Sunday, June 29, 2008
The Room
Describe an existing room. No action is required, nor story plot. This is an exercise in description. No length requirements.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Command and Conquer
The light rolls in from behind me. Whites glow with an erie moon blue.
From my strategic position I can spy enemies approaching. From this vantage point I can ascertain their threat level and defend my position accordingly. My front is guarded and my rear is unapproachable.
My communication device provides a link to the outside world through several different mediums. From this point I can also command many others. If needed I can also verbally call backups from close by camps.
My stallion of metal, plastic and leather provides long comfortable days from my command post. This is the second of such steeds I have had in my four years here.
I can see the sun light, however, I cannot see the sun directly from my position. Everything can be lit by an artificial sun if necessary.
Snow white surfaces provide space for battle plans to be drawn. Cobalt blues, dirt browns, pure orange adorn the battlefield with sophisticated attack sequences marred by incoherent scribble here and there. Its a direct transfer from my brain to the language of symbols and letters that control flow, content and delivery. They describe in themselves entire ecosystems that are available for defense or attack. They will serve me well in the coming months.
Commanders and soldiers have graced these halls of mine. Countless strategic missions have been conceived and delivered upon from this very command post. Few have come, many have parished, staining the walls with memories both verbal and visible. Families have passed through this door carrying with them hopes and dreams of a new future. Many have come with questions, some leave satisfied.
From my strategic position I can spy enemies approaching. From this vantage point I can ascertain their threat level and defend my position accordingly. My front is guarded and my rear is unapproachable.
My communication device provides a link to the outside world through several different mediums. From this point I can also command many others. If needed I can also verbally call backups from close by camps.
My stallion of metal, plastic and leather provides long comfortable days from my command post. This is the second of such steeds I have had in my four years here.
I can see the sun light, however, I cannot see the sun directly from my position. Everything can be lit by an artificial sun if necessary.
Snow white surfaces provide space for battle plans to be drawn. Cobalt blues, dirt browns, pure orange adorn the battlefield with sophisticated attack sequences marred by incoherent scribble here and there. Its a direct transfer from my brain to the language of symbols and letters that control flow, content and delivery. They describe in themselves entire ecosystems that are available for defense or attack. They will serve me well in the coming months.
Commanders and soldiers have graced these halls of mine. Countless strategic missions have been conceived and delivered upon from this very command post. Few have come, many have parished, staining the walls with memories both verbal and visible. Families have passed through this door carrying with them hopes and dreams of a new future. Many have come with questions, some leave satisfied.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Not In History
You must write a story about a lost tribe from the perspective of the last male of the tribe. The tribe is somewhere in South America and existed 5000 years before man was thought to be in the area. Describe in some detail what has caused the downfall.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Last Man
I told them that it was no good for our people. I told them that the ritual was flawed beyond reason. But the elders all pushed it on the new men. Boys who were influenced by the fanciful stories and tales that the elders spun with their twisted tongues.
Rite of Passage they called it. Rite to die I called it. I denied the D'Marq. When it was my time I passed on it ritualistic game. It was a game, after all. A game that takes lives.
The Olgen was built centuries ago by our father's father's grandfathers. In it they placed a thousand stinging Guiders. Each with enough poison to kill every man in the entire community. Every boy wanting to marry, at that time when the gods of wind and rain claimed, the boy would place his entire arm in the Olgen. He had to leave it there until the Ferth, the oldest and wisest man in the community, declared it was time to remove it.
Without the ritual you could not marry. You could not gather with a woman. You could not hunt with the other men. You were an outcast. That is was what I had become. But I knew better.
I had rejected the ritual after thirteen years. My father was angered with me. He removed me from the dwelling. He told my siblings to turn to the sun when in my presence, as a replacement of his son. No one in the community would sit with me. I was alone.
I spent what should have been my prime in shame. I had never had the enjoyment of worshiping with a woman. I lived in a small hut I built next to the pigs. The stench was enough to almost knock you down. But it was the place where I could retrieve scraps of flesh left from slaughterings. I learned to live on my own.
The years went by and more and more boys were dying during D'Marq. The passing of time saw new Ferth who were seeing signs from the gods that they were not happy with the crop of new men into the community. They made the boys stay longer and longer each time. As time passed more and more boys died. Men were less plentiful than before.
Then Ternq became the Ferth. I believe he sought more power than what the gods were willing to give him. He was forcing boys to stay twice as long and most of the boys going through D'Marq were perishing. He blamed it on the community. He would give long speeches on how we have failed him, and how we have failed the gods. The women who had birthed the recent boys were beaten. They were cast from the community. Then the Great Purging happened.
The last ten men of the community were out hunting. They had been out for many days as the dry season, which had also been seen as a plague, had ravaged our food stores. Many boys had died in the last months from starvation. The Ferth had said to feed them last because they are strong and would survive. I don't think he could have ever been more wrong. Starvation ripped through the community like a dragon.
I was told by the last survivor that they had pushed the great bulls to a canyon, but the beasts had turned the wrong way. They backed them into a dead end and instead of the bulls submitting, they had turned and charged the hunters like a torrent disintegrating a rock face. Only one survived the attack, but not for long. Just long enough to tell the me of the tragedy. The Ferth was distraught.
Soon I became the most popular man in the community. The Firth was very old, too old to plant the seed of life.
But now I am ill. I have been stricken by a disease that is making me cough up blood. This disease usually only takes about 30 moons before it becomes fatal. The women of the community have lost faith in the Ferth, and I am now revered as a god. I am the one who denied, but now I am now being denied life and child and for it the community will end.
I do not think I will last long. Soon I too will die, the last man. I will not know my son, my daughter will not exist. Lest you heed these warnings the same fate will befall you as well. Be not a blind subject to a practice for the benefit of the people without thought of what is right and wrong. Do not blindly sacrifice your sons, and therefore your legacy or even your existance, on the continence of one man, especially when that man is enveloped in power and praise and not in justice. Put God before man, not man before God.
Rite of Passage they called it. Rite to die I called it. I denied the D'Marq. When it was my time I passed on it ritualistic game. It was a game, after all. A game that takes lives.
The Olgen was built centuries ago by our father's father's grandfathers. In it they placed a thousand stinging Guiders. Each with enough poison to kill every man in the entire community. Every boy wanting to marry, at that time when the gods of wind and rain claimed, the boy would place his entire arm in the Olgen. He had to leave it there until the Ferth, the oldest and wisest man in the community, declared it was time to remove it.
Without the ritual you could not marry. You could not gather with a woman. You could not hunt with the other men. You were an outcast. That is was what I had become. But I knew better.
I had rejected the ritual after thirteen years. My father was angered with me. He removed me from the dwelling. He told my siblings to turn to the sun when in my presence, as a replacement of his son. No one in the community would sit with me. I was alone.
I spent what should have been my prime in shame. I had never had the enjoyment of worshiping with a woman. I lived in a small hut I built next to the pigs. The stench was enough to almost knock you down. But it was the place where I could retrieve scraps of flesh left from slaughterings. I learned to live on my own.
The years went by and more and more boys were dying during D'Marq. The passing of time saw new Ferth who were seeing signs from the gods that they were not happy with the crop of new men into the community. They made the boys stay longer and longer each time. As time passed more and more boys died. Men were less plentiful than before.
Then Ternq became the Ferth. I believe he sought more power than what the gods were willing to give him. He was forcing boys to stay twice as long and most of the boys going through D'Marq were perishing. He blamed it on the community. He would give long speeches on how we have failed him, and how we have failed the gods. The women who had birthed the recent boys were beaten. They were cast from the community. Then the Great Purging happened.
The last ten men of the community were out hunting. They had been out for many days as the dry season, which had also been seen as a plague, had ravaged our food stores. Many boys had died in the last months from starvation. The Ferth had said to feed them last because they are strong and would survive. I don't think he could have ever been more wrong. Starvation ripped through the community like a dragon.
I was told by the last survivor that they had pushed the great bulls to a canyon, but the beasts had turned the wrong way. They backed them into a dead end and instead of the bulls submitting, they had turned and charged the hunters like a torrent disintegrating a rock face. Only one survived the attack, but not for long. Just long enough to tell the me of the tragedy. The Ferth was distraught.
Soon I became the most popular man in the community. The Firth was very old, too old to plant the seed of life.
But now I am ill. I have been stricken by a disease that is making me cough up blood. This disease usually only takes about 30 moons before it becomes fatal. The women of the community have lost faith in the Ferth, and I am now revered as a god. I am the one who denied, but now I am now being denied life and child and for it the community will end.
I do not think I will last long. Soon I too will die, the last man. I will not know my son, my daughter will not exist. Lest you heed these warnings the same fate will befall you as well. Be not a blind subject to a practice for the benefit of the people without thought of what is right and wrong. Do not blindly sacrifice your sons, and therefore your legacy or even your existance, on the continence of one man, especially when that man is enveloped in power and praise and not in justice. Put God before man, not man before God.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Glass Slipper
Just as the prince was turning to go, Cinderella broke free from her imprisonment. In a panic, her step-mother feigned illness and fell against the servant who held the glass slipper. The slipper fell to the ground and shattered. The prince felt a twinge of recognition in Cinderella, but without the slipper, he would never be certain. Noting the disappointment in his face, Cinderella drew near so that he could plainly see her. “It is I,” she said, “Do you not recognize me?” The prince only looked at her searchingly, but did not answer. “Perhaps this will clear your doubts,” she said, as she took the other slipper from her apron pocket. His demeanor brightened as he took the shoe from her hand and knelt to slip it onto her dainty foot. As he did this, one of the step sisters pushed him. He lunged forward and reached out to steady himself. His hands hit the ground with a crushing blow and the remaining slipper broke into shards, slicing and tearing his flesh. His servants rushed to his aid and swept him away to the palace for medical care. Cinderella never beheld his face again.
By Courtney
By Courtney
The Predator
The days seem endless now. I watch my people dying and I realize that I am helpless to stop it. Those who don't die from the Invisible Predator fall victim to starvation. All of our hunters have finally succumbed, and there is no one left to provide food for us. No one to protect us.
I was always left behind, considered to be the weakest. Funny that I would be the last man standing. The only reason I can think of is that I was not taken out and exposed to the Predator's wrath. We still don't know where he comes from, or how his poison enters the body, but every few days another member of the tribe begins to deteriorate. It is usually the ones taking care of the dying that become sick, but we have also lost the children. The poor children.
I don't know how, but I am going to beat this Predator. I have never been much use with the weapons that the tribe create, but they are of no use against an enemy that you can't see anyway. What I need is to find out how he is killing us. Then maybe I can fight back. I have studied the bodies of our dead for years. Being the weakest, my only use was disposing of the bodies of the strong. I spent much of that time examining mortal wounds that the hunters suffered. I have spent countless days dissecting the bodies of the old who died for no apparent reason. After all of that study, I have gained a pretty deep knowledge of the body.
But now the bodies are different. The insides are no longer colorful and beautiful. No, now everything is dark and shriveled. The Predator seems to be killing us by rotting our bodies. I have never seen anything like this. One of the tribe dogs began to show the signs of the Predator two days ago. I was going to put him down to examine him, but when I took him out in the wilderness where I work, I noticed the dog eating a bush that I had never noticed before. I have never seen the tribe dogs eat plants before. For some reason I decided to watch him for a while to figure out why he was acting this way. Amazingly he didn't die. This death that takes us in a matter of days seemed to be stopped in that dog. I decided that if the animals could beat the Predator, then so could we.
I went out and gathered the plant's leaves and took them to the caretakers. They didn't want to listen to me. But I would show them. I sat with the dying. That is where the Predator always seems to strike. I sat there for days. Finally I began to feel it. The Predator had come. I never saw him, I didn't even feel him until the coughing started. Now was the time. As the last man in my tribe, I would stop the Predator and save my people. I ate the leaves. After a short time, I was convinced that I was right. All of the pain stopped. I felt great. The others saw what was happening too. They all ate the leaves that I had gathered. We were celebrating an end to the Predator's reign.
Suddenly I began to feel very odd. My vision became blurred, and I began to see two of everything. I turned to go to my wigwam when I saw it. The dog lie dead at the edge of the forest. Scavengers that had began to tear down its body lay dead all around it. As I turned back to my people, my legs folded under me. I lost the use of my limbs. I could see that the others were the same. As my vision grew dim, the horrible truth flooded my mind. I was never meant to save my people. In beating the Predator, I poisoned my own tribe. We were doomed to the same fate either way. I had become the Predator. My pride killed my people.
I was always left behind, considered to be the weakest. Funny that I would be the last man standing. The only reason I can think of is that I was not taken out and exposed to the Predator's wrath. We still don't know where he comes from, or how his poison enters the body, but every few days another member of the tribe begins to deteriorate. It is usually the ones taking care of the dying that become sick, but we have also lost the children. The poor children.
I don't know how, but I am going to beat this Predator. I have never been much use with the weapons that the tribe create, but they are of no use against an enemy that you can't see anyway. What I need is to find out how he is killing us. Then maybe I can fight back. I have studied the bodies of our dead for years. Being the weakest, my only use was disposing of the bodies of the strong. I spent much of that time examining mortal wounds that the hunters suffered. I have spent countless days dissecting the bodies of the old who died for no apparent reason. After all of that study, I have gained a pretty deep knowledge of the body.
But now the bodies are different. The insides are no longer colorful and beautiful. No, now everything is dark and shriveled. The Predator seems to be killing us by rotting our bodies. I have never seen anything like this. One of the tribe dogs began to show the signs of the Predator two days ago. I was going to put him down to examine him, but when I took him out in the wilderness where I work, I noticed the dog eating a bush that I had never noticed before. I have never seen the tribe dogs eat plants before. For some reason I decided to watch him for a while to figure out why he was acting this way. Amazingly he didn't die. This death that takes us in a matter of days seemed to be stopped in that dog. I decided that if the animals could beat the Predator, then so could we.
I went out and gathered the plant's leaves and took them to the caretakers. They didn't want to listen to me. But I would show them. I sat with the dying. That is where the Predator always seems to strike. I sat there for days. Finally I began to feel it. The Predator had come. I never saw him, I didn't even feel him until the coughing started. Now was the time. As the last man in my tribe, I would stop the Predator and save my people. I ate the leaves. After a short time, I was convinced that I was right. All of the pain stopped. I felt great. The others saw what was happening too. They all ate the leaves that I had gathered. We were celebrating an end to the Predator's reign.
Suddenly I began to feel very odd. My vision became blurred, and I began to see two of everything. I turned to go to my wigwam when I saw it. The dog lie dead at the edge of the forest. Scavengers that had began to tear down its body lay dead all around it. As I turned back to my people, my legs folded under me. I lost the use of my limbs. I could see that the others were the same. As my vision grew dim, the horrible truth flooded my mind. I was never meant to save my people. In beating the Predator, I poisoned my own tribe. We were doomed to the same fate either way. I had become the Predator. My pride killed my people.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Rapunzel
From the original Grimm's tale found here:
she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding
his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and
venomous looks. "Aha," she cried mockingly,"you would fetch your dearest, but
the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it,
and will scratchout your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You
will never seeher again." The king's son was beside himself with pain, and
in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life,but
the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes.Alternate Ending:
But then a nymph fluttered by the his ear and whispered this message: "The forest weeps for you, my Lord. Please follow my song and I shall lead you to refuge and recovery. But your heart must be pure!"
The king's son followed the enchanting song of the nymph though it was not audible to most. The loss of his sight had caused his other senses to become more potent. The nymph led on for days through the woods trying desperately to keep the young boy from harm.
Three days later, parched and starving, the young boy arrived at the desired destination of the nymph. The nymph no longer sang, but again encroached the boy's ear.
"Now that you have paid the price, you have lost your sight. You must rely on your other senses to find your true path, or let the path find you, " the nymph spoke.
"But what am I to do next? These riddles vex me! I beg of you, please lead me further!"
But the nymph was gone, vanished from the boy. The boy's heart sank. He had lost everything and now following this nymph had led him to an unknown place. The boy pittied himself and considered himself as good as deceased.
That evening the boy awoke , drowsey from a slumber, to a familure scent. The smell curled around him, wrapping him in a feeling of home. As the scent permiated his nostriles he came to his senses.
Rapunzel was walking down the path, gathering fruits and berries for her dinner.
The boy opened his mouth, dry and cracked, and tried to call to her. In his head it rolled out, "Rapunzel! Rapunzel!" But in reality nothing more than a whisper left his lips.
Rapunzel heard something in the brush. She paused slowly peering around for she had been chased out of the wood by a wolf a few nights before. Completely stopped and silent she heard it again! She carefully stepped forward and saw a wrech of a man lying in the brush. The sight gave her a start as the horrible man reached to her with a filthy hand. When she moved back with a jolt she noticed that the man's eyes did not exactly follow her. He must be blind, she thought. Carefully she approached him.
"Are you hurt?" She asked.
His lips moved, but he could not speak.
"Can I help you?" again she queried. Still nothing.
She picked him up by the arm and helped him upright. His eyes had been impailed and dried blood had pooled about his eye sockets.
She took him back to her encampment and sat him by the fire. She checked on her two sons and found them to be awake. Rapunzel then made a brisk tea of berries and leaves she had gathered.
She gave him a cup of the warm brew and he inbibed. He apparently had not had liquid in quite some time. Then he spoke! Almost in a whisper at first, but words non the less!
"Rapunzel," he managed. "Rapunzel, it is me." Sending chills down the spine of the girl.
"What is this?" she asked. "How do you know my name?"
"It is I, the boy who called to you, to let down your beautiful hair. I have been tricked by the enchantress and she has plucked out my eyes that if I ever found you I could not gaze upon you."
Rapunzel had recalled a nymph that led her and her two sons to the encampment and that he taught her how to use the forest for both food and for healing. She gathered several leaves and made a paste. She applied this paste to the young boy's damanaged eyes for several days. Once removed the boy could see again, and the family did indeed live happily ever after.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
The Lamp
I don't remember where are when mom got it, but it seems to have always been around. Are at least one of some kind.
I've seen her use it in the kitchen on an evening when for whatever reason the power had gone out in the house.
I remember it setting on top of the shelves in the bathroom for a long time. Why? I don't know.
I even remember it moving from room to room as need would have it.
The Lamp!
It is unable to do anything of it's on accord...yet it carries with it beauty and comfort in times of need.
I think back to times when mom would carefully carry it into a room and set it down on the dresser or the chest of drawers. Then with care take the chimney off and place a match to the wick. The gentle light would flood the room. At least as much as a single oil burning lamp could fill a room with light.
The lamp now sits on the edge of my desk where it has been for more than a year. I don't really use it for the light that it provides now but rather for the fragrance that it puts out. I burn a vanilla based oil and it really does fill the room with that smell. It is also pretty to look at.
The lamp stands about sixteen inches tall and is made of a very fragile glass. It is a cobalt blue and the metal parts are of a finished brass.
Yes, it is an inanimate object and it can do nothing of its own accord but it has meaning for me.
I've seen her use it in the kitchen on an evening when for whatever reason the power had gone out in the house.
I remember it setting on top of the shelves in the bathroom for a long time. Why? I don't know.
I even remember it moving from room to room as need would have it.
The Lamp!
It is unable to do anything of it's on accord...yet it carries with it beauty and comfort in times of need.
I think back to times when mom would carefully carry it into a room and set it down on the dresser or the chest of drawers. Then with care take the chimney off and place a match to the wick. The gentle light would flood the room. At least as much as a single oil burning lamp could fill a room with light.
The lamp now sits on the edge of my desk where it has been for more than a year. I don't really use it for the light that it provides now but rather for the fragrance that it puts out. I burn a vanilla based oil and it really does fill the room with that smell. It is also pretty to look at.
The lamp stands about sixteen inches tall and is made of a very fragile glass. It is a cobalt blue and the metal parts are of a finished brass.
Yes, it is an inanimate object and it can do nothing of its own accord but it has meaning for me.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The Wolf Wins
After having the door slammed in his face, burning his behind and being generally humiliated by a bunch of little appetizers, The Wolf decided not only to get his dinner, but revenge as well. Noting the cheap drapes and natural insulation of brick, The Wolf developed his plan.
First, The Wolf gathered twigs and straw enough to surround the house (most of which was left over from the first two houses). After purchasing a few other items, the plan was coming together.
Late that night The Wolf quietly pushed his cart up to the side of the house. Working slowly and silently he surrounded the house with the tinder and primed it all with diesel. Like the perfect assassin The Wolf removed his cart and hid in the nearby forest having never been noticed. All that was left to do was fill the bottle with fuel and soak the rag. Once lit, the Molotov Cocktail was hurled into the picture window on the front of the house. As the window dressing burned, hot ashes flew out past the broken glass and ignited the straw outside the house.
An hour later, The Wolf lay against a tree contented and drowsy; pork chop bones on the ground and bacon grease on the front of his shirt.
First, The Wolf gathered twigs and straw enough to surround the house (most of which was left over from the first two houses). After purchasing a few other items, the plan was coming together.
Late that night The Wolf quietly pushed his cart up to the side of the house. Working slowly and silently he surrounded the house with the tinder and primed it all with diesel. Like the perfect assassin The Wolf removed his cart and hid in the nearby forest having never been noticed. All that was left to do was fill the bottle with fuel and soak the rag. Once lit, the Molotov Cocktail was hurled into the picture window on the front of the house. As the window dressing burned, hot ashes flew out past the broken glass and ignited the straw outside the house.
An hour later, The Wolf lay against a tree contented and drowsy; pork chop bones on the ground and bacon grease on the front of his shirt.
March 2008
Hey guys, I am just posting what Elizabeth tells me. This is her premise.
Take your favorite fairytale and change the ending. Whatever you want e.g. Dumbo nose dives, Humpty Dumpty was arrested for disorderly conduct, etc. I know this is late, so length is not an issue. We all likely know the story, so just pick-up where you are changing it to save time.
Take your favorite fairytale and change the ending. Whatever you want e.g. Dumbo nose dives, Humpty Dumpty was arrested for disorderly conduct, etc. I know this is late, so length is not an issue. We all likely know the story, so just pick-up where you are changing it to save time.
Friday, February 29, 2008
February 2008
The subject matter of your next story must be inanimate. Choose a single item that cannot function by itself, and create. It can be written in any form (first person, third person, etc.) as long as the item itself requires outside influence to operate, and is the main focus of the story.
I am not putting a length requirement, but lets not cheat ourselves.
I am not putting a length requirement, but lets not cheat ourselves.
Vice
Sorry, I have thought about and forgotten this story a hundred times since I posted the premise. I will try harder next time!
I feel the cool air all around me as I am being plucked from the comfort of my friends. The gentle pressure of his fingers makes me feel safe as if I were in the hands of someone who loved me. Slowly he moves me to his mouth as if to kiss me. I find myself resting between his lips curious about this feeling. Then suddenly I feel the pain, the hot searing pain and then it is gone. The only remnant a slow burning feeling. Then I can feel as he draws the air into me. The warmth passes through me from end to end. I begin to feel all of my cares fading away. A sense of euphoria lifts me to another place. It seems to last forever.
Suddenly all of that wonderful pleasure stops. I am slammed onto a hard surface. The twisting and crushing is unbearable. I don't know how long I can withstand this. The warmth is fading. I need that warmth. I will surely die without it! But as hard as I fight, the warmth still fades. I don't understand. As much as he loved me, is he done with me already? The fire is gone now. This is what it feels like to die.
I feel the cool air all around me as I am being plucked from the comfort of my friends. The gentle pressure of his fingers makes me feel safe as if I were in the hands of someone who loved me. Slowly he moves me to his mouth as if to kiss me. I find myself resting between his lips curious about this feeling. Then suddenly I feel the pain, the hot searing pain and then it is gone. The only remnant a slow burning feeling. Then I can feel as he draws the air into me. The warmth passes through me from end to end. I begin to feel all of my cares fading away. A sense of euphoria lifts me to another place. It seems to last forever.
Suddenly all of that wonderful pleasure stops. I am slammed onto a hard surface. The twisting and crushing is unbearable. I don't know how long I can withstand this. The warmth is fading. I need that warmth. I will surely die without it! But as hard as I fight, the warmth still fades. I don't understand. As much as he loved me, is he done with me already? The fire is gone now. This is what it feels like to die.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
A Day in the Life
At 6a.m., the light in the room flickers on without warning. She walks in and takes off her nightgown and panties and steps into the shower. The room steams up with the heat of the water. After several long minutes, she steps out again and begins to dry herself. In only her towel, she walks to the mirror and runs her fingers through her wet hair. Then she reaches for me. She slathers me with a sweet tasting cream and draws me near. Her lips part. She begins the familiar motions, up, down, side to side. Then she is done. She rinses me with warm water and walks away.
I spend the day alone in the dimness of this room until well after night falls. She enters the room again and reaches for me...
I spend the day alone in the dimness of this room until well after night falls. She enters the room again and reaches for me...
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Lucy
"Not again. Not him anway, " Lucy said.
"What's your problem?" asked Jean.
"Cold hands, fumbling, groping, so uneducated."
"You know, he's just begginingg. He'll get better with age, we all do."
"Yes, which is exactly why you can't possibly pair the two of us together. He is green, I am expirenced. He is dumb, I am smart. He is is clumbsy, I am perfect. I don't want that fumbling fool groping me."
Bobby picked up Lucy and ran the pick harshly across her strings. The sound Lucy emmitted was not to her liking. She gave a little extra vibration on E.
Bobby tried for C. His fingers where somewhere in the vacinity of F.
"Why do I have to use this dumb old guitar. I think its strings are too warn, " Bobby moaned.
Bobby's father entered the room.
"What are you doing son?" asked Charles.
"Oh, just messing around. I just can't seem to get C. It just sounds like dirt. Do you think we should re-string it?"
"Son, those strings are fine," Charles giggled under his breath. "It's not the strings. It just takes time. O'l Lucy here, she old. She belonged to Pop. She's...well, she's probably close to sixty years old now. He used to play her on the front porch. This is the guitar I learned to play."
Charles took Lucy in his hands and put together 10 of some of the finest chords immaginable. Lucy let out a sigh of relief and joy. He walked through several more progressions and then suddenly grabbed the neck and looked over at Bobby.
Bobby was grinning. "I wish I could do that. You make it look so easy, and you're right. The sound was awesome."
"It just takes time, son."
"I know, but there are these great new songs out, but when I look at the tabs they are just crazy."
"Start with something easier, son. Take it slow and keep at it. O'l Lucy here, well, if you treat her right she'll sound perfect. There's a lot of love in this old guitar. Pop used to sit on the front porch for hours singing and strumming. In fact, if you flip her over here, yeah, there it is, look deep in there. See it?"
"Bobby 'Pop' Martin - 1947. Is that my Pop?"
"Yep. Pop made this guitar himself. It took him most of one year. But you see son, you can't hardly buy guitars like this one. The Mother of Pearl inlaid here was from shells he collected in World War II, in the Pacific. The face is Rosewood, which is extremely rare now. The strings, well they are steel, but I bet they are at least thirty years old. Bobby, they just don't make them like this anymore."
Lucy seemed to glow a little brighter.
"Wow, I wonder how much its worth?"
"Son, promise me one thing: never get rid of Lucy here. She's a very important part of this family, our haritage. She must always stay with us. Lucy here holds some very important secrets."
"Secrets? What are you talking about? Family secrets?"
"Some day, Bobby. Some day."
Lucy could feel the weight of what she was hearing, deep in her belly.
"What's your problem?" asked Jean.
"Cold hands, fumbling, groping, so uneducated."
"You know, he's just begginingg. He'll get better with age, we all do."
"Yes, which is exactly why you can't possibly pair the two of us together. He is green, I am expirenced. He is dumb, I am smart. He is is clumbsy, I am perfect. I don't want that fumbling fool groping me."
Bobby picked up Lucy and ran the pick harshly across her strings. The sound Lucy emmitted was not to her liking. She gave a little extra vibration on E.
Bobby tried for C. His fingers where somewhere in the vacinity of F.
"Why do I have to use this dumb old guitar. I think its strings are too warn, " Bobby moaned.
Bobby's father entered the room.
"What are you doing son?" asked Charles.
"Oh, just messing around. I just can't seem to get C. It just sounds like dirt. Do you think we should re-string it?"
"Son, those strings are fine," Charles giggled under his breath. "It's not the strings. It just takes time. O'l Lucy here, she old. She belonged to Pop. She's...well, she's probably close to sixty years old now. He used to play her on the front porch. This is the guitar I learned to play."
Charles took Lucy in his hands and put together 10 of some of the finest chords immaginable. Lucy let out a sigh of relief and joy. He walked through several more progressions and then suddenly grabbed the neck and looked over at Bobby.
Bobby was grinning. "I wish I could do that. You make it look so easy, and you're right. The sound was awesome."
"It just takes time, son."
"I know, but there are these great new songs out, but when I look at the tabs they are just crazy."
"Start with something easier, son. Take it slow and keep at it. O'l Lucy here, well, if you treat her right she'll sound perfect. There's a lot of love in this old guitar. Pop used to sit on the front porch for hours singing and strumming. In fact, if you flip her over here, yeah, there it is, look deep in there. See it?"
"Bobby 'Pop' Martin - 1947. Is that my Pop?"
"Yep. Pop made this guitar himself. It took him most of one year. But you see son, you can't hardly buy guitars like this one. The Mother of Pearl inlaid here was from shells he collected in World War II, in the Pacific. The face is Rosewood, which is extremely rare now. The strings, well they are steel, but I bet they are at least thirty years old. Bobby, they just don't make them like this anymore."
Lucy seemed to glow a little brighter.
"Wow, I wonder how much its worth?"
"Son, promise me one thing: never get rid of Lucy here. She's a very important part of this family, our haritage. She must always stay with us. Lucy here holds some very important secrets."
"Secrets? What are you talking about? Family secrets?"
"Some day, Bobby. Some day."
Lucy could feel the weight of what she was hearing, deep in her belly.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Home
Well i just put out a drawn out blog and it did not save for whatever reason so since I can't remember it this will be short and to the point. All I want this year is a home, to the point a house. I've never had one, ever and it's time!! My family and I deserve it.
New Year's Resolution
So I guess its ironic that I'm the one who posted this premise, but I don't really do resolutions. It seems to me that when people make resolutions, often times, they are setting themselves up for failure. I think that's because they try to make some kind of ultimate change all at once. It gets to be overwhelming and they just give up. So, I'd rather make progressive goals. Is that just semantics?
Anyway, my first goal is to live a healthier lifestyle than I did in most of 2007. I am not going to "diet" because that doesn't work. What people need is a sustainable lifestyle change. I heard Chef Paul on the radio the other day and he said that he had been over 500 pounds most ofhis life. But now he is down to 220 pounds and got there exclusively by eating less foood. He eats the same stuff he always has, but just eats less of it. This is a message I have been preaching, if not living for a long time. About 8 or 9 years ago, Brian and I started doing that and both lost weight fast. Then we moved to Austin and forgot about the whole thing. But for the last few months, I have started again - and its such an easy thing to do - and the weiht is coming off again. We've also been exercising. We seem to have a pattern, though, of doing well for the first part of the week, then by Thursday or Friday, we kind of fall short. So, the goal part is to become more aware of the amount of food that I eat and follow through with exercising through the whole week. I'd also like to take more time for myself. I have been hearing a lot and I agree that I can take better care of my family and other responsibilities by recharging myself.
Another goal that I would like to attain is to become more organized. I have always been hyper-organized in work and school, but it seems like I just can't get it together in my personal life. I have this awesome filing system, but it doesn't work if I don't put my papers in it. I have a great plan for keeping the house clean, but until I put it into action, my house will stay dirty. I know how to keep up the laundry, but if I don't do it, it piles up in the hampers (and on top and around them) and we run out of clean undies! So, I don't know how to accomplish all of this. I have the plans, I just don't know how to make myself implement them. I feel like I'm busy all the time, but I have no visible accomplishments. So...any suggestions are welcome!
One more thing I'd like to do this year is to make better use of our money. We really ought to know where we stand at any given moment. We should be able to pay our bills on time because we know where they are, what we owe, and whether or not we can afford it!
I guess that's it. Sorry - it was kind of a boring premise. I'll do better on my next turn!!!
Anyway, my first goal is to live a healthier lifestyle than I did in most of 2007. I am not going to "diet" because that doesn't work. What people need is a sustainable lifestyle change. I heard Chef Paul on the radio the other day and he said that he had been over 500 pounds most ofhis life. But now he is down to 220 pounds and got there exclusively by eating less foood. He eats the same stuff he always has, but just eats less of it. This is a message I have been preaching, if not living for a long time. About 8 or 9 years ago, Brian and I started doing that and both lost weight fast. Then we moved to Austin and forgot about the whole thing. But for the last few months, I have started again - and its such an easy thing to do - and the weiht is coming off again. We've also been exercising. We seem to have a pattern, though, of doing well for the first part of the week, then by Thursday or Friday, we kind of fall short. So, the goal part is to become more aware of the amount of food that I eat and follow through with exercising through the whole week. I'd also like to take more time for myself. I have been hearing a lot and I agree that I can take better care of my family and other responsibilities by recharging myself.
Another goal that I would like to attain is to become more organized. I have always been hyper-organized in work and school, but it seems like I just can't get it together in my personal life. I have this awesome filing system, but it doesn't work if I don't put my papers in it. I have a great plan for keeping the house clean, but until I put it into action, my house will stay dirty. I know how to keep up the laundry, but if I don't do it, it piles up in the hampers (and on top and around them) and we run out of clean undies! So, I don't know how to accomplish all of this. I have the plans, I just don't know how to make myself implement them. I feel like I'm busy all the time, but I have no visible accomplishments. So...any suggestions are welcome!
One more thing I'd like to do this year is to make better use of our money. We really ought to know where we stand at any given moment. We should be able to pay our bills on time because we know where they are, what we owe, and whether or not we can afford it!
I guess that's it. Sorry - it was kind of a boring premise. I'll do better on my next turn!!!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Resolution / Goal for 2008
Many things come to mind that I'd love to accomplish this year...however I've chosen to talk to you about the completion of the remodeling of our house. I'd really love to complete the entire project but money and time seem never to be in agreement on getting this done in a timely manner.
So, I'll break it down into completeing two parts of the project this year...perhaps later on I can relate how we were able to accomplish even more.
1. I wanted to (especially) finish the back porch...to the point that it would not fall down. A VERY REAL POSSIABILITY.
The repairing of the porch, to where it is safe and will not fall off of the house has been accomplished. With the help of Jared and Brian on the weekend of Jan. 20, 2008 we jacked the porch back up into place and secured it.
This weekend Jan. 27, 2008 should see the finished product of the porch being repaired. Jared and I hope to complete the project at this time.
2. I want to repair the roof of the house. This will be a complete replacement of the roof.
The old roof must be taken completely off...there are presently two layers of shingles on the roof.
Then we will replace the roof with a new metal roof. I do not ever want to work on the roof of the house again during my life time. Exception being if a tornado should hit it.
The roof project is going to run me about $1500 to $2000 dollar's not counting what it will cost me to feed Jared and Brian, that could be harsh.
Kill a deer please...!
So, I'll break it down into completeing two parts of the project this year...perhaps later on I can relate how we were able to accomplish even more.
1. I wanted to (especially) finish the back porch...to the point that it would not fall down. A VERY REAL POSSIABILITY.
The repairing of the porch, to where it is safe and will not fall off of the house has been accomplished. With the help of Jared and Brian on the weekend of Jan. 20, 2008 we jacked the porch back up into place and secured it.
This weekend Jan. 27, 2008 should see the finished product of the porch being repaired. Jared and I hope to complete the project at this time.
2. I want to repair the roof of the house. This will be a complete replacement of the roof.
The old roof must be taken completely off...there are presently two layers of shingles on the roof.
Then we will replace the roof with a new metal roof. I do not ever want to work on the roof of the house again during my life time. Exception being if a tornado should hit it.
The roof project is going to run me about $1500 to $2000 dollar's not counting what it will cost me to feed Jared and Brian, that could be harsh.
Kill a deer please...!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Play Guitar
This is the year of the guitar. I have always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument. Piano would have been my choice, I love the sound of jazz piano. However, pianos are just darned expensive, and then there's the lessons on top of that.
I have been talking about getting a guitar for some time now. My daughter, Brooklyn, has wanted one too. We got her one for Christmas.
I wanted to make sure that she really followed up with it too. Short attention spans can diminish hopes and dreams at times.
I had some extra Christmas money left over. Jared and I spent several hours at pawn shops and guitar stores. I finally found one. It's a Lyon brand by Washburn.
By the end of the year I would like to be able to play at least 3 songs well, and play with my daughter.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Fitness Goal
This is a real goal for this year. Due to the new job that I have, I now have a need to be in better shape and stronger than I have been in the past. The physical part of my job is going to make me stronger whether I want it to or not, but it is still a challenge. So the goal that I have is to stay active during my off time, and by the end of the year, I want the heavy lifting that I have to do at work to seem easy for me. I want to find myself in the best shape of my life by the end of this year if not sooner.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
January 2008
State one New Year's Resolution or goal, etc. (preferably real, but make it up if you don't have one). Make a step by step plan with a timeline on how you can accomplish this by the end of the year. Add any information you wish on why you chose this goal or what/who inspired you. Let us know if this is a real resolution/goal so that we can check back in on the results toward the end of the year.
Due January 31, 2008
Due January 31, 2008
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