Archive for the ‘short story’ Category

h1

John of the farm.

January 16, 2009

Just a little piece.


“John?”

John raised his eyes up from his toil. The sun was hot on his back, but he was used to it.

“Yes love.”

“It’s another one of them John, I…”

“I know Mary, I’ll talk to them.”

He rubbed his hands, tied the reigns of his oxen to the plow and walked off towards the barn.

Mary turned to follow him; he gave a weary smile reached out a hand. She took it and they walked together to the prim red structure across the field.

When they got to the barn the sparkle from one of the transcendent was easy to spot.

**why** The sparkle half talked, half thought towards them from the corner of the barn.

“I have to ask you to leave.” John was tired of their questions. At first he had tried to explain to them, but their way of life always confused beings who had made the transition. There was complete disconnect between their existence now.

**we do not comprehend**

“go” and he turned to leave them unanswered.

**you do not understand what you are missing**

John stopped and turned to look at them, “I’ve tried to explain it to you before. We are as you see. I farm, we love, there is nothing more.”

**but there is so much more**

“Of what VALUE is what you offer? It is electrons and ether. I deal in dirt and corn.”

Perplexed the other grew stubborn and did not leave.

**You are foolish, you do not know what you give up**

Finally John understood and he smiled at his wife, “No it is you who are the fool. There is nothing richer than love and growing something with your own hands.”

**Come to us, you will see**

“Forget you! Leave me alone” He turned and together with Mary they left the barn. There would be other “guests”. They do not understand each other the transcendent and the natural.

“John, why don’t they ever truly leave us alone?”

They walked slowly back across the field to the plow, “They cannot see the beauty and love that we live in Mary. They only see the hard work and short life. None of the value and love.”

Advertisements
h1

Friday Flash Fiction: Cats These Days

October 23, 2008

I quite like this one.

Came fast just like you want FFF to be like.


Margaret fumbled for her key. She had to shift the bag of groceries to her other arm to reach into her right jeans pocket to find them. Before she opened the door she made sure she pulled her gun out, Fluffy was still on the loose.

A cat had seemed like a good idea two years ago when she got Fluffy.

It was just around the time that GenPet® was advertising its NewCat® and NewDog® line of genetically engineered pets: “Smarter, Cleaner, Easier, Better,” said the brochure. They made it sound better than a real cat, no litter boxes and no surprises.

They left out the fact that smarter wasn’t necessarily better when it came to cats.

Once the NewCat understood the relationship situation, the whole pet/owner thing, they tended to exude resentment.

She opened the door slightly and peeked inside.

“Fluffy?…”

Silence.

“Fluffy? Don’t try anything ok sweetums. Mommy’s got her gun out.” Margaret held the gun firmly, showing the skill she had been forced to learn from the many encounters with her cat.

It was a bad sign when Fluffy didn’t show himself, it meant he was angrier than usual.

Margaret entered the house and closed the door behind her. Keeping her back to the corner, gun leveled, steady and ready. She reached into the bag and pulled out the bag of NewCat ‘nipBits®, “Mommy has your stuff dear.” It was considered a good conventional wisdom to keep your NewCat doped up as much as possible.

Margaret had run out of the treats yesterday, now she was in trouble.

“MeeeOOWW!” A fuzzy yellow ball of fur leapt at her from the top of the breakfront!

BANG!

She missed and barely dodged her NewCat, Fluffy raked his claws across her back as he flew by, leaving a four inch swipe .

“OOW!” Shouted Margaret as she lashed out with a foot.

But the NewCat was too quick, bouncing up and off the back of the couch and away into the dining room.

BANG!

She missed again.

Margaret headed towards the stairs up to her room. Slowly she backed up the stairway, keeping a careful aim  on the hallway at the bottom. Fluffy was bigger, stronger, faster and smarter than a normal cat. Sometimes Margaret thought he was even smarter than she was. He was always trying to outwit her.

Something slammed into her back and she felt the teeth of her NewCat sink into her neck.

“AAAEEEEeeeeeee!” She screamed, dropped the gun and reached back to grab the ball of terror. But he was too slippery and wily. She finally just slammed her back against the wall; Fluffy let go.

They stood ten feet apart in the hallway eyeing each other. Fluffy crouched over her dropped gun and laughed.

“hmmmph hmph hmph hmph.”

Margaret was sure it was a laugh, he only laughed when he was committing evil.

She saw now how he had snuck behind her. The window to her bedroom was open. He’d gone outside and climbed in from the tree in front of her window.

But the bathroom had no windows.

She made a dash and Fluffy leapt again to prevent her escape.

She slammed Fluffy’s foot in the door and he roared, an actual lions roar in miniature. But he pulled the foot back and Margaret was able to get the door shut and locked. She collapsed against the door, panting with Fluffy just on the other side mewling

“MMmmeeeooowwwrrrrge.” Margaret heard her name in his meow, Fluffy could talk! “Mmeeowrrrjj, iiiiiimmmm ggrrrrroonnna k-k-ach-kiiiiillll yoooouuuueeeeoooww.”

As she frantically stuffed ‘nipBits under the door, she vowed to herself that she was definitely signing on to the class action lawsuit against GenPet tomorrow.

h1

Friday Flash Fiction: Windows for Eyes

September 26, 2008

…and the damn McDonalds ad kept coming back up.

I triggered my blocker and it was gone leaving behind a ghost image for a few seconds before the buffer could clear. I need to update to the latest Windows Vision 10, winvis9 is pretty buggy. I mean my new eyes are only 5 months old and already they have trouble with refresh rate and spam.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for 419ers worming around the security settings and waking me up in the middle of the night with promised riches. Bastards! Are there still people dumb enough to fall for that line of crap?

Don’t get me wrong my new eyes are way better than bio eyes. I mean I don’t see trash, I have live maps going all the time and I can see everyone’s vcard which is cool. I even got this great theme going right now, all the dudes are dressed but all the chicks are naked, well the software makes them as close an approximation as possible. Anyways, I need to tweak that filter a bit, it’s been a bit flakey lately and I’ve been startled by a few full monties and that ain’t cool.

All the buildings are flowing shades of coral and it’s like we are all walking under the ocean with fish and dolphins cruising around. Sometimes it gets hard focusing on what I’m doing or where I’m going.

The mermaids are awesome.

But the hassles of having advertising piped directly into your visual cortex is almost enough to sour me on the whole thing.

Maybe I’ll get me a pair of iEyes from Apple.

h1

fff: Hard luck on Mars.

August 22, 2008

Shorty and a late one at that.

———————————————-

Where do you go when you’re fired? I mean if you are on Earth you can just go get another job at a different company, but Mars? It ain’t like there too many opportunities for reasonable employment if you ain’t working for one of the big orgs.

You end up a scrub…

Hold on a second will ya buddy, here comes a fatcat bureaucrat.

Hey gov’ner, you got any spare air credits for a martian down on his luck?

Yeah screw you buster.

So like I was sayin’, Mars ain’t for the weak. You either gotta step up or stomp on somebody to make it…

Me? I’m gonna be ok, I just need one lucky break.

h1

FFF: Patselonkaloman

August 8, 2008

Really fast one today.  I can’t vouch for quality or grammer.  I’m headed out on vacation.

_________________________________________________________

[Crap! he’s a MK2 not an Mk1] Thought Patselonkaloman.

He watched as the Peacekeeper fired his attitude jets, which now came standard on the mark two, and accelerated in his direction across the weightless space of the vast cargo hold. The slow coast Patselonkaloman had from their initial struggle was not fast enough for him to get to a wall before the cyborg got to him.

[Crap!] There was only one chance, if he timed it just right he could land on the catwalk and Joe Degrady, all 300 pounds of augmentation, would fall the rest of the way to the floor some 50 feet further down.

Patselonkaloman activated the gravity generators from his headgear. But only for a second and then off again. His trajectory changed, now angled down towards the catwalk. Peacekeeper Joe’s course was altered as well but he had much more control than Patselonkaloman, who’s tool was the crudeness of 32 feet per second squared.

“AAHHHHH!” Patselonkaloman yelled in challenge as the Peacekeeper continued his advance.

“You cannot win Mr. Kaloman, surrender.”

“AAAAHHHH!” in answer.

Close now, Patselonkaloman could see the metallic eyes.

Patselonkaloman turned, grabbed the handrail of the catwalk and flicked the gravity generators back on.

Joe Degrady grasped at “Mr. Kaloman” and missed as the hammer of gravity that Patselonkaloman wielded knocked him to the floor of the room with a thud.

“LaTERRRRRRRR!” Patselonkaloman sang as the Peacekeeper rolled onto his back. Even cyborgs feel it when they fall 50 feet to hard steel.

Patselonkaloman ran.

h1

FFF: The Last Prince of Atlantis

August 1, 2008

Short one today.  I like how this one turned out.
——————————————————–

The end was nigh. The end of all that had come before. The end to the millennia of magnificence that was Atlantis.

And so Selebor the lesser sat in the room of far-seeing in the highest part of his palace, brooding as the flames engulfed the city sprawled below him.

There was nothing left to do to save the empire now. The rebels of the eighth house had succeeded in breaching the walls of the citadel and would soon be scouring the seven palaces for the heads of the princes they sought so voraciously.

One of those heads belonged to Selebor.

He waited, patiently, brooding all the while as he watched his world burn. His eyebrows scrunched down hard over his eyes, his jaw clenched in powerless anger, one hand gripping the arm of his ornate chair, its knuckles white with effort, and the other idly banging the bottom of his long scepter on the marble floor.

He alone remained of his household. The rest he had sent away to his holdings elsewhere, far away from the desecration of their home. He didn’t expect to ever see them again.

And so he sat as the chants grew near and his doom approached.

Brooding.

h1

Friday Flash Fiction: What really matters.

May 23, 2008

Just a little ditty this week.


The cave-in wasn’t the bad part, neither the declining air supply of my suit.  Nor my team members lying dead around me.  Not the pain from my broken leg or the laceration to my arm now sealed with emergency tape.

Some of you might think it would be the hairline crack in my facemask threatening to become a full-blown hole.  Nahhh.

The internal injuries?  I probably won’t have time to worry about those.

Double vision?  nothin’.

Broken ribs? mosquitos.

You see I got this itch in the middle of my back…