Dave Skinner's Blog, page 5
March 27, 2016
Help me understand
The Toronto Star reported today that the Liberal government will tackle bloated consulting costs. This should make most people happy, but the article contained this bit of information.
“Of the total ($10.46 billion), 8.03 billion was spent on private companies to provide public services. The remainder (2.43 billion) was spent on government departments contracting services from other departments, such as legal services from the Department of Justice.”
First, let’s look at that number. 2.43 billion dollars is a lot of money for most of us in the other 99%. Using 2015 statistics, it represents $67.97 dollars from each Canadian, but it also represents $9,454.00 dollars for each employee of the Federal Public Service and that is what I don’t understand. 2.43 billon dollars was spent by government department on services by other government department. These are people who are already being paid by us to do the jobs which they are now charging other departments to do. I admit that I don’t understand it. Is this work that is being done off hours because there aren’t enough employees to get the work done during government hours, or is this a way to hide real department labour costs, or perhaps it is the cost of hiring temporary employees needed to count the 2,430,000,000 dollars that is being passed around, or is it just another rip-off.
“Of the total ($10.46 billion), 8.03 billion was spent on private companies to provide public services. The remainder (2.43 billion) was spent on government departments contracting services from other departments, such as legal services from the Department of Justice.”
First, let’s look at that number. 2.43 billion dollars is a lot of money for most of us in the other 99%. Using 2015 statistics, it represents $67.97 dollars from each Canadian, but it also represents $9,454.00 dollars for each employee of the Federal Public Service and that is what I don’t understand. 2.43 billon dollars was spent by government department on services by other government department. These are people who are already being paid by us to do the jobs which they are now charging other departments to do. I admit that I don’t understand it. Is this work that is being done off hours because there aren’t enough employees to get the work done during government hours, or is this a way to hide real department labour costs, or perhaps it is the cost of hiring temporary employees needed to count the 2,430,000,000 dollars that is being passed around, or is it just another rip-off.
January 16, 2016
This is becoming my pet peeve
I was accosted again today by an image of a bare chested, muscular man obviously being used to attract female attention.
I grew up in a time when advertisers used the scantily clad female form to sell products. The message in the medium was that women were useless for anything other than sex. Then along came the Feminist Movement. Using sex to sell did not die out, but it did become less prevalent or perhaps only less obvious.
“In 1973 the book Subliminal Seduction claimed that subliminal techniques were in wide use in advertising. The book contributed to a general climate of fear with regard to Orwellian dangers (of subliminal messaging). Public concern was enough to lead the Federal Communications Commission to hold hearings and to declare subliminal advertising "contrary to the public interest" because it involved "intentional deception" of the public.” (Subliminal Advertising, Psychologist World website, from a posting in Influence and Personality Psychology)
The web site, mental_flos, contains an article that identifies a number of recent subliminal messages in advertising and beyond. http://mentalfloss.com/article/67223/7-sneaky-subliminal-messages-hidden-ads (the following image is from that article).
You have to ask who this advertisement is directed towards. The product is clearly a woman’s shampoo, so how does a naked woman entice another woman to purchase the product? On closer inspection you may notice that the forearm is more muscular than the rest of the body. Once this is pointed out, the image takes on a completely different tone. The sexual nature becomes obvious.
In October of 1970, The Female Eunuch, by Germaine Greer was published. The main thesis of the book dealt with the sexual repression of women through the “traditional” suburban, consumerist, nuclear family which devitalized them and rendered them eunuchs.(The Female Eunuch. (2016, January 11). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 17:39, January 11, 2016, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=The_Female_Eunuch&oldid=699215740)
I will readily admit that women around the world have not achieved equality with men, but I also believe that many North American women no longer suffer from sexual repression. This type of image and many more like it, found in abundance on covers of novels about Scotsmen, cowboys, and vampires, to mention a few, suggest a problem to me. Why are these women searching for sexual excitement with fictional partners, between the covers of novels, instead of with real life partners beneath their own covers? And with which gender does the problem lie?
I grew up in a time when advertisers used the scantily clad female form to sell products. The message in the medium was that women were useless for anything other than sex. Then along came the Feminist Movement. Using sex to sell did not die out, but it did become less prevalent or perhaps only less obvious.
“In 1973 the book Subliminal Seduction claimed that subliminal techniques were in wide use in advertising. The book contributed to a general climate of fear with regard to Orwellian dangers (of subliminal messaging). Public concern was enough to lead the Federal Communications Commission to hold hearings and to declare subliminal advertising "contrary to the public interest" because it involved "intentional deception" of the public.” (Subliminal Advertising, Psychologist World website, from a posting in Influence and Personality Psychology)
The web site, mental_flos, contains an article that identifies a number of recent subliminal messages in advertising and beyond. http://mentalfloss.com/article/67223/7-sneaky-subliminal-messages-hidden-ads (the following image is from that article).
You have to ask who this advertisement is directed towards. The product is clearly a woman’s shampoo, so how does a naked woman entice another woman to purchase the product? On closer inspection you may notice that the forearm is more muscular than the rest of the body. Once this is pointed out, the image takes on a completely different tone. The sexual nature becomes obvious.
In October of 1970, The Female Eunuch, by Germaine Greer was published. The main thesis of the book dealt with the sexual repression of women through the “traditional” suburban, consumerist, nuclear family which devitalized them and rendered them eunuchs.(The Female Eunuch. (2016, January 11). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 17:39, January 11, 2016, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=The_Female_Eunuch&oldid=699215740)
I will readily admit that women around the world have not achieved equality with men, but I also believe that many North American women no longer suffer from sexual repression. This type of image and many more like it, found in abundance on covers of novels about Scotsmen, cowboys, and vampires, to mention a few, suggest a problem to me. Why are these women searching for sexual excitement with fictional partners, between the covers of novels, instead of with real life partners beneath their own covers? And with which gender does the problem lie?
December 17, 2015
Of man, mouse, and monster
This story won an honourable mention from the September 2015 Writers of the Future Contest,
Of mouse, man, and monsterI overcame my urge to leave. The building was derelict, the entrance open and unguarded, no protective spells, and no lights showed. Sounds perfect for a robbery, but the story I had heard made me suspicious. As a Wizard’s apprentice, I had helped my master place protective spells over many businesses and homes. I can sense protection ward anywhere; a skill that makes me a successful thief. My senses and my spells had detected nothing this time, even though the air around this place tasted … wrong.It smelled like a trap, but if there is one iota of truth to the story, I had to try for the prize? So there I was, entering a dilapidated, ready to collapse house in order to find hidden treasure. In earlier days of the city’s history, someone important lived here, and had left behind--due to an early demise--a treasure worth a prince’s ransom. That is the story I overheard. A powerful spell had hidden the treasure for years, but now the spell was fading--spells do lose strength as the decades flow past-- leaving the hiding place detectable to someone with minimal training in sorcery, which is what I am.Now, having exhausted the first four finding spells I had prepared, one remained. More powerful than the others, but it had to be cast from within the building to detect the treasure’s hiding place. This spell would surely detect any ward spells that my first four castings had failed to find, but too late to help me evade them. It would be necessary to battle the wards using my apprentice level magic. That fight might result in my death. Protection wards are set by Masters with aid from their apprentices. I had been an apprentice, giving me a chance to survive, but not a good one, but the protection wards might not even exist.Ghost walking away from the garden wall I moved towards the house. My concealment cloak kept me invisible, as long as I remained still, but moving was different, and any noise I made was detectable. Concealment cloaks stop you from being seen. They do not muffle noise. There is one spell that stops sound, but it causes a ringing in the ears which limits its use to desperate times. Just walk with care my Master always said, but walking with care causes disturbances in the magical waves. It causes interference in the fields of magic, which must be considered and dampened if complete non-detection is desired. This is done in ways only a practitioner of magic knows how to do, and it is what I did as I moved through the overgrowth towards the building.The pathway I followed wandered through gardens that still hinting at the care they had once received, and through small plots of grass, so thick it reminded me of air underfoot. I know the way walking on air feels. My Master let me experience that spell for myself once. It felt like walking on that grass.The house had lost its doors long ago. Leaves, branches, and other invaders from the world beyond had accumulated in most corners and along the base of walls. Moonlight through the many holes in the roof illuminated high walls. After careful and lengthy surveillance, I crept across to them.The smooth marble wall contained vertical seams. No hand or foot holds to help with climbing, so I used an elevation spell, rode it up, and crouched on the top. In the moonlight, ribbons of wall tops stretched out before me, with the farthest lost in darkness. The walls proved somewhat smaller than my foot in width. Others might consider this maze an obstacle, but I am a thief, and an apprentice wizard. I moved forward on talented feet.Moonlight illuminated many halls and rooms below me, others remained dark and sinister. My ghosting sense was working overtime. As I paused to look for a pathway to the centre I thought I detected a sound from behind, I froze.Nothing happened. I ghosted on, winding my way along wall tops from intersection to intersection. My instruction regarding mazes told me to pick one direction and turn that way whenever given a choice, but I must admit I might have dozed during that lesson. Well, on more than just that one. My Master tended to imparted wisdom in a monotonous teaching voice. My passage along the walls produced a whisper of sound and a hazy ghost afterimage for any watchers. With care I made my way closer to the centre. The openings below me lost width. No rooms now, just hallways. I targeted a junction of four walls and headed in that direction. Easier to do with the narrower hallways, but it still took a few frustrating left turns before I stood there. This junction was close enough to the centre for what I needed to do.My body tensed as I cast the discovery spell, spinning in a circle, throwing an enhanced dust away from me. The sparkling blue of the spell scattered and hung in the air for moments before moving together. The dust adheres to any lines of power it encounters. Identifying just one I hoped, the one that located the treasure, if it existed. My muscles relaxed as a single power line glowed in the air, but as I stepped forward a projectile tore out of the darkness. I dropped from the wall, moved five steps, and froze. A crossbow bolt had pierced a few folds of cloth in my cloak.I waited until my heart was no longer hammering in my ears before I started again. Moving was not something I wanted to do, but I had to. My discovery spell had a build in self-destruct, if not deactivated. Not strong. It wouldn’t blow things up, but it would knock them loose, especially the skeletal roof beams above my head.I moved forward with care, frustration building with each turn, until I reached where the blue line ended. As I knelt, my arm outstretched to dissipate my spell, something landed on my back. I threw myself against the wall, but the thing hung on. It snaked a limb across my throat. I flung out my arm trying to throw the stop command to the end point of my spell, which now showed sparks within the blue. It didn’t work.The concussion of the self-destruct threw me and my attacker backwards. I rolled twice and landed in moonlight. My attacker scrambled to the shadows along the wall. From above came groans and snaps of separating joints. The skeletal roof collapsed. Before I lost consciousness I glimpsed a whiskered, fur covered face emerge from the shadows.I spat dirt when I awoke. Grit covered my face, and pain throbbing above my shoulders. Something heavy lay across my back, something else across my legs. I opened my eyes and found a hand hanging before them. Who’s and how I did not understand. I located one of my hands, at the end of a half-buried arm. As I move it, rubble fell away. When it reached my face I touched the other hand. It was a dead thing, senseless. I pushed it, and tingling started, another push, the tingling increased until it became painful. The thing was mine I realized, feeling dead from the position it occupied above my head. I moved it.“So, you live,” a voice said. “I was afraid you were dead.”It was a female voice and familiar in a vague way. “Thanks for your concern.”“Concern! Sure. Concern that you might die before I can kill you in the way you deserve,” she replied.I was building a spell to release me from the debris, but I changed it to something more defensive. I needed time though. “Why do you want to kill me?”“Because you left me with this.”“With what?” I asked, although I was sure I knew the answer. I remembered the quick glimpse of whiskers and fur coming out of the shadows.Slowly she lowered herself into my limited line of sight, revealing a mouse’s face on a woman’s head and shoulders.“Remember me, Forn?”“Yes, of course I remember you Ally, but I didn’t do that to you.”“You left me looking this way, and you destroyed the Blood Orb. Without it, I am told, the spell cannot be lifted.”“Do you remember stealing the Orb from me and trying to sell it?” I asked in my most delicate manner. She didn’t answer. “Your face is not my fault. I tried to save you.”She pointed to the fur on her face as if reluctant to touch it, “But you left me… this way,” then her expression hardened, “and I will kill you for it.” Her face disappeared from sight.“Wait Ally, please, what if I could fix it?”“It can’t be undone. Don’t you think I’ve tried? You destroyed the Orb. Without it the spell cannot be broken. I’ve visited every wizard in this city. Everyone says the same thing. I will have a mouse face until I die, and I have you to thank.”“There are other wizards in other cities.”“To travel through the wilds at night is dangerous, and these days, I only travel after sunset.”My spell was ready. If she struck me the concussion should knock her away. I hoped. Hastily concocted spells are dangerous. You can’t always be sure of the effect. One misplaced syllable, one misplaced pause, and it goes bang instead of pop. I preferred not to use it if possible.“I could make you look the way I remember you.”She screamed, “It can’t be undone. Don’t you understand?”I spoke delicately trying to ease her anger. “I understand what you are saying, but a glamour spell could make you look as you did before. People will see the old you instead of the m--.” I paused.“Monster, is that what you were going to say?”“No. I was going to say, mouse. I don’t see you as a monster.”“Liar,” she said flatly. “Liar,” she repeated louder. “Liar,” she screamed, and I knew what was coming. My spell went pop, well maybe somewhere partway between pop and bang. When the dust settled again I could move. I did.Ally was lying against a wall. She wasn’t moving, and there was blood on her forehead, or whatever you call that part of a mouse’s head. I went closer. She still didn’t move, but her chest was rising and falling. She was alive. Should I help her? I wanted to, but she had tried to kill me, despite my pleading. “Goodbye Miss Mousy,” I whispered as I turned away, and then I stopped.Across the room, in the place my detection spell had identified, something was moving. Something pale was pushing up out of the debris. It clutched, groped for purchase, and slid back. The sound of metal grating against stone dominated everything. It tried again. I recognized claws this time as they dug into a large section of broken pillar. Claws able to dig into stone are never a good sign. A second clawed hand thrust up. Move, leave now my head was telling me, but I couldn’t abandon Ally to this thing.I squatted beside her and patted her cheek. She didn’t stir. I slapped her, and her eyes fluttered open. Clamping my hand over her lower face, I mouthed, “quiet”, and slipped to the side. We both looked towards the noise. A quick glance told me that Ally’s eyes were wide open now.The thing was clawing and squirming its way up out of the floor. It appeared to be a huge worm with arms. The body was as thick as a big man’s chest, half a tall person’s length was out of the hole, but more was emerging. I pulled at Ally, indicating we should back away, but as we started to creep along the hallway, it saw us.We froze. The thing’s head opened to reveal a mouth big enough to encompass my head. It was full of dagger sized teeth. The thing tried to surge up. The edges of the hole broke away from around its body. Its struggle upwards, failed, and fell back leaving the arms extended fully. Ally’s short sword slid from its scabbard. She leaped forward. Her blade sliced cleanly through one arm. With part of its hold broken, the thing twisted away, and then swung back. My spell was half ready, but I threw it regardless. The flames struck the thing’s mouth, scorching Ally’s shoulder on the way past, but giving her time to move. Springing forward she chopped through the other arm. The creature disappeared back into the ground. The sound of thrashing continued accompanied by a different sound. We crept forward to the edge of the hole. Below I could make out the glint of gold and the sparkle of gems.“So there is a treasure,” Ally observed. “Do you have a spell that will kill that thing?”“I believe I can come up with something, but it will take a few days.”She turned to me then. The sword was still in her hand, and I was wary. She noticed and sheathed it.“Thanks,” she said. “You could have left me.”“No, not this time, in fact, my idea was to stay around, if you don’t mind.”She looked deeply into me and then pointed to her face. “Even when I look this way?” I reached a hand up to brush her cheek before I slipped it behind her neck and activated a glamour spell. I pulled her to me. She looked like her old self, but her whiskers tickled my face, and her fur felt soft under my lips. I kept my eyes open while we kissed.The End
© Dave Skinner, August 2015
Of mouse, man, and monsterI overcame my urge to leave. The building was derelict, the entrance open and unguarded, no protective spells, and no lights showed. Sounds perfect for a robbery, but the story I had heard made me suspicious. As a Wizard’s apprentice, I had helped my master place protective spells over many businesses and homes. I can sense protection ward anywhere; a skill that makes me a successful thief. My senses and my spells had detected nothing this time, even though the air around this place tasted … wrong.It smelled like a trap, but if there is one iota of truth to the story, I had to try for the prize? So there I was, entering a dilapidated, ready to collapse house in order to find hidden treasure. In earlier days of the city’s history, someone important lived here, and had left behind--due to an early demise--a treasure worth a prince’s ransom. That is the story I overheard. A powerful spell had hidden the treasure for years, but now the spell was fading--spells do lose strength as the decades flow past-- leaving the hiding place detectable to someone with minimal training in sorcery, which is what I am.Now, having exhausted the first four finding spells I had prepared, one remained. More powerful than the others, but it had to be cast from within the building to detect the treasure’s hiding place. This spell would surely detect any ward spells that my first four castings had failed to find, but too late to help me evade them. It would be necessary to battle the wards using my apprentice level magic. That fight might result in my death. Protection wards are set by Masters with aid from their apprentices. I had been an apprentice, giving me a chance to survive, but not a good one, but the protection wards might not even exist.Ghost walking away from the garden wall I moved towards the house. My concealment cloak kept me invisible, as long as I remained still, but moving was different, and any noise I made was detectable. Concealment cloaks stop you from being seen. They do not muffle noise. There is one spell that stops sound, but it causes a ringing in the ears which limits its use to desperate times. Just walk with care my Master always said, but walking with care causes disturbances in the magical waves. It causes interference in the fields of magic, which must be considered and dampened if complete non-detection is desired. This is done in ways only a practitioner of magic knows how to do, and it is what I did as I moved through the overgrowth towards the building.The pathway I followed wandered through gardens that still hinting at the care they had once received, and through small plots of grass, so thick it reminded me of air underfoot. I know the way walking on air feels. My Master let me experience that spell for myself once. It felt like walking on that grass.The house had lost its doors long ago. Leaves, branches, and other invaders from the world beyond had accumulated in most corners and along the base of walls. Moonlight through the many holes in the roof illuminated high walls. After careful and lengthy surveillance, I crept across to them.The smooth marble wall contained vertical seams. No hand or foot holds to help with climbing, so I used an elevation spell, rode it up, and crouched on the top. In the moonlight, ribbons of wall tops stretched out before me, with the farthest lost in darkness. The walls proved somewhat smaller than my foot in width. Others might consider this maze an obstacle, but I am a thief, and an apprentice wizard. I moved forward on talented feet.Moonlight illuminated many halls and rooms below me, others remained dark and sinister. My ghosting sense was working overtime. As I paused to look for a pathway to the centre I thought I detected a sound from behind, I froze.Nothing happened. I ghosted on, winding my way along wall tops from intersection to intersection. My instruction regarding mazes told me to pick one direction and turn that way whenever given a choice, but I must admit I might have dozed during that lesson. Well, on more than just that one. My Master tended to imparted wisdom in a monotonous teaching voice. My passage along the walls produced a whisper of sound and a hazy ghost afterimage for any watchers. With care I made my way closer to the centre. The openings below me lost width. No rooms now, just hallways. I targeted a junction of four walls and headed in that direction. Easier to do with the narrower hallways, but it still took a few frustrating left turns before I stood there. This junction was close enough to the centre for what I needed to do.My body tensed as I cast the discovery spell, spinning in a circle, throwing an enhanced dust away from me. The sparkling blue of the spell scattered and hung in the air for moments before moving together. The dust adheres to any lines of power it encounters. Identifying just one I hoped, the one that located the treasure, if it existed. My muscles relaxed as a single power line glowed in the air, but as I stepped forward a projectile tore out of the darkness. I dropped from the wall, moved five steps, and froze. A crossbow bolt had pierced a few folds of cloth in my cloak.I waited until my heart was no longer hammering in my ears before I started again. Moving was not something I wanted to do, but I had to. My discovery spell had a build in self-destruct, if not deactivated. Not strong. It wouldn’t blow things up, but it would knock them loose, especially the skeletal roof beams above my head.I moved forward with care, frustration building with each turn, until I reached where the blue line ended. As I knelt, my arm outstretched to dissipate my spell, something landed on my back. I threw myself against the wall, but the thing hung on. It snaked a limb across my throat. I flung out my arm trying to throw the stop command to the end point of my spell, which now showed sparks within the blue. It didn’t work.The concussion of the self-destruct threw me and my attacker backwards. I rolled twice and landed in moonlight. My attacker scrambled to the shadows along the wall. From above came groans and snaps of separating joints. The skeletal roof collapsed. Before I lost consciousness I glimpsed a whiskered, fur covered face emerge from the shadows.I spat dirt when I awoke. Grit covered my face, and pain throbbing above my shoulders. Something heavy lay across my back, something else across my legs. I opened my eyes and found a hand hanging before them. Who’s and how I did not understand. I located one of my hands, at the end of a half-buried arm. As I move it, rubble fell away. When it reached my face I touched the other hand. It was a dead thing, senseless. I pushed it, and tingling started, another push, the tingling increased until it became painful. The thing was mine I realized, feeling dead from the position it occupied above my head. I moved it.“So, you live,” a voice said. “I was afraid you were dead.”It was a female voice and familiar in a vague way. “Thanks for your concern.”“Concern! Sure. Concern that you might die before I can kill you in the way you deserve,” she replied.I was building a spell to release me from the debris, but I changed it to something more defensive. I needed time though. “Why do you want to kill me?”“Because you left me with this.”“With what?” I asked, although I was sure I knew the answer. I remembered the quick glimpse of whiskers and fur coming out of the shadows.Slowly she lowered herself into my limited line of sight, revealing a mouse’s face on a woman’s head and shoulders.“Remember me, Forn?”“Yes, of course I remember you Ally, but I didn’t do that to you.”“You left me looking this way, and you destroyed the Blood Orb. Without it, I am told, the spell cannot be lifted.”“Do you remember stealing the Orb from me and trying to sell it?” I asked in my most delicate manner. She didn’t answer. “Your face is not my fault. I tried to save you.”She pointed to the fur on her face as if reluctant to touch it, “But you left me… this way,” then her expression hardened, “and I will kill you for it.” Her face disappeared from sight.“Wait Ally, please, what if I could fix it?”“It can’t be undone. Don’t you think I’ve tried? You destroyed the Orb. Without it the spell cannot be broken. I’ve visited every wizard in this city. Everyone says the same thing. I will have a mouse face until I die, and I have you to thank.”“There are other wizards in other cities.”“To travel through the wilds at night is dangerous, and these days, I only travel after sunset.”My spell was ready. If she struck me the concussion should knock her away. I hoped. Hastily concocted spells are dangerous. You can’t always be sure of the effect. One misplaced syllable, one misplaced pause, and it goes bang instead of pop. I preferred not to use it if possible.“I could make you look the way I remember you.”She screamed, “It can’t be undone. Don’t you understand?”I spoke delicately trying to ease her anger. “I understand what you are saying, but a glamour spell could make you look as you did before. People will see the old you instead of the m--.” I paused.“Monster, is that what you were going to say?”“No. I was going to say, mouse. I don’t see you as a monster.”“Liar,” she said flatly. “Liar,” she repeated louder. “Liar,” she screamed, and I knew what was coming. My spell went pop, well maybe somewhere partway between pop and bang. When the dust settled again I could move. I did.Ally was lying against a wall. She wasn’t moving, and there was blood on her forehead, or whatever you call that part of a mouse’s head. I went closer. She still didn’t move, but her chest was rising and falling. She was alive. Should I help her? I wanted to, but she had tried to kill me, despite my pleading. “Goodbye Miss Mousy,” I whispered as I turned away, and then I stopped.Across the room, in the place my detection spell had identified, something was moving. Something pale was pushing up out of the debris. It clutched, groped for purchase, and slid back. The sound of metal grating against stone dominated everything. It tried again. I recognized claws this time as they dug into a large section of broken pillar. Claws able to dig into stone are never a good sign. A second clawed hand thrust up. Move, leave now my head was telling me, but I couldn’t abandon Ally to this thing.I squatted beside her and patted her cheek. She didn’t stir. I slapped her, and her eyes fluttered open. Clamping my hand over her lower face, I mouthed, “quiet”, and slipped to the side. We both looked towards the noise. A quick glance told me that Ally’s eyes were wide open now.The thing was clawing and squirming its way up out of the floor. It appeared to be a huge worm with arms. The body was as thick as a big man’s chest, half a tall person’s length was out of the hole, but more was emerging. I pulled at Ally, indicating we should back away, but as we started to creep along the hallway, it saw us.We froze. The thing’s head opened to reveal a mouth big enough to encompass my head. It was full of dagger sized teeth. The thing tried to surge up. The edges of the hole broke away from around its body. Its struggle upwards, failed, and fell back leaving the arms extended fully. Ally’s short sword slid from its scabbard. She leaped forward. Her blade sliced cleanly through one arm. With part of its hold broken, the thing twisted away, and then swung back. My spell was half ready, but I threw it regardless. The flames struck the thing’s mouth, scorching Ally’s shoulder on the way past, but giving her time to move. Springing forward she chopped through the other arm. The creature disappeared back into the ground. The sound of thrashing continued accompanied by a different sound. We crept forward to the edge of the hole. Below I could make out the glint of gold and the sparkle of gems.“So there is a treasure,” Ally observed. “Do you have a spell that will kill that thing?”“I believe I can come up with something, but it will take a few days.”She turned to me then. The sword was still in her hand, and I was wary. She noticed and sheathed it.“Thanks,” she said. “You could have left me.”“No, not this time, in fact, my idea was to stay around, if you don’t mind.”She looked deeply into me and then pointed to her face. “Even when I look this way?” I reached a hand up to brush her cheek before I slipped it behind her neck and activated a glamour spell. I pulled her to me. She looked like her old self, but her whiskers tickled my face, and her fur felt soft under my lips. I kept my eyes open while we kissed.The End
© Dave Skinner, August 2015
Of thieves and wizards
This story won an honourable emntion from Buzz and Roar Publishing in one of their writing contests.
Of thieves and wizards
Climbing a tower to steal from a wizard is not something to be undertaken lightly. I was still bolstering my courage when I saw her, so I let her go first. She didn't know it or have a choice because she hadn’t realized I was there. She had walked right past my hiding place without noticing me. So I watched her as she ascended, moving from stone to stone. I had been tempted to introduce myself. She was a striking woman even with the camouflage paint smeared on her face. I had noticed her earlier. She had been in the Pregnant Pony, the same tavern I had used. She was turning away advances, so I didn't bother making the effort. Now I knew the reason. We had both been waiting for the same thing, to assault the wizard's tower, and steal the Blood Orb. She climbed well, and it wasn't long before she disappeared into the shadows. Sometime later I saw her slip over the crenellation at the top. That was when I started my climb. Why, you ask? Why attempt the robbery when another thief was ahead of me? First reason is because the Blood Orb is worth the trouble. It is not a large stone, barely as big as a sparrow’s egg, but it is perfectly round. More impressive still is the colour; it is blood red, the only stone of its kind, and a powerful magical talisman as well. Finally, there is the truth my teacher shared with me as I sat by his knee; treasure only goes to those who try.The climb wasn’t difficult. There were a lot of holds for hands and toes where the stones jutted out. I have noticed this before on wizard made strongholds. A good stone mason would have shaped his raw materials to accommodate the roundness of the building, but mages never bother. No pride in mundane tasks I supposed. Whatever the reason, it worked in my favour. I had to swing somewhat around the perimeter as I worked my way up, in order to find a route suitable to my fingers.The other thief had gone almost straight up. She must have smaller hands and feet, or maybe she is magically enabled. I had considered doing a climbing enhancement myself, but the cost of the spell wasn’t worth it considering what I had already spent in preparation. Anyway, my more circular route brought me close to a window, and just as I was passing I heard a commotion and voices. Information is important, so I took time to look.It wasn’t much of an opening, square and not as big across as my forearm. It allowed me to spy on what was happening because the room was now bright with torch light. The girl was pinned up against a wall, probably by magic. I couldn’t see any other cause. The wizard was rising from a bed where I assumed he had been sleeping. Not a difficult conclusion considering the night shirt he was wearing.“. . . come to steal my Orb,” he was saying. “When are fools like you going to learn that my magic is too strong for pitiful attempts like this? I am the mighty Corban Dow, possessor of the Blood Orb, wizard of the fourth order, and you my dear are a thief. I could summons the Guard and have you imprisoned, but that would not serve the purpose of dissuading others of your ilk, so I have come up with an alternative.”Corban Dow slipped his feet into slippers and shuffled over to a workbench in the middle of the room. I wished he would hurry up and do whatever he was going to do because my fingers were getting tired. He opened the top of a wooden box covered in magical symbols that was now readily to hand and removed the Blood Orb. It was everything I remembered it to be, spectacular and powerful. I could feel the pull of the magic as soon as it escaped the box.Holding the Orb in his outstretched hand, the wizard pointed at his prisoner and intoned a spell. I could see crimson energy spew out from the Orb and encircle the unfortunate girl. The spells effect was immediately obvious. Her weapons floated away on strands of crimson coming to rest in a chest that popped open. Her clothes followed the weapons. I enjoyed the sight of her naked body until it started to change. Fur grew quickly, covering her entirety in moments, and then she transformed . . . lost size . . . became . . . a mouse, a cute mouse, but still a mouse.“You will remain in that form until I feel you have learned your lesson, and then I will change you back and allow you to leave. Well I will change most of you back. I believe I will leave your face as it is now. It will help to punctuate the lesson I want you and your kind to learn. Messing with me is ill advised. If I had a cat —”I couldn’t hang on the window sill any longer, so I continued my climb. Sure, I could have descended and forgotten the Orb. I could have left Miss Mousy to his machinations without too many sleepless nights, but they weren’t my reason for continuing the climb. Revenge was.When I reached the top, working the strain out of my hands took some effort, but I used the time to make a modification to one of my own enchantments. I had refined my spells to work with the intonation of a single word, but if I was no longer a person — well one gets the idea. Eventually I made my way inside and crept down from the roof to the level of the windowed room.The hallway was unlit, and no light showed through the space under the door. I felt the doorjamb around where the hinges were. There was a silky wet feel to the wood. Miss Mousy must have treated the hinges, but I dripped my own lubricant through the crack and set two of my spells before I eased the door open. The hinges made no noise. I crept in and was slammed up against the wall. He was a light sleeper, I guess. Torches flared and I could see the wizard sitting up on his bed.“Another visitor, aren’t I blessed tonight. I suppose you are another thief here to steal the Orb.”I tried to answer but nothing came out, my mouth moved, that was all. From what I had seen at the window, I was pretty sure this was a counter-measure spell. It works against your attempted movements. The more you struggle the stronger you are held, so I relaxed and tried speaking again.“Hungry.”“What?”“I said I’m hungry. I was looking for food.” He must have relaxed the spell somewhat or it was losing strength because it was easier for me to speak.“You bypassed the kitchen, and the other three floors, and climbed to the top of my tower to look for food. That is a ridiculous story. You are after the Orb. Admit it.”“I didn’t see the other floors. I climbed the outside of the tower, and I have never heard of, the Orb.”“You climbed the outside. That is a dangerous way to enter. Why would you do that?”“I saw . . . it looked . . . I was desperate.”He studied me for a few moments. “You saw what?”“I saw that the stones were laid poorly. It didn’t look that difficult.”“And you saw someone else doing it. Correct?”I looked around the room, but didn’t answer. He laughed, a sinister cackle suggesting he had gleamed the truth despite my efforts at subterfuge.“You saw someone else climbing the tower and you are trying to give her a chance to escape. You are noble, and foolish. Your friend has already met her fate.” He motioned to the table where I could see Miss Mousy scurrying around under a glass bell jar.I tried to look surprised and terrified. The last part wasn’t difficult.“Now it is your turn.”“Wait . . . wait . . . what are you going to do? I just wanted food.”“When I finish your transformation you can eat. Of course, I don’t keep food scraps up here, but there is always the mouse. She should look tasty to you in your new form.”He had gone to the work bench to retrieve the Blood Orb while he gloated. Pointing it my way he intoned a spell. I watched my weapons and clothes pulled away and deposited in the chest. Everything had a crimson cast to it as I spoke my first spell. I felt the transformation start. I couldn’t see what was occurring, but I knew feathers were growing all over my body, or at least I hoped they were. My perspective changed as I grew smaller. I closed my eyes. No longer pinned against the wall, I dropped towards the floor. My wings flew out, and I hooted to activate my other spells.The candles went out; my lubricant ignited blowing the door open with a magnificent explosion; I snapped my eyes open and sprang into the air. I scratched the wizard’s hand with one claw, captured the Orb as he dropped it, swooped, knocked over the bell jar, grabbed Miss Mousy, and escaped out the window.A blast of energy singed my tail features, forcing me into a clumsy dive around the tower. Once out of a direct line of sight from the window, I managed to gain some altitude again using the heated air from a few chimneys. With my tail features singed I admit it was less than a graceful flight, but I never thought it would be anything else. I have never been an owl before. Thankfully, it was a quick trip.We were out of the city and at my hideout in the woods before long. Landing was awkward with one foot holding the Orb and the other holding Miss Mousy. In fact I ended up plowing a furrow with my beak. I spat out the dirt and intoned the enchantment to change back. It worked for both of us, and there I was with dirt in my mouth, a naked woman on one arm, a burnt behind, and the Blood Orb in hand. I spat out more dirt.“I have to hide the Orb before he thinks to look for its energy,” I told Miss Mousy as I struggled up and into the cabin. When my magically prepared box snapped shut with the Orb inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Step one complete.“Thank you, he was going to keep me in mouse form for . . . until . . . a long time. You saved me.”She was standing in the doorway, looking fine, but also visibly shaken and exhilarated. I felt aroused also. Danger does that. “I thought about leaving you until I came back. If you hadn’t been in the jar on the table I would have. We were lucky.”She was walking towards me as I spoke, then we were standing together, then she was in my arms, and then —.* * *Her name was Ally. She was a thief. She was smart, quick, and talented. She could do marvelous things with her hands, and over the next two weeks she taught me the finer points while I was preparing to return to the tower.“Why are you going back?” she asked when I told her I was almost ready. “He is still a capable wizard even without the Orb. It is an unnecessary risk to your person.”“He is evil. He destroyed the man who trained me, killed him and his whole family. They were my friends. He must pay for his crimes.”“So you think a half trained wizard can kill the one who destroyed his teacher.”“I did okay when I stole the Orb.”“You were lucky. Let’s sell the Orb and get away from here before he finds us. I know someone who will buy it. We can trust him.”“He killed my master and his family. I swore to get revenge.”“You’re a fool,” she informed me. “We all need money to survive. I do … and so do you. How do you expect to pay for the rest of your training?”“I’ll find a Wizard who needs an apprentice.” She laughed. Went quiet for a few moments, and then she sprawled back on the bed. “I am in need of a Wizard’s apprentice.” She stretched her body across the bed.I felt faint for a moment as my blood rushed to certain extremities, and then I was okay. When I awoke the next morning she was gone, and so was the Orb.I took me most of the day to reach the city and find the fence she used. I had hoped she would us the one I knew, but I was not that lucky. My fence sent me to another, who sent me on to another, and another. As I said, it took all day. This city is full of thieves and fences, but finally I found him.His shop was closed and shuttered. That didn’t stop me. I am a thief and a wizard after all, but it did slow me down a bit, which was unfortunate for the fence. He was dead by the time I got inside. Ally was back up against a wall. The wizard was in the centre of the room when I barged in. He had already changed Ally’s face.“Don’t kill her. You have the Orb. We won’t bother you again. Just let her go. There is no reason to kill her,” I pleaded after he slammed me against the wall. “We won’t tell anyone that we outsmarted you.”He thought about it, as I hoped he would. “I was going to leave her with a mouse’s face, but you are right. It won’t do any good to warn others away if you are alive to tell your tale. I should kill you now, but your resourcefulness makes me leery. You probably have a spell set to counter the effect of whatever I throw at you.” He turned to Ally, “which is too bad for you little mouse, because you will die in his stead.”The Blood Orb brightened in his hand as he lifted it and pointed at Ally. He spoke the same killing spell he had used on my master. Thank the gods for that. The enchantment I had worked on the Orb for the last two weeks changed his magic as I had planned. His crimsonness was sucked into the stone, which must have been painful. He screamed a lot.As soon as he was gone we were released.“You saved my life again,” Ally said attempting a seductive smile.“Yes. Too bad about his other spell though.”The smile disappeared as she reached up to touch her face. The fur and whisker were easy for her talented hands to feel. She screamed and crumpled to the floor.“Good bye, Miss Mousy,” I said as I slipped out the door.The End
© Dave Skinner 2015
Of thieves and wizards
Climbing a tower to steal from a wizard is not something to be undertaken lightly. I was still bolstering my courage when I saw her, so I let her go first. She didn't know it or have a choice because she hadn’t realized I was there. She had walked right past my hiding place without noticing me. So I watched her as she ascended, moving from stone to stone. I had been tempted to introduce myself. She was a striking woman even with the camouflage paint smeared on her face. I had noticed her earlier. She had been in the Pregnant Pony, the same tavern I had used. She was turning away advances, so I didn't bother making the effort. Now I knew the reason. We had both been waiting for the same thing, to assault the wizard's tower, and steal the Blood Orb. She climbed well, and it wasn't long before she disappeared into the shadows. Sometime later I saw her slip over the crenellation at the top. That was when I started my climb. Why, you ask? Why attempt the robbery when another thief was ahead of me? First reason is because the Blood Orb is worth the trouble. It is not a large stone, barely as big as a sparrow’s egg, but it is perfectly round. More impressive still is the colour; it is blood red, the only stone of its kind, and a powerful magical talisman as well. Finally, there is the truth my teacher shared with me as I sat by his knee; treasure only goes to those who try.The climb wasn’t difficult. There were a lot of holds for hands and toes where the stones jutted out. I have noticed this before on wizard made strongholds. A good stone mason would have shaped his raw materials to accommodate the roundness of the building, but mages never bother. No pride in mundane tasks I supposed. Whatever the reason, it worked in my favour. I had to swing somewhat around the perimeter as I worked my way up, in order to find a route suitable to my fingers.The other thief had gone almost straight up. She must have smaller hands and feet, or maybe she is magically enabled. I had considered doing a climbing enhancement myself, but the cost of the spell wasn’t worth it considering what I had already spent in preparation. Anyway, my more circular route brought me close to a window, and just as I was passing I heard a commotion and voices. Information is important, so I took time to look.It wasn’t much of an opening, square and not as big across as my forearm. It allowed me to spy on what was happening because the room was now bright with torch light. The girl was pinned up against a wall, probably by magic. I couldn’t see any other cause. The wizard was rising from a bed where I assumed he had been sleeping. Not a difficult conclusion considering the night shirt he was wearing.“. . . come to steal my Orb,” he was saying. “When are fools like you going to learn that my magic is too strong for pitiful attempts like this? I am the mighty Corban Dow, possessor of the Blood Orb, wizard of the fourth order, and you my dear are a thief. I could summons the Guard and have you imprisoned, but that would not serve the purpose of dissuading others of your ilk, so I have come up with an alternative.”Corban Dow slipped his feet into slippers and shuffled over to a workbench in the middle of the room. I wished he would hurry up and do whatever he was going to do because my fingers were getting tired. He opened the top of a wooden box covered in magical symbols that was now readily to hand and removed the Blood Orb. It was everything I remembered it to be, spectacular and powerful. I could feel the pull of the magic as soon as it escaped the box.Holding the Orb in his outstretched hand, the wizard pointed at his prisoner and intoned a spell. I could see crimson energy spew out from the Orb and encircle the unfortunate girl. The spells effect was immediately obvious. Her weapons floated away on strands of crimson coming to rest in a chest that popped open. Her clothes followed the weapons. I enjoyed the sight of her naked body until it started to change. Fur grew quickly, covering her entirety in moments, and then she transformed . . . lost size . . . became . . . a mouse, a cute mouse, but still a mouse.“You will remain in that form until I feel you have learned your lesson, and then I will change you back and allow you to leave. Well I will change most of you back. I believe I will leave your face as it is now. It will help to punctuate the lesson I want you and your kind to learn. Messing with me is ill advised. If I had a cat —”I couldn’t hang on the window sill any longer, so I continued my climb. Sure, I could have descended and forgotten the Orb. I could have left Miss Mousy to his machinations without too many sleepless nights, but they weren’t my reason for continuing the climb. Revenge was.When I reached the top, working the strain out of my hands took some effort, but I used the time to make a modification to one of my own enchantments. I had refined my spells to work with the intonation of a single word, but if I was no longer a person — well one gets the idea. Eventually I made my way inside and crept down from the roof to the level of the windowed room.The hallway was unlit, and no light showed through the space under the door. I felt the doorjamb around where the hinges were. There was a silky wet feel to the wood. Miss Mousy must have treated the hinges, but I dripped my own lubricant through the crack and set two of my spells before I eased the door open. The hinges made no noise. I crept in and was slammed up against the wall. He was a light sleeper, I guess. Torches flared and I could see the wizard sitting up on his bed.“Another visitor, aren’t I blessed tonight. I suppose you are another thief here to steal the Orb.”I tried to answer but nothing came out, my mouth moved, that was all. From what I had seen at the window, I was pretty sure this was a counter-measure spell. It works against your attempted movements. The more you struggle the stronger you are held, so I relaxed and tried speaking again.“Hungry.”“What?”“I said I’m hungry. I was looking for food.” He must have relaxed the spell somewhat or it was losing strength because it was easier for me to speak.“You bypassed the kitchen, and the other three floors, and climbed to the top of my tower to look for food. That is a ridiculous story. You are after the Orb. Admit it.”“I didn’t see the other floors. I climbed the outside of the tower, and I have never heard of, the Orb.”“You climbed the outside. That is a dangerous way to enter. Why would you do that?”“I saw . . . it looked . . . I was desperate.”He studied me for a few moments. “You saw what?”“I saw that the stones were laid poorly. It didn’t look that difficult.”“And you saw someone else doing it. Correct?”I looked around the room, but didn’t answer. He laughed, a sinister cackle suggesting he had gleamed the truth despite my efforts at subterfuge.“You saw someone else climbing the tower and you are trying to give her a chance to escape. You are noble, and foolish. Your friend has already met her fate.” He motioned to the table where I could see Miss Mousy scurrying around under a glass bell jar.I tried to look surprised and terrified. The last part wasn’t difficult.“Now it is your turn.”“Wait . . . wait . . . what are you going to do? I just wanted food.”“When I finish your transformation you can eat. Of course, I don’t keep food scraps up here, but there is always the mouse. She should look tasty to you in your new form.”He had gone to the work bench to retrieve the Blood Orb while he gloated. Pointing it my way he intoned a spell. I watched my weapons and clothes pulled away and deposited in the chest. Everything had a crimson cast to it as I spoke my first spell. I felt the transformation start. I couldn’t see what was occurring, but I knew feathers were growing all over my body, or at least I hoped they were. My perspective changed as I grew smaller. I closed my eyes. No longer pinned against the wall, I dropped towards the floor. My wings flew out, and I hooted to activate my other spells.The candles went out; my lubricant ignited blowing the door open with a magnificent explosion; I snapped my eyes open and sprang into the air. I scratched the wizard’s hand with one claw, captured the Orb as he dropped it, swooped, knocked over the bell jar, grabbed Miss Mousy, and escaped out the window.A blast of energy singed my tail features, forcing me into a clumsy dive around the tower. Once out of a direct line of sight from the window, I managed to gain some altitude again using the heated air from a few chimneys. With my tail features singed I admit it was less than a graceful flight, but I never thought it would be anything else. I have never been an owl before. Thankfully, it was a quick trip.We were out of the city and at my hideout in the woods before long. Landing was awkward with one foot holding the Orb and the other holding Miss Mousy. In fact I ended up plowing a furrow with my beak. I spat out the dirt and intoned the enchantment to change back. It worked for both of us, and there I was with dirt in my mouth, a naked woman on one arm, a burnt behind, and the Blood Orb in hand. I spat out more dirt.“I have to hide the Orb before he thinks to look for its energy,” I told Miss Mousy as I struggled up and into the cabin. When my magically prepared box snapped shut with the Orb inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Step one complete.“Thank you, he was going to keep me in mouse form for . . . until . . . a long time. You saved me.”She was standing in the doorway, looking fine, but also visibly shaken and exhilarated. I felt aroused also. Danger does that. “I thought about leaving you until I came back. If you hadn’t been in the jar on the table I would have. We were lucky.”She was walking towards me as I spoke, then we were standing together, then she was in my arms, and then —.* * *Her name was Ally. She was a thief. She was smart, quick, and talented. She could do marvelous things with her hands, and over the next two weeks she taught me the finer points while I was preparing to return to the tower.“Why are you going back?” she asked when I told her I was almost ready. “He is still a capable wizard even without the Orb. It is an unnecessary risk to your person.”“He is evil. He destroyed the man who trained me, killed him and his whole family. They were my friends. He must pay for his crimes.”“So you think a half trained wizard can kill the one who destroyed his teacher.”“I did okay when I stole the Orb.”“You were lucky. Let’s sell the Orb and get away from here before he finds us. I know someone who will buy it. We can trust him.”“He killed my master and his family. I swore to get revenge.”“You’re a fool,” she informed me. “We all need money to survive. I do … and so do you. How do you expect to pay for the rest of your training?”“I’ll find a Wizard who needs an apprentice.” She laughed. Went quiet for a few moments, and then she sprawled back on the bed. “I am in need of a Wizard’s apprentice.” She stretched her body across the bed.I felt faint for a moment as my blood rushed to certain extremities, and then I was okay. When I awoke the next morning she was gone, and so was the Orb.I took me most of the day to reach the city and find the fence she used. I had hoped she would us the one I knew, but I was not that lucky. My fence sent me to another, who sent me on to another, and another. As I said, it took all day. This city is full of thieves and fences, but finally I found him.His shop was closed and shuttered. That didn’t stop me. I am a thief and a wizard after all, but it did slow me down a bit, which was unfortunate for the fence. He was dead by the time I got inside. Ally was back up against a wall. The wizard was in the centre of the room when I barged in. He had already changed Ally’s face.“Don’t kill her. You have the Orb. We won’t bother you again. Just let her go. There is no reason to kill her,” I pleaded after he slammed me against the wall. “We won’t tell anyone that we outsmarted you.”He thought about it, as I hoped he would. “I was going to leave her with a mouse’s face, but you are right. It won’t do any good to warn others away if you are alive to tell your tale. I should kill you now, but your resourcefulness makes me leery. You probably have a spell set to counter the effect of whatever I throw at you.” He turned to Ally, “which is too bad for you little mouse, because you will die in his stead.”The Blood Orb brightened in his hand as he lifted it and pointed at Ally. He spoke the same killing spell he had used on my master. Thank the gods for that. The enchantment I had worked on the Orb for the last two weeks changed his magic as I had planned. His crimsonness was sucked into the stone, which must have been painful. He screamed a lot.As soon as he was gone we were released.“You saved my life again,” Ally said attempting a seductive smile.“Yes. Too bad about his other spell though.”The smile disappeared as she reached up to touch her face. The fur and whisker were easy for her talented hands to feel. She screamed and crumpled to the floor.“Good bye, Miss Mousy,” I said as I slipped out the door.The End
© Dave Skinner 2015
November 21, 2015
Friends for Life
I think I might have been depressed when I wrote this story and the Hold Still story. Usually I try for a happy ending, but sometimes other endings are insistent.
Friends for LifeMy eyes were too full of tears to see where I was going, so when I bumped into the peer pylon it brought me up short and shocked. I wiped at my eyes, took a few more steps, collided with another pylon, and acknowledged my defeat by crumpling to the damp sand.They disliked him ever since the day they found him under my bed. “A cure, a mangy mongrel,” they said, but he was more. He licked my hand. He liked me. He was my friend.I always told myself that having a friend wasn’t important, so easy to deny something you have never experienced, or have forgotten. Now, in a friendship for days, I knew the truth. Having a friend was wonderful, or had been. The tears started again. I didn’t want to lose him. My parents died in a car crash. My friend kept the loneliness away.Aunt Betty shows me pictures of my parents, but I don’t remember them. She says they loved me, but I have forgotten their hugs or kisses. I have nothing that says I love you, except for my dog running his tongue across my hand. “He goes to the pound” they said. The truck had been on our street when I ran away, unable to face the expression I pictured my friend casting my way. The ‘love you’ look he always used.“I hate them,” I sobbed once, twice, and then again.Unwilling to be found, I crawled blindly, worming my way further under the peer into a rough made shelter, a place where no one could witness my sorrow.Icy water brought me awake. I felt around in the darkness. Below me were boards and water. I must have climbed onto this platform before I fell asleep. Another wave washed over the wood shocking me. With my feet over the side of the platform I tried to find the entrance, but the fast rising tide kept it hidden.My cage was triangular. Two sides built of slime covered boards attached at one end to a pylon, and at the other end to a free standing third wall of similar construction. In the blackness I couldn’t see a top. The spaces between the boards allowed me to climb, but squeezing through proved impossible. I climbed a wall, the water followed me.“Help,” I called. It came out as a whimper. The freezing water had stolen my breath. “Help,” I cried again. This time my voice was stronger. On the third try I put my fear into it. It echoed beneath the peer and died away. No answer was returned.Water lapped at my feet. I climbed higher and banged my head. My cage had a roof. A search found no larger opening even though I worked my way around the other sides, touching, hoping, but finding nothing.My next cry for help was a scream. The loudest, biggest scream I had ever managed. It reverberated back at me from the roof. It echoed around my tome before it died away. I heard it then, in the far distance, a long mournful howl. “I’m coming,” it said, followed by a bark, and then another. The water rose higher. I screamed again, and again, and again. Between my screams the barks grew louder, the water got deeper, until he was there.
The water reached my neck. With my fingers clinging to the top board, and my face jammed into a space between it and the roof, my friend licked my hand and then my face. The water rose above our heads.
Friends for LifeMy eyes were too full of tears to see where I was going, so when I bumped into the peer pylon it brought me up short and shocked. I wiped at my eyes, took a few more steps, collided with another pylon, and acknowledged my defeat by crumpling to the damp sand.They disliked him ever since the day they found him under my bed. “A cure, a mangy mongrel,” they said, but he was more. He licked my hand. He liked me. He was my friend.I always told myself that having a friend wasn’t important, so easy to deny something you have never experienced, or have forgotten. Now, in a friendship for days, I knew the truth. Having a friend was wonderful, or had been. The tears started again. I didn’t want to lose him. My parents died in a car crash. My friend kept the loneliness away.Aunt Betty shows me pictures of my parents, but I don’t remember them. She says they loved me, but I have forgotten their hugs or kisses. I have nothing that says I love you, except for my dog running his tongue across my hand. “He goes to the pound” they said. The truck had been on our street when I ran away, unable to face the expression I pictured my friend casting my way. The ‘love you’ look he always used.“I hate them,” I sobbed once, twice, and then again.Unwilling to be found, I crawled blindly, worming my way further under the peer into a rough made shelter, a place where no one could witness my sorrow.Icy water brought me awake. I felt around in the darkness. Below me were boards and water. I must have climbed onto this platform before I fell asleep. Another wave washed over the wood shocking me. With my feet over the side of the platform I tried to find the entrance, but the fast rising tide kept it hidden.My cage was triangular. Two sides built of slime covered boards attached at one end to a pylon, and at the other end to a free standing third wall of similar construction. In the blackness I couldn’t see a top. The spaces between the boards allowed me to climb, but squeezing through proved impossible. I climbed a wall, the water followed me.“Help,” I called. It came out as a whimper. The freezing water had stolen my breath. “Help,” I cried again. This time my voice was stronger. On the third try I put my fear into it. It echoed beneath the peer and died away. No answer was returned.Water lapped at my feet. I climbed higher and banged my head. My cage had a roof. A search found no larger opening even though I worked my way around the other sides, touching, hoping, but finding nothing.My next cry for help was a scream. The loudest, biggest scream I had ever managed. It reverberated back at me from the roof. It echoed around my tome before it died away. I heard it then, in the far distance, a long mournful howl. “I’m coming,” it said, followed by a bark, and then another. The water rose higher. I screamed again, and again, and again. Between my screams the barks grew louder, the water got deeper, until he was there.
The water reached my neck. With my fingers clinging to the top board, and my face jammed into a space between it and the roof, my friend licked my hand and then my face. The water rose above our heads.
November 15, 2015
Hold Still
"Where am I? Why am I strapped to this table?""We need to perform a final evaluation of your species. We chose a number of your kind to accomplish our goal. You are one of the chosen.""Lucky me.""I do not comprehend, lucky me."“It means, favoured by chance."A sound similar to the wheezing of bellows bounced off the walls."Incorrect," more bellows wheezing. "You are to be dissected, but perhaps yours is a kinder fate than what awaits the others of your planet. The gas used for extermination is painless, but I bear witness to the process, emotions run rampant. It involves much screaming, wailing, and running about.""You are going to kill us ... all of us?""Exterminate your kind, yes, unless this testing and dissection reveal something special.""Why? Why kill us all? What did we do to you?""Do to us?" Wheezing bellows again. "No, you misunderstand, this is not personal. We need your planet, nothing more. It is expensive to change a planet to meet our needs. It is easier to select one that is already suitable. Granted there are always environmental problems to be corrected. You have made quite a mess of yours, but if you weren’t destroying your environment your world would have never made our list."So you will ... what ... exterminate us, like we are bugs ... like something you can squash beneath your boot?""Correct.""What gives you the right to do that?""We are superior in every way, superior mentally, superior physically, and superior morally and ethically.""Morally? Ethically? How can you say that? You are about to eliminate a complete species. Are you so racist that you can't see that we have rights? We should be allowed to exist and develop in the same way you did.""Why?"“Because we believe in equal rights, if you are so morally superior you must possess laws regarding correct behavior. We follow a Human Bill of Rights which guarantees equality for all.”“As do we, but you are not allowed its protection. If you treated others as your Bill of Rights dictates, evaluation of your race may have been different. If you lived by your own laws you could have survived. Unfortunately your species doesn’t follow its own rules or even common sense where the environment is concerned. Now, hold still. This is going to hurt.”End© Dave Skinner, November 2015
September 26, 2015
1Helper TN
November is National Novel Writing Month. This story is for all those who enter the NaNoWriMo challange. I imagine they are already making plans.
1Helper TN“You’re doing what?” Carman’s tone chased away any hope of continuing their snuggling. Daniel sacrificed his on-top position and flopped over onto the bed.“I’m using 1Helper to do the National Novel Writing Month challenge this year. We start at the stroke of midnight tonight. I won’t see you or anyone else for the whole month. You’re starting NaNoWriMo aren’t you?”“Yes, I always begin on the first minute of November, but I don’t bury myself away for the complete month. You shouldn’t do that. You must stay healthy, eat . . . drink. Drinking is important. I’ve heard of people who passed out from not getting enough liquid. You can’t just shut everything and everybody off.”“Yes I can, that is exactly what I am doing. 1Helper takes care of every physical and social need. They keep someone with you 24/7. I work on my novel, nothing else.”“You can write 50,000 words without going to that extreme, you know.”“But could you do 150,000?”“That’s impossible.”“I believe I can do five thousand words a day, and I’m willing to pay 1Helper their fee to help me accomplish it.”“You’re going for the word-count prize, aren’t you?”“Right you are. I’m going to win that 50,000 dollars.”“Well don’t think it will impress anyone from our group. They believe the true NaNoWriMo was forever tainted when they allowed the prize money. They liken it to the whole controversy around the HUGOs.”Daniel rolled off the bed and started dressing. “I have to get back to my place before midnight, so I’m leaving.” He pounced onto the bed and gave Carman’s head an affectionate rubbing. Giggling she pushed him away. She liked him to act aggressive sometimes as long as she didn’t get hurt.“I’ll call you about the Over party.”“If I’m still interested after a month of being allalone,” she called as he eased open the door. “And you sound like a 1Helper commercial.”The helper person was waiting on the stairs to his apartment. Daniel helped by carrying the second case. Helper, setup the equipment while Daniel changed into the appropriate gown. Daniel finished his task first.“Is there anything I can do?”“No, unless you want to put in your own IV line, some people do, you know.”“No thanks. I can wait.”“Don’t worry; we’ll be ready before midnight.”“So, I don’t have to explain what the parameters are and how important they are to me?”“Of course not, how could I manage to help if I didn’t understand everything about you, and your goal? That’s why you filled out numerous questionnaires before we accepted you as a client.”“Yah, they were a pain. I suppose I should be glad that someone read them besides my Lawyer and me. What do I call you . . . what’s your name, or do I refer to you as helper or something like that?”“My name is Ted Noman, and we are ready as soon as you sign the final approval contract.”“Another contact, it better not be as long as the first one. It’s five to twelve by my watch.”“This is one page. It gives you the opportunity to back out.”“I’m not backing out. Where is it?”Ted pulled a piece of paper from his briefcase, righted it, and set it on the table. Daniel read it over quickly before he scrawled his signature.Ted’s smile was bright enough to light the room when Daniel handed him the signed sheet. “Let’s get started.”Daniel sat. Ted inserted an IV catheter into Daniel’s arm and connected the first drip bag. He set the field generators around the desk chair—one to each side, plugged into the black box, and connected the generators—a process similar to hooking up speakers.He smiled while checking his watch. “Eleven fifty-nine, Daniel, see you in a month,” he said as he switched on the box.* * *Daniel’s next awareness was pain. It pulsed behind his eyes and tried to escape through his forehead. It might have been dribbling out his ears.“Just keep your eyes closed, and lean on my arm,” someone said. “Congratulations, you finished.”Daniels eyes flew open. Pain flooded his head, but he had to read the screen. “How many words . . . how much did I write?”He squinted at the lower left corner of the screen. 150,268 words it said. He could also read the last line of text. The End, it read.“I finished it.”“As I said, now let us get you into bed. Remember, your muscles will hurt for a few days until you get use to moving around again. We will remove our equipment and make sure your place is clean and tidy. All evidence of 1Helper will be gone by the time you wake up. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”* * *Daniel flopped into the same armchair he had used on his previous three visits. “Do I have a case?” He asked his lawyer. “Can I sue?”“You do not have grounds to sue.” Daniel jumped up from the chair, but the lawyer held out a straight arm. “Hear me out, please. The contracts you signed gave them the right to act as your agent in all financial and social dealings. They supplied every service you contracted for and paid for. Under business law they did nothing wrong.”“You and I went over those contracts. There wasn’t any mention of them being able to buy big ticket items. They bought a boat! They bought cars, and motorcycles, and plasma big-screens! My credit . . . my life . . . my winnings . . . everything is gone, and you tell me there is nothing I can do.”“You have no recourse within the law, Daniel. I wish I had better news, but I don’t.”“I read that final sheet. I saw nothing about this crap.”“Exactly, it was in the fine print.”“What fine print?”The lawyer handed a piece of paper to Daniel. It was the sheet in question.“I still don’t see wording that would allow for what they did.”“Look at the final line at the bottom of the page, the one in the tiny font.”Daniel squinted. The text came into focus. Particulars of this addendum visible under UV light, it said.The lawyer held out a UV lamp. “Want to read the particulars of what you signed?”Daniel shook his down-turned head. “But he did criminal things. He sold useless stocks to my friends, he . . . he . . . he ripped them off, and I think he raped my girlfriend and beat her up.”“If you persuaded the young woman to press charges, you will have some type of case, otherwise—.”“That is not going to happen. She won’t even answer my calls.”“Then communicate with her through your mutual friends. Get someone to tell her how badly you feel.”“What makes you think I have any friends left? They all hate me. Everyone hates me; even people I don’t know, hate me.” Daniel dropped the paper onto the desk. “Damn it, there has to be something. They’re a registered business. There has—.”“Actually they aren’t registered or anything,” his lawyer said.“But I remember a trademark symbol after the name.” Daniel pulled his wallet from his pocket and found the business card. “Look.”The lawyer turned to a magnifier on the credenza behind his desk. “It isn’t the trademark symbol,” he said after a few moments. “It actually says TN not TM. TN doesn’t have any significates under the law, so I would guess someone’s initials, maybe Tim, or Tom —““Ted.” Daniel’s head fell forward again. “He said his name was Ted Noman.”© Dave Skinner 2015
1Helper TN“You’re doing what?” Carman’s tone chased away any hope of continuing their snuggling. Daniel sacrificed his on-top position and flopped over onto the bed.“I’m using 1Helper to do the National Novel Writing Month challenge this year. We start at the stroke of midnight tonight. I won’t see you or anyone else for the whole month. You’re starting NaNoWriMo aren’t you?”“Yes, I always begin on the first minute of November, but I don’t bury myself away for the complete month. You shouldn’t do that. You must stay healthy, eat . . . drink. Drinking is important. I’ve heard of people who passed out from not getting enough liquid. You can’t just shut everything and everybody off.”“Yes I can, that is exactly what I am doing. 1Helper takes care of every physical and social need. They keep someone with you 24/7. I work on my novel, nothing else.”“You can write 50,000 words without going to that extreme, you know.”“But could you do 150,000?”“That’s impossible.”“I believe I can do five thousand words a day, and I’m willing to pay 1Helper their fee to help me accomplish it.”“You’re going for the word-count prize, aren’t you?”“Right you are. I’m going to win that 50,000 dollars.”“Well don’t think it will impress anyone from our group. They believe the true NaNoWriMo was forever tainted when they allowed the prize money. They liken it to the whole controversy around the HUGOs.”Daniel rolled off the bed and started dressing. “I have to get back to my place before midnight, so I’m leaving.” He pounced onto the bed and gave Carman’s head an affectionate rubbing. Giggling she pushed him away. She liked him to act aggressive sometimes as long as she didn’t get hurt.“I’ll call you about the Over party.”“If I’m still interested after a month of being allalone,” she called as he eased open the door. “And you sound like a 1Helper commercial.”The helper person was waiting on the stairs to his apartment. Daniel helped by carrying the second case. Helper, setup the equipment while Daniel changed into the appropriate gown. Daniel finished his task first.“Is there anything I can do?”“No, unless you want to put in your own IV line, some people do, you know.”“No thanks. I can wait.”“Don’t worry; we’ll be ready before midnight.”“So, I don’t have to explain what the parameters are and how important they are to me?”“Of course not, how could I manage to help if I didn’t understand everything about you, and your goal? That’s why you filled out numerous questionnaires before we accepted you as a client.”“Yah, they were a pain. I suppose I should be glad that someone read them besides my Lawyer and me. What do I call you . . . what’s your name, or do I refer to you as helper or something like that?”“My name is Ted Noman, and we are ready as soon as you sign the final approval contract.”“Another contact, it better not be as long as the first one. It’s five to twelve by my watch.”“This is one page. It gives you the opportunity to back out.”“I’m not backing out. Where is it?”Ted pulled a piece of paper from his briefcase, righted it, and set it on the table. Daniel read it over quickly before he scrawled his signature.Ted’s smile was bright enough to light the room when Daniel handed him the signed sheet. “Let’s get started.”Daniel sat. Ted inserted an IV catheter into Daniel’s arm and connected the first drip bag. He set the field generators around the desk chair—one to each side, plugged into the black box, and connected the generators—a process similar to hooking up speakers.He smiled while checking his watch. “Eleven fifty-nine, Daniel, see you in a month,” he said as he switched on the box.* * *Daniel’s next awareness was pain. It pulsed behind his eyes and tried to escape through his forehead. It might have been dribbling out his ears.“Just keep your eyes closed, and lean on my arm,” someone said. “Congratulations, you finished.”Daniels eyes flew open. Pain flooded his head, but he had to read the screen. “How many words . . . how much did I write?”He squinted at the lower left corner of the screen. 150,268 words it said. He could also read the last line of text. The End, it read.“I finished it.”“As I said, now let us get you into bed. Remember, your muscles will hurt for a few days until you get use to moving around again. We will remove our equipment and make sure your place is clean and tidy. All evidence of 1Helper will be gone by the time you wake up. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”* * *Daniel flopped into the same armchair he had used on his previous three visits. “Do I have a case?” He asked his lawyer. “Can I sue?”“You do not have grounds to sue.” Daniel jumped up from the chair, but the lawyer held out a straight arm. “Hear me out, please. The contracts you signed gave them the right to act as your agent in all financial and social dealings. They supplied every service you contracted for and paid for. Under business law they did nothing wrong.”“You and I went over those contracts. There wasn’t any mention of them being able to buy big ticket items. They bought a boat! They bought cars, and motorcycles, and plasma big-screens! My credit . . . my life . . . my winnings . . . everything is gone, and you tell me there is nothing I can do.”“You have no recourse within the law, Daniel. I wish I had better news, but I don’t.”“I read that final sheet. I saw nothing about this crap.”“Exactly, it was in the fine print.”“What fine print?”The lawyer handed a piece of paper to Daniel. It was the sheet in question.“I still don’t see wording that would allow for what they did.”“Look at the final line at the bottom of the page, the one in the tiny font.”Daniel squinted. The text came into focus. Particulars of this addendum visible under UV light, it said.The lawyer held out a UV lamp. “Want to read the particulars of what you signed?”Daniel shook his down-turned head. “But he did criminal things. He sold useless stocks to my friends, he . . . he . . . he ripped them off, and I think he raped my girlfriend and beat her up.”“If you persuaded the young woman to press charges, you will have some type of case, otherwise—.”“That is not going to happen. She won’t even answer my calls.”“Then communicate with her through your mutual friends. Get someone to tell her how badly you feel.”“What makes you think I have any friends left? They all hate me. Everyone hates me; even people I don’t know, hate me.” Daniel dropped the paper onto the desk. “Damn it, there has to be something. They’re a registered business. There has—.”“Actually they aren’t registered or anything,” his lawyer said.“But I remember a trademark symbol after the name.” Daniel pulled his wallet from his pocket and found the business card. “Look.”The lawyer turned to a magnifier on the credenza behind his desk. “It isn’t the trademark symbol,” he said after a few moments. “It actually says TN not TM. TN doesn’t have any significates under the law, so I would guess someone’s initials, maybe Tim, or Tom —““Ted.” Daniel’s head fell forward again. “He said his name was Ted Noman.”© Dave Skinner 2015
September 20, 2015
Meeting Isabel
My grandmother story.
“Sure gramma, love to hear it,” I said. Hell, how much of my time would it take to listen to her story? Not much I hoped, but I owed her something. She had given me the thirty-two cents for a pack of smokes last week. I waited while she combed through the unspun wool of memory, searching for a strand from her youth.“It was May Day the first time I saw your grandfather. We had set up a few tables under the big tent where we sold libations from our pub.”“Wait. What do you mean by, our pub?”“My mother owned a pub. Well, I called her mother, but in truth she was my aunt. My mother being too young to raise me, or that is what her parents told her. I was born out of wedlock. My aunt raised me.”Wow! Gramma was illegitimate. Who knew?“Your grandfather was a Cavalry officer. Oh, what an entrance he made that first day when he and a few chums galloped into the tent on their chargers. Dirt splattered, horses reared and danced. My mother swore. I laughed.“They all looked splendid; the horses decked out in full regalia, men in bright uniforms, red capes flying, scabbards flashing, their high boots polished to reflection, but he was the one I noticed, and to my surprise he noticed me. Love at first fright.”My mouth was hanging open now, the scene flashing on my mind like a movie, the pageantry, the action, as the eyes of the young barmaid meeting those of the rich man’s son. He was hooked. I was captivated.Later, when the stories stopped, my grandmother had become Isabel, my day lost to the story of her life. Across the screen of my mind she had travelled from an unwanted birth, through rejection and poverty to the love of her life, through the births of child after child, births that made them happy, but kept my grandfather from the Great War, and the shame he experienced because of it, while he stood his guard post outside the King’s bedroom. The big house followed, the good years with horse drawn carriages and servants at hand. I saw her scramble to shelter as buzz bombs fell. Then immigration to Canada, the heart break of the unknown disease that claimed her man, and a fortune stolen by the depression. She became someone else, something more, and so did I.“Thank you gramma.”
End
“Sure gramma, love to hear it,” I said. Hell, how much of my time would it take to listen to her story? Not much I hoped, but I owed her something. She had given me the thirty-two cents for a pack of smokes last week. I waited while she combed through the unspun wool of memory, searching for a strand from her youth.“It was May Day the first time I saw your grandfather. We had set up a few tables under the big tent where we sold libations from our pub.”“Wait. What do you mean by, our pub?”“My mother owned a pub. Well, I called her mother, but in truth she was my aunt. My mother being too young to raise me, or that is what her parents told her. I was born out of wedlock. My aunt raised me.”Wow! Gramma was illegitimate. Who knew?“Your grandfather was a Cavalry officer. Oh, what an entrance he made that first day when he and a few chums galloped into the tent on their chargers. Dirt splattered, horses reared and danced. My mother swore. I laughed.“They all looked splendid; the horses decked out in full regalia, men in bright uniforms, red capes flying, scabbards flashing, their high boots polished to reflection, but he was the one I noticed, and to my surprise he noticed me. Love at first fright.”My mouth was hanging open now, the scene flashing on my mind like a movie, the pageantry, the action, as the eyes of the young barmaid meeting those of the rich man’s son. He was hooked. I was captivated.Later, when the stories stopped, my grandmother had become Isabel, my day lost to the story of her life. Across the screen of my mind she had travelled from an unwanted birth, through rejection and poverty to the love of her life, through the births of child after child, births that made them happy, but kept my grandfather from the Great War, and the shame he experienced because of it, while he stood his guard post outside the King’s bedroom. The big house followed, the good years with horse drawn carriages and servants at hand. I saw her scramble to shelter as buzz bombs fell. Then immigration to Canada, the heart break of the unknown disease that claimed her man, and a fortune stolen by the depression. She became someone else, something more, and so did I.“Thank you gramma.”
End
September 1, 2015
The Hermit (573 words)
I should rename this flash fiction piece as Rejected because I can't even give it away.
The Hermit
A camping trip was not my idea of pleasure. I couldn’t wear a dress, and I was sure there would be bugs, but I had to go. I so much wanted to belong. That is important in fourth grade, and even more so when you are the new girl.April on Bear Mountain can be beautiful, and it can be cruel. I prayed for beauty. No one listened although at first it didn’t seem that way. Warm sunshine radiating from a clear sky, and the first buds of spring gave the illusion of peace and safety. My legs ached before we reached the campsite. No escalators here. Beside a meadow at the edge of the woods, looking clean, clear, and charming lay the camping area. Our tents popped up with ease, and we had time before dinner to explore as long as we followed the rules.“Buddy up, use your bear bells, stay in the meadow, and if you encounter the Hermit don’t bother him. Stay together, no exceptions,” our teacher instructed.“Who is the Hermit?” I asked Nancy.“He is a character who lives up here, an outcast, scary and weird, but don’t worry we won’t see him. Come-on, I know a place to pick berries.” she told me at the edge of the meadow.“But Mister Winslow said not to leave the meadow.”“We aren’t really.” She pointed along the forest track to a sunny area beyond. “You can see the other meadow over there. That’s where the berries are. They will be delicious this early in the year.”They were. The bear thought so too. We didn’t notice it until it reared up and slashed at Nancy. I’m surprised the others didn’t hear our screams. When we stopped running Nancy’s back streamed with blood, and we were lost. We called, we screamed, no one answered, then the weather turned.Sunshine changed to wet snow in the time it took the storm to darken the sky. Our light clothes soaked through in no time. A cold wind blew the snow everywhere, and I expected the bear to come stalking out of the swirling white. I was scared to move, scared of the bear, scared of the hermit, scared of the snow, but we had no choice. I supported Nancy as best I could while trying to ignore her blood soaking into my windbreaker. We staggered about until we found the cabin. Desperation made me approach.“Go away,” a voice growled when I knocked.“She’s hurt,” I shivered out.The waft of warm air from the open door beckoned me forward, but the man blocking the doorway stayed my advance. It was the Hermit I was sure. Most of his remaining teeth were rotten. A few sickly tufts of hair still sprouted from his head. He smelt — of lye soap and wood smoke.“She needs a doctor,” he said, taking down an old fur coat. The storm roared outside as he wrapped us in blankets. The snow was deep now. He carried Nancy, and then he carried us both. His breathing was more laboured each time he paused, and he paused more often as it grew colder and darker. It had been night for ages before we saw the spinning lights of the police cruiser. He handed us off, but refused the offer of shelter.
My father looked for him after, to thank him, but he was never seen again.
The Hermit
A camping trip was not my idea of pleasure. I couldn’t wear a dress, and I was sure there would be bugs, but I had to go. I so much wanted to belong. That is important in fourth grade, and even more so when you are the new girl.April on Bear Mountain can be beautiful, and it can be cruel. I prayed for beauty. No one listened although at first it didn’t seem that way. Warm sunshine radiating from a clear sky, and the first buds of spring gave the illusion of peace and safety. My legs ached before we reached the campsite. No escalators here. Beside a meadow at the edge of the woods, looking clean, clear, and charming lay the camping area. Our tents popped up with ease, and we had time before dinner to explore as long as we followed the rules.“Buddy up, use your bear bells, stay in the meadow, and if you encounter the Hermit don’t bother him. Stay together, no exceptions,” our teacher instructed.“Who is the Hermit?” I asked Nancy.“He is a character who lives up here, an outcast, scary and weird, but don’t worry we won’t see him. Come-on, I know a place to pick berries.” she told me at the edge of the meadow.“But Mister Winslow said not to leave the meadow.”“We aren’t really.” She pointed along the forest track to a sunny area beyond. “You can see the other meadow over there. That’s where the berries are. They will be delicious this early in the year.”They were. The bear thought so too. We didn’t notice it until it reared up and slashed at Nancy. I’m surprised the others didn’t hear our screams. When we stopped running Nancy’s back streamed with blood, and we were lost. We called, we screamed, no one answered, then the weather turned.Sunshine changed to wet snow in the time it took the storm to darken the sky. Our light clothes soaked through in no time. A cold wind blew the snow everywhere, and I expected the bear to come stalking out of the swirling white. I was scared to move, scared of the bear, scared of the hermit, scared of the snow, but we had no choice. I supported Nancy as best I could while trying to ignore her blood soaking into my windbreaker. We staggered about until we found the cabin. Desperation made me approach.“Go away,” a voice growled when I knocked.“She’s hurt,” I shivered out.The waft of warm air from the open door beckoned me forward, but the man blocking the doorway stayed my advance. It was the Hermit I was sure. Most of his remaining teeth were rotten. A few sickly tufts of hair still sprouted from his head. He smelt — of lye soap and wood smoke.“She needs a doctor,” he said, taking down an old fur coat. The storm roared outside as he wrapped us in blankets. The snow was deep now. He carried Nancy, and then he carried us both. His breathing was more laboured each time he paused, and he paused more often as it grew colder and darker. It had been night for ages before we saw the spinning lights of the police cruiser. He handed us off, but refused the offer of shelter.
My father looked for him after, to thank him, but he was never seen again.
August 23, 2015
Windows 10 upgrade
I have upgraded two of my PCs to Windows 10 using the download/upgrade feature, and I am happy (and pleasently surprised) to say that it went well. The first upgrade itself was painless, and the second one even faster and also painless.
Today I noticed that the devices lost their Homegroup connection, but that could have been because the older PC that originated the Homegroup was no longer connected. I connected it and both of the Windows 10 PC joined fine.
I cannot express how pleased I am with this upgrade process and the performance of 10 so far. It is 10 times better than my experience with Android Version 5 on my older Google Nexus 7. I have registered for the Windows 10 upgrade on my oldest PC, a Dell Inspiron 1545 which is old enough to have come with Vista installed. I will add a note here if it goes badly.
Today I noticed that the devices lost their Homegroup connection, but that could have been because the older PC that originated the Homegroup was no longer connected. I connected it and both of the Windows 10 PC joined fine.
I cannot express how pleased I am with this upgrade process and the performance of 10 so far. It is 10 times better than my experience with Android Version 5 on my older Google Nexus 7. I have registered for the Windows 10 upgrade on my oldest PC, a Dell Inspiron 1545 which is old enough to have come with Vista installed. I will add a note here if it goes badly.
