The absolute first thing that I realized was that my hair was gone. I myself can admit that I never kept it as beautiful or as stylish as I could have, in fact, I had tons of split ends and I always had my hair in a bun. But my hair was nonetheless mine but after waking up to run my palm against the smooth skin of my scalp, I would have cried if I had not found myself in such a peculiar situation. I realized after rubbing my head that my wedding ring had been taken off of my finger. Furthermore, my other jewelry was missing: my bracelets, my earrings, my necklace with 'Melissa' engraved into it given to me by my mother. This, like my hair, was also finally eclipsed by the last peculiar fact of the situation: my body ached and without any explanation, I was in a hospital.
The hospital also seemed odd to me. Its facade seemed dingy, unlike the ones I'd been used to. That's when I realized shamefully that I couldn't distinguish whether or not this was a regular hospital that regular people went to. I was so used to top notch service, brightly lit rooms and a large HDTV or at least something orchestral playing on the radio to soothe the soul. What I woke to was dim lighting, a small TV on the wall and an eerie empty hallway.
Not a second later, a doctor and his assistant appeared. Judging from their garb, I could immediately recognize regardless of social status that they were not doctors. They wore the masks pre-surgery, didn't have name tags and wore tattered uniforms. Nonetheless, I figured they had more information on my position than I did, so I began my questioning. They quickly realized their errors and lowered their masks from their faces to greet me.
"Hello Mrs. Parrish."
“Hello gentlemen. It seems that I have suffered some memory loss. Can you tell me why I'm here?"
They looked at each other waiting for one another to step up and provide an excuse.
“You were in a car accident.”
“Oh, dear.” I tried very hard to contain my smile. I couldn’t tell if I was about to do it out of fear or pity. “Well could you explain what happened to my hair?”
“Yes.” The other answered surprisingly fast. “It caught on fire in the accident; we had to shave it off.”
I had felt my scalp already. The headache was internal. I had no burns, 1st 2nd or 3rd degree.
“Well what do we do now?”
Sweat began to form at the one’s brow. Another bit the inside of his cheek.
“We have to perform surgery.”
“Do you have the instruments in order to do so?”
“Of course.” There was a silence between me and them. For completely different reasons, though. They themselves were idiots- they didn’t know what they were supposed to do. I was so hushed because although I knew they weren’t doctors, I wasn’t so sure that they didn’t have surgical tools.
“Ma’am, we have everything you need,” He tried to reassure me. “Syringes, bandages, scalp holes.”
Did he just call a scalpel a scalp hole?
Yes he did.
They’re going to kill me.
They’re really going to kill me.
The other one smiled, yellow, crooked teeth, as if he knew that I knew what was going on.
I have to get out of here.
They seemed to be edging closer and closer to me. When I rose up, one of them revealed that he had said scalpel in hand.
I’d have to fight my way out.
Another prompt from that sci-fi site made by that Mush Face character
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The World Through
The World Through
Derrick McCain
The world through my eyes hadn’t changed much since the reanimation of corpses. Capitalism still reigned, with food being the new essential rather than money. Sex still sold though, definitely as it has and will over civilizations for millenniums to come. The only problem other than that was the undead. Several factors played into their existence, first being their hunger. At first populating themselves by biting to the point of spreading the plague, they were finding that they no longer have the luxury. Instead, when one of the luckier ones does find a human pray, they end up devouring them to the bone with a malnourished savagery. This in turn is making them a dying breed. While this may be beneficial to the humans, it also tends to be problematic. While we started building our civilizations again, we started realizing the decrease of infected parties invading our grounds. This fearfully made us question whether or not the virus was dying completely or if they were just hiding a lot easier the bigger the cities became.
And that’s where we start. In the slums of New Haven, the new purgatory between hell and humanity where those rich of food and prostitutes flaunted it with armored trucks and armed guards covering them while the normal people scurried to find the last few canned goods left. I myself lived in the alleyways, the backstreets, and the dirty sidewalks in the city where the undead might hide. While paranoia was constant in my heart, I also had to deal with the constant pain in my stomach of longing for a meal. Today, a fourth hole had to be cut on my belt in order to get it to hold my pants up. Without government aid, people like me where known to disappear often for unknown reason, but usually in pursuit of something better. I myself don’t see anything else to compensate with other than what I have before me.
In order to live, my daily rounds usually consisted of begging; not receiving, then picking up what little of people’s scraps people left. At the age of 17, I was at an odd place where I was not perceived fully a man by society, but was not boyish enough to obtain sympathy. Many nights I spent cold, hungry and sunken in both defeat and shame of how low I had sank, my lack of morale to become a go-getter when it came to surviving, and the shape I had gotten in. Things wouldn’t look up for me until I met The Scientist.
It was a peculiar manner, the way we met, I was crossing the outskirts of the town, considering leaving, when I found an old Victorian looking mansion. Almost in disbelief, I moved closer to discover squirming in a bush.
“Don’t move any closer, he’s got a rifle.” A voice that I couldn’t trace said. I froze in my tracks.
“Your pockets. Empty them.” The gruff voice ordered and soon my pockets were inside out, showing him I had nothing.
“Alright, come here.”
I approached, finding the voice could be followed to the front door of the mansion.
“You look thin” He said.
“You can see me?” I questioned.
“Of course, I could see you though the peephole.”
That’s when I realized the world through that peephole must have been so soothing. So stable and luxurious, at least for this day and age.
“Do you have room in there?” I asked.
“Of course I do.”
“I?” I clarified.
“Yes. I’m alone, other than my guard there.” He pointed at the bush.
“Well… could I get a room in there?”
He laughed and there was a pause.
“What are you willing to do?”
“Just about anything”
“How about killing?”
There was a pause, my judgment began kicking in.
“Would it make you feel better if I assure you that they’ve already died once?”
That changed everything.
“I’d need equipment…”
And soon, the Scientist was instructing me to kill a female infected and bring her hand to him. From the top window, he threw down a small pistol, a hacksaw, and a garbage bag. I stalked the night, bag tucked away in my back pocket with the hacksaw and pistol in my front ones, waiting to find one of them. As I’ve mentioned before, it was very hard trying to locate one of the Reanimated with their heads still in tact, so I stayed in the most dangerous part of the New Haven, hunting.
And then, by a stroke of luck, I found her.
She swayed, hypnotized by hunger. She had a sallow, miserable appearance that almost made us akin. For a moment I lamented the light blue tint to her skin, the cataracts glazed over her eyes and the residue of blood and flesh that were probably wedged either under her fingernails or teeth at this very moment. I regretted it all because I knew that these criteria justified me sending her to her final death. So without hesitance, I reached into my bag, grabbing the pistol given to me. With a slight sound, I provoked her to turn around which is when I shot her point blank, sending the bullet directly through her head. After that, I proceeded to grab the hacksaw, which I was going to use to obtain her hand. The only problem with that was I feared I wouldn’t make a clean enough cut to keep the hand in good condition. With this in mind I soon found me guiltily bringing my knee down on her shoulder and upper arm, making the severance steady. “No. No” I heard in my voice, as if she could speak. But with my eyes shut tight, I finally managed to cut past bone and remove the hand.
The heartless moment I had obtaining the hand soon subsided ten minutes after walking back to the Scientist’s residence. I began feeling anxiety and fear instead. What if the hacksaw cuts into me and I become infected? What if somebody finds her body and hunts for me? What if there was a cure for her that I didn’t know about? Questions rushed into my mind, giving me the overall disappointment that I’d never have the answers. However, I was glad that they provided such a lengthy distraction for me to wonder about on the way back. When I got to the mansion, I soon rang the bell to have him welcome me in the same fashion as before.
“Greetings” He said once again through the peephole.
“Hey… I got the hand.”
“Excellent, let me see it.”
“I’m not pulling it out of the bag.”
“Very well, one moment please.”
Silence for a moment before a rope dropped from the second floor. He instructed me to tie the bag to it and he’d hoist it up. I did so and there was a silence. Soon enough the sounds of a welcoming creaking door were replaced with the sight of a new bag being thrown with a clean hacksaw and the pistol again.
“What’s this for?”
“A male species. I need a foot.”
“You’re kidding.” I contemplated shooting him, but chances where, I’d miss him, he was hidden behind the window and I didn’t know what he was working with weapons wise.
“You don’t expect me to extract data from just a female basis, do you?”
A brief pause. “But you said…”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t even think that you were even going to get me the first subject’s limb. You can consider that the test, this is just one last thing I need you to do. For me. For the human race.”
“… I’m hungry.” The only words I could muster with the immense sense of defeat residing inside of me.
Another pause. He was excellent with these. But soon enough, a box of assorted snacks landed at my feet. Treats with no nutritional value, but it didn’t matter. It was food. And sugary food, not some body's scraps. I smiled and examined the house. It was beautiful and worth one more infected. After all, he was right. This was to preserve people, not to injure them.
“I’ll be back with your infected foot.”
I found myself departing once again, but this time, with a mouth full of sugary cakes and cookies. At this moment, life was fantastic.
As I walked, I decided it’d be best to just retrace where I had taken the woman’s hand. Through the alleyway, I crept, hand gripped on pistol. And then I discovered something interesting.
The girl was gone.
A trail of blood, however led to her current whereabouts and I soon found myself following the long line of it. The farther I got, the darker it was becoming and the deeper within the slums I got. But eventually my trail led to an end point. Her sitting there propped up against a wall. That’s when I finally understood, this wasn’t a mistake of the infected’s stupidity. It was the exact opposite, indeed. It was a trap.
A snarling guttural growl made itself present as a quickly dodged out of the way, one of them charging to get me. It missed and happily, I realized that it was a he. I had found myself a male subject. Dropping to one knee, I pulled the pistol out, waiting for it to approach me. Once again, it barreled at me, breakneck speed, and soon met his fate by two bullets I shot. One to the throat, one to the head, he paused for a moment before dropping. I stood to my feet, scanning the area for more of the living dead, suspected that if he had set it up, there had to be more. Surprisingly there weren’t. With that reassurance, I once again wielded the hacksaw.
Marching home, I whistled. Within a day, my outlook would soon turned around. I’d see myself complete with a house to stay at for serving a scientist in his pursuit to conquer the sickness. It was an honorable thing, I thought by now of it. By no means was it fun to extract the parts, but all for good causes. I found myself at the door and knocked.
“Is it you?”
“Yes”
“Evidence?”
“Throw the rope down again”
He soon did and was surprised to see that inside the bag was the infected foot.
“One moment please.”
He came back downstairs. “Excellent job, I’m letting you in, okay?”
“Alright.” I said, trying to hide my immensejoy that I was going to make it in.
The door opened and with great delight, I took one large stride into the mansion in which I immediately found surprisingly deteriorated. Confused I turned to the Scientist to see one of them: bluish skin, sallow figure, the only difference being that he had a gun to my head.
And that’s when I realized…
———————————————————————————————————————
“Dinner!” The infected called. Soon he found his wife and son were downstairs with him, feasting on the next foolish person to believe that this was some sort of sanctuary.
“So why did this one take so long?” His wife asked, so hungry, she was tearing large tendons and major veins from his neck.
“Because,darling, he was special. He held out a bag, and like a present she excitedly tore through it.
“HONEY!!!” A pause before she reached in and grabbed it. “A hand for me?” She held it where her old hand would’ve been, had she not lost it a long time ago. “That’s not all.” He hobbled his foot and stub, grabbing the severed one the boy had collected earlier.
“I’ve got the sewing kit. We’ll attach them tonight.”
"Great. And what about the body? The wife said"
'The body' she was referring to of course was the man they were harvesting, left bound, trying to break free outside in the bushes.
"Oh." He contemplated. " We'll save him for another time"
The World Through That Peephole Was So Incredibly Skewered.
Derrick McCain
The world through my eyes hadn’t changed much since the reanimation of corpses. Capitalism still reigned, with food being the new essential rather than money. Sex still sold though, definitely as it has and will over civilizations for millenniums to come. The only problem other than that was the undead. Several factors played into their existence, first being their hunger. At first populating themselves by biting to the point of spreading the plague, they were finding that they no longer have the luxury. Instead, when one of the luckier ones does find a human pray, they end up devouring them to the bone with a malnourished savagery. This in turn is making them a dying breed. While this may be beneficial to the humans, it also tends to be problematic. While we started building our civilizations again, we started realizing the decrease of infected parties invading our grounds. This fearfully made us question whether or not the virus was dying completely or if they were just hiding a lot easier the bigger the cities became.
And that’s where we start. In the slums of New Haven, the new purgatory between hell and humanity where those rich of food and prostitutes flaunted it with armored trucks and armed guards covering them while the normal people scurried to find the last few canned goods left. I myself lived in the alleyways, the backstreets, and the dirty sidewalks in the city where the undead might hide. While paranoia was constant in my heart, I also had to deal with the constant pain in my stomach of longing for a meal. Today, a fourth hole had to be cut on my belt in order to get it to hold my pants up. Without government aid, people like me where known to disappear often for unknown reason, but usually in pursuit of something better. I myself don’t see anything else to compensate with other than what I have before me.
In order to live, my daily rounds usually consisted of begging; not receiving, then picking up what little of people’s scraps people left. At the age of 17, I was at an odd place where I was not perceived fully a man by society, but was not boyish enough to obtain sympathy. Many nights I spent cold, hungry and sunken in both defeat and shame of how low I had sank, my lack of morale to become a go-getter when it came to surviving, and the shape I had gotten in. Things wouldn’t look up for me until I met The Scientist.
It was a peculiar manner, the way we met, I was crossing the outskirts of the town, considering leaving, when I found an old Victorian looking mansion. Almost in disbelief, I moved closer to discover squirming in a bush.
“Don’t move any closer, he’s got a rifle.” A voice that I couldn’t trace said. I froze in my tracks.
“Your pockets. Empty them.” The gruff voice ordered and soon my pockets were inside out, showing him I had nothing.
“Alright, come here.”
I approached, finding the voice could be followed to the front door of the mansion.
“You look thin” He said.
“You can see me?” I questioned.
“Of course, I could see you though the peephole.”
That’s when I realized the world through that peephole must have been so soothing. So stable and luxurious, at least for this day and age.
“Do you have room in there?” I asked.
“Of course I do.”
“I?” I clarified.
“Yes. I’m alone, other than my guard there.” He pointed at the bush.
“Well… could I get a room in there?”
He laughed and there was a pause.
“What are you willing to do?”
“Just about anything”
“How about killing?”
There was a pause, my judgment began kicking in.
“Would it make you feel better if I assure you that they’ve already died once?”
That changed everything.
“I’d need equipment…”
And soon, the Scientist was instructing me to kill a female infected and bring her hand to him. From the top window, he threw down a small pistol, a hacksaw, and a garbage bag. I stalked the night, bag tucked away in my back pocket with the hacksaw and pistol in my front ones, waiting to find one of them. As I’ve mentioned before, it was very hard trying to locate one of the Reanimated with their heads still in tact, so I stayed in the most dangerous part of the New Haven, hunting.
And then, by a stroke of luck, I found her.
She swayed, hypnotized by hunger. She had a sallow, miserable appearance that almost made us akin. For a moment I lamented the light blue tint to her skin, the cataracts glazed over her eyes and the residue of blood and flesh that were probably wedged either under her fingernails or teeth at this very moment. I regretted it all because I knew that these criteria justified me sending her to her final death. So without hesitance, I reached into my bag, grabbing the pistol given to me. With a slight sound, I provoked her to turn around which is when I shot her point blank, sending the bullet directly through her head. After that, I proceeded to grab the hacksaw, which I was going to use to obtain her hand. The only problem with that was I feared I wouldn’t make a clean enough cut to keep the hand in good condition. With this in mind I soon found me guiltily bringing my knee down on her shoulder and upper arm, making the severance steady. “No. No” I heard in my voice, as if she could speak. But with my eyes shut tight, I finally managed to cut past bone and remove the hand.
The heartless moment I had obtaining the hand soon subsided ten minutes after walking back to the Scientist’s residence. I began feeling anxiety and fear instead. What if the hacksaw cuts into me and I become infected? What if somebody finds her body and hunts for me? What if there was a cure for her that I didn’t know about? Questions rushed into my mind, giving me the overall disappointment that I’d never have the answers. However, I was glad that they provided such a lengthy distraction for me to wonder about on the way back. When I got to the mansion, I soon rang the bell to have him welcome me in the same fashion as before.
“Greetings” He said once again through the peephole.
“Hey… I got the hand.”
“Excellent, let me see it.”
“I’m not pulling it out of the bag.”
“Very well, one moment please.”
Silence for a moment before a rope dropped from the second floor. He instructed me to tie the bag to it and he’d hoist it up. I did so and there was a silence. Soon enough the sounds of a welcoming creaking door were replaced with the sight of a new bag being thrown with a clean hacksaw and the pistol again.
“What’s this for?”
“A male species. I need a foot.”
“You’re kidding.” I contemplated shooting him, but chances where, I’d miss him, he was hidden behind the window and I didn’t know what he was working with weapons wise.
“You don’t expect me to extract data from just a female basis, do you?”
A brief pause. “But you said…”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t even think that you were even going to get me the first subject’s limb. You can consider that the test, this is just one last thing I need you to do. For me. For the human race.”
“… I’m hungry.” The only words I could muster with the immense sense of defeat residing inside of me.
Another pause. He was excellent with these. But soon enough, a box of assorted snacks landed at my feet. Treats with no nutritional value, but it didn’t matter. It was food. And sugary food, not some body's scraps. I smiled and examined the house. It was beautiful and worth one more infected. After all, he was right. This was to preserve people, not to injure them.
“I’ll be back with your infected foot.”
I found myself departing once again, but this time, with a mouth full of sugary cakes and cookies. At this moment, life was fantastic.
As I walked, I decided it’d be best to just retrace where I had taken the woman’s hand. Through the alleyway, I crept, hand gripped on pistol. And then I discovered something interesting.
The girl was gone.
A trail of blood, however led to her current whereabouts and I soon found myself following the long line of it. The farther I got, the darker it was becoming and the deeper within the slums I got. But eventually my trail led to an end point. Her sitting there propped up against a wall. That’s when I finally understood, this wasn’t a mistake of the infected’s stupidity. It was the exact opposite, indeed. It was a trap.
A snarling guttural growl made itself present as a quickly dodged out of the way, one of them charging to get me. It missed and happily, I realized that it was a he. I had found myself a male subject. Dropping to one knee, I pulled the pistol out, waiting for it to approach me. Once again, it barreled at me, breakneck speed, and soon met his fate by two bullets I shot. One to the throat, one to the head, he paused for a moment before dropping. I stood to my feet, scanning the area for more of the living dead, suspected that if he had set it up, there had to be more. Surprisingly there weren’t. With that reassurance, I once again wielded the hacksaw.
Marching home, I whistled. Within a day, my outlook would soon turned around. I’d see myself complete with a house to stay at for serving a scientist in his pursuit to conquer the sickness. It was an honorable thing, I thought by now of it. By no means was it fun to extract the parts, but all for good causes. I found myself at the door and knocked.
“Is it you?”
“Yes”
“Evidence?”
“Throw the rope down again”
He soon did and was surprised to see that inside the bag was the infected foot.
“One moment please.”
He came back downstairs. “Excellent job, I’m letting you in, okay?”
“Alright.” I said, trying to hide my immensejoy that I was going to make it in.
The door opened and with great delight, I took one large stride into the mansion in which I immediately found surprisingly deteriorated. Confused I turned to the Scientist to see one of them: bluish skin, sallow figure, the only difference being that he had a gun to my head.
And that’s when I realized…
———————————————————————————————————————
“Dinner!” The infected called. Soon he found his wife and son were downstairs with him, feasting on the next foolish person to believe that this was some sort of sanctuary.
“So why did this one take so long?” His wife asked, so hungry, she was tearing large tendons and major veins from his neck.
“Because,darling, he was special. He held out a bag, and like a present she excitedly tore through it.
“HONEY!!!” A pause before she reached in and grabbed it. “A hand for me?” She held it where her old hand would’ve been, had she not lost it a long time ago. “That’s not all.” He hobbled his foot and stub, grabbing the severed one the boy had collected earlier.
“I’ve got the sewing kit. We’ll attach them tonight.”
"Great. And what about the body? The wife said"
'The body' she was referring to of course was the man they were harvesting, left bound, trying to break free outside in the bushes.
"Oh." He contemplated. " We'll save him for another time"
The World Through That Peephole Was So Incredibly Skewered.
Script I'll Be Working On
Originally The Sanctuary (A Virgin Society)
822 Days Until Comedown:
It is dark outside. All the time. And we're, I think. We're old enough now, old enough to rip the feeding tubes out of our arms just as the umbilical chord is separated from a mommy and her baby. A boy told us that today. He knew because he was 10 when we got sent up here, he had a really good memory. I'm only 8, but that's all I know, hopefully all the kids here will remember something about themselves with me, like the ten year old boy. Maybe we could all be friends.
820 Days Until Comedown:
Today the 10 year old boy found a whole bunch of movies in the back of the ship. He put them on and there is a lady who calls herself the 'mother' of all of us. I don't know if it's true but she has a bunch of pictures of us, and next to them, she said our names, so here's mine.
Hello. My name is Samuel.
267 Days Until Comedown:
There are so many things to learn today. Mother has taught us all our vocabulary and customs of culture. She says she can't tell us everything, because she wants us all to experience things for ourselves. She keeps crying in all of her videos. Nobody knows why. All we do all day is sit and look forward to more videos of her, take notes, learn everything possible. This is how we will come to fine an explanation to being in space. And by the way, she has revealed that we're in space.
Samuel
128 Days Until Comedown
Study Study Study, a constant staple in our day. After that though, we eat our food and say hello to our friends. I have a few friends here but I remain closest to the boy who first revealed to me what an umbilical cord was. His name is Daniel and he knows most of the things that we learned earlier, like writing, but still we sit and wonder, why had mother cry? What had upset our mother in every single lesson she recorded, no matter what it was about? He tells me has memories of adults talking behind closed doors, shipping us off into space. We learned about what a family was today and what boys and girls do to make babies. Our ship was disgusted and for the whole day girls and boys remained separated from each other, until dinner that was. But thinking of everything, it really made me wonder, did my mom and dad care about me?
77 Days Until Comedown
And so all is revealed. Mother, she cries because she had to let go of us. She actually tells us its because she's crying for all of the women here. All of the mom's and dad's who've had to give up their children. Its hard aging from 8 to 10 on a spaceship with no concept of what life is really supposed to be like. Boys don't know how to treat girls; we don't know the concepts of society. All we know is mother. On the bright side, we're learning more and more about this thing called the comedown. Mother has changed her focus from World History to recent history. We don't know what it is yet, but hopefully it means us getting out of here.
Samuel
60 Days Until Comedown
Daniel steadily is learning on his own. Much older, he's learning how to operate a craft such as the one we're on currently. He's learning about the great societies of time, like Mayans and Incans and people such as that. He told me of pilgrims and all things through history. I stay interested, but I fear he's become engulfed in this work. Constantly studying, he doesn't even play the games as we all do. Instead he sits and reads.
Samuel
28 Days Until Comedown
Our history lesson in class: 2 years ago a different species invaded our planet. It took over our bodies and altered a mind. A closed- door- group of scientist decided there was only one way to prevent the spread- by bombing everything. A few parents were told the truth and that's where we came in. We were sent up into space when they dropped the bomb that would kill most of the species. They said themselves, the chemicals were made to make sure that no human lived, but where we should be landing, and that there'd be a safe house full of canned goods. We were given mom to learn to cook and clean and live without adults. We were supposed to come down, she says. Come down and hit the earth with the hard built top of the ship. She tells us that if we land and there's knocking, not to open the door.
Samuel
The Comedown
We hit the ground, hard. In an odd form of synchronization, the last video played and she told us to wait for noises. Nothing. The boys and girls filed out accordingly to what they saw as a safe house. The ground resembled ash, almost like a thing called snow that we learned about, but more pale. The air smelled harsh and hurt my lungs a bit. I couldn't wait until we got into the house. And when we finally did, as promised, cans of food remained everywhere from our ancestors. Because we had learned to cook food on the ship, such variety made it exhilarating for us. Daniel stayed in the ship uneasy though and as we all gathered happily, he remained paranoid.
We went inside and saw magazines. The magazine had a bunch of older women and dresses and muscular men. They almost looked like gods and I wondered if they were to the men and women who died before us. But my thoughts were thrown aside to the knocking, no, the rapping at the door. Quickly one of us locked it and we saw it was not a child as we were. Quickly, we ran upstairs for cover, and then found a weapon. We heard a large noise, which I thought was the window breaking, but when we looked out we saw that it was Daniel outside, making the noise. He was igniting the spacecraft, trying to launch off again. Against the ship, adults bleeding from the fingernails clawed at it, making a high pitch squealing noise we had never heard of. For a moment, he seemed at peace, launching the ship; I thought all of the hard work, all of the isolation, had gone in his favor. But that glimpse of hope was interrupted by a glimpse of a spark instead, showing the imminent fate of Daniel. The spark turned to a fire, the fire turned to an explosion and he was gone, leaving us alone. The used- to be adults came to us again now, banging on the doors of our little house and we all started crying. And for once, I felt emotions that mother used to teach us. I felt sad, I felt scared, but partly, I felt angry. I took the weapon and went downstairs. The Comedown wasn't what we expected but maybe if I made this land our own, we would find a way to survive.
Samuel
Now The Comedown (In the works)
The scene starts with a shuttle floating in space, slowly with the stars passing by. Soon enough, a woman and a man’s voice accompany the setting.
Woman: Do you think they’re in space by now?
Man: Should be
The woman pauses for a moment before asking hesitantly:
Woman: Do you think they’ll be alright up there?
Man: Should be.
Woman: Do you think….
Man: Listen, darling, we have to stop asking questions. What’s done is done. The most you can do is say a prayer. Do you know any prayers?
Woman: I can’t say I know any from heart…
Man: Well maybe you should go home. Learn a couple. Our days are numbered now, and we need god in the worst way.
The speaking stops. A boy opens his eye to reveal a vibrant green iris. A very blurry image is shown, perhaps a slightly shaking camera or a distorted, seeing double type of panel to convey his hard breathing. The name: Adam appears in the right hand corner, next to his eye.
Next, the incubation tube he is in opens and the mask on his face is lifted. Three quick shots show first him snatching the Iv’s out of each arm and then stretching, fingers interlaced, leaned backwards, cracking his bones and his knuckles. After that he looks ahead and a back shot of Adam reveals over his shoulder several incubation tanks, one of them opening. Behind him a kid yells.
???: Hey!
Adam turns and sees a boy with a short hair, cow-licked at the side and thick framed glasses.
???: How old are you?
Adam: I’m 16.
The boy nods approvingly, and crosses his arms.
???: Well I’m 17. I think the machines open by age.
Adam turns around while the first littler boy steps out of the incubation tube.
Adam: Hey kid, how old are you?
Child: 12.
Adam turns back to the kid.
Adam: Yeah I think it does too.
The next part shows kids filing out. Holding up their age in fingers and mouthing “____ years old” with a narrative of Adam in the background.
Adam: One by one, all of the children where exiting in confusion.
Then smaller tubes begin rising and babies start to cry inside of their tanks.
Adam: Minus a select few.
Adam and the 17 year old pick up two babies, wrapping them in blankets. All of the sudden, next to the door, a TV lowers with a young woman’s face (if acted out, this is the same woman from the shuttle discussion earlier)
Woman: Hello children.
Adam: Where are we?
The Comedown
Title sequence is shown.
822 Days Until Comedown:
It is dark outside. All the time. And we're, I think. We're old enough now, old enough to rip the feeding tubes out of our arms just as the umbilical chord is separated from a mommy and her baby. A boy told us that today. He knew because he was 10 when we got sent up here, he had a really good memory. I'm only 8, but that's all I know, hopefully all the kids here will remember something about themselves with me, like the ten year old boy. Maybe we could all be friends.
820 Days Until Comedown:
Today the 10 year old boy found a whole bunch of movies in the back of the ship. He put them on and there is a lady who calls herself the 'mother' of all of us. I don't know if it's true but she has a bunch of pictures of us, and next to them, she said our names, so here's mine.
Hello. My name is Samuel.
267 Days Until Comedown:
There are so many things to learn today. Mother has taught us all our vocabulary and customs of culture. She says she can't tell us everything, because she wants us all to experience things for ourselves. She keeps crying in all of her videos. Nobody knows why. All we do all day is sit and look forward to more videos of her, take notes, learn everything possible. This is how we will come to fine an explanation to being in space. And by the way, she has revealed that we're in space.
Samuel
128 Days Until Comedown
Study Study Study, a constant staple in our day. After that though, we eat our food and say hello to our friends. I have a few friends here but I remain closest to the boy who first revealed to me what an umbilical cord was. His name is Daniel and he knows most of the things that we learned earlier, like writing, but still we sit and wonder, why had mother cry? What had upset our mother in every single lesson she recorded, no matter what it was about? He tells me has memories of adults talking behind closed doors, shipping us off into space. We learned about what a family was today and what boys and girls do to make babies. Our ship was disgusted and for the whole day girls and boys remained separated from each other, until dinner that was. But thinking of everything, it really made me wonder, did my mom and dad care about me?
77 Days Until Comedown
And so all is revealed. Mother, she cries because she had to let go of us. She actually tells us its because she's crying for all of the women here. All of the mom's and dad's who've had to give up their children. Its hard aging from 8 to 10 on a spaceship with no concept of what life is really supposed to be like. Boys don't know how to treat girls; we don't know the concepts of society. All we know is mother. On the bright side, we're learning more and more about this thing called the comedown. Mother has changed her focus from World History to recent history. We don't know what it is yet, but hopefully it means us getting out of here.
Samuel
60 Days Until Comedown
Daniel steadily is learning on his own. Much older, he's learning how to operate a craft such as the one we're on currently. He's learning about the great societies of time, like Mayans and Incans and people such as that. He told me of pilgrims and all things through history. I stay interested, but I fear he's become engulfed in this work. Constantly studying, he doesn't even play the games as we all do. Instead he sits and reads.
Samuel
28 Days Until Comedown
Our history lesson in class: 2 years ago a different species invaded our planet. It took over our bodies and altered a mind. A closed- door- group of scientist decided there was only one way to prevent the spread- by bombing everything. A few parents were told the truth and that's where we came in. We were sent up into space when they dropped the bomb that would kill most of the species. They said themselves, the chemicals were made to make sure that no human lived, but where we should be landing, and that there'd be a safe house full of canned goods. We were given mom to learn to cook and clean and live without adults. We were supposed to come down, she says. Come down and hit the earth with the hard built top of the ship. She tells us that if we land and there's knocking, not to open the door.
Samuel
The Comedown
We hit the ground, hard. In an odd form of synchronization, the last video played and she told us to wait for noises. Nothing. The boys and girls filed out accordingly to what they saw as a safe house. The ground resembled ash, almost like a thing called snow that we learned about, but more pale. The air smelled harsh and hurt my lungs a bit. I couldn't wait until we got into the house. And when we finally did, as promised, cans of food remained everywhere from our ancestors. Because we had learned to cook food on the ship, such variety made it exhilarating for us. Daniel stayed in the ship uneasy though and as we all gathered happily, he remained paranoid.
We went inside and saw magazines. The magazine had a bunch of older women and dresses and muscular men. They almost looked like gods and I wondered if they were to the men and women who died before us. But my thoughts were thrown aside to the knocking, no, the rapping at the door. Quickly one of us locked it and we saw it was not a child as we were. Quickly, we ran upstairs for cover, and then found a weapon. We heard a large noise, which I thought was the window breaking, but when we looked out we saw that it was Daniel outside, making the noise. He was igniting the spacecraft, trying to launch off again. Against the ship, adults bleeding from the fingernails clawed at it, making a high pitch squealing noise we had never heard of. For a moment, he seemed at peace, launching the ship; I thought all of the hard work, all of the isolation, had gone in his favor. But that glimpse of hope was interrupted by a glimpse of a spark instead, showing the imminent fate of Daniel. The spark turned to a fire, the fire turned to an explosion and he was gone, leaving us alone. The used- to be adults came to us again now, banging on the doors of our little house and we all started crying. And for once, I felt emotions that mother used to teach us. I felt sad, I felt scared, but partly, I felt angry. I took the weapon and went downstairs. The Comedown wasn't what we expected but maybe if I made this land our own, we would find a way to survive.
Samuel
Now The Comedown (In the works)
The scene starts with a shuttle floating in space, slowly with the stars passing by. Soon enough, a woman and a man’s voice accompany the setting.
Woman: Do you think they’re in space by now?
Man: Should be
The woman pauses for a moment before asking hesitantly:
Woman: Do you think they’ll be alright up there?
Man: Should be.
Woman: Do you think….
Man: Listen, darling, we have to stop asking questions. What’s done is done. The most you can do is say a prayer. Do you know any prayers?
Woman: I can’t say I know any from heart…
Man: Well maybe you should go home. Learn a couple. Our days are numbered now, and we need god in the worst way.
The speaking stops. A boy opens his eye to reveal a vibrant green iris. A very blurry image is shown, perhaps a slightly shaking camera or a distorted, seeing double type of panel to convey his hard breathing. The name: Adam appears in the right hand corner, next to his eye.
Next, the incubation tube he is in opens and the mask on his face is lifted. Three quick shots show first him snatching the Iv’s out of each arm and then stretching, fingers interlaced, leaned backwards, cracking his bones and his knuckles. After that he looks ahead and a back shot of Adam reveals over his shoulder several incubation tanks, one of them opening. Behind him a kid yells.
???: Hey!
Adam turns and sees a boy with a short hair, cow-licked at the side and thick framed glasses.
???: How old are you?
Adam: I’m 16.
The boy nods approvingly, and crosses his arms.
???: Well I’m 17. I think the machines open by age.
Adam turns around while the first littler boy steps out of the incubation tube.
Adam: Hey kid, how old are you?
Child: 12.
Adam turns back to the kid.
Adam: Yeah I think it does too.
The next part shows kids filing out. Holding up their age in fingers and mouthing “____ years old” with a narrative of Adam in the background.
Adam: One by one, all of the children where exiting in confusion.
Then smaller tubes begin rising and babies start to cry inside of their tanks.
Adam: Minus a select few.
Adam and the 17 year old pick up two babies, wrapping them in blankets. All of the sudden, next to the door, a TV lowers with a young woman’s face (if acted out, this is the same woman from the shuttle discussion earlier)
Woman: Hello children.
Adam: Where are we?
The Comedown
Title sequence is shown.
Valor's Inferno
This was it. This is what I had worked up to.
I had gone through every local known thug up to every suave, silver-tongued drug dealer, to CEO’s of companies, through known and famous Hitmen and Assasins. In these slums, I struck fear by turning the underbelly upside down, killing anybody involved, anybody who I couldn’t exort, anybody who tried to kill me.
The ones that cooperated finally did with torture, they screamed and tried to wriggle away in pain until I got it out of them- Ideas of who’s idea was it, who was their superior, in other words, who was higher up the ladder. The information began to build and build as I found new ways to scare them. Hanging them off of buildings, threatening their friends, their family, sometimes dousing them in gasoline. All of this was for one person, all I needed was one person to end all of this.
My Son.
Anthony was a young boy with eyes the color of skies I used to watch when I was his age.He had the same personality as the younger me too, wanted to rather play outside rather than keep up with the latest technology. A deep love for his mother, a respect and longing to be more like his father. He barely argued, barely put up much of a struggle, always remained happy. I missed him dearly and could still remember his blue and white striped shirt when they took him. The half chocolate/half strawberry ice cream cone that fell out of his hand when they grabbed him. The three ants on the sidewalk traveling together when I fell, chasing the car that took him. The tread of the wheel’s, screeching off, you remember so distinctly moments like that. And they haven’t left for the 29 days I’ve been doing this manhunt, looking for my son.
But now, I can finally say, this is it.
“Look away” I told my son. I had his captor by his throat, the one who had asked for the ransom. I wanted to see him die, I wanted to see him die by my bare hands. My soon curled in a ball, in trauma, it was something I both regretted seeing but couldn’t by being motivated to grip the captor’s neck tighter. As he almost went limp, I felt it, the release of my anguish, my anger, I had saved my son.
A crash. A man comes in with a sub machine gun, dropping the body, I pulled my pistol from my hip. He fires, hitting me with each of the multiple shots. But before he could empty his clip, I let go a shot of my own, hitting him in his head. He fell, dead instantly. Would neighbors here in this large apartment? No it was abandoned, now the workings of the Slumlord I had just killed. I was fine in that department, but as I looked down, my body stood as a different case. One, two…seven eight nine holes in my body. Anthony looked up at me now, tears in his eyes. I was just glad to see him. I smiled.” Buddy, don’t worry, I’m fine” I grabbed him, throwing him over my shoulder and ran.
My body was growing week and I was on the seventh floor. Six more flights of stairs, I continued running. I love you I continued saying and Anthony returned with a stuffed nose and a sadness caught in his throat. “I- I lub yew too” He answered congested. I smiled for the first time since he was kidnapped. “I miss you” I told him.
Ground floor and I had finally made it. Being in New York, I ran outside to heavy rain and hailed a taxi. “Take him to Spooner street” I said handing the driver a wad of cash and Anthony some too. “When you get home, tell mommy I love her, okay Anthony?” His eyes grew wide and so did the driver. Both voices clashed, the driver asking if I needed medical attention and Anthony asking why I wasn’t coming. “Don’t worry” I directed towards the both of them. “You just drive. Anthony, I love you.” I slammed the door and the cab left, Anthony watching me. I knew he was safe now. Another smile, but this time, tears too. They ran down my face as I felt victory, and a great happiness in my son’s well being. I collapsed to the ground, smiling with my clothes dampened, I actually felt warm, and at first I though that my soul was flying up into the sky.
And then I realized that it was.
…
I woke up at a desk, me in one chair in the other facing me was a man I didn’t know, but I quickly gathered. “You’re…”
“Yes Daniel, I’m God.”
I remained stunned, watching his figure, he looked familiar to me. “Why do you look like-“
“Everybody perceives me differently, there is no right answer or no wrong answer, you yourself view me as the first manager who had ever given you a job interview.”
I still stood a bit dazzled.
“Furthermore, Daniel let’s talk about your actions.”
A pinch first grabbed at my stomach and then everywhere. Anxiety. “Sir, you have to understand, that man had taken my son.”
“And what where your grounds for torturing the other men.”
“…”
“What about their families, their loved ones, what about how much stress and trauma they have received. Furthermore could you not have gotten in contact with the police, could you have reached out for any other type of help?”
“…”
“I make humans and with them I create several routes for them to go, but I am not the one who makes your decisions, and for yours,you have put a lot of men where you are right now. Is there anything else you could say to justify your actions in your mind?”
“I just wanted my son.”
“And unfortunately you lived in a very violent culture, but I can’t make that an excuse for you. I hope you understand, son, I’m going to have to send you into hell.”
Fear. Fear was the only thing on my mind.
“You will be able to return one day, but I will not tell you then. Until then, you must face repayment for your sins. After you have however, you will find yourself in Heaven where you can view your family. I’m sorry this has to be done, but truly, my son, you have sinned. Is there anything else you would like to say?”
I nodded, first apologized. Then I asked what religion’s Hell it would be.
He told me all things are forgiven with time and that all of the religions made by man were wrong. Their concept was correct, their efforts are noted and credited, but they truly could not fathom the reality of Heaven and Hell.
Those were the last words before he led me to a door, saw me off, and left me there. Surprisingly no fire, just a decayed city. However in a distance I heard screeching from a pack of people. Half were demons and the other half were the men I killed, scarred from their own personal hell, they sought after me for revenge for where I had brought them. So I ran. It has been my punishment ever since. Honestly, I could say it’s the worse thing I have ever experienced and must experience from day to day, running for my life and hiding, sometimes even wishing they caught me so we could get it over with, I knew it would never happen. The anxiety was my punishment, the thought, the fact that I was reconsidering things was what God wanted me to take from this. When I would be saved, I didn’t know, but remained comforted by the fact that right now, on a different plane of life, my son lay safely in his bed.
I had gone through every local known thug up to every suave, silver-tongued drug dealer, to CEO’s of companies, through known and famous Hitmen and Assasins. In these slums, I struck fear by turning the underbelly upside down, killing anybody involved, anybody who I couldn’t exort, anybody who tried to kill me.
The ones that cooperated finally did with torture, they screamed and tried to wriggle away in pain until I got it out of them- Ideas of who’s idea was it, who was their superior, in other words, who was higher up the ladder. The information began to build and build as I found new ways to scare them. Hanging them off of buildings, threatening their friends, their family, sometimes dousing them in gasoline. All of this was for one person, all I needed was one person to end all of this.
My Son.
Anthony was a young boy with eyes the color of skies I used to watch when I was his age.He had the same personality as the younger me too, wanted to rather play outside rather than keep up with the latest technology. A deep love for his mother, a respect and longing to be more like his father. He barely argued, barely put up much of a struggle, always remained happy. I missed him dearly and could still remember his blue and white striped shirt when they took him. The half chocolate/half strawberry ice cream cone that fell out of his hand when they grabbed him. The three ants on the sidewalk traveling together when I fell, chasing the car that took him. The tread of the wheel’s, screeching off, you remember so distinctly moments like that. And they haven’t left for the 29 days I’ve been doing this manhunt, looking for my son.
But now, I can finally say, this is it.
“Look away” I told my son. I had his captor by his throat, the one who had asked for the ransom. I wanted to see him die, I wanted to see him die by my bare hands. My soon curled in a ball, in trauma, it was something I both regretted seeing but couldn’t by being motivated to grip the captor’s neck tighter. As he almost went limp, I felt it, the release of my anguish, my anger, I had saved my son.
A crash. A man comes in with a sub machine gun, dropping the body, I pulled my pistol from my hip. He fires, hitting me with each of the multiple shots. But before he could empty his clip, I let go a shot of my own, hitting him in his head. He fell, dead instantly. Would neighbors here in this large apartment? No it was abandoned, now the workings of the Slumlord I had just killed. I was fine in that department, but as I looked down, my body stood as a different case. One, two…seven eight nine holes in my body. Anthony looked up at me now, tears in his eyes. I was just glad to see him. I smiled.” Buddy, don’t worry, I’m fine” I grabbed him, throwing him over my shoulder and ran.
My body was growing week and I was on the seventh floor. Six more flights of stairs, I continued running. I love you I continued saying and Anthony returned with a stuffed nose and a sadness caught in his throat. “I- I lub yew too” He answered congested. I smiled for the first time since he was kidnapped. “I miss you” I told him.
Ground floor and I had finally made it. Being in New York, I ran outside to heavy rain and hailed a taxi. “Take him to Spooner street” I said handing the driver a wad of cash and Anthony some too. “When you get home, tell mommy I love her, okay Anthony?” His eyes grew wide and so did the driver. Both voices clashed, the driver asking if I needed medical attention and Anthony asking why I wasn’t coming. “Don’t worry” I directed towards the both of them. “You just drive. Anthony, I love you.” I slammed the door and the cab left, Anthony watching me. I knew he was safe now. Another smile, but this time, tears too. They ran down my face as I felt victory, and a great happiness in my son’s well being. I collapsed to the ground, smiling with my clothes dampened, I actually felt warm, and at first I though that my soul was flying up into the sky.
And then I realized that it was.
…
I woke up at a desk, me in one chair in the other facing me was a man I didn’t know, but I quickly gathered. “You’re…”
“Yes Daniel, I’m God.”
I remained stunned, watching his figure, he looked familiar to me. “Why do you look like-“
“Everybody perceives me differently, there is no right answer or no wrong answer, you yourself view me as the first manager who had ever given you a job interview.”
I still stood a bit dazzled.
“Furthermore, Daniel let’s talk about your actions.”
A pinch first grabbed at my stomach and then everywhere. Anxiety. “Sir, you have to understand, that man had taken my son.”
“And what where your grounds for torturing the other men.”
“…”
“What about their families, their loved ones, what about how much stress and trauma they have received. Furthermore could you not have gotten in contact with the police, could you have reached out for any other type of help?”
“…”
“I make humans and with them I create several routes for them to go, but I am not the one who makes your decisions, and for yours,you have put a lot of men where you are right now. Is there anything else you could say to justify your actions in your mind?”
“I just wanted my son.”
“And unfortunately you lived in a very violent culture, but I can’t make that an excuse for you. I hope you understand, son, I’m going to have to send you into hell.”
Fear. Fear was the only thing on my mind.
“You will be able to return one day, but I will not tell you then. Until then, you must face repayment for your sins. After you have however, you will find yourself in Heaven where you can view your family. I’m sorry this has to be done, but truly, my son, you have sinned. Is there anything else you would like to say?”
I nodded, first apologized. Then I asked what religion’s Hell it would be.
He told me all things are forgiven with time and that all of the religions made by man were wrong. Their concept was correct, their efforts are noted and credited, but they truly could not fathom the reality of Heaven and Hell.
Those were the last words before he led me to a door, saw me off, and left me there. Surprisingly no fire, just a decayed city. However in a distance I heard screeching from a pack of people. Half were demons and the other half were the men I killed, scarred from their own personal hell, they sought after me for revenge for where I had brought them. So I ran. It has been my punishment ever since. Honestly, I could say it’s the worse thing I have ever experienced and must experience from day to day, running for my life and hiding, sometimes even wishing they caught me so we could get it over with, I knew it would never happen. The anxiety was my punishment, the thought, the fact that I was reconsidering things was what God wanted me to take from this. When I would be saved, I didn’t know, but remained comforted by the fact that right now, on a different plane of life, my son lay safely in his bed.
War
For every good thought I have, I draw my rifle, adjust the scope, and shoot a bird down. When he lands the into the water, I dive in to retrieve him and then begin the process of plucking the feathers and cooking. This is our only meal, seeing how we’re on sail on a giant shoe, so I must get a lot of good ideas to be able to feed us daily.
The Shoe is a large boot with the foot slightly curved upwards. The sole peels back a little bit, allowing us to sail. We use the laces as paddles and we’ve never found a problem, the three of us all sleeping together on the same part of it.
As far as the other two, the extra passengers are Beatrix and Claude. Beatrix is a storm calmer and sings away all of the tidal waves, hurricanes and rogue waves away from us. She wears earthy clothes and her glasses hang low to about the tip of her nose, only to raise slightly towards the bridge of it when she smiles. She enjoys wading in the water with her bare feet and couldn’t be happier with or without the food I fetch, as long as she has me and Claude.
Claude is my age, but acts much only. He wears clothing from the Victorian period, though it seems a bit tattered. He has a short coat that reaches to about his thighs that is blue with white buttons. He looks at the world mostly through a gold telescope that slides out, but when he isn’t doing that he’s looking at maps to get an idea of where we’re at. He talks about getting home, to land but I don’t think he cares either way, as long as it’s an adventure with us.
Me I scout the food. I wait on good ideas to pop into my head and use them as my good luck charm. When I think good thoughts, then it guides my bullets to never miss. Then the residue from my bullet reaches the inside of the bird and always makes us think positively.
Together, we sit while the bird cooks in the opening of the shoe, at the heel. Smoke floats to the top as I lay flat, Beatrix hums, wading her feet, and Claude shouts captains commands, blond curly hair blowing in the wind. My rifle lay inside the toe of the boot and my mind lay inside a deep sedative sleep.
Please, nobody ever wake me up.
The Shoe is a large boot with the foot slightly curved upwards. The sole peels back a little bit, allowing us to sail. We use the laces as paddles and we’ve never found a problem, the three of us all sleeping together on the same part of it.
As far as the other two, the extra passengers are Beatrix and Claude. Beatrix is a storm calmer and sings away all of the tidal waves, hurricanes and rogue waves away from us. She wears earthy clothes and her glasses hang low to about the tip of her nose, only to raise slightly towards the bridge of it when she smiles. She enjoys wading in the water with her bare feet and couldn’t be happier with or without the food I fetch, as long as she has me and Claude.
Claude is my age, but acts much only. He wears clothing from the Victorian period, though it seems a bit tattered. He has a short coat that reaches to about his thighs that is blue with white buttons. He looks at the world mostly through a gold telescope that slides out, but when he isn’t doing that he’s looking at maps to get an idea of where we’re at. He talks about getting home, to land but I don’t think he cares either way, as long as it’s an adventure with us.
Me I scout the food. I wait on good ideas to pop into my head and use them as my good luck charm. When I think good thoughts, then it guides my bullets to never miss. Then the residue from my bullet reaches the inside of the bird and always makes us think positively.
Together, we sit while the bird cooks in the opening of the shoe, at the heel. Smoke floats to the top as I lay flat, Beatrix hums, wading her feet, and Claude shouts captains commands, blond curly hair blowing in the wind. My rifle lay inside the toe of the boot and my mind lay inside a deep sedative sleep.
Please, nobody ever wake me up.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Excersize for fiction writers
Write the first 250 words of a short story, but write them in ONE SENTENCE. Make sure that the sentence is grammatically correct and punctuated correctly. This exercise is intended to increase your powers in sentence writing.
On the walls he drew beautiful things. He drew self contained fires, huge animals that people could control by pulling and objects that would be able to send us into the sky. He told of great stories too, of him and the woman he found whom he was in love with. How after much pain, she created a smaller animal that resembled him whom which he hoped would grow even further. It cried and when it did, she would throw it over her shoulder or give him her breast and it would silence. Everything was all so fascinating. Soon he said, although would hunt some more, but eventually, he would find these small things that he found next to the grass and in fruits and put it under the ground. There he had hoped that they would grow so he could settle down with his woman and the small animal that would eventually grow also. He called himself Wheel and although I couldn’t understand him all of the time, I knew that he was different. He was a creator and would soon change our world far past to capacity. It would be filled with easier ways to meet each other, instant food, stable shelter, and better weapons. His ideas always amused me and though I was sure they I’d never see them happen, I felt good knowing that there was such an imaginative mind to come up with all of these ideas. Though he disappeared long ago, his thoughts remained in me even to make me think of what it would be like if I invented something. I couldn’t think, but if I ever did, it would surely be named after him.
One sentence:
The future must have seemed so far away from the caveman
On the walls he drew beautiful things. He drew self contained fires, huge animals that people could control by pulling and objects that would be able to send us into the sky. He told of great stories too, of him and the woman he found whom he was in love with. How after much pain, she created a smaller animal that resembled him whom which he hoped would grow even further. It cried and when it did, she would throw it over her shoulder or give him her breast and it would silence. Everything was all so fascinating. Soon he said, although would hunt some more, but eventually, he would find these small things that he found next to the grass and in fruits and put it under the ground. There he had hoped that they would grow so he could settle down with his woman and the small animal that would eventually grow also. He called himself Wheel and although I couldn’t understand him all of the time, I knew that he was different. He was a creator and would soon change our world far past to capacity. It would be filled with easier ways to meet each other, instant food, stable shelter, and better weapons. His ideas always amused me and though I was sure they I’d never see them happen, I felt good knowing that there was such an imaginative mind to come up with all of these ideas. Though he disappeared long ago, his thoughts remained in me even to make me think of what it would be like if I invented something. I couldn’t think, but if I ever did, it would surely be named after him.
One sentence:
The future must have seemed so far away from the caveman
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Getaway
On the plane I remain edgy. I haven't vacationed in quite some time, and now was an especially bad time with me, seeing how we were closing a deal with a major company and my wife surprises me with these plane tickets to The Bahamas or The Caribbean, to be honest it all becomes one big blur after a while. When you're a man of my stature you grow tired of visiting such exotic places. After a while you realize that the veneer of such beautiful places has to come at a price and in the end that's all it was about. Me, I preferred being CEO to a technology company that I'd rather not name, but the point was, we were pretty well known around the world. With my brief case always in hand, I was a man of action known in my company for always being efficient and effective. But having my briefcase without using it served as somewhat different to me and overall disappointing`. Needless to say, I didn't want to be on this vacation.
My wife gives me a peck on the cheek and gets up she says she'll be back, and heads for the bathroom. I quickly check my phones emails, responding to one of my employees on advice he asked of me. I ask for the latest information that I could view on my smart phone and by the time I can look up from the phone, there's my wife, standing with hands-on-hips with that popular disapproving look that women tend to give to husbands, even if he didn't do anything wrong.
We don't talk for the last hour of the ride to The Bahamas (flight attendant clarified for me)and when we get to the hotel, I finally ask her what was wrong with what I did and why she gave me that look. She simply sat me on the bed and gave me a massage. As her fingers danced across my back, applying pressure, I realized this was one of the best massages I'd had in ages. "I just want you to relax, okay? Now Liam, I know you're a hard worker, but everybody's got to take a brake sometimes." She continued to relieve the tension in my shoulders. Then she arched her head around and gave me a kiss. Two. Three. As I held her, we continued kissing, and found ourselves lying down. We paused for a moment and she just looked at me and smiled.Her hazel eyes staring into mine, we shared a moment of silent intimacy. And then my phone vibrated on the nightstand.
A look. A stone cold look from her that clearly spoke against my thoughts. But I finally voiced myself against those once beautiful now deadly eyes. "You know I have to get that." I told her. She let one big regrettable sigh out, then got a few things, and left the hotel room, slamming the door. There was always time to make up with her, but this was crucial information. I picked up the phone and viewed the presentation from our Tech Company. It was horrible, an absolutely dreadful and sloppy presentation. I called one of the subordinates responsible for the presentation and preceded to lose my mind. For fifteen minutes I stayed pacing in my room calling the man I hardly knew or worked with everything I could fathom until eventually, I began leaving the hotel. I figured while I was on the phone, I might as well find my wife so I could get off of it and apologize to her. "My wife brought me here on surprise so I could relax for once, Dan. And as soon as I leave, I find that you're completely incapable of a simple task given to you." He pauses. "Well why are you on the phone with me?" Dan said in a voice with both criticism and an attempt at still sounding respectful. I sneered at his comment. "What was that Dan?" His voice raised a bit. "Shouldn't you be spending time with your wife wherever you are vacationing , with pay, mind you, while I sit and work my ass of, would you please mind Liam?" Walking out of the door, I covered my eyes and shook my head. "YOU REFER TO ME AS MR. JAMES WHEN YOU SPEAK TO ME DANIEL, MR. LIAM JAMES." Then after yelling I noticed two things. First of all, I had lost the call. Second of all, I was in a large cornfield, and when I turned to look at the hotel, it had disappeared.
"What the hell is going on?" I said, pushing my way past stalks of corn. I spoke to myself and only myself. I saw nobody around me. "Where the hell am I?" I said in a panicked voice as my feet began picking up and I began running through the stalks, pushing them all with force. I ran for quite some time, maybe a mile or so, before I got weak and decided that there was no way out of here by foot. So I sat down and from my briefcase that I always carried, I pulled out my laptop and checked for connection. Nothing. I pulled open my phone and tried to call somebody. Nothing. I tried my wife, Dan, even 911. Nobody was there. I found myself curled into a ball doing something I hadn't done in about 20 years. I was crying.
Waking up I found my blazer tucked under my head and that I had cried myself to sleep. I looked around to find myself still in the field. I used my cellphone as a flashlight and searched for signs of life. Nothing there once again, so I just laid down and looked at the stars. "God. I'm not in Heaven. I'm not even in Hell, it's like I'm in purgatory." I said staring at the stars. Next thing I know there's a whisper from each side of me.
"We can help"
"Yeah we can help you"
I looked left to right and to my surprise, I saw two boys I had known for a long time, lying down next to me staring at the stars as well. "Billy? Thompson? Is it really you?" They both nodded. These two where imaginary friends that I had conjured up when I was young and didn't have many friends. But now they where here, flesh and bone. They where here for me even as a hardened grumpy, aging , middle aged businessman. "What are you guys doing here?" They smiled. "We're here to make the best out of a bad situation!" Billy said. "We're going to play hide and seek." Thompson shouted out. And for the first time in a long time again, I felt another emotion I hadn't felt in a while: happiness. I only wish my wife was here. So before we went to play I picked up my laptop and wrote my wife one last letter. Then I got up and amongst the stars and the fireflies, played the greatest game of hide and go seek ever played.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mrs. James leaves the hotel after finding out her husband died of a heart attack in the doorway of the entrance. But this is not the only thing she finds. In a field of flowers, she swears she sees Liam James' laptop, and on it the document that reads:
I've loved you and have always loved you Babara. I wish you where here and I hope that you'll be okay.
My wife gives me a peck on the cheek and gets up she says she'll be back, and heads for the bathroom. I quickly check my phones emails, responding to one of my employees on advice he asked of me. I ask for the latest information that I could view on my smart phone and by the time I can look up from the phone, there's my wife, standing with hands-on-hips with that popular disapproving look that women tend to give to husbands, even if he didn't do anything wrong.
We don't talk for the last hour of the ride to The Bahamas (flight attendant clarified for me)and when we get to the hotel, I finally ask her what was wrong with what I did and why she gave me that look. She simply sat me on the bed and gave me a massage. As her fingers danced across my back, applying pressure, I realized this was one of the best massages I'd had in ages. "I just want you to relax, okay? Now Liam, I know you're a hard worker, but everybody's got to take a brake sometimes." She continued to relieve the tension in my shoulders. Then she arched her head around and gave me a kiss. Two. Three. As I held her, we continued kissing, and found ourselves lying down. We paused for a moment and she just looked at me and smiled.Her hazel eyes staring into mine, we shared a moment of silent intimacy. And then my phone vibrated on the nightstand.
A look. A stone cold look from her that clearly spoke against my thoughts. But I finally voiced myself against those once beautiful now deadly eyes. "You know I have to get that." I told her. She let one big regrettable sigh out, then got a few things, and left the hotel room, slamming the door. There was always time to make up with her, but this was crucial information. I picked up the phone and viewed the presentation from our Tech Company. It was horrible, an absolutely dreadful and sloppy presentation. I called one of the subordinates responsible for the presentation and preceded to lose my mind. For fifteen minutes I stayed pacing in my room calling the man I hardly knew or worked with everything I could fathom until eventually, I began leaving the hotel. I figured while I was on the phone, I might as well find my wife so I could get off of it and apologize to her. "My wife brought me here on surprise so I could relax for once, Dan. And as soon as I leave, I find that you're completely incapable of a simple task given to you." He pauses. "Well why are you on the phone with me?" Dan said in a voice with both criticism and an attempt at still sounding respectful. I sneered at his comment. "What was that Dan?" His voice raised a bit. "Shouldn't you be spending time with your wife wherever you are vacationing , with pay, mind you, while I sit and work my ass of, would you please mind Liam?" Walking out of the door, I covered my eyes and shook my head. "YOU REFER TO ME AS MR. JAMES WHEN YOU SPEAK TO ME DANIEL, MR. LIAM JAMES." Then after yelling I noticed two things. First of all, I had lost the call. Second of all, I was in a large cornfield, and when I turned to look at the hotel, it had disappeared.
"What the hell is going on?" I said, pushing my way past stalks of corn. I spoke to myself and only myself. I saw nobody around me. "Where the hell am I?" I said in a panicked voice as my feet began picking up and I began running through the stalks, pushing them all with force. I ran for quite some time, maybe a mile or so, before I got weak and decided that there was no way out of here by foot. So I sat down and from my briefcase that I always carried, I pulled out my laptop and checked for connection. Nothing. I pulled open my phone and tried to call somebody. Nothing. I tried my wife, Dan, even 911. Nobody was there. I found myself curled into a ball doing something I hadn't done in about 20 years. I was crying.
Waking up I found my blazer tucked under my head and that I had cried myself to sleep. I looked around to find myself still in the field. I used my cellphone as a flashlight and searched for signs of life. Nothing there once again, so I just laid down and looked at the stars. "God. I'm not in Heaven. I'm not even in Hell, it's like I'm in purgatory." I said staring at the stars. Next thing I know there's a whisper from each side of me.
"We can help"
"Yeah we can help you"
I looked left to right and to my surprise, I saw two boys I had known for a long time, lying down next to me staring at the stars as well. "Billy? Thompson? Is it really you?" They both nodded. These two where imaginary friends that I had conjured up when I was young and didn't have many friends. But now they where here, flesh and bone. They where here for me even as a hardened grumpy, aging , middle aged businessman. "What are you guys doing here?" They smiled. "We're here to make the best out of a bad situation!" Billy said. "We're going to play hide and seek." Thompson shouted out. And for the first time in a long time again, I felt another emotion I hadn't felt in a while: happiness. I only wish my wife was here. So before we went to play I picked up my laptop and wrote my wife one last letter. Then I got up and amongst the stars and the fireflies, played the greatest game of hide and go seek ever played.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mrs. James leaves the hotel after finding out her husband died of a heart attack in the doorway of the entrance. But this is not the only thing she finds. In a field of flowers, she swears she sees Liam James' laptop, and on it the document that reads:
I've loved you and have always loved you Babara. I wish you where here and I hope that you'll be okay.
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