killed Doogan."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"We must have. Doogan's devices bordered on magic. How do we know he didn't teleport with a fly or something."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Funny Jessen, We don't need sci-fi. We just need plain sci. Doogan's sci."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I'm working on it. Did you know anything about Deely?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"D-block, executed for killing three officers."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Who knew about that?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You, me, Prescot, and the three dead men."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"And apparently Flores."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"How did you get that?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He knew that Deely was tortured."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tate stopped. He looked at Jessen his eyes cold. "We don't torture."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Yes." Jessen knew not to fight it. He knew that many of those interrogated saw it as torture. He didn't like that his boss thought there was a difference.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tate turned back the way they came and waved for Jessen to follow. At a door like many others they crossed into a white room. Red lines ran along the walls about two feet from the top and two feet from the bottom. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Do you know anything about Doogan's work?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He invented the Vibe Phone."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Well." Tate paused shook his head. "Anything else, like his primary theory?" Jessen shook his head, "Nevermind. Over the last ten years, he became convinced in the human soul."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Jessen just looked at Tate, a smile ready for the brain to understand the joke. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Ah, I see." Tate continued. "Doogan began to do some creepy stuff with the human condition. The weapons he made were beyond fantastic."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Jessen didn't see how a weapon could be fantastic.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He created a death ray. An actual true to <em>Sci</em> death ray. It caused death, in humans. …and cats."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Sir, I'm not sure what this has to do with Flores or Deely?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Doogan's death ray, in layman's terms removed the soul from the body."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I'm sorry sir but this sounds more like science fiction. Unless."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
They raced back to the room. The mottled man looked big eyed and nearly started laughing. "I see you're starting to get it."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Doogan, where is your tech?" Tate was insistant.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Ha!" The man was almost crying he was so enjoying himself. "You're only have there."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You're not doogan." Jessen said. "You're not Mason Flores either, are you."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Ding Ding. Tate, this one needs a promotion."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Who then damn it."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"When you jump, the body can reject you. Like a transplant. It's slower, painful."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Who are you!" Tate demanded.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Mason, who were you?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The man just looked at him, a sadness melting into his face. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Deely." Jessen whispered. "You were kicked out."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You can still feel your body. You know what is happening to it."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Do you know where Doogan is?" Tate asked, still angry.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The man looked through Tate.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He was telling the truth. We killed him."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"He could just jump out. isn't that it?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"No, A body needs a soul. Loves it craves it. Doogan's machine was able to convince the body that it had two souls. The conscious one, you, can then jump out. ride another body. The body only needs one."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The man looked at his interrogators. "One soul. it won't let go. My body wasn't in the machine. I was the test pilot. I could almost leave my own body. I was getting sick. energies and explanations I won't go into. He was my mentor but he was becoming a mad scientist. The mob wanted this tech. Doogan was going to sell it to them. I couldn't let that happen. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I’d jumped so many times I knew how even toss out an old soul. I still needed a machine. The prototype still worked. I left my body and found my way to the transaction. I wrecked the truck it was shipping in. Most people are so distracted from their bodies they don’t know when something’s not right. It’s easy to take over. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Doogan found out and removed my body from the machine. I felt it. I felt the body dying. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I tried to get back but he jumped into it. His body was gone too. He'd removed it from the machine. An empty, living body, it needs a soul. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Mason was robbing a convenience store, I was loosing it, drifting. I needed a body. I took his and got caught. That’s when I felt my body and the pain. You people suck.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Do you expect me to believe this shit?” Tate said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“When your body stopped so did Doogan?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Mason/Deely shook his head. “Thanks for confirming. This guy is nearly dead and I need to go.” He turned to face tate. “Tate, I was just a kid trapped in a world that wouldn’t let him leave. Some of the things you did, the ones I could understand, To hell with you.” He yawned and collapsed</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tate yawned. “Damn I hate that yawn effect. Come Jessen”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Jessen jolted, looked at the body and turned to follow. “He’s dead.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Probably. Let’s get out of here. We still have a body to find.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Jessen nodded, after all that they still needed to find Doogan’s body. “I’m sure it’ll keep until after lunch.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tate just looked at Jessen, “You get’n callous Jessen?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 15px;">
Talking quietly but loud enough for Tate to hear, “I’d prefer not to answer.”</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-19786441848936756122015-03-18T21:05:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.468-07:00A Smile and a Chin<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Brian, 46 a little to fat to be called heavy, but not so fat as to be</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><em style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">called</em><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">fat, unless of course you're Gay in Denver, or any other city. He didn't like clubs but it was time to get over it. Time to finally do the thing he'd been running from for almost 20 years. He was going to get shit faced.</span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He knew he'd be sick for days, knew that it could do some irreversible damage but learned that it wasn't going to be much worse than all the bread and sugar he ate. Tonight however he was going to push the edge of what he wanted to do. He was going to get drunk. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Life didn't matter. What does a life mean if you can't succeed at anything? And when you are one of the non succeeding you find someone to laugh at the bleak existence you've created for yourself. And don't ever fool yourself into thinking it's not you're choices that put you there. You don't always know what you're choosing but you are. Brian chose poorly. So here he was alone, at a bar with no wingman nor a wingman to none. No hag — is that even an accepted term anymore? — and looking around no acquaintances to whom he’d be friendly. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He drove to this bar because ten years ago it was his last hope when the friend he called his best friend responded with "Why would I go there. There's nothing for me there." to Brian's question of "Will you go with me?" He went alone that night too. He called several people, everyone was "busy" doing, he found out later, things like staying home and watching TV.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Like normal he didn't know what to do. Mostly people spend way too much money on beverages that quenched common sense rather than thirst and talk catty to and about one another. While never actually going up to a <em>boy</em> they were interested in. And yet somehow hooking up with so many. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He parked, took in a deep breath and after turning off the car sat and played with the emergency break. Just holding it up and pushing the button. He could hear a hundred voices telling him he didn’t have to do this, but they were wrong. It was time to accept it was over. He was doomed to struggle through life failing at everything he did and never being with anyone who just liked him. Liked him, capital L perhaps even loved him. Thought he was worth the time because Brian was Brian. Not because Brian made them feel good, hopefully true, not because Brian was something to be put on a pedistal, but because Brian was… Brian. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
A couple of jock types crossed and made some rude comment, he remembered the years of trying to just be friends with some of these guys. Not tight but a hike. He wasn’t good at sports or anything athletic. So they never invited him. He’d watch. All he needed was for a smile and a <em>chin</em>. That little gesture guys do when they wave by quickly pointing the chin. It say’s “you”. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
And that’s the problem. He didn’t fit. Anywhere. His people were D&D, LARPing, MTG players. He didn’t like them. He didn’t masturbate to the TARDIS, he could tell you what it meant but didn’t accept that it made sense. Brian believed he was different than those ‘__ers, ‘__ees, and ‘__vians who drooled offensively on content of others living their dreams. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
His inward spiral broke when someone placed an empty beer can, a primer for the bar he guessed, on his car. He got out and said “excuse me, can you remove that?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The skinny, already drunk, if not high, queen turned and said, “Fuck you bitch. It isn’t gonna hurt your shitty car.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“yeah, well it’s my car.” </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The tight shirt, chestless, latina with his makeup, french tips and four inch platforms turned to the queen and said “girl he’s a looser, and this bitch needs a cosmo”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Brian lifted the can and tossed it at them. They laughed because he <em>missed</em>. He wiped his hands on his pants locked the door and followed, at a distance, the uber flames, those whom he hated the most about clubs, Into the bar.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He walked in, the bouncer asked for his I.D. which he politely handed over. With a swipe of the card through a machine, not even looking at the read out, he handed the I.D. back to Brian and let him pass.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Nothing had really changed. The boys were younger the, music louder, but it was just him. Further evidenced by the fact that the same men danced in their underwear, a newer model but still over cute and looking like they hated the world. The same Bears in their clicks and sub genres. He never did figure out all the names, but there were the biker bears who were so light in the lofers as to be twinks with bulk and beards. The burly bears, the muscle bears, silver bears and of course the chubs. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He did a round. Same Tom of Findland posters. Same back bar with smoking on the deck. The public trough/urinal was still there. Men with the bigger penises the only ones not afraid to use it. They took the benches down. Too many blow jobs he guessed. The disco room was updated but still several years behind in house music. Then back to the main room with the big bar. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Brian started to head to the pool tables, but he was already feeling overwhelmed and needed to get his drunk on. He recognized the bar tender. A friend of a friend’s boyfriend or some such he’d met at several parties. He turned and smiled, held up a finger, finished with a customer and came over</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Hey Tom.” Brian said, giving his best chin. <em>was that bad chin work?</em></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tom looked a bit off balance for just a blink. He didn’t recognize Brian, nor did Brian expect him to. Still it would have been nice.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Beer?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“No, I’ll have a Madori sour.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
A blink, a slight turn of the head then a smile. “Right up.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Eight dollars, with the two dollar (and he was being cheap) tip and he had his favorite drink to whet the palate. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He continued to watch through his third drink. Switched to Long Islands because they were cheaper. More alcohol and cheaper. So he sat there and drank all the time knowing people saw him. Knowing they judged him. These fags were just like any breeder, superior acting to hide that they too were scared and confused. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He would try to interact but somehow he turned people off. He didn’t know how but he did. He tried to become aware of what he was doing as he did it but over time just gained a new level of neuraticism making his repulsive nature even more powerful. In his mind he saw the pointing and the laughing. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
A tear fell before he even knew it was forming. He was out of Tea. It had only been an hour. “Tom!” He said a bit loud. “Wow that was loud. I’m talking loud.” </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tom came over. “You okay?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“No, I suck.” He looked at his phone. “Shit I’ve been her barley 90 minutes. 87 to be exact.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “I can’t drive but I need more tea.” He put the keys on the bar. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I can’t take those, but I can call a cab.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Can’t afford a cab. But I can afford another Tea.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He didn’t drink this one so fast. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
An hour passed the room was spinning a little and he needed the bathroom. So he stumbled to the trough and dug out his micro wonder and peed. Let them know he was not what they were looking for. Fuck them.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Back to the bar, he’d pissed off three people by running into them. “I’m drunk. It’s been 27 years. Whew.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
By some fluke his seat was open. Tom wasn’t there. The angry one sold him another drink. A nice looking guy in a ball cap sat next to him. “Having a rough time?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Nope?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Looks like you’ve been crying.” </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Just sad is all. And fuck them. I’m here to get shit faced and leave all of this.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“The bar scean?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“No…” He sipped and a tear fell out of his left eye. He wiped it, “sorry. No man Gay shit.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Really?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“You’re smiling. You got it all wrong. I’m gay. You gay?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Yes.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Good, you’re cute, but I’m drunk so Quasimodo would look good. Not that your ugly, my perception is just hindered. Why am I talking weird?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The guy just laughed.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Any way I’m tired of wanting this.” he wave to the room. ‘I know.” he paused and looked at the men laughing and dancing. “I know I’ll always want it but this.” he pointed to the glass. “This will remind me that I’m UGLY.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“What?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“No, no, Really. Listen. I’m ugly. Not old lady with cats ugly but people don’t like me.” Tears started to fall. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I just wanted to have someone to be friends with. A buddy. Sure I want sex. I always want sex, but that’s not all there is. I wanted a friend who would be brave for me and I’d be brave for him.” A voice somewhere deep inside was telling him to stop but Tea was in charge and he went on. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I wanted a best friend, hell I’d be Sancho, I didn’t care as long as I could be his Don qui-whatever.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I’d love a lover but I can’t even get past ‘see you at the next party where we don’t have to actually connect. You’re funny and beyond that go away.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Brian didn’t even see the guy anymore. he knew he was there but he was lost in his words. His tears dried and he spoke the pain. Pausing only to offer him a drink every few minutes.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Brian put his drink down and looked at its contents. To Dave he said, "This glass seems full but what is in it isn't what we want in it. Most of what is here is water cleverly held at bay by a lack of love. And water’s the good stuff”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The man looked and smiled, something that disrupted Brian's maligned thinking.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I don't drink you know. I told the, thingy person." he pointed at the bartender, "To hold my keys. Thanks for listening to me. I'm sorry for being so sad."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The man took off his cap and just smiled and waved to the tender and got Brian's keys from him. "The car will be safe till morning?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It was Tom. A cap, maybe there was something to Clark Kent after all.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tom helped Brian up and coaxed him to his car. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"This your car?" Brian asked. "S'nice." His unsteady feet didn't quite agree on how to circumnavigate but he made it around the beige Juke. "I want one.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I’m taking you to my apartment. You need someone around just in case.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Thank you. I don’t drink. I just wanted to say good bye. Move to boulder and some how get my heart to accept love isn’t in the cards.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I don’t think you’re ugly. I’ve liked you for years.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“You remember me?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Yes. You talked to me one night. Made me think. I’ve been in art classes. Slow going, but I felt seen by you.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I get that a lot.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I think it scares people.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Being noticed?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Come on you and me a breakfast date?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I’m gonna throw up.” Brian jumped out at the next stop and did exactly that.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I have a tooth brush.” Tom said when Brian got back in.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I don’t get it. I’m drunk and not that has ever stopped me but here goes the scare people off stuff. If we like eachother after the first date and I’m sober I’ll be scared and…”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Stop. I’ll stop you when you need to stop, how’s that. Other wise your candor is a wonderful break from, what did you call it the GayGay?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Oh man I’m so gonna regret all of this in the morning. I was a mess wasn’t I?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Well yeah. I trust it though. Can’t say why, but I’ve always trusted you.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Okay then when the world stops spinning we’ll have brunch.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 15px;">
Tom didn’t say anything so Brian looked at him. Tom just smiled and gave him an amazing chin.</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-2714598055234701902015-03-16T21:16:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.481-07:00Our First Fight:SCU<h1 style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; cursor: text; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; padding: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px;">Teri and I decided to head over to the art district of Morshon Peak, the High City built on the place of the War of Morshon Lutrice. We weren't given license to practice the art out of campus or the campus town so if Teri were to convert which sometimes happened, she could be arrested and then a night of convincing the authorities would commence. So she wore her protection. It made her sick and couldn't drink but she wanted to see Zinshun's dynamic art. </span></h1>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
We had to arrive seprately, and she showed up in a form fitting dress that did things with her breasts that made me jelous. She walked up to me with exposed shoulders and a smile that out made me melt. The lights<sup><a class="footnote" href="file:///private/var/folders/hf/rnldcxx95zj1chxnnr63l8340000gn/T/com.soulmen.ulysses3/QuickExport/16-2/index.html#fn1" id="ffn1" style="color: #4183c4;">1</a></sup> around the cafe seemed to dim. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She came to me and kissed me on the cheek. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Um." I said. "Wow." I said. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She turned around giving me a full taste of her filling out the front back and sides of a dress determining in vain to expose any flaw. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Did they wrap that on? Who do I thank?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Shut up." She hit me with a small clutch. "Help me put this on" She unfolded a piece of cloth that had very subtle straps sewn into it. A wrap covering the socially offending shoulders but worn like sort of like a jacket. Thank you, and she kissed me and slapped a wrist band on me. I could feel all labido leaving my body. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"You give off a lot of energy, I didn't bring enough for drag face, besides I always have to shave right away." More to herself she added, "how does one appear with a day's growth already."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"It's hot. That's how." We turned tward the deep lilting voice to see Joseph White in all her fantastic glamour. "Ladies, how are my little sparrows?" </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Seph, how have you been." Terry jumped up to hug our intruder. "You look fantastic."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Of course I do darling. I see our Prince Valiant is looking underdressed." She said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I didn't know it was to be a Coat and Tie affare." I said truthfully.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"That's okay, you're so cute no one will take offence." She kissed me and turned back to Terri. "Speaking of hot, why isn't lovely Mr. Terry here? With this one I'd think we'd never be bless with this fantastic body." She indicated Terri's body.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She held up her wrist with the protective band. "I wanted to give my man here a night of pure hetero indulgence"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"That is just fantastic." Joseph leaned into me. You are one lucky dog. All the joys of both sides" and walked off.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I hope he's okay," I said when she was flirting with her next <em>sparrow</em>.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Terri turned to look, "Why."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Didn't you feel the stubble?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"yeah, but I thought it might be me." I saw relief and concern in her eye. "Let's go inside."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I led her in and immediately felt out of place. I'd had decided on my nicest button shirt and new Jeans. I even polished my shoes. None of it even got close to the couture of those in attendence. Teri led me to a magicians table, she handed him tickets to which he pulled off the stub portion and handed the other halves and two pairs of glasses back to here. She put a bill down and leading me to the bar handed me on pair of specticles.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"What was that?" I asked inspecting the glasses.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"We need the glasses. Only those on the list get to see the main exhibit."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I looked at the walls covered with paintings and sculptures ranging from amazing all the way to pretenious. "These aren't the exhibit?" The ones I could see had the calligraphic Z and scribble that indicated it as Zinshun's work.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"This is all old work" She handed me the tickets and waved to get the attention of the bartender.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I looked at the tickets and choked on my spit. "Three hundred?" I said a bit louder than I expected. She turned to me a drink in one hand. "Each." I said a little quieter.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She profered the glass. "What of it?" She smiled.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I don't…" words just got stuck in my mouth. "I can't…"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Can't what?" She seemed to be challenging. It was times like this I needed a dude and my current best friend was hiding somewhere behind the two most perfect breasts on the planet. I knew I shouldn't get so involved in Terry's friendship.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"It just cost so much, for art. Can you afford this. I'll pay you back I promise."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I don't need your money."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"It's just…" I staired at the Three zero zero</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Just take your drink." She practically threw it at me.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
We walked around looking at some of the most intense images I'd ever seen. There were Moltens (pictures painted with metal made liquid at just above room temprature) and Photo realistics and pure abstracts. I'd done something but wasn't quite sure what and when I brought it up she coldly but politely changed the subject.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Finally I saw Joseph White. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"So you think he's doing okay."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Seph will be fine."</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Look I'm sorry if I embarassed you. I'm guessing it's about the cost of the ticket. Is it?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She didn't look at me she just staired forward at the painting. "Look at this one." She said.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I did, it made my eyes water. I could tell it wasn't an abstract but I just couldn't figure it out. Every time I thought I was capturing the image, figuring it out, my focus was forced to the other side of the painting. We stood there for a long time until I started getting dizzy. I hoped using some grounding practice would help so I began a open Zoan. Terri smacked me.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"What are you doing?" she hissed</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"I just wanted to clear my head.” </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Stop it your fake field shows.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
That hurt. We don’t talk much about it. I can do most things naturals can. I’m even as strong as most. It does take me a bit longer to build a field but even in a crisis I can cast, and incant like a natural. We know that anyone should be able to take on magics. Till now Terri didn’t ever bring up <em>my</em> handycap. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It’s not. A handycap that is. It’s a minor disability. I never knew it was on her mind. She is right I do have a glow that can’t be hidden, but fake field?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I started to protest but Joseph White leaped on to the stage and began. “Well.” She said dabbing her head with an orange cloth that perfectly clashed with her purple dress. “Isn’t this a special night. So many fine faces.” She presented herself with open arms. “And so much money.” The crowd laughed.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Okay,” I said to Terri under my breath. “Now I know something is wrong with him.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She noticed my slipped pronoun. “What’s wrong with <em>him</em> then?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I was too hurt by the “Fake” comment. I’d almost lost my scholarship, that first year. I had to fight to get a release from enchantment. I couldn’t be an artificer it didn’t work for me.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Joseph, never sweats. Joseph is positivly dripping now. Look at his…”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Her.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Fine, <em>HER</em> dress.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“You are just being a jerk.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I just stood there. I began to wish for Terry, I even snuck off my bracelett. Terry seemed to understand when I was confused. He didn’t hold things like this against me. I know I and Y are the same person but there are subtle and not so subtle personality shifts too. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“A jerk, I don’t remember attacking your condition.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Would you have accepted the ticket if I had my dick?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Oh please, is that what this is about?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Over the susurrous of our argument we heard. “Because I know I came here to see some magnificent work of a man who knows how to turn this crank, I’m guessing <em>some</em> of us came here to make it about them?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The crowd gathered had turned to watch us. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Terri didn’t growl at me. I know she didn’t but the look she gave sounded like a growl. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“No?” Joseph asked us. “too shy to perform anymore?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
My face was very hot and every scolding I’d ever gotten started to echo in my head. I smiled and let out a small laugh and put my arm on Terri’s shoulder. She jerked herself out of my arm and stepped forward.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The Tosser half back in drag continued his rather impressive introduction and then lowered the main attraction. Eight disks of marble settled to the ground. With a flourish he put his sparkly glasses on and told us to do the same.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
On the marble platforms stood in a material so fine, so delicate, were eight statues. The glasses let us see the pieces in how the light was changed as it passed through the figures themselves.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I recognized one. It somehow captured the essence of my Terries. Both I and Y. The statue seemed both male and female. An expert telling, if you will, of the person who right now was so pissed at me that I feared physical harm.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I’m sorry to inturrupt but can you step back. Your Szu is interfering with the statues.” Joseph seemed very sorry for having to ask and he took a small piece of the stable Szu and had others wave their hands through it. One was a master Mage, a professor from the college. Then me. It sparked and flashed in visible light. When I pulled back there was a piece missing.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Twice, in one night? </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It was amazing to look at though. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I found Terri and she said she was going home.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I tried to go after her but she refused and left. I went back in and sat at a safe distance and looked at the statues. They were pleasant and eerie and so detailed. The one of Terri flooded my vision every time I looked at it. Maybe this is why she bought those tickets.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“So what do you think?” All drag persona gone.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I love them, of course I’m taken by ‘Cerberus’ Folly’.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “You are a very lucky man.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Then it made sense. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Did you give her the tickets?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I have no idea what you are talking about. This is a charity event.” Before my eyes he mentally put the dress on and she ended up flitting away to scandalize another potential buyer. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Hey, why Cerberus?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
She turned and said, “Why? Honey they may not be visible all the time but that magnificent human being has three heads.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
I stayed until I realized I was watching the door more than the pieces of art.</div>
<ol id="footnotes" style="background-color: white; background-image: url(data:image/png; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; padding-left: 30px; padding-top: 15px;">
<li id="fn1" style="margin: 0px;">The synthetic Loshin venom used to create these shone much brighter than the old natural kind. Milking the beast was very traumatic for the thing and LU was instrumental in finding a synthetic that would work as well. Potions masters and Artificers were pissed. They believed they could make a light source that would end the need to harm creatures but it turned out to be the Sciences. They created a liquid that absorbed light then would vibrate at a frequency that somehow caused the synthetic venom mix to glow. I don't know how but I find it facinating <a href="file:///private/var/folders/hf/rnldcxx95zj1chxnnr63l8340000gn/T/com.soulmen.ulysses3/QuickExport/16-2/index.html#ffn1" style="color: #4183c4; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">↩</a></li>
</ol>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-26652833029160910622015-03-15T23:51:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.479-07:00Shushing of the Wollap<h1 style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; cursor: text; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px !important; padding: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Once upon a time there was a very special Pudding Wollap. She was special because she was the softest fluffiest Pudding Wollap in all of ChewChew Grove. Her name was Wuvwee and her pink fur on her round pink head and round body was the envy of all the land. She even triied to un cute by putting the most adorable lime creen bow in her hair. It was sooo cute.</span><span style="line-height: 22px;"> </span></span></span></h1>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
One day while skipping through the Tralala Forest little Wuvwee happened upon the shiniest most sparkly of all plants. It was a Kittle Blossom. Which if you know your ChewChew plant lore you know how silly of a name that is because it isn’t even a blossom. That’s right it’s a fungus, a mushroom.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
This one was a deep happy blue with extra shiny pink spots. Little Wuvwee crouched to look at the special little plant and giggled. She decided to pick the plant and show it to all her friends. Pookiepie and Happyshines would scream the best. Pookiepie would most definitely do her wigglely dance. She carefully picked it and nearly crushed it in her very large very soft hands. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Officer Tickleshine, slim and smooth with no fur special or not, saw Little Wuvwee with her very special plant. Tickleshine was a little upset. She was sad because the pink and pretty Pudding Wollap with the brilliant green eyes and special happy smile coudn’t wait for the plant to melt. And it did.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Wuvwee slowly stopped skipping and then the world began to dance. She could her the trees talking. They were so happy being trees and standing in the sun and giving people shade. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 15px;">
This very special Pudding Wollap woke up to the singing. She was in a hole in the ground somewhere. Then she saw a thin green shiny Wollap. She had patches of soft fur stuck to her furless form. She saw a very thin and shiny Pudding Wollap with soft brightly colored fur stuck there her body. Wuvwee looked down for the first time. Grey furless Puddings lay there. A basket lowered and Wuvwee was instructed to put the conditioner in the basket.</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-77384708819358010642015-03-14T23:44:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.514-07:00Preston<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">Is hope something you misplace or is it something that gets consumed. Is it like an overworked organ that eventually gives out. Could it be something like a reservoir that once drained takes time to refill. Can someone who's hope has gone get hope back. Preston Reginald Craig had lost his. He didn't know what happened to it.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"> </span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Until his mid thirties he'd always had hope. When life did something he couldn't quite navigate without getting smashed against the rocks hope always seemed to patch him up and let him sail on. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Now he seemed to be aground. Wrecked really. Slowly taking on water and didn't have a bucket. Sometimes, those rare good days it felt like he was just becalmed and hope was wind that just didn't blow today. Those were the good days. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston wanted other. He'd ended up in this dead water slowly running through his supplies and had no hope he'd get out. A lagoon called "a job" with no way of growing. Money always tight and getting tighter and after all this no one in his life to laugh with. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
With all this Preston knew he was in a blessed position. Every day he heard of people starving, dying of disease, crippled in accidents. And reinforced by those ass holes who shamed with terms like "First world Problems". So he knew that looking at the guy in the coffee shop who was working diligently on his <em>whatever</em> and nearly seething with envy was silly. But he still wanted.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He got up yesterday and did all the same boring and time pressing crap he had to do. At the same time listened to the last of six days worth of Sandersen novel. He knew he shouldn't the noise ditracted him a little too much at times. When he needed to file or sort he should turn it off but most of his job didn't require that part of his brain. So he could just drift in the land of Sandersen's Spryn (Sprin? Audio didn't give spelling) or Butcher's Wizard Detective. And he fretted about what he should do for lunch. What would best serve him?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He talked sports with the guys who actually cared about such stupid stuff. How could so many people not see how they were being played? He wanted it though. That insecurity that led to an odd certenty. He even bought two squares in some give money and play some sort of Bingo game. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It left him even more empty to try.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Why does it matter to be more like those he didn't understand. Hope might help him with the aswer but he knew that he didn't have the <em>woody-woo-woo</em> or whatever to make real frieds. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
He did it because it was a salve. A tiny thing that for moments allowed him to be in the <em>other</em> of things. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The day was almost over and out the window he saw a sad… <em>thing</em>. It was about four feet less because of the hunch, it's baggy clothes looked like they were made of blanket. It walked through the bushes picking up wrappers and licking them. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston had eaten half of his 6" meatball, — food the only time joy broke through the cloud that hope used to burn off — and realized that he could do without the tiny bit of joy today. He cut the bite bits off wrapped it up and walked out.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The <em>thing</em> was nearly invisible in the bushes. He almost gave up looking for it/him…/it. He found the thing licking an old soda can. The guys on the third floor were pretty persistant in not using the trashcan.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
"Excuse me, but are you hungry?” </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The look. Preston didn't like this look. It was a look of bitter condescension. How dare he seek to help the thing. there was shame. Shame in sharing his sandwich.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The <em>thing</em> nearly leaped at the sandwich and ran back into the bushes. There were sounds. Very uncomfortable sounds. The half sandwich Preston had eaten wanted to make a reappearance. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
A <em>thing</em> dressed in clothes — a robe Preston could now see — that looked like they were made from a blanket, came from behind the bushes. A little less hunched and licking a hole in the paper.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Apparently it had forgotten about how it had come in to such wealth, because it looked surprised to see Preston standing there. It looked at him. Grayish skin like a rhinoceros, thick looking and speckled with thick grey hairs. It’s eyes were big and it’s nose and lips merged like a soft beak. It blinked twice then held out the hand with out the wrapper. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
“Sorry I don’t have anything else.” Preston said. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The <em>thing</em> thrust its out reached hand further. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston shook his head and held his hands palm out. “Sorry, no more.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
The <em>thing</em> crushed the paper in its left hand and let out a “humph”.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston was a bit taken aback by the “humph”. “I can give you money.” he said and pulled out some bills from his pocket. He had a one and two fives. One can’t buy anything but five can get enough to fill you at a fast food place. He separated a five and handed it to the <em>thing</em>.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It practically ripped it, it pulled it from his hand so fast. It looked at it confused for a moment, sniffed it and wrinkled its face before letting the bill go. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston quickly grabbed bill and said, “No you buy food with it.” Maybe it was more animal. It seemed smart enough.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
It grabbed the bill again and took off.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Last week it was a floaty green-blue thing that, as best as he could figure, wanted to give him a blow-job. That didn’t happen. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston watched the grey <em>thing</em> zoom around the corner and just shook his head. He went back to the office and found a book in his library he hadn’t listened to for a long time and settled in to his routine. A little after, Johansen walked in to tell everyone about his new all-wheel hybrid sport utility and Winchell went on about his child’s first joke. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 15px;">
Preston Reginald Craig got off work, sad. He didn’t have much. Money was always tight. Johansen’s wife pulled in almost twice what he did and they did all sorts of neat things. His check was for fun. Granted his old car was rear ended but this was an brand new vehicle. Winchell always complained about his doting wife and excitingly normal children. Their lives just seemed to good. He worked at a place that bored him to tears but what else could he do?</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-3915236592723942222015-03-13T23:33:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.490-07:00The Best Love Never Had<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;">Wendy called again. This was the third time she called this week. How. Just how did he ever get so lucky. This girl was so sweet. She liked Wharhammer, roll playing and even Larped on occasion. And with her pictures, she assured him were recent, she was the best thing that could ever have happened to him.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He finally found a dating sight that seemed to have people really wanting to commit. Wendy was, as she put it ready to find her knight. Bob waited till the third ring and answered.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Bobby.”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Hey you. I can’t talk long, I’ll need to go in to the office in a few but I wanted to see how my hobbit was doing?” hearing the voice on the other end was like drinking cool liquid. He almost missed the Hobbit remark. He knew he was short but he never got as mad with her.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You know up to the cool comforts of home. It’s been snowing for three days straight.”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Three, you are so lucky. They say it’s going to snow here but unlike Colorado the snow here is just rain that gave up on love.”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Ouch.”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Right?”</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They talked for twenty minutes when she realized she was late and said she had to go. Bob went outside to enjoy the dry fluffy snow for the both of them.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The snowy March melted into a week of April rain. He called her and she called him. Skype was out of the question. She didn’t have a decent connection and didn’t want to use her company computer for personal work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bob put together a playlist for her, wrote her poems and she would write him fantastic stories and leave him singing messages on his answering machine. Her near encyclopedic memory of old cartoons and 80’s television made spending time with her more fun than he had with anyone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two days before she was supposed to come home from Tokyo, they decided to ship her to Nagahama. A smallish town that housed one of her companies bigger clients. It’d be another two weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then she had to go to New Zealand. She’d send pictures. She was horrible at taking them. The lens was dirty or motion blurred. But always pictures of where she was at. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He went to work one day and Stella, his manager, called him into her office.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yes, boss?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Don’t call me that.” She said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Sorry.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Jeff tells me you’re in a relationship?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yeah, she’s great.” He slipped out his phone and showed Stella a picture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“A cutie.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I can’t wait to meet her.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“So you haven’t met in person?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“No her work keeps sending all over the world.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“What does she do?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“She works for a tech firm she trains and coaches people on their product.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Impressive.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I know I thought too good to be true, but her Japanese is wonderful and clunky.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You speak Japanese?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“No, I watch a fair amount of anime.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Ah.” She paused and put a pen she was playing with, down and looked right at him. “I’ve had a few of your coworkers tell me they’re worried for you.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“That’s nice but I know she might be a sharlitain, but it’s been three months and she hasn’t asked for money.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And she hadn’t until she lost her plain ticket and was too embarrassed to tell the company. She needed to be with her direct superior it was going to be 5thousand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He almost did. But they’d never met and never even skyped. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The heat of summer dropped into a blizzard jumped up to the 80’s then sub zero and winter arrived. It was snowing. As time passed his attempts to get in touch with her slowly spread out and then stopped. But today the start of the third day of snow he made a valiant trek to the market to get a blue rose like the ones she would send him. Made it home made a romantic dinner. Set the table for two, went to his Spotify account and pulled up the play list he sent her and sat down to a nice dinner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She’d been false the whole time. He in his late thirties had never had a serious relationship and no one made him feel that way. He wasn’t mad. Dissapointed sure but not mad. She’d given him something that he’d always treasure. He fell in love. So hard it took two months to stop crying. But today he knew that the feelings he had with her were real. Falsly based but real. He poured a glass of sparkling cider and celebrated some of the best memories a guy could ever have.</span></div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-6056553873392072802015-03-12T00:48:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.508-07:00Malcolm Shield<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
China dug through his plastic action figures looking for the black one with silver trim. The one that looked like, but due to licensing restrictions couldn't be called Malcolm Shield. He took the figure to his desk, a plain door on file cabinets type that span a whole side of the room. Large but mostly unusable because of the sheer volume of paraphernalia used to mimic his favorite Defender.</div>
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His parents wanted China to be a researcher or even weapons engineer. They wanted their only son to live on. Too many children died young. Many in an action on the enclave. China was special in that he had no siblings. An odd thing in a time when keeping women pregnant meant survival. </div>
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Malcolm Shield was old for a Defender. Almost 36. Most had the honor of death in battle. Malcolm had honor of wins. He could kill a squad of men or Shoan with his blessed blade. Admittedly it was unfair but to be honorable Malcolm Shield always attacked from the front. Before pulling his sword the wanted to look the enemy in the eyes. </div>
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Malcolm Shield was a god among men and China wanted to be him. He was speaking at the market today. To tell the people of the Jantwe subclave to send more sons. A meaningless call but one to keep people believing they had a choice. They didn't. Even China knew this. Sending sons and barren daughters to battle was compulsory for the survival of the people and also it was the law. No one broke the law. They all knew what was at stake. </div>
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Jantwe bordered the outer wall. They had front row view to the battles and he personally saw his hero Malcolm Shield on the battle field. He dug through his desk drawers found the extra gluey glue and stuck the figure that legally was not Malcolm Shield to a board counted to thirty-dead-like-a-Shoans, tucked it under his arm and ran to the meeting field. </div>
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It was spectacular. Malcolm Shield seemed brighter and bigger in real life. People cheered and hooted. They were as ecstatic as China. Then a scream. Three figures could be seen sliding down the inner wall. A Shoan and two of his human pets. Malcolm leaped off the dais and ran to intercept. The crowd made it impossible for the Defender to defend. China watched him try to circle people and how he had to keep picking people up so they wouldn’t be trampled. </div>
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He wanted to be Malcolm so he was going to act like him. He had no fighting experience but he could help pick people up. He chased after Malcolm and did his best to help. </div>
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The venom of the Shoan was fast. People would with in seconds start to fight their own kind. You could see the fear in their eyes as they did. China had never been this close. Children not trained in control fell fast to the call and started attacking. Malcolm didn't wait he began cutting them down. He had to. They would continue to kill or capture for the dark creature. This one was a rare red. A female. It was going to make a nest. It needed solders. </div>
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It infected several dozen before Malcolm could reach the first. China had stopped trying to help and just followed. The two humans that came with the Shoan were long infected. When other defenders started appearing they fought back. Able to fight with awareness they killed without remorse. They used people as shields and as weapons. The few strikes taken by the possessed didn’t seem to even phase them. </div>
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Finally Malcolm Shield was able to reach the fight at the Shoan Queen. She had no more fodder to infect and no more patience. She leaped at the Defenders ripping them apart. No weapon seemed to touch her. Malcolm Shield went first to the possessed he sheathed his sword and fought them hand to hand. </div>
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The most noble thing to do for the long fallen. Fight them with honor. He finally killed the second man but as he did the Shoan Queen landed on him. Her ichorous blood dripping freely and she bit. China saw his hero’s eyes go wide then fall. </div>
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China was over this. He never wanted to see another battle much less be in one. How did just one Shoan do so much damage. No he wanted nothing to do with any of it any more. Then he saw the Queen turn towards him. He had no where to go running wouldn’t take him anywhere. Then Malcolm turned on the queen. The possession was fast and he was fighting it. Malcolm took out the sword starred at the queen and let her come to him. He lifted the hilt and she ran into the blade and fell.</div>
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China ran to Malcolm he could see the fear and the struggle. “let me help” he said. That’s when Malcolm did something unexpected, he relaxed. </div>
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Malcom relaxed and handed China the sword. The sword had no blade… no blade at all. Hundreds of people were cut down. So afraid of the sword and the word of the man, who was a good fighter China saw first hand, they succumb to the the blade of instant death. </div>
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China hesitated but saw blood dripping from Malcom’s mouth. He was bitting his tongue. China took the hilt. Malcolm grabbed China’s face. Hard. He stared in China’s eyes and the hilt got heavy and warm. China shoved the hilt to Malcolm’s chest feeling the blade cut through sinew and bone. Malcolm’s eyes rolled back and he died.</div>
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Other’s cleaned the mess. The bodies, now infected had to be burned and disposed of out side the walls. This was matter that couldn’t be returned to the cycle. But China just sat there. Sword of instant death in his hands and his hero next to him. Gone.</div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-35079539752291768622015-03-11T00:27:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.484-07:00Nel and The Eternal Library<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
Nel looked through the book of books, flipping page after page. Each item written in a clean and steady script. They made her eyes water. The words looked like they wanted to leap off the page ready to be of service. They flowed up and to the side stopping only when she thought she saw something interesting. Thousands of titles a second flowed before her. Each page turn taking her to a new idea.</div>
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“There seems to be more lore than history. Do any of them repeat?" she asked.</div>
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The man shaped thing she'd come to call Ink looked over. Several voices from several directions spoke. "No"</div>
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She looked at him for a moment. The dark eyes in ink black skin on a mouthless but strong face looked back at her. "Oh." She said suddenly and turned back to the book flipping another page. "It would explain the massive number of titles."</div>
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“Mysterious works mix with mundane," Ink spoke the cacophony of voices drove toward her and around her, "Some were written, some spoken, some were never even noticed but believed in. Each title tells the tail of the person who lived it." With so many words the voices became a tad discordant one voice trailing several words behind by the end.</div>
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"It's all autobiographical?" she asked.</div>
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"Not all. Water ship down has eight hundred thirty two versions. Created by those who believe it but read it differently or heard a different story."</div>
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"They believe a rabbit can talk?"</div>
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"They believe in the heart of the story, they took it in so deep that they began to write it while they read it. They let it write a bit of themselves."</div>
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"Oh" She didn't really understand but getting Ink excited about a topic made it hard to understand. Sometimes voices would be trailing him for hours. Enough to give her a headache.</div>
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"You think the way out of this building is in this book then?" She asked.</div>
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"No."</div>
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"Then why did you give it to me?”</div>
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"You stated plainly that you quit. This will help you pass time."</div>
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She looked at him, he at her. "Fine."</div>
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She began to look for names. Her Mother's, Father's, and the dog's. Each yielded hundreds of entries. Finally one name. A slight misspelling of the name her grandmother called her. It seemed a little more important than the others. The book was old. Very old. according to the record number it would be far in the back. She wrote down the name and number and handed it to Ink. With a nod he walked off to get the book. </div>
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To pass the time to Ink’s return she went to the map room. A book there was like the one in the other room, this one led to scrolls and folded maps. She assumed every map ever drawn or created was in this sister room. Like all of them they seemed to intertwine, rooms much bigger than logical space would allow. Many filled what should have been the same space.</div>
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She sat at the table littered with papers and scrolls, and opened the book. It listed places and times and phases of moons and so many different places she could be, but here she was stuck. As always the map it led her to showed her her school, her house the mall. It showed all the places she wanted to go to not the way out. A map to the mall would start in an arbitrary spot, and then twist and turn going around construction or sometimes cutting through someplace like her school, or the Miller’s house. </div>
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She even did her best to clear her mind and think of only the door that would let her out. Nothing. Finally she decided it was time to get ready for sleep. But first she needed a snack. She didn’t know how but reading kept her from getting hungry. It actually nourished her. She went back to the book of stories and started to think of the sappy romance dramas her Aunt was so fond of but instead it gave names and locations of of things that sounded like children’s stories. She read a few then the words wouldn’t stop. The flow and somehow the script seemed to be angry. She turned the page to to dark names and then Grimm cleared itself. Several more then a page full of Grimm. so she went to the earliest. That one didn’t seem right She then reached the 22nd Brothers Grimm. this one not rotten or copied by the brother’s. As luck would have it She could reach this one in about an hour. Last time she sent Ink to the flor where the book he was getting for her it took him nearly two days to get back. </div>
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She headed down the hall that would take her to the primary hall. The one that lead to all other halls. At the entrance of the hall she wanted stood another black figure. This one she called India. It was a female form. Some how she knew what Nel was looking for, and if ink wasn’t there India would lead Nel to the correct room. </div>
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A whisper started a different voice saying the same thing started and another until several were gathering to the point of maximum understanding. “Hello Nel, looking for some valuable sustenance?”</div>
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“Yes This odd version of The Brothers Grimm.” She held out the paper to India who didn’t look at it but turned and walked up the wrong hall. She led Nel to a different Grimm. One that didn’t fit the inscription but had the right number. She thanked the woman and walked hurriedly back to the hall she thought she was supposed to go down. It was quite a long walk. Her way was blocked twice by other ink black beings. She politely excused herself and walked around them. </div>
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The book she was looking for was missing. </div>
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She walked back to her table. And began to look through the book that India had given her. Jet, stood by the door something Ink used to do. The book was not what she wanted. He looked back in the book and held the number in her hand. The book didn’t show. She flipped the pages. until she was almost to the back of the book. She’d never been to the back of the book. Turning the pages never advanced toward the front of back. Even if she opened toward the back it just seemed to stay there or some how balance out with equal pages to each side. The book wanted her to see something. Where she ended up was a nearly black sheet. names and titles so crammed together they fought for visual space. </div>
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How am I supposed to read this? she thought to herself. Then she noticed a pattern. A solid unmoving set of black on black shapes. The title so much bigger than the description she could barely make that out, but nothing else was legible. She realized that this was the lost book section. Lost to the universe. letters, maps, and any other written record that has been lost to the world ended up in this section. </div>
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Another day passed she read the book and called on Jet to get her the whole library of Judy Blume YA books. <i>Then Again Maybe I Won’t</i> was one of her favorites. It made her feel a little dirty. She continued to study and read. Ink still hadn’t returned. </div>
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Finally she began to look for individual stories. She sent each librarian to get names like the one she’d sent Ink to find. India returned too quick. So she sent her on a longer errand. and then with four stories on four papers she went to find them. On the third story India appeared.</div>
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“You might get lost.” She said and the world felt like it was spinning. “We need to be with you so that doesn’t happen.”</div>
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Feeling like she was going to pass out she asked India to take her back to the reading room. As they walked Nel asked if there were any books that Judy Bloom wrote without writing them. The answer was yes. </div>
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“Take me there first. I want to read something no one else ever has.”</div>
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A slight change in India’s demeanor and the room settled and they headed to the hall with the secret books. Soul Books. </div>
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With secret book in hand Nel sat at the table and opened a small packet of paper and read the Grimm story. It was a retelling of the Minotaur and how he was trying to help by changing the path of the string laid by Theseus . The Minotaur was leading him to a land of everlasting joy. </div>
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This was not written by the Grimm Bothers, but had the same style. The second was much the same about a man following a trail of faith. Why was it so important for them to hide these from her. Even sin by destroying a book. This was the refuge of all knowledge. How could they ever think to destroy a book.</div>
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Nel went back to the maps and noticed a similarity to the paths. no matter the destination they were very close, not exact but close to the way each other one was drawn. She took one and looked at it. The Mall. She had three maps, all three were different but they lead to a different door each. So she looked and according to the map the first landmark was The Dairy, a milk store not far from the mall. Out of the room was the agricultural hall. She took it and then to Midas and main. She followed it and finally became lost at the car wash. There wasn’t a car wash there that she remembered. From one point to the next following the map and doing her best to match <i>real world </i>places with comparable items in the library.</div>
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If she missed it or couldn’t find it the map would fail and disintegrate. Once she’d almost made it to the destination but then she became lost. She wasn’t too worried one of the librarians would find her. A day passed and no one showed. Not too worried since she never needed food but there was a weird taste in her mouth and she started to look dirty, dark. She realized her skin was turning black. The food was the ink in the books. She was becoming a Librarian. </div>
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In the middle of the second day of being lost Ink found her and pulled her back. He gave her the book. She didn’t want to read it. She needed to get out before she changed to a point she couldn’t come back. She was down to three maps. </div>
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Ink tried to get her to stop telling him what she was doing but it was too late. What he knew they all knew and india decided to not leave her side. They never physically stopped her so she continued with her quest. Two maps left she started down the path recognizing several of the markers from before and began to understand how the library thought. </div>
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According to this map she was almost there so she turned and said good bye to Ink, stuck her tongue out at India and turned a corner. A glow beckoned her forward. The light began to look like doors. She found doors. They looked like the were Dillards doors. She opened them and heard canned music and smelled a stale crash of perfume. The maps were maps to the exact places she asked for</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-86389826717366657482015-03-10T03:00:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.518-07:00It's just a show I watch<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
“What the hell is your problem?” Kelly yelled </div>
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“Don’t let the door slam” Jeffery said nearly dropping the packages he held.</div>
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“Who cares about the door. Why are you being such a dick?”</div>
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“How am I being a dick?”</div>
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“I went out of my way, I worked for weeks to put that party together.”</div>
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“I said thank you. Help me with these.”</div>
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“No.”</div>
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“Kelly I can’t even see the table.”</div>
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“Fuck you.”</div>
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Jeffery looked at her between the handles of a gift bag and let go. The bags and gifts landed with a crash of breaking glass.</div>
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“What the hell?” She yelled again. </div>
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“I asked for your help you told me to fuck off so fuck you.”</div>
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“God you are such a child.”</div>
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“I got the message, or did you mean something else by throwing me a power ranger party.”</div>
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“YOU LOVE THE POWER RANGERS!”</div>
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“No I don’t. I like watching the second stupidest show on earth, its funny. I don’t <i>Love</i> it. You threw that party to embarrass and shame me for something I do that doesn’t require fermented hops” </div>
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“I wanted to make it something you liked.”</div>
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“I know you believe that but then why didn’t you dub me a Bronie, I occasionally watch Friendship is Magic?”</div>
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“You are not gay.”</div>
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“Really? That’s your reasoning I’m not gay so I can’t be a Bronie? I knew you to be callus but a homophobe?”</div>
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“You don’t give a shit about anybody but you do you?” Kelly accused</div>
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“Don’t put this back on me. I was embarrassed but I didn’t say anything, I did my best to keep smiling.”</div>
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“You told Dave the party was idiotic.”</div>
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“I was wrong.”</div>
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“That’s supposed to make it better, you telling me you were wrong?”</div>
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“No, I was wrong to think Dave would keep his mouth shut.”</div>
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Kelly pushed Marvin away from the whiskey that was coming from a broken bottle somewhere in the pile of gifts on the floor.</div>
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“That was the only good gift of the bunch.” Jeffery chinned at the puddle on the floor, “and the cat gets to enjoy it more than I do.”</div>
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“You don’t even drink.”</div>
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“yes but it was the only one that realized that I was a grown man.”</div>
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“You said you didn’t care that you knew people knew you watched The Power Rangers”</div>
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“I don’t, but you just made them believe it was my obsession or some passion.”</div>
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“It isn’t?”</div>
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“NO!” He put his hands on his face and growled. “I watch it after a tough day dealing with fucking red tape and emotional and angry people. Do you know how many kids get lost in the system? How many are treated as animals? Marvin is treated better than they are. People, good people want to adopt them but can’t because a cousin is in jail or some dumb shit like that. There is no reason behind most of the rules. Good kids with so much potential are going into gangs and crime because they can’t believe that this world will work for them. Of course I watch the power rangers. The good and bad guys are easy to identify and everyone is kind.”</div>
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“Then why were you such a dick at the party?”</div>
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“How was I a dick?”</div>
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“You were rude. You gave all the gifts looks.”</div>
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“Looks? What kind of looks?”</div>
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“Like the smelled bad.”</div>
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“Well I’m sorry, I tried to be kind.”</div>
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“Carrie was hurt.”</div>
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“Carrie needs to see a therapist.” </div>
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“She’s my cousin.”</div>
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“And that changes anything?”</div>
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“She gave you a full set.”</div>
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“No she gave me five colors Three from R.PM. one from Nija storm, which I’ll admit is </div>
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impressive, and one that looked like it was some dollar store knock off.”</div>
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“She tried and you just had to tell her it was wrong.”</div>
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“She got a transforming robot.”</div>
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“It looked like the others.”</div>
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“It was a robot, and it was orange. I won’t get into how wrong that is.”</div>
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“See you do care, you just wanted to be a dick.”</div>
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“Yes I care, if I didn’t I wouldn’t watch it. I by no means like it enough to want toys or for others to think I’m obsessed”</div>
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“You keep saying you don’t care but now that I’ve tried to give you something it all of a sudden matters what people think?”</div>
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“It’s always mattered how people treat me. I’m like everyone else, I want them to like me for me you gave them something to hold over my head and from now on I’m going to be the guy who likes Power Rangers”</div>
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“I don’t get what’s wrong with that?”</div>
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“Nothing, if I liked Power Rangers.”</div>
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“But you just said you do.”</div>
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“Fine I’ll make sure I’ll throw you a big bang party, tell them that it’s the only show you watch.”</div>
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“I like Big Bang Theory.”</div>
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“But are you obsessed?”</div>
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“Of course not.”</div>
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“It’s all you watch. you have action figures and all the tees that Sheldon wears.”</div>
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“I do not.”</div>
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“Until tonight I didn’t have a single Power Ranger anything.”</div>
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“You had that sticker.”</div>
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“A sticker, that’s all, A sticker put in a gift as a Joke by a friend who thought it would be funny.”</div>
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“you kept it.”</div>
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“I kept the joke, the gesture of friendship.”</div>
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“I can’t do this you aren’t making any sense. I think you are just being an ass.”</div>
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“Fine. Thank you for the party and for helping me to realize that I’m just a joke to you. I think I’ll let you clean up the mess and sleep on the couch It’s my birthday and I’m just a child after all.”</div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-37593241865250843862015-03-10T01:00:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.487-07:00Learned talent:SCU<div>
No one in my family could ever cast a spell, enchant a sword or rock, we even got simple superstition wrong. To have Talent in my family was un-heard of. I knew this but I tried anyway. I was given fifty pence at a fair to spend on treats and wondered into the Magi stalls. I just wanted to look. </div>
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I never saw such amazing things. Necklaces that glowed, barrettes and hair bands that kept water from falling directly on the wearer. One stall sold soap that claimed to keep a man from sweating another had shoes that would fix your posture. </div>
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My dad caught me looking at a fortune teller's tent. "you goin' in?"</div>
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I felt like I'd been caught eating the offerings at the family alter. I just shook my head.</div>
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"If you want, go for it, but two words of advice." My dad's advice was always amazing. "First when choosing a teller never go to the most posh or the most rundown. The posh will just take your money and not tell you anything but what you want to hear. They don't have power." He took in the surrounding tellers then added, "This one you're looking as seems okay, you chose well."</div>
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My chest swelled. Any time my dad praised me was like Hamnset himself kissing my feet. </div>
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"Second, he continued, "If you go to a real one and he tells you, you are locked in. This might not be bad, but I, think a man should choose his fait and damn, what Hamnset thinks."</div>
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The mild blasphemy was my dad's only vice. He never liked people telling him what to do, and what did he care what The Creator thought, if it was up to us then we needed to choose and if not it didn't matter what we chose so why not do what we want. "A man finds his own path. His family will always be a home."</div>
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We looked at each other, I think he was taking my measure to see what I was thinking so I stood there trying to be big. He smiled and mussed my hair. "Meet me at the fights at noon." I looked up at him and shook my head.</div>
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"Talkative man, your pa." I jumped and saw a short man only about a foot taller than me, His wrinkly face and wild white hair contrasted greatly with his clear almost emerald eyes. He finished clearing the tent door to reveal a Do-shin robe the marks worked into it looked like swirling vines.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Is he good?" I asked. pointing to the tent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The man looked back at the tent coming to a conclusion said, "I'm one of the best. I can tell you anything you want me too. I prefer the truth, most don't."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He had such a kind demeanor. I almost gave in. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
"No, I think you should take you're pa's advice. I could set you on a great path but He believes in you and I think you should follow that."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I just nodded and smiled. I started to turn and then asked. "Is Do-shin fun?" </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He laughed. "come back after the fights. I won't charge but I think you'll want to know more."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He then with out another word he walked over to the offal cart to get a sausage. I turned and pocketed my 50¢.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My dad had a sausage and a beer for me when I found him at the fights. The fair was the only time I could drink the stuff. I liked it, not the beer but the fact Dad would treat me like a man. It was a small cup and have since found out that it was watered down, but I was drinking beer with dad. Osmund, Tate, and Hector, my brothers, were all older and didn't want to stay with dad. They had girls, so did Darla, Dad didn't like it but tried to love her. The other girls were with mom. so I got dad to myself. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He didn't ask if I had seen the Fortune teller or not. It was my thing and he let me have it.</div>
<div>
The fights however were amazing. There were exhibitions of sword fights and wrestling. Then the main event. A battle for the prize. They called the fighters and the second, the challenger was the old man. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He did the most amazing things. He fended off all magical and physical attacks with a simple filck of the wrist or a kick. He did these fire fist things that burnt one mans clothes clean off. He never failed. The crowd was angry. This little old man beating men twice his size. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
He only took 10% of the prize money and gave the rest of it to the nearby orphanage. I was so impressed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As predicted I was back at the tent. I kept ringing the bell but no one answered. I was getting frustrated when I heard "No one can answer if they aren't there." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With a sigh, I turned and spouted a deluge of praise and awe. My dad just stood back and laughed. "What say you?" the old man said to my father.</div>
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<div>
"He's too young for any kind of study like that. Three years, if he's still interested I'm more an happy to let him be to his dreams."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"What say you?" </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was torn, I wanted to know more and I wanted to do good by my dad. "Can you teach me anything while you're still here?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He told me that I had to start with learning to cultivate my inner Szo. To learn the art I had to control my self. He sold me a book and showed me the basics of breath and then I never saw him again. The book, however, discussed the ideas of magic and flow. It started me on [] and forms of concentration. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I did them most every day for the next three years. Each year I went to the fair to find the mysterious man. With no note of him I became frustrated and stopped. until I was in my mid teens, a school opened and Pete and I enrolled. My father couldn't afford tuition so I hired on as janitor. Pete's family were able to pay for him so he'd hang out and talk to me while I cleaned. Sometimes he'd quiz me while I swept or raked the athlete field and cleaned out the animal mess that would creep it's way in. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One night Pete was fuming about something that was in fact quite fair but he didn't think so. I started to show him some [] and he calmed down. We continued to do this for the next several months until on night Pete began to glow. He started to leap and bounce like a character in one of the stories in books. He had talent, he confessed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"That's why my family sent me here. They want me to become a mage." It made sense. I still wanted to learn how the old man did what he did. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Pilla saw us that night, He'd been smoking on the roof of the building —Probably something he pilfered from the suply closet— and challenged Pete to a fight the next day. Pete started to resist but fell for the cunning use of the word chicken and attacked. Pilla, who seemed to have a pretty good handle of his skill, was literally wiping the floor with Pete. This was funny to be sure but when pete was thrown agains the wall with a crack it was time to stop it. I jumped in and using a focus technique stood in front of Pilla. My heart was still racing but I had focus and with skill I didn't know I had I fought the creep. I was hit hard several times. finally I gathered energy and imagined fire. The world began to freeze and I woke in the infirmary. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I heard my father talking. School was more than a day's Journey so I had no idea how long I'd been out. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
"I've never seen talent in him. Our family hasn't had talent as far back as we can remember."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Well the Stuart boy has frostbite on most of his exposed skin, we were lucky to have a Healer visiting. It was a powerful blast."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
From there I was given test after test, never being able to produce even the smallest of magic fields. I was test negative for power. A recruiter came because he'd heard of the incident and wanted to see for himself. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
"How do you think this happened?" He asked.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I showed him. I gathered power and not knowing what to do with it i tossed it in the fire place instantly freezing the small burn in there. Embarrassed I hid my hands.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
That is a rare talent. What power forms do you know?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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I had to ask what he meant and then I showed him the Seven Points and told him of the book. </div>
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<br /></div>
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"Who's the author?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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"I think it says Weenta Szau."</div>
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That is a rare book. Do you still have it?"</div>
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"The goat ate it." I half lied. The goat had started eating it but I found it. Very little was ruined. I put in notes to replace the few pages that were missing.</div>
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"Shame."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
He talked with my father and i was on my way to Lupido Caster University.</div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-48987832479964274352015-03-09T12:32:00.001-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.496-07:00Then There Was Terri :SCU<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It was noon and the trees had that quality to them that all trees get during a full moon. I was heading to the other side. The point where the University grounds ended and the wild forest began. It was still safe several hundred yards in and was even safer during daylight but we were still forbidden to go beyond the Second Line. Of course that meant that everyone did. </span></div><div><br></div><div>I was heading to my favorite hill. The one I practiced my Seven Points and rooting. I also did homework and took naps out here. It was my hill. Until one day I saw a creature of astounding presence floating about three span above the ground. Her hair flowed in the energy she was moving around her. It was fantastic. </div><div><br></div><div>I coughed and she fell from her thought perch.</div><div>“Damn.” a voice much deeper than I expected said.</div><div>“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt but wanted to let you know that you are on my hill.”</div><div>“Your hill?” The blond hair rose to show that it was attached to a pale white forehead with some of the deepest blue yes. Soft and sweet. A straight nose and the neatest patch of stubble I’d ever seen. I began to wonder if I’d switch sides. This man was beautiful.</div><div>“Um. Y-Yes, my hill. I come here every day.” I tried to shaw off the urge to flirt. </div><div>“I see and this is the ‘finders keepers’ law then?”</div><div>“Well I’m sure I leave my energy here. With an amazing Zoan like that I’m sure you’d felt it.”</div><div>He looked at his hands rubbed his stubble and grabbed his crotch then shook his head. “Yeah, I really did.”</div><div>He seemed frustrated rather than angry.</div><div>“Well tell you what, you Zoan with me and I’ll leave this hill to you in the future.”</div><div>It had been awhile since I sat with anyone and this would be embarrassing since the most I ever floated was about a hand’s width and that was after a weekend retreat. “Well I’m still not all that good”</div><div>“That’s fine. I only need to give your energy back.”</div><div>“I’m sorry?”</div><div>“Trust me.”</div><div>“Okay. Then you want to get a drink at McLain’s?”</div><div>“Um.” he seemed a bit worried. “I’m not gay.”</div><div>“you have the style to be but neither am I.” I wasn’t going to say that what I was feeling made me wonder. I’d never felt this way around another guy.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>The next day I woke to a very loud “What the fuck?” I jumped and almost immediately fell back clutching my head. The pounding was excruciating. I nudged Terri and saw what Pete, my roommate was so shocked about. One of the nicest examples of manhood standing proud against a six-pack that you only see in pictures.</div><div>“Oh, this. It’s not what you think.” </div><div>“Dude, what ever depravity you want to experiment with is up to you.” Pete said covering his eyes and walking back to the common. </div><div>I jumped out of bead looked at terri then decided that if I was going to try to be okay with it then I’d be okay with it. So I kissed the forehead exposed between the locks of gold and pulled on my robe. </div><div>“Pete, it’s not what you think.” I said.</div><div>“Hey, do what you want.” He didn’t even look at me.</div><div>“Oh Fuck.” I heard from the bedroom.</div><div>I turned to see Terri dashing around the room putting on pants and shirt, grabbed his boots and headed out the door. He stopped and said “I had a wonderful time last night. If I can shake this off I’ll be playing at three o’clock,” he paused and added, “if you want to come.” and was gone before I could respond.</div><div>“You really fucked the shit didn’t you.”</div><div><i>what?</i> “What?” Then it struck me, of course he’d think that. “No, nothing happened Just some kissing and touching. Hell I was so drunk I could barely get half mast.”</div><div><br></div><div>“So you popped your cherry then?” He gaged a little. </div><div><br></div><div>I realized his conclusion was the natural one. I’d think the same too and even though I’m sure I’d be a little uncomfortable who am I to judge. As for the Cherry reference, “Wow, I knew you tended toward the conservative but I didn’t think you’d be an ass.” I didn’t even put on shoes I just left to shower.</div><div><br></div><div>Pete kept giving me the cold shoulder and stopped inviting me to things. Terri had a full pass. Fraternities and sororities were always happy to invite us. I was worried that pete was too much of a jerk get over what he saw but as Terri put it “He needs time, and who knows maybe I’ll fix my problem and he’ll see the real me.”</div><div><br></div><div>“We’ve been friends since middle school. Even before that, Our fathers worked neighboring farms. It’s just frustrating to think that he doesn’t want to give me a chance to explain.”</div><div><br></div><div>“you said he’d be at the Zappa Zappa Chew party tonight? She said.” </div><div><br></div><div>“Yeah. Well keep your energy off of me and we’ll see him tonight.”</div><div><br></div><div>So that’s what we did. Terri was amazing. Sure it was weird waking up to not only a guy but such a vision of a guy, but there was nothing wrong with it, was there?” </div><div><br></div><div>I made it to the frat house a few minutes early, grabbed a beer and started talking to Morgan. Morgan was like Terri, they’d even tried dating but all they really had in common was their affliction. Right now Morgan was filling out her blouse quite nicely, her trousers were tight around the hips but as expected she was holding her tosser ball. A group of guys warding off unwanted advances. </div><div><br></div><div>“What’s with the boobs?” I asked.</div><div><br></div><div>“Stella.” She said.</div><div><br></div><div>“The Stella? Volures?”</div><div><br></div><div>“The one and only.”</div><div><br></div><div>“Damn. I hear she rides the fence.”</div><div><br></div><div>“She rode my post all right.” </div><div>“Wow. So how long?” I asked waving at her shape.</div><div><br></div><div>“Never know with the big O.” A few practices and some Zoan mediation near Jazmin should clear it. </div><div><br></div><div>“Well as long as you’re good for the game.” I said.</div><div><br></div><div>“Nah, I can still play. They know it’s an affliction. I’ll just have to Patrol instead of Back. No big.”</div><div><br></div><div>It hurt a bit. Morgan had a group around him that understood and supported him. So did Terri and her group. Me, I had Pete and he won’t even talk to me. Dick.</div><div><br></div><div>Pete came up the group, not realizing I was there. He greeted the guys, tried to flirt with Morgan, who told him in so certain words that she would cut his parts off. He barely gave me a chin greeting. Then Terri walked up. Her long blond hair and soft eyes. And that amazing figure. </div><div><br></div><div>“You done with your experiment?” he said.</div><div><br></div><div>“No, Pete. I’m not experimenting. This is Terri, I tried to tell you she was the guy you saw in my room.”</div><div><br></div><div>“What?”</div><div><br></div><div>“She has Andromitosis.” Said Morgan.</div><div><br></div><div>“Ah that’s gross.” Pete said.</div><div><br></div><div>“Well you don’t have to deal with it so don’t worry about it.”</div><div><br></div><div>“No man, I get that they can’t help it but not knowing what you’re going to fuck?” </div><div><br></div><div>Even for Pete this was a bit much. Then I noticed his eyes. I had to stop the guys from beating the crap. I quietly cast a suppresser and he changed quickly, “I mean… Um.” He looked lost. Then at me knowing that I knew he’d tripped again, “I gotta go.” and he left. </div><div><br></div><div>The guys started talking about him, I wasn’t sure what I should say I could defend him, but he wasn’t that far from sober so he wasn't too far from normal. A suppressor would only last a few seconds anyway, it only faked sobriety so he'd be back to his full ass self in moments. Better he stay away.</div><div><br></div><div>“I’m glad I stole your hill.” The words snapped me out of my head.</div><div><br></div><div>“You are?”</div><div><br></div><div>“yeah, It’s hard for people to deal with my issue. You stood up for me with your friend. I see how it hurts.” she grabbed my arm a little tighter .</div><div><br></div><div>“Pete's being an ass, of course I'd stand up for you. I also need to stand up for him. He's having issues and isn't seeing too straight. So, i'll give a little leeway." I squinted through a tiny gap between my forefinger and thumb.</div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">“Well lets dance and have fun. I spent the day with the girls did a group Zoan then talked sexploits. Who know maybe you’ll wake with me in the morning.”</span></div><div><br></div><div>I smiled from my gut, “That sounds wonderful and hey, the other you isn’t so bad. He’s a good guy. You may not realize it but you pretty much go full dude. He, you, are a great friend. Maybe Pete will get that.”</div><div><br></div><div>Terri and I spent the rest of the year together. She found an experimental treatment in the Orient, and left at the end of term, but I’m sure she’ll be back. Pete? Well you know about Pete.</div><div><br></div>DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-90915515749978649192015-03-08T18:12:00.000-07:002015-03-26T08:42:39.521-07:00At University: my adventures as SCUThe potion bubbled and steamed. I didn’t think it should be green. At least not that color of green. The best I can define it as was a brilliant pea soup. Phlegm that had an internal light. I also didn’t think that it should smell of roasted peppers. It made me hungry.<br>
<br>
“Well,” Pete said, “I think this should do it.”<br>
<br>
I looked over the ingredients, err, components — Madame Lupido hated the word “ingredient”. “This is not a recipe.” She’d say. I’d disagree but no to her face — finding everything satisfactory. We’d done everything right, as far as we knew and this was going to be amazing; if it worked.<br>
<br>
After the required resting time we made the priming circle and did our dance, err, ritual maneuvers, and the contents of the cauldron rose spread and landed in the circle. We both put a single drop of blood into the now vacant pot and opened out minds. I stood there waiting. Pete began to moan. Then I felt it too. My body began to tingle. It was like tying a string too tight around a finger then letting it loose, only on my entire body. My head began to swirl and light trailed. I was not happy.<br>
<br>
After several minutes I saw the demon. It wasn’t that big. Not that it mattered what size it was, a demon actually had no size or actually no shape. it instead was what we made it to deal with in our reality. My energies didn’t lile this thing. Pete and I gathered our selves fin time to hold the demon at bay and keep him from taking us over. Then Is rated to feel the happy. It was nice but I didn’t feel right. I didn’t like the off kilter feeling. I was done so I said my counter spell. The demon wavered stuck between my rejection and Pete’s desire to keep it around, then vanished.<br>
<br>
“That was amazing!” Pete squealed after the energies dissipated.<br>
<br>
I had to agree. I didn’t hate the feeling but I didn’t like it either.<br>
<br>
We quickly gathered our supplies and stuffed the cauldron in the corner of the room and wondered out into the campus and to dinner. I was starving.<br>
<br>
It would have been nice if Pete had stopped talking about it. He said he could still feel some of the effects. I could too and was a bit concerned. Tripping Demon is something we students are supposed to do. It’s part of our growing process, or so they say. This was just uncomfortable.<br>
<br>
For days he tried to get me to go again. The ingredients were too expensive and besides as fun as it was it was also too disturbing for me.<br>
<br>
It took almost a week before I really started to think heavily about summoning an Opyeit demon again, he was even talking about getting Heru’win. He finally convinced me to summon Egst’asy. That was amazing and thoroughly disconcerting. <br>
<br>
I got lost in spending time with Teressa and my studies. I’d made ia breakthrough in casting and sorcery. Turns out I’m a rare algorplasm. Frost fire is hard to do and I feel great doing it, exhausting. Pete is pretty much a straight up agroplasm. I had to take extra hours at Brodricks to keep my self in supplies. So I didn’t really notice Pete.<br>
<br>
I should have spent a little time on him. We were at McLain’s taking a break and chatting over a few pints. Pete came it looking strange. He looked greasy. I offered to walk him home. On the way he started to shake. His eyes started glowing and he grew. The demon was there.<br>
<br>
I didn’t feel the hit or my feet leaving the ground. I did feel the rock I landed on. The white flash of my entire body wanting to scream passed in time for me to doge the greedy form of my friend passing. He took in too much of the demon. He was possessed by it. The heat coming from him was intense.<br>
<br>
I stumbled to my feet and began the quick grounding and energy building exercise so I could fight back.<br>
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I pulled my wand out of my wand pocket and cast a binding spell that failed completely on him. Next I swung the wand in a cutting motion it did nothing more than cut the clothes not pete.<br>
<br>
Pete roared and in a move that seemed much to graceful sent a waft of green fire at me. I was too late casting the shield spell. It took and I only got mildly burned but my wand was toast. I ran right at him and dodged as he reached for me. A quick roll and I cast ice fire. I shouldn’t have but I was scared and it was the first thing to come to me. He blocked but like my shield attempt he took a lot of damage. I could see smoke rising from his arm. Steam actually, his heat and my cold.<br>
<br>
We only fought for a few minutes but it felt like hours.<br>
<br>
Finally I let him catch me. He never cast when he could grab. When he did I flared my cold right into him. I dropped his core temp by a few degrees and he passed out.<br>
<br>
He was fine but the demon had a hold of him and he’d have to fight it for ever. As long as he didn’t Trip again he’d be fine. The demon would call to it’s core, call for unity but it would overtake and kill Pete. I can’t imaging the struggle he has to go through but for now he’s fine and maybe in a few years the demon will be so diminished that he won’t have to fight the pull quite so hard.<br>
<br><br>DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-5862959550890955742015-03-06T21:21:00.000-08:002015-03-26T08:42:39.505-07:00You Can't Polish a Turd<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">I used to write because I wanted to express my grief. I wanted to show that I had suffered, was suffering. I believed that I had all the things a person needed to be a great writer. Then I did the stupid thing. I began to accept. I accepted that I was alone. Would be for the rest of my life. It’s not as pathetic as it sounds It’s hard and I’m sad but it it isn’t a tale of self pity at all.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m accepting that life will never look like I want it to. That is even worse than the ill perception of my aloneness. I say that because not being able to influence life to the direction I want it to be is nothing more than terrifying for me. I also accept that there is no doubt that I suck at a person. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Let’s talk about this last one.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yesterday I was standing in line at StarFucks when I saw this lady, I’m not sure if you remember Henrietta Hippo, but if you do then I can easily say this was her. No really, this woman had to have a thyroid problem. Huge is an understatement. She kept sighing and gasping. I lost my desire for coffee at all. I was in line and I knew as soon as I could get my mind off of this woman I’d start to want my white caramel mocha, half the pumps. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A normal person, whether or not they wanted to admit it or not, would have been disturbed by the sight. I order my beverage and listen closely to her order. A venti campfire Frappachino with whip and caramel.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Okay, This is very hypocritical of me but I began to get angry with her. I mean here this woman is dying before my eyes and she insists on continuing her plight. I had the gaul at my seventy extra to, while holding mine, look at the cup in her hand, yes I waited for her to get her order, and shake my head and say, “Really?” Then walk out. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I sat down on a bench across the street. I had time before work and decided to sit for a while. She came out. Cane in one hand drink in the other. I noticed she was slouching a little more than before. She didn’t make it very far. She leaned against the wall between the StarFucks and Einstein’s and then threw the sugar bomb before sinking to the ground in tears. She cried these big heaving sobs. She kept touching her body and looking at herself. Her arms, her legs that couldn’t cross. Legs that people just stepped over as they walked by. She stopped the big sobs and sat there wiping her eyes every now and then.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I left my coffee on the bench and walked to work. I’m not going to laude the fact that I didn’t stop thinking of the woman all day. I mean I do know what she’s going through. How incredibly hard it is to stop the hunger. The evil nagging that haunts you all day long. How even if you are not hungry you need to eat because that is when you feel something other than the giant hole eating you. Maybe not. Maybe for her it’s something else but for me…</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I know how it is. I’m not nearly as bad a she was but I know and still I did what I did. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I can accept that I am shit in human form. Some people would like to say there is a reason and that if I could find the core pain I’d be able to heal and become a better person. Some say if I find Jesus. No a shit is a shit and I am one. So do I even deserve to have any blessings?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Regardless of what or why it is, I hold my self responsible for who I am.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It makes sense that I’m alone. I see myself choosing it actively and besides who wants someone who is as basically cruel as I am, cruel and cowardly. I could have apologized or helped her up. I could have even offered her my hot coffee to throw at me for being a hypocritical dick. Instead I stopped going there. It was my StarFucks — so named because they fired me for reporting that several of the employees were dumping the hard change in the tip jar instead of giving it to the customers — and now I go to a plain Starbucks a little further in the opposite direction just to make sure I never see her again.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I used to write because I wanted to express my grief. I wanted to show that I had suffered, was suffering. I believed that I had all the things a person needed to be a great writer. Then I did the stupid thing. I began to accept. I began to get clear that I don’t have grief. I have self pity and a sense of entitlement that borders, maybe even crashes through, narcissism. Now I write not to express my grief but instead to grieve my humanity. I have everything I need to write but it looks nothing like I thought it would.</span></div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-67911911171135600722015-03-05T21:27:00.002-08:002015-03-26T08:42:39.511-07:00Turning Tables<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">They arrived at Dragon Karaoke at 8:30. It was Sam’s favorite Karaoke Box and Billy was very nervous. He had a song to sing and he was going to do it. Most of the LARP group was there and as both Sam and Jake had said “Just make it a role, play the part, You’ll be fine.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So when they got their room Billy took the sword in his hand. He had to see it as a sword. The special jacket, a magic cloak, +3 protection from dispell. His lucky tee under the special, "man catcher" pink shirt; that special pink that girls won't wear. His shoes, he pulled them from the back of his closet and took them to the man on the corner to have them endued with a potion of traction. Now, into battle.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Dude what number?" Jake asked</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He knew the number. Came here, practiced for hours. The song was perfect. "Thirty three-twenty seven-one."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Holding the obnoxioulsy large remote Jake entered the number. The karaoke box got quiet and a strange video with elephants started on the screen. Quickly he grabbed and tossed back his potion of courage and waited for the familiar beat to start. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This was it. He was going to conquer the creature keeping him from happiness. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Woke up sweating from a dream</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>With a different kind of feeling, oh</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>All day long my heart was beating</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Searching for the meaning, oh</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Hazel eyes, I was so color blind</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>We were just wasting time, uh uh babe</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>For my whole life, we never crossed the line</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Only friends in my mind, but now I realize</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It was always you</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Can't believe I could not see it all this time</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>All this time</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It was always you</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Now I know why my heart wasn't satisfied</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Satisfied</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It was always you, you</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>No more guessing who</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Looking back now I know it was always you*</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He looked right at Sam. He'd seen him as a squire, a servant. something not someone. This song by a group he'd always discredited, like he'd done to Sam, was speaking for him. He sang it with all his heart. He knew how Sam felt — now. He realized how much he'd taken that guy for granted. He finally looked passed the surface and knew that he'd wasted so much time. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sam looked surprised. Something Billy never seen in his friend. All the years they LARPED, side by side Sam never flinched. When Billy said he was moving to Japan with Alex or at any other time Sam took everything in stride. This was strange. He made it to the middle of the song. Tears were running from both their eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The song almost over Sam grabbed the song book, flipped quickly through the pages. He erased the que and punched in 12287. Adele <i>Turning Tables. Bill</i>y looked back and forth from the screen to Sam. Sam had eyes wide and worried but a smile a cheshire would be proud of. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The song ended and Sam jumped up gave Billy an awkward hug and grabbed the microphone away. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Another awkward non sequitur video started, this one had floating fish. Every one laughed and Billy rubbed his eyes and began to sing.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Close enough to start a war</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>All that I have is on the floor</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>God only knows what we're fighting for</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>All that I say, you always say more</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I can't keep up with your turning tables</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Under your thumb, I can't breathe</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>So I won't let you close enough to hurt me</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>No, I won't ask you, you to just desert me</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I can't give you what you think you gave me</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It's time to say goodbye to turning tables</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>To turning tables</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Under haunted skies I see you oh</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Where love is lost, your ghost is found</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I braved a hundred storms to leave you</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down*</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He finally broke. He put the microphone on the table and exited the room.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No one spoke. Jake made Billy stay and went after Sam. He came back about five minutes later. "He's not coming back." he said and looked right at Billy "You okay?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Billy spent the rest of the night drinking potions of forgetfulness.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This adventure ended poorly. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">*<i>actual lyrics. I copied them.</i></span></div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-22142484407023815242015-03-05T21:08:00.000-08:002015-03-05T21:08:12.904-08:00Angels<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When Marcus called me I didn't realize that I'd be driving a thousand miles to the middle of middle america to help him clear out his mother's house. to put it on the market. I almost said no. but even now I remember all the times he stood by me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The sun is setting to to the left. So big flitting through the trees. It'll disappear in a few minutes but it's light filtering through the dust and pollen makes me think of the first time I knew I was in love with this guy. Like now the trees flashed pass to the beat of the son on the radio. Visually keeping the beat. Marcus was driving and I was being taken in by the light always one step ahead of us, playing the trees. I don't really know why but I started to cry. I tried to hide it and found out latter when he asked me why did I even know that he'd seen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"I was thinking of angels." I'd said</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Angels?"</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Yeah, the light looked like it was coming from heaven and I wanted to see angels." By this time I was starting to tear up again from the embarrassment."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Sounds nice." was all he said and lead me in to the restaurant. We both had smothered supremes. I didn't like Guacamole back then. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I think I'm almost to the gas station slash restaurant where we were snowed in at for three days one screwed up spring break when we were supposed to be going to his mothers house. He'd been distracted the whole trip. and when we realized we weren't going to have time to get there and back he began to be himself again. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I pull in to the weed covered parking lot. The lights, those old incandescent ones that they had in the 50s, still glowed even though the building was dark. Probably not the smartest thing for me to get out and snoop but I've been driving for nearly eight hours and I needed to streach my legs and pee. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I grab a flashlight and begin to walk around the building. The windows were broken, so much of the diner inside was in ruins but the stool that nearly broke my heart was still there. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We were having trouble seeing and the windows were not giving up their frost no matter what we tried. Bully, and Tray, were in the back spraying a torrent of gay panic in the form of inappropriate jokes and touching of one another. I didn't care much for them but they were on two of Marcus' teams. All three were in college on scholarship and most days Marcus seemed to accept that that was enough to be close to them. Me, I just accepted the vulgarity as immaturity and let them be. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We saw the Diner and were in need of fuel anyway so we decided to stop. While eating a trucker who was heading out as we were going in returned with the news that the road was closed ahead. We waited. The waitress was snowed in as well and Bully surprised us with his culinary skill. He did things with Spam that would make the gods swear of ambrosia for eternity. Bacon be damned. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Toward the end of the third day Marcus and Tray got into an argument that came to blows. I didn't know what it was about but when every one calmed down Marcus' mood was more foreboding than the weather. Dinner came —made by mel the cook — and I finally got Marcus to talk. He told me he was dropping out of school. He couldn't take it anymore. I didn't understand and I didn't want to pry. Like him I just wanted to accept. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We left early on the fourth day. No one talked. I couldn't if I'd tried. I thought I knew what was going on but then he told me he was going to join the service. He was tired of not feeling like a man and wanted to "Be all he could be". I tried to lighten the situation by telling him that he actually wanted to "Aim High". It was the wrong thing to do. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I do my business and get in my car. I back out and the headlights pass over the stool…</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I know I shouldn't drive straight through but adrenalin and excitement have me more awake than expected. My wife won't like that I took our daughter's car seat or that I have a relic with who knows what encrusted on it rolling in the back with said seat. I can wash it up.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I get a burger, fries and a very uncoffee-like coffe at a Wendy's drive through, the strange beefiness taste doing more than the caffeine to keep me awake. The pulsing yellow lines doing their best to counter the food.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"I'm sorry man." He said inturrupting the silence. We'd dropped the other two off and were walking back to our dorm.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"'Bout what?"</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"All of this. Bully was pissed that I hadn't told Steff."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Stephanie was Trey's sister, Marcus was leaving in a week. Before finals, and hadn't even told her that he was thinking about leaving. Inside I was dying. I'd never been away from this my best friend. Since we met in third grade. He'd alway been there for me and I confided everything in him. I didn't know what hurt me more, his leaving or not telling me. Trey was right to be mad. I loved the guy. Probably even in a way that Steff did, maybe not, but I hurt. She was going to be devastated. I didn't expect anything from him. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I finally arrive at his mother's house. It's four in the morning and I hear the yelling. She's relentless. I roll up the window to block the noise and went to sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The door opened and i jumped. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Shit dude," he said not caring that I'd just hit my head on the roof, "That bitch is going to be the death of me." </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He looked like shit. Well he looked great. Where I, and most men at our age were settling from the youthful V shape to a more settled B shape he was still holding up in all the ways a man wishes he could. His face however looked like death. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Hello to you too." I said. He smiled and dug in the Wendy's bag to see if there were any unnoticed fries. "Still hates you huh?"</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Yeah." His eyes lost a little shine, the sides of his mouth fell a bit. "She hit Chris." 'No fucking sin spawn is going to desecrate my home," He said in a high nasally voice.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"She didn't?" </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"I took him to Your mom's, I hope that was okay."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Yeah sure."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"She thinks I'm after her money to pay for AIDS medicine or drugs."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"How'd you get her to stop yelling."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"someone gave me valium for her coffee. I put it in her sweet tea. I think she only drank it so she could keep yelling at me."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Damn, Sorry man."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Marcus turned to me. His eyes Watering. And he started crying. I held him. When he left the Air Force, he'd done so with Walter. They were a wonderful couple. And the dick still didn't tell me until I asked in front of my mother one christmas. They'd taken to spending time with my family since Walter was an orphan and Marcus' mother had disowned him for "some reason". He didn't talk to me for four years, then two passed with him being sketchy and I finally just got tired. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"What's this, he said holding the gift I'd given to him and Walter.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"A frame, I want a picture of you two. Take it and then give it back to me." Walter was never a good actor, Marcus however almost had me fooled with his denial.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"Who's the bottom?" my mother asked. Such tact.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The next year they decided to have a child. They talked Walter's best friend to be a surrogate for them. She and I connected. She had the baby and we got married. Chris is special to me. He's like my wife's son. A donated egg. Marcus had to fight to keep him. His mother didn't want an innocent child to be raised by servant's of satan. DNA showed that he was Walter's and so she'd not have anything to do with him after that.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He'd spent so much money trying to keep Chris that when Walter fell ill they sold everything they had to help him. He died and then Marcus had to fight to keep Chris because he wasn't his biological Father. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">His mom, the aforementioned bitch, testified against him. Things started getting back to normal and then he got a call, his mom was going to loose her house. She'd begun showing signs of dementia and had stopped paying bills. She fought him every step of the way.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I sat in the car, Marcus' head in my lap. I'm sure it looked like I'd peed my pants. I was about to if he didn't wake soon. It was my stomach growling that woke him. Right at the wrong time. A police officer had just pulled up and saw his head raise.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We explained everything. The cop shook his head and said he and his partner were having similar issues with her parents. He wasn't jewish. Finally we were able to get her out of the house, with some help. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When he saw the stool I'd taken from the diner in the back of my car he laughed and said simply, "Angels" </span></div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-21995520948254392902015-03-03T21:50:00.000-08:002015-03-06T07:19:13.637-08:00Gin<div>
Gin walked through the smoke machine fog, lights flashing in a steady rhythm to interrupt his path with a seemingly solid pillar of light. His suit was for all intents painted on. The magic used to dress him was old and archaic. It was a potion, poured on him then like a living creature it flowed and formed hugging all his parts, painting him smoothing out where instructed and hiding those bits purposely cupped or taped to look like a second flesh that didn't exactly show the parts that people were still ashamed to admit were there. </div>
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A second layer structured and formed by a Couturisan trained in mystical Couture. He or she, androgyny seeming to be the preference for those who trained in the craft, shaping it to the latest fashion in sport coats. His belt, black and heavy with so many items as to be made unsuitable for it's original purpose. And boots so polished that they looked like glass. They rose to hug his mid calf. </div>
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This was it. This was his chance to shine. The trial had begun and what ever the outcome it would decide the rest of his life. He'd put off the trial so long that he'd been given transmutation orders. He had this one chance to make something of himself and he hoped he was ready. </div>
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First it was a lady in red. She came out and grabbed him the dance steps obvious. This was a tango. He turned and countered by raising his arms and lifted his knees one at a time in an exact counter to her high step march. Left, right, left, right on the third left he kicked out and planted his leg firmly behind hers, stopping the back step that would allow her leverage. He gave a quick twist and dipped her. Upon rising he grabbed a sash she was wearing at her waist and held it out. Her perfect plastic face, no doubt done up with the same magic that made his costume, glaring at him with a terrifying smile.</div>
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She pulled back, he mimicked her, connected arms touching, free arms holding parallel to the ground. They smiled manically to nonexistent judges. She came around to face him, he had to follow. He was sure to be losing points for following her, but not too many, and if he did it well enough and could lead her into a trap. </div>
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With her sash he swung, she twisted and grabbed him by the neck. The sequins on this, a gloved hand, began to pierce his flesh. Poison was not allowed but there were other chemicals that didn't kill but could hamper. He put his arm out and wrapped it around her's to break the grip with his weight. He felt the sequins scratch, but he couldn't deal with that now. He used his grip on her arm to pull her down and back. She almost lost her footing, he would have won but she was good and let him lead her into a spin. </div>
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One time around. She was damn good. He couldn't drop her, this was The Tango and he needed to keep her with him at all times unless she broke it off. A second time. What could he do? He could feel her shifting. She was up to something. She had so many options; a blade in her boot? A well planned twist? She seemed to have more power over the dance now. </div>
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Then he remembered the dance was one of passion and he only needed to keep the tension up,. It was daring but he didn't know any other way out of this. They were going into the fourth spin, Too many, this would drop his points so he leaped and let her go. He landed on toes and palms straddling her. A twist and dodged her blow with the knife. </div>
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He spun, rolled, and rose to his feet,in a move that looked planned but he did all he could to avoid three attacks. She was so smooth, he left her confused and stumbling. He hadn't won yet. He took her sash stretched it as she did a cat like crawl up his leg. Her one chance to grab the sash before it changed. He put it in his mouth and it coiled. injecting a powerful toxin into him. But she now had to steal it from him. It was the dance she had to follow the rules.</div>
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He felt the toxin pour into his body and she played him, forcing him have to drag her across the floor and absorb more toxin. With a kick he straddled her and flung her up from under her. she now had to take the rose. If she could get him in a spin he'd take the rose back but he could see it wilting. He twisted and they began the classic tango. She tried but he dipped her. The second phase of the rose began. It pumped the antidote in. She screamed and dropped he had to end wisely to get the points back. He went to her took out a scarf from his belt and laid it on her as he watched consciousness ebb from her. </div>
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The trial of body was the easiest of the three he’d have to take. The tango was the hardest. This meant the next two were going to be advanced. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d never wanted this. He just wanted to fade into the background and do a job like food worker — not glamorous but simple. He’d made the mistake of passing the M.A.T.s with high marks. His best score in the Sciences and thinking he’d failed the practical he’d actually just couldn’t fail that day and passed full graduate when he’d only stayed in school to tenth grade. </div>
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His heart slowed enough that he could spread his conscience out, this activated the red spot. It was far. He hadn’t realized that the dance floor lacked a fourth wall. The spot shone in the distance. He had to make it to the spot before it faded. The rocky terrain that surrounded him would have made the journey hard enough but someone decided it would be fun to put a labyrinth in the way. </div>
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The painted suite didn’t protect him from the elements. Instead it just let everything through He had to check twice to be sure he wasn’t naked. The rubbery texture assured him he was clothed but this was nerve wracking. </div>
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Gin opened one of the pockets of his weighty belt and pulled out a tube. Rubbing it on his hands he concentrated on gloves. soon he had red gloves that glowed on the palms. Capping the tube he put it back in the pocket and started toward the maze. </div>
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A light flashed to his left and he dropped and rolled left hoping that the shooter would expect him to go away from the threat. He was right but the shooter adjusted fast and got Gin right in the back. His magic coat flashed super bright white. so white it almost blinded him from the reflection off the cliff face. He ran. The damage wasn’t so bad, the coat might heal itself. It had a few more tricks in it so he didn’t toss it away.</div>
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Nothing flashed at him until he’d made it to the maze entrance. This time, however, what flashed was a spell that formed into red glowing gel beasts, about 7” tall. He could hear the ground sizzle where they touched it. One jumped and stuck to his chest. It began to burn. He panicked and fell on another. Several more flashes followed by several more splats turning into 7” acid gels hit the wall of the labyrinth. He noted them but was to busy screaming to care much. He pulled off his coat, sad that he’d not see it in action. Maybe the couturisian could make him another if he survived.</div>
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He finally peeled the creature off and threw it aside in time to see another man in a painted suite walk up. He’d obviously ignored the part where he put the cup on before the suite. The suites really did form to everything. </div>
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“yah?” He sniggered.</div>
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Gin looked up and saw the man in his white suite with a blue and Magenta lightning design coming from his shoulder to point at the un-cupped area. He had spiky hair pointy nose and a pointed chin that rapidly moved up and down on the gum he seemed to be enjoying as much as the gloating.</div>
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Gin, instead of staying to take this man on, test or no, He grabbed on of the acid creatures and threw it at the man’s face. It burned hard but he was protected with the gloves he’d just put on.</div>
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Just as he thought, the man didn’t protect himself from the affects of the little creatures. He removed the gloves and began to apply new ones when he thought of something. The top of the maze was protected from just flying to the red light. But did they protect the sides. This maze was built not cared so it had to be worth checking. He moved to the left and saw that is didn't’ go all the way through. so he went to the other. This one was open. Why? A trap?</div>
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Onward he went he could see the red spot and as he began to see the stage where the spot shone. He reached it and as he climbed the stage and the light went out. All the lights. He’d failed. He’d have his magic stripped and he’d be sent out, enslaved most likely. </div>
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“Gin Talawandamuckitymuck?” a dual voice rang out and a bright speck of light bobbed into view. Gin just shook his head. He was trying not to react to loosing. A well behaved Dulled has a better chance in a rich home. Most of his personality would be wiped, of course, but there is some part of the person still in there and doing well in the fog. </div>
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“We have come to inform you that you have passed.”</div>
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“What?” </div>
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You showed restrain, agility and wisdom. Very few think to look at both sides of the the maze. You used Skull’s magic against him. And the contents of that belt were inspected prior to your prep. We see some advanced artificey in there. You even mimicked the idea of the suite with those gloves. You will study as law enforcement.</div>
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Gin was so excited. There wee no limits to what you’d ever be tested as but Law enforcement was the best job in the world. </div>
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He’d never believed he be the good enough. He hoped for something dull but ended up with the the best life ever. </div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-43573027843892012442015-03-02T21:33:00.002-08:002015-03-26T08:42:39.493-07:00Glaux<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You know that moment before opening your eyes first thing in the morning. That point just before you realize that you are still alive and not a part of whatever dream you decided to have the night before? That second when your mind does a quick check to see if everything is functioning well? That is when I felt the pain. Having never been in a washing machine I still feel confident saying that I felt like I made it through both rinse cycles breathing.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-b86eb0da-de1f-2438-f1ad-1597c01a48a4" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I let my awareness of pain be heard with a scream. Last I remember is that MMA dude getting mad at me following him. He called me a fag and the world turned off. There’s vague images of him hitting me and then I woke to this pain. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I try to open my eyes but only one seems to be wanting to and even that it wanted reluctantly. It opens and then Glaux is there staring me in the face. I could swear the little shit was grinning. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Don’t look at me like that.” I mostly said around a gravelly voice.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Glaux, my gift from Athena greek goddess of pains in my ass hooted the metallic bubble hoot of enchanted metal. It turned it’s head from side to side then leaped to fly to a dark corner of the hospital room.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well I see your friend decided you are fine.” Said a very attractive young woman in scrubs and no make up.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How’d he get in here?” I really wanted to spend a day without this terror. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He just showed up while we were cleaning you up. couldn’t get him to leave. He attack three orderlies. We stopped chasing him and he stopped attacking. When we were done he landed on your chest and wouldn’t let anyone near you.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wow, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">better than a guard dog. Wait, no. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I was attacked.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“not from the looks of it. You are pretty beat up but the other guy will probably never fight again.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What?”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s right.” A deep slithery voice sounded as a briefcase landed hard on the table by my head. It belonged to a brown suit filled with a very fleshy ball of pinky-yellow, a smile that warned of hard times to come, and a reservoir of grease, from the smell of it bacon grease. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked hard at him with the one eye that reluctantly gave me site, I assume because it lost a bet. “Burt Jones Esquire,” The suite said with his mouth. His smile however said, “Your mine”.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I barely made a “Gnuh” noise before he continued.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Our boy, Mausasi has agreed to not press charges if you come fight for us.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Maus-who? Fight?” I didn’t mean to say anything.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Boy looks like he took on a truck. You attacking him for no good reason like that.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The metallic hoot sounded. I agreed. “I didn’t attack.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I know you ain’t going to tell the truth boy but lets just say, no one who knows Mausasi, would ever believe he’d get beaten by you in a fair fight.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I just went for a jog. It was spooky and he seemed like a safe person to follow.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Now Mausasi is a good look’n boy but he don’t need you stalking him. Another charge.” he lifted a yellow notepad and scribbled something on it.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Stalk?” I started coughing. Every bone hurt.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Careful you.” I’d forgotten about the pretty nurse. “Those cracked ribs and fractured ulna can’t take too much. We don’t need to cast you but we will.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We have witnesses saying you had a weapon, and as soon as we get the footage from the camera we’ll know what kind of weapon you used on an unarmed man.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t know what you’ve been talking about. it was all a misunderstanding.” One that made me hurt so bad.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Where did you learn to fight?”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Press charges.” I said who’d believe this overweight, salesman could ever fight that high powered ball of muscle.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Glaux nearly screeched. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What in the hell was that?” Mr. Jones said looking around.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s my owl.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He picked up his pad again and scribbled something else down. “You are in a hell lot of trouble. I want you to consider your options; fight for us or go to jail for attempted murder, or at least assault.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Glaux gave a gentle hoot.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No. I didn’t do what ever you say I did.” this was followed by another harsh sound from the metal thing up in the corner.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What,” I said to the corner, “You want me to fight for them.” A soft hoot came in response. “I don’t even know how to fight.” </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“From what we’ve seen you know plenty well how to fight.”</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally with coaxing and a lot of hooting and screeching we signed a deal. Now I have to learn to fight in less than three months even if my bones don’t heal. I thought this damn bird was a symbol of wisdom. Stupid thing is going to get me killed. How is this a gift.</span></div>
<br /><br />DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-56830738355881644002015-03-01T09:17:00.000-08:002015-03-26T08:42:39.502-07:00First Steps<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marvin knew that first steps were always the hardest, knew it but for some reason didn't overcome. Today like all the days before he just sat there. the mess around him growing with each feeding, each snack, every change of clothes and every trip to the store. A, when compared to the globe as a whole, microcosm of life existed and grew in on and around this mess. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-bc5f7ec6-d651-a024-61c0-7ba0597ab5cd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It bothered him.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Right now it was the fly that bothered him, but it would find some other space to hover around and he’d fall to looking at the amount of trash that surrounded him. This is where he took in a deep breath through the nose and examined it for any trace of embarrassment. The rotted chicken that he threw in the trash, not rotten then of course, the spoiled musk-like reek that would come from some forgotten glass he probably filled and forgot when the stuper filled him. He thought there might be something he’d have to dispose of but on second sniff he figured he’d have at least until tonight before he’d have to make sure he removed it.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With that he grunted and with pops, cracks and pings that belonged to a man much older than he, he stood up, patted his belly, tweaked his right nipple and decided to get ready for the day.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He removed the baggy shorts, target clearance, wiped the sweat from along his crotch and sniffed the hand as it passed his nose on the way to scratching his head. He passed his bedroom and tossed the shorts on the top of a pile of clothes that long since outgrew it’s hampers.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The shower was a refuge. no man, let’s correct that, no </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">person </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">should take twenty minutes to clean themselves, but Marvin was thurogh. Between every toe, the arch. He rubbed and relished the feel of the cloth rubbing on every part of his body. Behind the knee and all around his groin and crack. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He begins to show attention to the pit of his left arm and a pressure, something like a burning, pushed from behind the eyes. He could let the water out, the shower would hide it. but he couldn’t. First steps are the hardest, he just wouldn’t overcome. The day had started. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sitting </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">didn’t work, any more today than all the other times he did it. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He had to leave the one place he felt, anything. Toweled off and squeezed into the bedroom for phase two. The hair, extra product, he just hadn’t wanted to get his hir trimmed. He’d have to go soon, but he could put it off a few more days. just so long as he did it before he had to put too much product. Then he’d look unprofessional. No he couldn’t do that. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Two days growth, at four he had to trim it, the scruff was harder to maintain than a full beard. Scruff hinted at youth and the small flecks of silver showing up needed to be countered. Chest, the hair had to be just the right length. Pubes, he’d taken care of those yesterday. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back in his room, In a box, slacks, black, smooth, a knife sharp crease, and darker stripes only seen from inches away. The salesman, thinking he was relating, called them whore stripes, because only the one blowing you would see them, but they gave the illusion of energy. On the rack a custom sewn shirt, darker than royal the single thread silver stripes set to accent an already impressive V shape. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Underwear not chosen for their comfort but for their relatability, socks, shoes. All gathered and assembled with a military tuck and a last glance in the mirror. He looked at the front door, this time there was no running water so he blinked back the pressure, not that he’d ever let it out.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marvin was back home. Not any happier for making it through the day. The slaps on the butt, the pinching, of the other secretaries. His ass actually hurt. Men don’t complain about those things. He and Wardo, who insists that the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ed </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">part of his name was actually just offencive, were at the gym at lunch with Mr. Caplain and a few other C-levels. If he could just catch one of their eyes. find a way to just be hired away from the hell of women, touching, insinuating, hinting and getting mad because he did or did not reciprocate. His boss one of the worse. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He rubs the offended butt cheek and looks at the canvas in the corner. Pencil lines, and some, a few strokes with the brush. How long since he put those there? Last June? He took a first step, then the sales meeting in Atlanta. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He stripped down to the underwear chosen for relatability rather than comfort, folded everything and put them in the safe boxes, off limits to the rest of the mess, and went to the mirror. A 38 year old looked back at him. Not bad, good shape; not sure how that happened. The eyes of that man, they accused him. Accused him for leaving Sarah, for not doing his art, for not even trying to get any of it back. They blamed him for the work he wouldn’t leave, couldn’t leave. How could he? He had no skills.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He grabbed some low sugar beef jerky, and a coconut water, the plain kind because of the lower sugar, he didn’t like it. Then with his back to the corner with the canvas that had pencil lines and a few strokes, Marvin </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">sat </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">again. It never worked, they said it would, but it never did. All it did was remind him that first steps were hard. The problem, the thing that none of this helped with was that he realized a long time ago. They are all first steps.</span></div>
<br />DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-81469327567495241742014-09-01T18:10:00.001-07:002014-09-01T18:10:32.450-07:00Spill Flame<h2 style="background-color: white; border: 0px; clear: both; color: #454545; font-family: Oxygen, sans-serif; font-size: 1.571em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 1.5em 0px 0.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Magic of Spill Flame</h2>
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Nimbus flapped his wings once more and burst into lavender fire. The Spill magic flooded over Miranda, bathing the beautiful princess in energy made only for her. Nimbus was her’s and she his. raised from children they grew to love one another. They would wed. On the day of her Father’s death They would wed and she’d be queen. She would take a concubinus and bare a son as her grandmother did. Many if Nimbus would let her.</div>
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She was getting eager for this time to happen. She loved her father. Loved him nearly as much as Nimbus but only nearly as much. After she fed, and was full on her mounts flame she leaped off his back. Using the magic given to her she gathered the glowing purple smoke that clung to her and formed wings like that of a butterfly. She flapped and hung in the air watching the great beast flap and fly. Nimbus flew in a great arch and returned. He was magnificent. His black opalescent scales shone purple, blue and yellow. A glorious vision that flew away, turned and came back towards her.</div>
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He closed in and spouted a puff of purple flame that formed into a rather handsome man about her age. It reached out a finger and tapped her on the shoulder before dissipating in a brilliant cloud of light. She laughed and reshaped her wings to large leathery things like his and gave chase.</div>
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They played tag, until the sun began to set. Dragon and Maiden no troubles just them and the fire. They had to get back so together they started back toward the Keep.</div>
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Midway they could see the smoke rising. Thick and black. Green and yellow light reflected off the smoke. Her father was in battle. Tina’s green power was immense and her father was a powerful fighter. The two were able to defeat any threat. Many had challenged them and only once had there been any doubt as to the out come. Who was making this much trouble?</div>
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Nimbus flashed again and she began to feed on the flame. The shape of a sword and staff appeared in the flames. He was never so direct as to speak like this but she agreed. She grabbed her staff and sword and poured flame into them as well. She knew what he wanted and agreed.</div>
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Nimbus circled around the keep looking for the center of the fight. There near the inner gate. Two beings fought. One the size of a child a glowing sword in his hand and a Spill Flame shield in the other. The other her father The Duke, Lord Sebastian the Victor dressed in the armored form of his wife and dragon, Tina the Green. Her father spun and slashed but the little yellow man was too fast.</div>
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She jumped off Nimbus, turned and waved her arms and fingers in a practiced cast and poured much of her captured flame into him. She turned and landed emitting the last of the flame. A young man, six feet tall, dressed in thick leathers landed next to her. His violet eye’s still held the slits of his former shape.</div>
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Lord Sebastian shouted for her to stay back as he poured a scalding green flame at the short yellow man. When he let up the little man attacked. He swung the shield around it released and flew at the Duke. The duke easily blocked it but it exploded on impact.</div>
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Miranda ran Staff in hand Nimbus by her side. The yellow man leaped at her father but changed in mid air. Nimbus, in this form far stronger than an average man. able to shake off most any wound, healed in the transformation back to dragon was impaled by the glowing sword.</div>
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Miranda screamed. Her father was unconscious on one side and Nimbus was bleeding on the other. He’d bled before but this time the blood was pooling. Instinct and years of training pulled her hand to the side to block the shield of yellow flame from cutting into her. She moved the staff again to block the sword and jumped back as the shield was punched at her again.</div>
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Using the stored flame in the staff she fought back trying to get to either her father or Nimbus. She had to save them.</div>
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The staff exploded in splinters the magic spent. She swept her foot and knocked him over. It was astonishingly hard to fight someone of this size, and skill. He pushed with magic and threw her up and back.</div>
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The arc was high and smooth. Grabbing the sword she twisted and landed on her feet Sword in position and ready to attack again.</div>
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Then laughter.</div>
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Her father began to rise unnaturally. He floated to an upright position. The yellow man stood up and walked next to him. Her father began to melt and the yellow man began to burn and grow. Green flame turned yellow and yellow to green. The laughter went from the deep round of her father to a higher piercing peal.</div>
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“Oh sweet Miranda, you are even better than they say. You fought off Phil there even after he consumed Your father’s Tina.” The yellow man, who had worn the shape of her father jumped on to the back of the man shaped creature as it continued to change to a full sized yellow. The flames of Tina finally turning to a lime green, soon they’d be absorbed and the Yellow more powerful for it.</div>
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She ran to Nimbus, her sword clattering to the ground. He had to wake. he had to use his magic to change back. she couldn’t do it. If she was fully charged she could change him but it wouldn’t be his will, it wouldn’t restore him. The power left in the sword was for cutting not for mending. He needed to fix himself. Her father was gone, he couldn’t leave too. Doing what little she could to slow the bleeding she pleaded with him to do something, anything.</div>
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Nimbus twitched and burst into violet flame. It consumed him and he was gone.</div>
</h2>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-61880690613525146322014-08-19T14:06:00.000-07:002014-08-19T14:06:03.790-07:00Exercise 3: DeLoupe-De Loop<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Margo DeLoupe stomped across the faux marble tile toward Higgman's office. The short power hungry little bastard wasn’t going to take credit for her hard work. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The DeLoupe deal even had her name on it. It was a thing of beauty and he made it seem like she wasn't even a part of it.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Her father THE Taylor DeLoupe the primary financier of the DeLoupe project gave her horrific terms that through brilliant negotiation and resource juggling that bordered on genius, she worked the arrogant ass down to a reasonable deal that mutually benefitted both companies. The combined income was twice the total income than the original lopsided arrangment. She was the one who made it happen not that arrogant dwarf.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The sound of the door hitting the shatter proof glass was like thunder. “What the hell Higgman” She yelled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“DeLoup, dear, I apologize for my appearance but normally people set an appointment or at least knock.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Margo looked toward the regally dressed voice to see a 3 foot 10 inch man, dripping wet, and not clothed at all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“What are you doing?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Showering, what does it look like? Now if you wouldn't mind turning while I become a tad more presentable.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She turned and watched him in the reflection of the office window. “Why, can I ask, are you showering from your office bar?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“If you haven’t noticed, I am smaller than most and it seems like it would be full of disadvantages but being able to convert an office bar into a makeshift shower is not one of them."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She tried to not look too obvious watching him dry off and dress in pants, commando style and a t-shirt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’m a tad more decent now if you care to stop ogling my reflection in the window.” He folded a towel and hung it in a coat closet then used a step stool to get into his chair and then directed her to the seat across from him. “What may I do for you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Disarmed by the sight of her team lead showering —oddly not the unpleasant experience she would have thought it would have been— she had to look at the folder she was unconsciously creasing in her hand. _Oh, right._ She set it down and tried to smooth it out as best she could. “The DeLoupe.” She opened the folder containing the plan overview and presentation notes and turned to the credits page. “My name doesn’t appear on it at all.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Yes?” he genuinely looked confused.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“It was my deal.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“It was your deal.” The “And?” was left implied.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Why wasn’t I even mentioned. This deal means Two Hundred Million for the company.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Two hundred seventy six, minimum.” He folded his hands took a breath and with calm force said, “I, Ms. DeLoupe, hope you are not implying that I am taking credit for work I did not do.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Well, yes she was, and maybe, looking at the makeshift shower out of the corner of her eye she was sure she could find some power over him. She had to be coy. “Of course not, I am merely wondering why there is no mention of my name here.” Now was not the time to be thinking of the shower. She could play this game. There was something there, something she could use, but how?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He nodded and re-laced his fingers. “I see.” He pushed himself back, the chair rolling and turning, he jumped from the chair and as he walked to the shower. He said, “If I’m not mistaken, you wanted to be mentioned in a report that proved not only that you were duly allied with both sides to your benefit and could also prove, should things go south to actually leave you in a still better financial place?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She hadn’t thought of that. Her father the Tycoon had only heard her proposal because she manipulated thanksgiving dinner, and her mother. She had used personal relationship for her gain as a BroKlo Co. employee. She had hoped her association could bring in a new source of revenue that now that she looked at it was beneficial to her regardless. As a BroKlo employee she would gain status and most likely some sort of finical gain. As a family member and heiress of the DeLoupe Fortune she would of course gain their too. She played honestly and created a balance contract for the two companies. A contract when looked at from a specific angle made her the prime beneficiary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“How does this deal failing benefit me more if it fails?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Perhaps I over estimated you.” He said. He was fiddling with the stand for the base of the shower then pushed it under the counter so it looked like a drawer. Took the shower head off a hook and replaced it so it looked like the sprayer/faucet she had on her kitchen sink. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He continued, “The deal itself will make both your father's company and BKC rich but if it fails both will fall into ruin. I can tell by the look in your eyes that you didn’t even realize that’s what was at stake. Yes they would fall into ruin but the trustees of DeLoupe will gain control of the remainder of the fortune and DeLoupe Corp’s sister companies. Something that directly puts money in your pocket. You managed to secure the DeLoupe holdings in such a way that there is no loss for you or your siblings. Weren't you aware of the split of the Hansen holdings from DeLoupe?“</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Hansen was a ghost company no one should have known about. Jebadia Hansen was the majority holder of several of DeLoupe Inc.'s less lucrative companies and several other not so well known assets. Jebadia was a corporation to itself held by the more estranged children. How did this little tyrant learn of this? Even she found out only when her father saw they future as she presented it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I didn’t have anything to do with that.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“No? Who’s going to believe you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Are _you_ planning something?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Accusations? Ms. DeLoupe don’t confuse me for a cretin. It is my job to look at all the angles. Do you know how many hours a week I put in here at BKC?” He paused and poured himself a beverage and proffered her a glass. She shook her head no. “112 to 130. You are here what, 60 or less?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I work 20 from home” it sounded desperate even to here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’m sure you do." He closed his eyes and seemed to come to a conclusion. "May I call you Margo?" he didn't wait for a responce, "Margo, I’m, what they refer to as a ‘Little Person’, a demeaning phrase, little person. My size and shape put me at a huge dis-advantage for the more social aspects of life. For years I could see how people pitied me or were nice to me out of self loathing than any real care for me. Friends liked me when I was more Oompa-Loompa than human. And yes I went out on a few dates but the shame of being seen with me. Margo, can you imagine what it must be like to hold hands with someone the height of a child?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’m…” She stopped when he put his hand up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“No, I’m not asking for pity. I want you to understand that I wanted what normal people wanted but then I found BroKlo Co. BKC accepted me in a way the world wouldn’t. I learned to give it all I had. I gained respect out of Merritt not looks or height."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I don’t have a home Ms. DeLoupe , did you know that?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She shook her head, where was this going?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I said there were some advantages to my…” he spread his arms and ice clinked in the glass, “condition.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She took a breath. What did he want? What should she say?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“No Ms. DeLoupe. Have a little respect, the evil genius is monologuing, this is his, my moment.” He looked at her and waited until she relaxed. “Now, where was I? Yes, benefits; I am just the right size to fit under my desk. Isn’t that a hoot? I became so involved and accepted by this thing, this evil corporation that I didn’t want to leave. There was too much to stop and too much to do. Having a home I went to once a week was stupid. I rent, “he used air quotes, “ a room for $278.23 from a nice lady who lives too far for a daily commute, but it’s an address and the amount happens to be the exact amount of my mother’s medication.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Why…”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Monologuing, Ms. DeLoupe.” he snapped. “This company is a home, a wife. A reason for me to exist. Pathetic, maybe but when I saw a woman, an honest woman, one who was fair beyond anyone I’d ever seen come through this company. Someone who when I checked found no deceit, only a pregnancy scare at 22, and who was willing to deal so drastically and viciously to make a mutually fair deal for both my home and her’s; even risking banishment from her family. A person who is willing to put so much on the line to be fair. I had to see what was really there. I found a dirty trick.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Margo took another breath but thought better of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He looked at her and continued when she didn’t speak, “This was a One Percenter’s trick. Something that only the rich could dream up, and manage. I did a full check and realized this honest woman didn’t even know. So I did the thing that if she were as honest as she presented herself wouldn’t matter. I removed her name from the deal.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She sat there looking at him. His squat, slightly baby shaped body standing there looking strong, sure. Higgman was known for his dirty deals and evil back handed methods. Maybe he was different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Now, Ms DeLoupe if there is nothing else?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“How do you know it’s not a trick.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“A good question.” He moved to his file cabinet pulled the step ladder and dug out a folder. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Folder in hand he returned to her, “First, you Margo DeLoupe, have tensions with your father’s morals but don’t hate him. Second you are a giver, you volunteer and help manage a soupe kitchen completely without notice. Third.” he handed her the folder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She took it and looked at the title, Lander DeLoupe surveillance. “I like playing a fair game, I bought this from one Mercer Ledwigg, hired to give info to Besdra Intl. He’d been unable to remove the taps so kept them going. I found them when I was researching you. My only copy and It’s yours. And something more powerful than telling on me that I turned my liquor cabinet into a shower.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He escorted her to the door, two files in her hand. One bent and wrinkled the other ominous and hard to hold. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He’d actually done her a favor. </span></div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-66773002313404263252014-07-14T16:52:00.001-07:002014-07-21T21:58:03.975-07:00Even a one sided love can keep you young<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The following is the result of an exercise from my writing group. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rules were as following:</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-b9ed851f-373f-bedb-9c04-010d0dfa7480" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. Each sentence must be EXACTLY one work longer than the previous sentence (excluding the first sentence, which may be as long as you like).</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. You must tell a complete 3-act story.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">- Act One: A problem appears</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">- Act Two: A problem is approached (a response to the problem)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">- Act Three: A problem is resolved (positive or negative or inconclusive)</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dying?"</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fucking Tumor.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Doug cried Freely.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His fists Clench tightly.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He feels so freaking helpless.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is nothing he can do</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's been years since his last prayer</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He's interrupted by a knock at the door</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Excuse me," says the man in the purple fedora. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">---------------------</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He followed the map precisely but it must be wrong. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">The mysterious man told him it was going to be perilous. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">He however, didn't mention the part where the ground crumbled to nothing. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">He survived the rabid </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;">squirrel</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the winged anaconda and various other supernatural "</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Guardians</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">". </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now he's falling to his death never to find The Fountain and save Tiffany.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I wasn't looking for me," he cries out a second prayer in as many days. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">Doug's lengthy fall ends with a splash, a breaking of bones and an intake of water. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">---------------------</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He know's he looks 25 again but that is no reason for this admittance lady's agressive rudeness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">"She was in here with a tumor, they wouldn't have wheeled her out an let her go."</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">An older woman with the most beautiful eyes walked up, "I'm so sorry young man she's not here."</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rude woman gasped, her face falling from smug to consoling said "Oh that was Dr. Pasco's , Ahem, special patient."</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The older woman dug through some papers and produced an envelope with a familiar thumb drive shaped like the Pokemon Squirtle. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">It drive had a video of </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tiffany</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and a man who looked much less mysterious with out his fedora or purple </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;">suit</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"If you are watching this then our plan failed and I need to tell you I never want to see you ever again. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">Doug, I really do love you but I felt more like a mother than a girlfriend so much that I just couldn't handle it." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">He wanted to cry but couldn't feel anything for the gold digging evil murderous bitch who gave up a love that created miracles for <i>HIM</i>. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.5; white-space: pre-wrap;">He gave the water from the Fountain of Youth to the kind woman with the beautiful eyes who later picked him up at a Night club. </span></div>
DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-79573207853257094952014-07-02T18:16:00.000-07:002014-07-03T23:04:27.320-07:00Tree hugger<div style="margin-bottom: 12px; text-indent: 28.3px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 12px; text-indent: 28.3px;">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another moonless night. Too many. It was unnatural. When was the last time she even saw the sun? Was there a sun or had she imagined it? The view before her, an inverted nightmare. The trees glowed a ghostly white, like a night filled with a summer moon, and between them a darkness that seemed to be filled with it’s own light. A brilliance the poor ill bred wretches of flesh would never be blessed to see. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The shortest distance between two points is the line between me and you </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The song with no source droned on. Magda worked her way through the forest. They were words she memorized with her childhood friend. What was her name? Lillith, Lani, Cheazra? No not Cheazra. They would sing this song. A tale about a princess searching for her beloved and he her. They giggled and sang as they acted out the parts. Sometimes she would be the prince, sometimes the princess. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">always living on as the young </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now the woods whispered it to her. Again and again. The song encouraging her deeper and deeper into the dense black. She remembered the two of them putting the pine needles under their noses to make Mustaches and —Lucia, no, Lora, no, Chappy? No not Chappy— her friend would strut around making a show of being a burly man. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In our love we stay strong. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ground began to rumble and pollen from the cotton wood started to flutter around her like Glow Bugs. Luminescent in this inverted world. Her friend gave the trees a name Populus deltoides So funny they would call them something other than Trees. Her friend said it was something the people of Landgrave did to identify things as different and in doing so keep them separate. Like how the two of them weren't supposed to play because they were different. Trees, people, what made them different? They grew and they woke and slept. Like all Living things. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is no space between a bond so true</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There, again, the warmth. It had been days, no weeks. The warmth had left. A cold befitting the eternal dark crept in filling all the places the warm should have been. And then a howl. The sound of an animal in so much pain. The pain of the soul rending asunder. She ran. Hoping to help. The noise surrounded her giving her no guide but she followed her heart followed knowing this cry was for her. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cry chased the song away. It is now silent except for a small beat, more felt than heard.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She finds a clearing. In it, a young man. She pauses to watch. His hair is white, glowing like a moon. In his hands a small stone. Black. Evil. A massless malignant chunk of the world around her. The soul of this dark world. Tears of crystal fall from his eyes to feed the stone. It created the warmth, kept forest alive. Should she make him stop? Would set her free?</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She tried to say something but she had no speech. He leaned back opened his mouth and the cry, the one she chased to find this spot, rang out coming from every tree and rock, from the starless sky itself. She needed to end this torture. Her's, his and it was becoming clear the pain of the forest itself. With caution she moves to the man and puts her hand on his shoulder. He tenses but does not move. Gaining a little more resolve she kneels to meet his eyes. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He looks up, eyes slowly focusing on her face. Marks, deep cuts and burns marred a face once soft and fair. Brilliant eyes she knew were of the deepest green shown grey in this land. He looked so much like Lulu, no Chandler…</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Magda the wind speaks a name. He lookes so much like her childhood friend. He lifts the rock to her. It was a piece of time. A solid beat. She couldn’t bare the solid chunk of nothing. She put her hand on his to cover the stone. A beat. And for a moment the forest returned to life then was back. She remembered him Luchan. He was her friend. The one that played with her. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They laughed. They grew. They… Loved.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another beat. Only one more. She knew. She knew how they were forbidden to love. She a creature of the forest. He a creature of blood, a human. Then she saw him fighting to save her. The flames surrounding her. His people attacked him held him down, made him watch. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Again, and the final beat. The stone fades to grey. Her time is up. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She looks at him. Her heart stone, the time keeper of her life. That which makes rhythm is still. His wounds have fed it and now she must go. Leave the stone, it will be the seed.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She wants to tell him that she is gone. That she must return to the flow of the forest. She no longer has voice and the forest begins to fade. The ghostly light of life fading, consumed by the dark of eternity. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luchan She speaks the name and it's carried on the wind. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His eyes seem to focus. He looks at her, blinks back tears and buries the stone. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From the ground as the last ghost light fades a song emerges</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-7b4d624c-fff8-d2d8-5ca3-56e4dc997ab3" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The shortest distance between two points is the line between you and me</span></div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019325853086458480.post-17286752597189538292013-03-30T18:39:00.001-07:002013-03-30T18:39:11.080-07:00You Can't Fool Mother Nature<br />
<div style="background-color: transparent;">
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.36652032216079533" style="font-weight: normal;"><div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Method walked the green path tightly guarded by the flora planted thickly on either side. Today was the day he was going to wonder past the edge. Today was… “oh hell with it” he said under his breath and turned to go back to his home.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Morris the Pidgit was there standing with his arms wide doing his best to look intimidating and bigger than the twelve inches if he stands on his toes height.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“No, no hell. You going this time, Master says hes going and Pidgit make master’s command true.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Thank you for your concern Pidgit, but I’m just not ready”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“When then? Master say he’s going.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Not today.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Parents say you old enough.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“My parents have never been outside either. They were mere sprigs themselves when they landed on this world. How am I supposed to know what I’m supposed to do?”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Pidget knows you walk, and the green ends and you go to hard ground were the fast things are.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“The fast things. Do you ever listen to yourself.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Pidget is programmed to speak this way.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Fine save program, I’m going to try a fix.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“ohhh Pidget isn’t likeing this.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’ve gotten better. You didn’t actually die last time.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Should have.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Save!”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pidget squeaked and popped a glowing red ball from it’s head and put it in his navel</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Method bent down, waved his hand over the shaking creature and stood up. “okay, speak.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The creature yapped and panted like a dog.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Oh crap.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Kidding, just kidding.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“That’s new.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You are right sir, I’m feeling a little more, mmm what ‘s the word.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Snarky.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Ooo, I like that. Snarky”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Well keep the back up and we’ll see if I like it later. I do like the pronouns”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Pidget does too.” It raised it’s eyebrows and gave a wink.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“what have I done?” Method asked himself. As he started to head back to the house.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“No, no.” Pidget bounced in front of his master and again looked like he was trying to be intimidating.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“What?”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Your parent’s said you needed to go.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Why?”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Because,” the gentle voice of his mother emerged from behind him, “you have work to do.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“work yeah, what kind of work.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Boot, and Lyla have gone into the world and they need to come back.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Boot and Lyla quit.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“They should never have developed sentience.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“They were slaves that we programmed as we saw fit.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You are so much like these beings on this planet, the humans.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Well I’ve watched a lot of Television, Which by the way you sent Boot out to get.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Fine, What happens if they tell the world of us.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“The damn TV is on all the time, what do you think.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Oh, master shouldn’t talk to his mom like that.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Did you program Pidget?”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Well it was.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Hypocryte. You have lived nearly 100 of these earth cycles Your father and I have rooted and cannot leave but you refused to stay still. Now you are the one who needs to go.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Method looked at her and took off his shoes.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Pidget, stop him.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“What can I do?”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Method felt the earth. It had always called to him. He’d some day have to root. All his kind did it.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Kidding.” He turned and looked at Pidget. Can I take Pidget?</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“If he desires.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“What!” he yelled and did a back flip. “For so long I have wanted to go. Oh thank you Mistress.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Okay try to look like a monkey.”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Will do Boss.” And jumped on Methods shoulders.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Mother I will try to return with Boot and Lyla”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Go my son and have a life.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They walked to the end of the path. The shrubs merging behind them. Some cars zoomed past and Pidget pointed a direction and they headed that way.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Purpose watched her son leave, she wished she could uproot and travel with him, She was going to miss him. Then she saw Pidget juggling three small balls. Putting one after another in Method’s head. Pidget was programming him.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span></div>
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DanielVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09902903009185122884noreply@blogger.com0