L.E. Doggett's Blog, page 18
July 16, 2016
Two general fiction short tales
I have been posting a lot of short stories lately but soon a post about my new book. Enjoy these stories and remember I don't mind comments and even a real criticism or two.
Again I post two flash stories from those 600 word tales I mentioned last week. So far these two are the shortest of the revised stories in that both are both under 900 words. This time there are both general fiction, even if the beginning of the first one might make people think horror. They are two completely different stories other than not being SF, fantasy, Urban Fantasy, steampunk etc, and being very short.
Story One:
Mind Blob
I sat in the small chair they allowed me, next to my bed. No padding under my rear, on the arms or back, any occupant could chew on. He wouldn’t do that, just the thought dry stuffing filled with sweat and grim made his mouth go dry. However he had heard that some in here have done. I was dressed even though a bit warm in here. Voices and steps outside in the hallway drew my attention, but it wasn’t time yet. Then I will out of this room with its light blue and pink wallpaper.
That dream came again last night. I wish I knew where my subconscious came up with the idea: a dark blob, with uneven sides, with thicker sections here and there, and some missing spaces. Almost like a solid fog at night. It’s taller than I am and wider than my bed is long. It’s not a nightmare because I’m not afraid since it just sits there double my reach away. I have had that dream almost every night for the last three months. At first I was scared; woke up sweating, even though the air is cool, with a half yell, but it doesn’t do anything. I just watch it. Its shape changes a bit in every dream, but as I can figure out that’s just my subconscious adding a dimension to it. I think I know what the blacker areas are but not the empty spots. Areas of my life not effected by it? That would be good. I had to fight my reaction to it for eight months but it looks like I have it at bay. If it touches me, I get confused and usually freeze without knowing what to do next, sometimes I set out to do something that doesn’t need doing.
A glance at the clock showed that I better get ready; my wife is coming, with our two kids, to pick me up and take me home. It will be nice to get away from the odors in here. They try to keep them down but vomit, piss and cleaning fluids are always in the background.
It’s been a rough eight months, especially on Tammy. I’m glad she is still there. My recovery would be rougher without her.
I hear other patients walking up and down the hallway outside. I never did that, but I can see why some would. I had breakfast already, which I won’t miss. I hope we can go out to dinner tonight to celebrate, but Judy probably will want to stay home and get used to us being together again. That would be fine, maybe I can talk her into ordering pizza delivery. The food here is enough and eatable, but it’s not all that good.
After a few minutes I again make sure my few things are really packed and ready. Finally Doctor Jim comes to the door and tells me my wife is here. I shake his hand, thank him for his help. He tells me I helped myself and that he just directed me.
He takes me out to the lounge. There they are. I couldn’t help myself, I rush to Judy and hug her. Her body feels so good in my arms, her hands on my back are even better because of what they mean. I saw her only last week, but this is different. I hug my two kids. My eight year old daughter isn’t too sure about me.
I say, “I’m sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to. It didn’t have anything to do with you: I have a problem.”
She said, “I know mommy explained that you have a black blob in your head that makes you see things differently and confuses your thinking. It’s not your fault that it decided to hurt you.”
I blink at that, first in surprise, second because of tears. I look up at Judy, mouth “Thank you.”
But at the same time I realize that was my dream. Maybe she had mentioned her explanation to me and I had forgotten it, but my subconscious hadn’t. Or maybe I had spoken of it at one point.
I stood, grabbed my small suitcase and we walk out to the car. Judy tensed, said, “You didn’t harm any of us, but you scared us. If you had harmed one of us, I wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded, “I understand and agree, if my blob ever made me hurt one of you, you should stay away. But now we know the signs of it moving my way and can deal with it before it touches me.”
She relaxed as if she hadn’t been sure of my response yet she still had to say it. She nodded, took my hand and, said, “Lets have pizza for dinner tonight at home.”
I smiled.
The end
Story Two
First Photograph
Deborah Chilled stared at the old, yellow Newspaper. It crinkled with age. This was one of the earlier editions of the Republican, now Fresno’s ex paper. It had been replaced by something else with a shorter name.
One could still make out the picture on the front page. She recalled the smell of the ink the day it came out-all of the papers in those days had that stink even two days after printing. This picture was the very first photograph to be ever printed in the Republican. It showed the Police Chief with a just caught bank robber. The Chief stood there in his blue uniform, you couldn’t tell the color in the picture, but she remembered the color and style, with a big smile. The robber had a frown. It was rumored that the Chief had had to threaten the guy with his billy club to make him stand there for as long as it took for the photographer to take the picture. However one couldn’t know when a rumor was true or not. In the picture you could make out the bank on one side of the Chief and a teller who happened to be standing in the door. She had known that teller.
However more important to her was who stood on the other side. Two people. The woman’s side had been cut out but you could see her face well enough. The man’s face could be made out too. He had a huge smile on his face and Deborah could recall the sparkle in his eyes even to this day. Her expression showed doubt, but not because of what he had just asked, as some friends and relatives thought when the paper came out. She wore a new blue dress that day-he had wanted her to wear on their wedding day but she insisted on the traditional white gown. He had saved five copies of the paper. They still had this one.
After he had popped the question Jason had rushed them to be near the camera because he had heard that the photograph was to be taken. He wanted his big question to be recorded and printed in the paper. She had said yes almost immediately but then wasn’t sure why they were in that spot or why Jason had her turn to the sun and wait.
Deborah sat down, at seventy years old she couldn’t stand as long as she used to, such as on that day waiting for the photographer to get ready and to take the picture. It had taken seconds after he had set up everything, placed the hood over his head and snapped the button.
She figured it out as soon as she had seen that blinding flash. It had been so bright and unexpected that the Chief let out a curse word and had to publicly apologize later. The robber almost got away while everyone was blinded and the black smoke curled around in the air.
She slipped a kerchief out of her sleeve and whipped her eyes. No one would think an old woman in black as being silly for tears on this day. After all today was one year after Jason’s death. They had been married a full fifty years. She liked to think that no couple had been in love with each other as much as they had been the whole time. She knew that wasn’t true. Other couples had just as much love for each other.
It was easy to recall some of their arguments but easier to remember the day he saved her life at the cost of some bad injuries to himself, five years into their marriage. He never regretted the pain, or the fact that he almost died. She had though. Jason was not perfect, she knew that by experience, they had some bad fights the first couple of years but then they got used to each and the fights dropped dramtically. They didn’t disappeared though. And he could be stubborn at the most odd times. To the day he died he thought a woman’s place was in the home. They had some major disagreements over that. At the same time he hadn’t complained too loudly when she insisted in taking a couple of classes and too learn how to do new things. Now that she was so old she didn’t know if those classes would help her now. After all her fingers ached and she couldn’t bend over as well as she used to, nor move as quick. At the same time she was healthy and her mind still clear. Which meant that she would have to live without him from now on.
She sighed. There were things she could do and she had some money—he had made sure about that—so she could work for charities or the church. She nodded, she would keep living as long as the Good Lord had her down here.
The end
Hope you enjoyed them
Again I post two flash stories from those 600 word tales I mentioned last week. So far these two are the shortest of the revised stories in that both are both under 900 words. This time there are both general fiction, even if the beginning of the first one might make people think horror. They are two completely different stories other than not being SF, fantasy, Urban Fantasy, steampunk etc, and being very short.
Story One:
Mind Blob
I sat in the small chair they allowed me, next to my bed. No padding under my rear, on the arms or back, any occupant could chew on. He wouldn’t do that, just the thought dry stuffing filled with sweat and grim made his mouth go dry. However he had heard that some in here have done. I was dressed even though a bit warm in here. Voices and steps outside in the hallway drew my attention, but it wasn’t time yet. Then I will out of this room with its light blue and pink wallpaper.
That dream came again last night. I wish I knew where my subconscious came up with the idea: a dark blob, with uneven sides, with thicker sections here and there, and some missing spaces. Almost like a solid fog at night. It’s taller than I am and wider than my bed is long. It’s not a nightmare because I’m not afraid since it just sits there double my reach away. I have had that dream almost every night for the last three months. At first I was scared; woke up sweating, even though the air is cool, with a half yell, but it doesn’t do anything. I just watch it. Its shape changes a bit in every dream, but as I can figure out that’s just my subconscious adding a dimension to it. I think I know what the blacker areas are but not the empty spots. Areas of my life not effected by it? That would be good. I had to fight my reaction to it for eight months but it looks like I have it at bay. If it touches me, I get confused and usually freeze without knowing what to do next, sometimes I set out to do something that doesn’t need doing.
A glance at the clock showed that I better get ready; my wife is coming, with our two kids, to pick me up and take me home. It will be nice to get away from the odors in here. They try to keep them down but vomit, piss and cleaning fluids are always in the background.
It’s been a rough eight months, especially on Tammy. I’m glad she is still there. My recovery would be rougher without her.
I hear other patients walking up and down the hallway outside. I never did that, but I can see why some would. I had breakfast already, which I won’t miss. I hope we can go out to dinner tonight to celebrate, but Judy probably will want to stay home and get used to us being together again. That would be fine, maybe I can talk her into ordering pizza delivery. The food here is enough and eatable, but it’s not all that good.
After a few minutes I again make sure my few things are really packed and ready. Finally Doctor Jim comes to the door and tells me my wife is here. I shake his hand, thank him for his help. He tells me I helped myself and that he just directed me.
He takes me out to the lounge. There they are. I couldn’t help myself, I rush to Judy and hug her. Her body feels so good in my arms, her hands on my back are even better because of what they mean. I saw her only last week, but this is different. I hug my two kids. My eight year old daughter isn’t too sure about me.
I say, “I’m sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to. It didn’t have anything to do with you: I have a problem.”
She said, “I know mommy explained that you have a black blob in your head that makes you see things differently and confuses your thinking. It’s not your fault that it decided to hurt you.”
I blink at that, first in surprise, second because of tears. I look up at Judy, mouth “Thank you.”
But at the same time I realize that was my dream. Maybe she had mentioned her explanation to me and I had forgotten it, but my subconscious hadn’t. Or maybe I had spoken of it at one point.
I stood, grabbed my small suitcase and we walk out to the car. Judy tensed, said, “You didn’t harm any of us, but you scared us. If you had harmed one of us, I wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded, “I understand and agree, if my blob ever made me hurt one of you, you should stay away. But now we know the signs of it moving my way and can deal with it before it touches me.”
She relaxed as if she hadn’t been sure of my response yet she still had to say it. She nodded, took my hand and, said, “Lets have pizza for dinner tonight at home.”
I smiled.
The end
Story Two
First Photograph
Deborah Chilled stared at the old, yellow Newspaper. It crinkled with age. This was one of the earlier editions of the Republican, now Fresno’s ex paper. It had been replaced by something else with a shorter name.
One could still make out the picture on the front page. She recalled the smell of the ink the day it came out-all of the papers in those days had that stink even two days after printing. This picture was the very first photograph to be ever printed in the Republican. It showed the Police Chief with a just caught bank robber. The Chief stood there in his blue uniform, you couldn’t tell the color in the picture, but she remembered the color and style, with a big smile. The robber had a frown. It was rumored that the Chief had had to threaten the guy with his billy club to make him stand there for as long as it took for the photographer to take the picture. However one couldn’t know when a rumor was true or not. In the picture you could make out the bank on one side of the Chief and a teller who happened to be standing in the door. She had known that teller.
However more important to her was who stood on the other side. Two people. The woman’s side had been cut out but you could see her face well enough. The man’s face could be made out too. He had a huge smile on his face and Deborah could recall the sparkle in his eyes even to this day. Her expression showed doubt, but not because of what he had just asked, as some friends and relatives thought when the paper came out. She wore a new blue dress that day-he had wanted her to wear on their wedding day but she insisted on the traditional white gown. He had saved five copies of the paper. They still had this one.
After he had popped the question Jason had rushed them to be near the camera because he had heard that the photograph was to be taken. He wanted his big question to be recorded and printed in the paper. She had said yes almost immediately but then wasn’t sure why they were in that spot or why Jason had her turn to the sun and wait.
Deborah sat down, at seventy years old she couldn’t stand as long as she used to, such as on that day waiting for the photographer to get ready and to take the picture. It had taken seconds after he had set up everything, placed the hood over his head and snapped the button.
She figured it out as soon as she had seen that blinding flash. It had been so bright and unexpected that the Chief let out a curse word and had to publicly apologize later. The robber almost got away while everyone was blinded and the black smoke curled around in the air.
She slipped a kerchief out of her sleeve and whipped her eyes. No one would think an old woman in black as being silly for tears on this day. After all today was one year after Jason’s death. They had been married a full fifty years. She liked to think that no couple had been in love with each other as much as they had been the whole time. She knew that wasn’t true. Other couples had just as much love for each other.
It was easy to recall some of their arguments but easier to remember the day he saved her life at the cost of some bad injuries to himself, five years into their marriage. He never regretted the pain, or the fact that he almost died. She had though. Jason was not perfect, she knew that by experience, they had some bad fights the first couple of years but then they got used to each and the fights dropped dramtically. They didn’t disappeared though. And he could be stubborn at the most odd times. To the day he died he thought a woman’s place was in the home. They had some major disagreements over that. At the same time he hadn’t complained too loudly when she insisted in taking a couple of classes and too learn how to do new things. Now that she was so old she didn’t know if those classes would help her now. After all her fingers ached and she couldn’t bend over as well as she used to, nor move as quick. At the same time she was healthy and her mind still clear. Which meant that she would have to live without him from now on.
She sighed. There were things she could do and she had some money—he had made sure about that—so she could work for charities or the church. She nodded, she would keep living as long as the Good Lord had her down here.
The end
Hope you enjoyed them
July 9, 2016
Two new Flash
two #shortstories
And again I post two flash stories from those 600 word tales I mentioned last week. So far these two are the shortest of the revised stories in that both are both under 900 words. This time there are general fiction, even if the beginning of the first one might make people think horror. The are two completely different stories other than not being SF, fantasy, Urban Fantasy, steampunk etc.
Story One:
Mind Blob
I sat in the small chair they allowed me, next to my bed. No padding under my rear, on the arms or back, any occupant could chew on. He wouldn’t do that, just the thought dry stuffing filled with sweat and grim made his mouth go dry. However he had heard that some in here have done. I was dressed even though a bit warm in here. Voices and steps outside in the hallway drew my attention, but it wasn’t time yet. Then I will out of this room with its light blue and pink wallpaper.
That dream came again last night. I wish I knew where my subconscious came up with the idea: a dark blob, with uneven sides, with thicker sections here and there, and some missing spaces. Almost like a solid fog at night. It’s taller than I am and wider than my bed is long. It’s not a nightmare because I’m not afraid since it just sits there double my reach away. I have had that dream almost every night for the last three months. At first I was scared; woke up sweating, even though the air is cool, with a half yell, but it doesn’t do anything. I just watch it. Its shape changes a bit in every dream, but as I can figure out that’s just my subconscious adding a dimension to it. I think I know what the blacker areas are but not the empty spots. Areas of my life not effected by it? That would be good. I had to fight my reaction to it for eight months but it looks like I have it at bay. If it touches me, I get confused and usually freeze without knowing what to do next, sometimes I set out to do something that doesn’t need doing.
A glance at the clock showed that I better get ready; my wife is coming, with our two kids, to pick me up and take me home. It will be nice to get away from the odors in here. They try to keep them down but vomit, piss and cleaning fluids are always in the background.
It’s been a rough eight months, especially on Tammy. I’m glad she is still there. My recovery would be rougher without her.
I hear other patients walking up and down the hallway outside. I never did that, but I can see why some would. I had breakfast already, which I won’t miss. I hope we can go out to dinner tonight to celebrate, but Judy probably will want to stay home and get used to us being together again. That would be fine, maybe I can talk her into ordering pizza delivery. The food here is enough and eatable, but it’s not all that good.
After a few minutes I again make sure my few things are really packed and ready. Finally Doctor Jim comes to the door and tells me my wife is here. I shake his hand, thank him for his help. He tells me I helped myself and that he just directed me.
He takes me out to the lounge. There they are. I couldn’t help myself, I rush to Judy and hug her. Her body feels so good in my arms, her hands on my back are even better because of what they mean. I saw her only last week, but this is different. I hug my two kids. My eight year old daughter isn’t too sure about me.
I say, “I’m sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to. It didn’t have anything to do with you: I have a problem.”
She said, “I know mommy explained that you have a black blob in your head that makes you see things differently and confuses your thinking. It’s not your fault that it decided to hurt you.”
I blink at that, first in surprise, second because of tears. I look up at Judy, mouth “Thank you.”
But at the same time I realize that was my dream. Maybe she had mentioned her explanation to me and I had forgotten it, but my subconscious hadn’t. Or maybe I had spoken of it at one point.
I stood, grabbed my small suitcase and we walk out to the car. Judy tensed, said, “You didn’t harm any of us, but you scared us. If you had harmed one of us, I wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded, “I understand and agree, if my blob ever made me hurt one of you, you should stay away. But now we know the signs of it moving my way and can deal with it before it touches me.”
She relaxed as if she hadn’t been sure of my response yet she still had to say it. She nodded, took my hand and, said, “Lets have pizza for dinner tonight at home.”
I smiled.
The end
Story Two
First Photograph
Deborah Chilled stared at the old, yellow Newspaper. It crinkled with age. This was one of the earlier editions of the Republican, now Fresno’s ex paper. It had been replaced by something else with a shorter name.
One could still make out the picture on the front page. She recalled the smell of the ink the day it came out-all of the papers in those days had that stink even two days after printing. This picture was the very first photograph to be ever printed in the Republican. It showed the Police Chief with a just caught bank robber. The Chief stood there in his blue uniform, you couldn’t tell the color in the picture, but she remembered the color and style, with a big smile. The robber had a frown. It was rumored that the Chief had had to threaten the guy with his billy club to make him stand there for as long as it took for the photographer to take the picture. However one couldn’t know when a rumor was true or not. In the picture you could make out the bank on one side of the Chief and a teller who happened to be standing in the door. She had known that teller.
However more important to her was who stood on the other side. Two people. The woman’s side had been cut out but you could see her face well enough. The man’s face could be made out too. He had a huge smile on his face and Deborah could recall the sparkle in his eyes even to this day. Her expression showed doubt, but not because of what he had just asked, as some friends and relatives thought when the paper came out. She wore a new blue dress that day-he had wanted her to wear on their wedding day but she insisted on the traditional white gown. He had saved five copies of the paper. They still had this one.
After he had popped the question Jason had rushed them to be near the camera because he had heard that the photograph was to be taken. He wanted his big question to be recorded and printed in the paper. She had said yes almost immediately but then wasn’t sure why they were in that spot or why Jason had her turn to the sun and wait.
Deborah sat down, at seventy years old she couldn’t stand as long as she used to, such as on that day waiting for the photographer to get ready and to take the picture. It had taken seconds after he had set up everything, placed the hood over his head and snapped the button.
She figured it out as soon as she had seen that blinding flash. It had been so bright and unexpected that the Chief let out a curse word and had to publicly apologize later. The robber almost got away while everyone was blinded and the black smoke curled around in the air.
She slipped a kerchief out of her sleeve and whipped her eyes. No one would think an old woman in black as being silly for tears on this day. After all today was one year after Jason’s death. They had been married a full fifty years. She liked to think that no couple had been in love with each other as much as they had been the whole time. She knew that wasn’t true. Other couples had just as much love for each other.
It was easy to recall some of their arguments but easier to remember the day he saved her life at the cost of some bad injuries to himself, five years into their marriage. He never regretted the pain, or the fact that he almost died. She had though. Jason was not perfect, she knew that by experience, they had some bad fights the first couple of years but then they got used to each and the fights dropped dramtically. They didn’t disappeared though. And he could be stubborn at the most odd times. To the day he died he thought a woman’s place was in the home. They had some major disagreements over that. At the same time he hadn’t complained too loudly when she insisted in taking a couple of classes and too learn how to do new things. Now that she was so old she didn’t know if those classes would help her now. After all her fingers ached and she couldn’t bend over as well as she used to, nor move as quick. At the same time she was healthy and her mind still clear. Which meant that she would have to live without him from now on.
She sighed. There were things she could do and she had some money—he had made sure about that—so she could work for charities or the church. She nodded, she would keep living as long as the Good Lord had her down here.
The end
Hope you enjoyed them
And again I post two flash stories from those 600 word tales I mentioned last week. So far these two are the shortest of the revised stories in that both are both under 900 words. This time there are general fiction, even if the beginning of the first one might make people think horror. The are two completely different stories other than not being SF, fantasy, Urban Fantasy, steampunk etc.
Story One:
Mind Blob
I sat in the small chair they allowed me, next to my bed. No padding under my rear, on the arms or back, any occupant could chew on. He wouldn’t do that, just the thought dry stuffing filled with sweat and grim made his mouth go dry. However he had heard that some in here have done. I was dressed even though a bit warm in here. Voices and steps outside in the hallway drew my attention, but it wasn’t time yet. Then I will out of this room with its light blue and pink wallpaper.
That dream came again last night. I wish I knew where my subconscious came up with the idea: a dark blob, with uneven sides, with thicker sections here and there, and some missing spaces. Almost like a solid fog at night. It’s taller than I am and wider than my bed is long. It’s not a nightmare because I’m not afraid since it just sits there double my reach away. I have had that dream almost every night for the last three months. At first I was scared; woke up sweating, even though the air is cool, with a half yell, but it doesn’t do anything. I just watch it. Its shape changes a bit in every dream, but as I can figure out that’s just my subconscious adding a dimension to it. I think I know what the blacker areas are but not the empty spots. Areas of my life not effected by it? That would be good. I had to fight my reaction to it for eight months but it looks like I have it at bay. If it touches me, I get confused and usually freeze without knowing what to do next, sometimes I set out to do something that doesn’t need doing.
A glance at the clock showed that I better get ready; my wife is coming, with our two kids, to pick me up and take me home. It will be nice to get away from the odors in here. They try to keep them down but vomit, piss and cleaning fluids are always in the background.
It’s been a rough eight months, especially on Tammy. I’m glad she is still there. My recovery would be rougher without her.
I hear other patients walking up and down the hallway outside. I never did that, but I can see why some would. I had breakfast already, which I won’t miss. I hope we can go out to dinner tonight to celebrate, but Judy probably will want to stay home and get used to us being together again. That would be fine, maybe I can talk her into ordering pizza delivery. The food here is enough and eatable, but it’s not all that good.
After a few minutes I again make sure my few things are really packed and ready. Finally Doctor Jim comes to the door and tells me my wife is here. I shake his hand, thank him for his help. He tells me I helped myself and that he just directed me.
He takes me out to the lounge. There they are. I couldn’t help myself, I rush to Judy and hug her. Her body feels so good in my arms, her hands on my back are even better because of what they mean. I saw her only last week, but this is different. I hug my two kids. My eight year old daughter isn’t too sure about me.
I say, “I’m sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to. It didn’t have anything to do with you: I have a problem.”
She said, “I know mommy explained that you have a black blob in your head that makes you see things differently and confuses your thinking. It’s not your fault that it decided to hurt you.”
I blink at that, first in surprise, second because of tears. I look up at Judy, mouth “Thank you.”
But at the same time I realize that was my dream. Maybe she had mentioned her explanation to me and I had forgotten it, but my subconscious hadn’t. Or maybe I had spoken of it at one point.
I stood, grabbed my small suitcase and we walk out to the car. Judy tensed, said, “You didn’t harm any of us, but you scared us. If you had harmed one of us, I wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded, “I understand and agree, if my blob ever made me hurt one of you, you should stay away. But now we know the signs of it moving my way and can deal with it before it touches me.”
She relaxed as if she hadn’t been sure of my response yet she still had to say it. She nodded, took my hand and, said, “Lets have pizza for dinner tonight at home.”
I smiled.
The end
Story Two
First Photograph
Deborah Chilled stared at the old, yellow Newspaper. It crinkled with age. This was one of the earlier editions of the Republican, now Fresno’s ex paper. It had been replaced by something else with a shorter name.
One could still make out the picture on the front page. She recalled the smell of the ink the day it came out-all of the papers in those days had that stink even two days after printing. This picture was the very first photograph to be ever printed in the Republican. It showed the Police Chief with a just caught bank robber. The Chief stood there in his blue uniform, you couldn’t tell the color in the picture, but she remembered the color and style, with a big smile. The robber had a frown. It was rumored that the Chief had had to threaten the guy with his billy club to make him stand there for as long as it took for the photographer to take the picture. However one couldn’t know when a rumor was true or not. In the picture you could make out the bank on one side of the Chief and a teller who happened to be standing in the door. She had known that teller.
However more important to her was who stood on the other side. Two people. The woman’s side had been cut out but you could see her face well enough. The man’s face could be made out too. He had a huge smile on his face and Deborah could recall the sparkle in his eyes even to this day. Her expression showed doubt, but not because of what he had just asked, as some friends and relatives thought when the paper came out. She wore a new blue dress that day-he had wanted her to wear on their wedding day but she insisted on the traditional white gown. He had saved five copies of the paper. They still had this one.
After he had popped the question Jason had rushed them to be near the camera because he had heard that the photograph was to be taken. He wanted his big question to be recorded and printed in the paper. She had said yes almost immediately but then wasn’t sure why they were in that spot or why Jason had her turn to the sun and wait.
Deborah sat down, at seventy years old she couldn’t stand as long as she used to, such as on that day waiting for the photographer to get ready and to take the picture. It had taken seconds after he had set up everything, placed the hood over his head and snapped the button.
She figured it out as soon as she had seen that blinding flash. It had been so bright and unexpected that the Chief let out a curse word and had to publicly apologize later. The robber almost got away while everyone was blinded and the black smoke curled around in the air.
She slipped a kerchief out of her sleeve and whipped her eyes. No one would think an old woman in black as being silly for tears on this day. After all today was one year after Jason’s death. They had been married a full fifty years. She liked to think that no couple had been in love with each other as much as they had been the whole time. She knew that wasn’t true. Other couples had just as much love for each other.
It was easy to recall some of their arguments but easier to remember the day he saved her life at the cost of some bad injuries to himself, five years into their marriage. He never regretted the pain, or the fact that he almost died. She had though. Jason was not perfect, she knew that by experience, they had some bad fights the first couple of years but then they got used to each and the fights dropped dramtically. They didn’t disappeared though. And he could be stubborn at the most odd times. To the day he died he thought a woman’s place was in the home. They had some major disagreements over that. At the same time he hadn’t complained too loudly when she insisted in taking a couple of classes and too learn how to do new things. Now that she was so old she didn’t know if those classes would help her now. After all her fingers ached and she couldn’t bend over as well as she used to, nor move as quick. At the same time she was healthy and her mind still clear. Which meant that she would have to live without him from now on.
She sighed. There were things she could do and she had some money—he had made sure about that—so she could work for charities or the church. She nodded, she would keep living as long as the Good Lord had her down here.
The end
Hope you enjoyed them
Update on Learning Curve
Haven't updated my newest novel Learning CurveX2 for a while
I have the whole thing done. In this case that means corrected typos, grammar and other nitpicks, have a Author's page, Acknowledgements page, and Who is the author page. I just finished titling the chapters. Good thing I did that last because I found a disturbance in the time line. I had switched scenes around and missed one segment where what happened in one certain scene was discussed. Now that scene is three chapters after that sequence. Oops, had to delete and change what was discussed. Plus I saw that the opening to chapter ten was rather boring and probably amateurish. So redid it some to at least help give it a tiny bit of pizzazz.
So unless there is something I have forgotten I will be looking of a couple more prereviewers and deciding on a formatter. I don't want to go through that all again with smashwords. They are tough.
I have the whole thing done. In this case that means corrected typos, grammar and other nitpicks, have a Author's page, Acknowledgements page, and Who is the author page. I just finished titling the chapters. Good thing I did that last because I found a disturbance in the time line. I had switched scenes around and missed one segment where what happened in one certain scene was discussed. Now that scene is three chapters after that sequence. Oops, had to delete and change what was discussed. Plus I saw that the opening to chapter ten was rather boring and probably amateurish. So redid it some to at least help give it a tiny bit of pizzazz.
So unless there is something I have forgotten I will be looking of a couple more prereviewers and deciding on a formatter. I don't want to go through that all again with smashwords. They are tough.
July 4, 2016
Good 4th today
For those of us who live in the US.
Just wanted to say a few words about Founding of the US. In other words finally I am doing my own 4th of July greeting.
Each Fourth my local paper prints a copy of the Declaration. Today I was reading excerpts from it and got to the place where they listed their grievances with England. A wide assortment of real hurts and problems. But it hit me that many terrorists-not so much Radical Muslims who do their awful deeds for other reasons-use similar lists to justify terror. But our founders went another way. This was a Declaration of Independence not a declaration of terrorism. The first is the way to go not the second when you have grievances with another country. Yes, our Declaration led to violence-war. People got killed but it was straight up war not terrorism. And many bad things happened to the signers of our Declaration. Many were hung, some saw their children killed. One had to order the shelling of an ancestral home filled with memories and antiques. The British officer thought he wouldn’t give that order which is why the officer moved his men into it. The list of injuries and death for the signers goes on and I don’t have time to list each one. Which on a side note, and pardon the slip into today’s political debates, busts a few liberals’ desire to believe that the founders were greedy, selfish businessmen who just wanted to stop paying taxes.
So the whole thing was good. The Liberty and restrictions on government, including a list of our rights that are protected, that were on purpose included in the Constitution are all good. And has served us well.
Just wanted to say a few words about Founding of the US. In other words finally I am doing my own 4th of July greeting.
Each Fourth my local paper prints a copy of the Declaration. Today I was reading excerpts from it and got to the place where they listed their grievances with England. A wide assortment of real hurts and problems. But it hit me that many terrorists-not so much Radical Muslims who do their awful deeds for other reasons-use similar lists to justify terror. But our founders went another way. This was a Declaration of Independence not a declaration of terrorism. The first is the way to go not the second when you have grievances with another country. Yes, our Declaration led to violence-war. People got killed but it was straight up war not terrorism. And many bad things happened to the signers of our Declaration. Many were hung, some saw their children killed. One had to order the shelling of an ancestral home filled with memories and antiques. The British officer thought he wouldn’t give that order which is why the officer moved his men into it. The list of injuries and death for the signers goes on and I don’t have time to list each one. Which on a side note, and pardon the slip into today’s political debates, busts a few liberals’ desire to believe that the founders were greedy, selfish businessmen who just wanted to stop paying taxes.
So the whole thing was good. The Liberty and restrictions on government, including a list of our rights that are protected, that were on purpose included in the Constitution are all good. And has served us well.
July 3, 2016
So very close to being done
I finished correcting the edits. I typed out a "Author's Page", a "Who is L. E. Doggett", an "acknowledgements".
Have a cover
So now I need two things. To put those pages together and to get a couple of more Reviews before I publish it,
Free epub or Mobi file to anyone who does one for me.
I would like at least one published author-traditional or Indie so I can So Or So who wrote "This other Book" says this is an alright book.
If I can one who does like it.
Now if I can remember how to get to the couple of review groups here.
Have a cover
So now I need two things. To put those pages together and to get a couple of more Reviews before I publish it,
Free epub or Mobi file to anyone who does one for me.
I would like at least one published author-traditional or Indie so I can So Or So who wrote "This other Book" says this is an alright book.
If I can one who does like it.
Now if I can remember how to get to the couple of review groups here.
July 2, 2016
Two Urban Fantasy Flash tales by Me
So Happy Fourth of July for those in the US. A great country to celebrate .
Anyway, I am afraid I do n't have the story I promised for this week. Last week I said I would write one for today's post. But with a strong desire to get my novel ready to go along with losing chapter 8 I didn't get it started. It's barely started. So here are two stories I wrote a while back. I am doing a series of 600 word stories based on a picture which changes every week. At 22 stories I will do an anthology of them. Except they won't be 600 words any longer once I revise them. One of these two are over 1,000 now and the other is close behind. One of the other stories is now over 3,000 words. So I may call the book "Long 600 word tales". They are SF, fantasy, Romance, general fiction, Urban fantasy, steampunk and a couple of odd ones.
A few of you may have read one or both in their 600 word stories but they are slightly different now.
Anyway. These two have the same Main Character, an older dude I still haven't named. I will have to do that. I hope to do two more stories about him to include with the 22. Obviously I did revise them-today in fact-but I will do that again because they still need a wee bit of help.
So enjoy:
Number One
"A Bother"
I strode up to the man inside the little booth, ordered some of the roasted nuts he sold. He worked at a kiosk inside a large mall. I can’t help myself I always get some of that brand when I come here. He handed me the bag of mixed nuts with a receipt, I don’t like to go to. I nodded, turned around. People walked by, or through the doors of the stores. Their scents followed them if they got too close. Some weren’t bad: perfume, aftershaves , etc., but some smelled of cigarettes, sweat or drugs. I shook my head.
The lights and skylights produced enough visibility to get a good look at everyone. Since I was born fifty plus years ago I find it hard to get used to some of the outrageous and skimpy clothes some of them have on. A few of the girls are even worse. The new craze with tattoos was wild too.
With a sigh I backed off, I needed to get away from that cell phone kiosk, ten feet away. If something distracted me enough I would let enough cellular vibrational mystical energy out to blow each of those tiny computers. That was the second reason I hate going to the mall. Electricity and what some call V-nergy does not mix. Which is why I always drive an older car.
The first reason I have mentioned already. Those nuts can be expensive.
I needed to be here today though. There was a problem. I backed up intill my back hit the wall, hard and smooth at the same time, even though my light blue shirt. I now stood in a wall enclave where I could watch for it for that problem. The designer of this mall thought wall enclaves made the place look more attractive. I liked them because I could hide out in one for a few minutes. A tiny “don’t look in here” Trick, just on the opening, kept me from observation while I looked around. Someone determined could still find me but it wouldn’t be easy and most shoppers are distracted by other concerns. With age and experience I’ve learned to be skimpy with my store of V-nergy.
Two people, who walked too close to me, lost their cell connections and maybe their batteries; I sighed again. At least they didn’t flare up into a fire, this time. Another thing I needed to get used to with age. I hadn’t had to worry about personal electronics when my ability to manipulate those tiny vibrations that make up everything first showed itself.
Ten minutes later a sailor walked through the mall, I hadn’t seen him enter. Not all that unusual for a navy reserve base sat near here. It has been in continual use for generations. This fellow though wore the clothes of a sailor from the 1800s. They were muddy and wet in places. I nodded, it was him. My problem for the day. I could feel the bubble of something-not the usual cellular mystical energy-around him. I studied that bubble. I have a special sight, I can turn off and on, which allows me to see energy a normal person can’t see or sense. I titled my had back and forth to look at it from different angles. I could see lightning like arcs and a greenish tinged transparent field around him. Why Green? I don’t know, maybe God likes that color or it’s symbolic. Green for nature and this energy we use is produced by nature. Or maybe my subconscious is playing a game with me and green has some type of physiological symbology only my subconscious knows. Which makes it hard to guess what it means.
The person who called me had experimented with Time Travel Tricks. Which is very stupid. Not only was Time hard to adjust or manipulate, but it had a tendency to do strange things when you tried to manipulate it. Thomas said he only tried to set up a viewing window, so we could watch what happened in places and times we knew very little about. Something went wrong-I rolled my eyes-as it usually did. Another friend once spent five years repairing the damage done by someone attempting to go back in time to undo some event. We just didn’t understand-maybe we are incapable of understanding-how Time works. It had its own logic, power, and order. I thought if I twisted his Trick right it would send him back. It might hurt him with a backlash but not that badly.
I concentrated decided on a spot in that filed and sent the Trick and used my will to modify the matrix of the Trick. I let it go.
Ouch-that hurt me? Damn, it didn’t work right. Time does have its own rules. I tried to send in a web of lines to see if I could read the field deeper. The fingers of the web fell away. I drew it back in.
Why not? interrupted my own study of that when I spotted something in that bubble. My head tilted to one side as I thought. Somehow Thomas had produced a bubble of time energy-or maybe it produced itself when this guy came forward in time. A protection?
Or as I looked closer at one matrix, it did more. So what would happen if the bubble would burst? Another study-maybe it had meant to but Thomas’ interference stopped that. I reached into it with my energy, soften his Trick, pulled his energy to me than let the bubble pop. It did. The man disappeared, back to his own time I hoped. I turned to go thinking-hoping that Thomas and I had learned some wisdom from this. Or just an excuse to get the nuts.
The end
Number Two
"To relax or not"
I sighed. I had come to watch a football game; to relax, the scent from the pine trees growing around this small town and its small high school was suppose to help with that. Even the smoke from the fireplaces in each house, was natural. I was born over fifty years ago and I knew how to relax. For me a forest can help. This small community sat in the foothills of the Rockies. I liked it for as a user of the cellular vibrational mystical energy I didn’t have to hold it in as much here. There were very few modern convinces and those that were here were very well protected from that cellular vibrational mystical energy, You could see the larger mountains these hills led up to. I came here to visit an old friend who liked living here, with few outside people and neighbors with the same type of “condition” he had.
His son was playing in the high school game that had started over two hours ago. The sun was setting so the lights had just come on.The son was huge and wide, but he was one quarter Troll so it was expected. A nice guy though. That was why my friend lived in a small town in the hill country. Some of those here had their own particular physical characteristics. Like that tall fullback: his shape and slightly pointed ears for instantness. Some of the girls had long pointed noses. No one minded.
The game had just finished-we won, partial thanks to my friend’s son-late; the field lights had come on for the sun had all but disappeared over the mountains I mentioned. The cheerleaders and couches were all on the field waiting to come in. The gym, both teams used, was behind and was a large, grey brick building. They didn’t have money for anything fancy which is why they had just the field with lights, bleachers, football markings and goalposts. I didn’t mind that.
Smoke started to blow over the field. My head turned in the direction it had come from. There had been no fires around earlier but the grass and bush surrounding the school could burn very fast for it was dry from summer. The players and cheerleaders started to look confused. A couch or ref-it was getting hard to see-had turned to stop someone I couldn’t see.
From the exclamations of the parents and other fans, I knew I wasn’t the only one to experience the fading light. The lights on the posts didn’t do much to shine through the smoke.
I sneezed, grabbed my handkerchief. Oh oh, something I was allergic to. My nose dripped, my eyes watered. Only a couple of things would affect me that way. That is why I knew my time for relaxation had come to an abrupt end and thus my sigh.
A moment later I stood and hurried down the bleachers. They trembled under me and clanged with each step, as I stood at an angle, which meant I could only go so fast. Once off and on the grass, I ran down to the field, wiped my nose and upper lip again on the way. I hate it when my mustache gets filled with snot especially when I licked it-yecch. Now I needed to concentrate on my job. As a I hurried out on the field I ran to where the smoke came from. Players were complaining about the rotten egg odor. I could barely smell it now because of my closed nose but that was probably a blessing. The players, couches and cheerleaders were all confused about which direction to go. The visibility was very low down here. The smoke blocked the light like a very thick gauzy burlap bag lay everywhere. I drew in the energy I needed and sent a blast toward the goalposts that now looked reddish. My Trick rebounded; I tripped and almost went down in pain caused by the backlash of my Trick being demolished. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Even as I debated what to do more heat and smoke came through. I could feel the extreme heat from half a field from it. It had become thick enough to taste the ozone and rotten eggs.
I decided I needed help and to get the kids off the field. I ran back to where they were grouped. I shook the tall kid-hoped his eyesight came from his heritage-to get his attention. Everyone seemed gob smacked. He looked at me.
“Lead everyone to the bleachers” I pointed, “go now!”
He looked at the bleachers and I knew my guess had been right, he could see them. He yelled for everyone to follow him. I yelled encouragement for them to do it. That he could see where to go. I went to my friend’s son, led him to the right spot, told him he should run and hit that darkness with all he had, he would be a hero.
My surprise, he did. He hit the space between the goalposts three times. The first two didn’t do much but the last time he ran from further back. He had time to build speed. He smacked it hard enough to bounce. It flickered, I sent the Trick I had readied. Cracks appeared in the air, another smaller blast and it shattered. I used what V-nergy I had left and closed the pathway. That took effort and hurt for someone else had made the gateway. I knew what to do though so it closed. I panted and knew I would hurt in the morning but it had worked. The smoke would dissipate now. I would need to find who did it. I suspected it was one of those girls with the long noses. Someone practicing beyond what she knew, or trying of revenge, or maybe just to show off. The town elders would be able to find them and find a suitable punishment for the motivation. It could involve writing out in long hand, something like I will be more careful ten thousand times.
However, first, I needed a rest and the BBQ they said was after the game. I am getting old for this.
The end
Anyway, I am afraid I do n't have the story I promised for this week. Last week I said I would write one for today's post. But with a strong desire to get my novel ready to go along with losing chapter 8 I didn't get it started. It's barely started. So here are two stories I wrote a while back. I am doing a series of 600 word stories based on a picture which changes every week. At 22 stories I will do an anthology of them. Except they won't be 600 words any longer once I revise them. One of these two are over 1,000 now and the other is close behind. One of the other stories is now over 3,000 words. So I may call the book "Long 600 word tales". They are SF, fantasy, Romance, general fiction, Urban fantasy, steampunk and a couple of odd ones.
A few of you may have read one or both in their 600 word stories but they are slightly different now.
Anyway. These two have the same Main Character, an older dude I still haven't named. I will have to do that. I hope to do two more stories about him to include with the 22. Obviously I did revise them-today in fact-but I will do that again because they still need a wee bit of help.
So enjoy:
Number One
"A Bother"
I strode up to the man inside the little booth, ordered some of the roasted nuts he sold. He worked at a kiosk inside a large mall. I can’t help myself I always get some of that brand when I come here. He handed me the bag of mixed nuts with a receipt, I don’t like to go to. I nodded, turned around. People walked by, or through the doors of the stores. Their scents followed them if they got too close. Some weren’t bad: perfume, aftershaves , etc., but some smelled of cigarettes, sweat or drugs. I shook my head.
The lights and skylights produced enough visibility to get a good look at everyone. Since I was born fifty plus years ago I find it hard to get used to some of the outrageous and skimpy clothes some of them have on. A few of the girls are even worse. The new craze with tattoos was wild too.
With a sigh I backed off, I needed to get away from that cell phone kiosk, ten feet away. If something distracted me enough I would let enough cellular vibrational mystical energy out to blow each of those tiny computers. That was the second reason I hate going to the mall. Electricity and what some call V-nergy does not mix. Which is why I always drive an older car.
The first reason I have mentioned already. Those nuts can be expensive.
I needed to be here today though. There was a problem. I backed up intill my back hit the wall, hard and smooth at the same time, even though my light blue shirt. I now stood in a wall enclave where I could watch for it for that problem. The designer of this mall thought wall enclaves made the place look more attractive. I liked them because I could hide out in one for a few minutes. A tiny “don’t look in here” Trick, just on the opening, kept me from observation while I looked around. Someone determined could still find me but it wouldn’t be easy and most shoppers are distracted by other concerns. With age and experience I’ve learned to be skimpy with my store of V-nergy.
Two people, who walked too close to me, lost their cell connections and maybe their batteries; I sighed again. At least they didn’t flare up into a fire, this time. Another thing I needed to get used to with age. I hadn’t had to worry about personal electronics when my ability to manipulate those tiny vibrations that make up everything first showed itself.
Ten minutes later a sailor walked through the mall, I hadn’t seen him enter. Not all that unusual for a navy reserve base sat near here. It has been in continual use for generations. This fellow though wore the clothes of a sailor from the 1800s. They were muddy and wet in places. I nodded, it was him. My problem for the day. I could feel the bubble of something-not the usual cellular mystical energy-around him. I studied that bubble. I have a special sight, I can turn off and on, which allows me to see energy a normal person can’t see or sense. I titled my had back and forth to look at it from different angles. I could see lightning like arcs and a greenish tinged transparent field around him. Why Green? I don’t know, maybe God likes that color or it’s symbolic. Green for nature and this energy we use is produced by nature. Or maybe my subconscious is playing a game with me and green has some type of physiological symbology only my subconscious knows. Which makes it hard to guess what it means.
The person who called me had experimented with Time Travel Tricks. Which is very stupid. Not only was Time hard to adjust or manipulate, but it had a tendency to do strange things when you tried to manipulate it. Thomas said he only tried to set up a viewing window, so we could watch what happened in places and times we knew very little about. Something went wrong-I rolled my eyes-as it usually did. Another friend once spent five years repairing the damage done by someone attempting to go back in time to undo some event. We just didn’t understand-maybe we are incapable of understanding-how Time works. It had its own logic, power, and order. I thought if I twisted his Trick right it would send him back. It might hurt him with a backlash but not that badly.
I concentrated decided on a spot in that filed and sent the Trick and used my will to modify the matrix of the Trick. I let it go.
Ouch-that hurt me? Damn, it didn’t work right. Time does have its own rules. I tried to send in a web of lines to see if I could read the field deeper. The fingers of the web fell away. I drew it back in.
Why not? interrupted my own study of that when I spotted something in that bubble. My head tilted to one side as I thought. Somehow Thomas had produced a bubble of time energy-or maybe it produced itself when this guy came forward in time. A protection?
Or as I looked closer at one matrix, it did more. So what would happen if the bubble would burst? Another study-maybe it had meant to but Thomas’ interference stopped that. I reached into it with my energy, soften his Trick, pulled his energy to me than let the bubble pop. It did. The man disappeared, back to his own time I hoped. I turned to go thinking-hoping that Thomas and I had learned some wisdom from this. Or just an excuse to get the nuts.
The end
Number Two
"To relax or not"
I sighed. I had come to watch a football game; to relax, the scent from the pine trees growing around this small town and its small high school was suppose to help with that. Even the smoke from the fireplaces in each house, was natural. I was born over fifty years ago and I knew how to relax. For me a forest can help. This small community sat in the foothills of the Rockies. I liked it for as a user of the cellular vibrational mystical energy I didn’t have to hold it in as much here. There were very few modern convinces and those that were here were very well protected from that cellular vibrational mystical energy, You could see the larger mountains these hills led up to. I came here to visit an old friend who liked living here, with few outside people and neighbors with the same type of “condition” he had.
His son was playing in the high school game that had started over two hours ago. The sun was setting so the lights had just come on.The son was huge and wide, but he was one quarter Troll so it was expected. A nice guy though. That was why my friend lived in a small town in the hill country. Some of those here had their own particular physical characteristics. Like that tall fullback: his shape and slightly pointed ears for instantness. Some of the girls had long pointed noses. No one minded.
The game had just finished-we won, partial thanks to my friend’s son-late; the field lights had come on for the sun had all but disappeared over the mountains I mentioned. The cheerleaders and couches were all on the field waiting to come in. The gym, both teams used, was behind and was a large, grey brick building. They didn’t have money for anything fancy which is why they had just the field with lights, bleachers, football markings and goalposts. I didn’t mind that.
Smoke started to blow over the field. My head turned in the direction it had come from. There had been no fires around earlier but the grass and bush surrounding the school could burn very fast for it was dry from summer. The players and cheerleaders started to look confused. A couch or ref-it was getting hard to see-had turned to stop someone I couldn’t see.
From the exclamations of the parents and other fans, I knew I wasn’t the only one to experience the fading light. The lights on the posts didn’t do much to shine through the smoke.
I sneezed, grabbed my handkerchief. Oh oh, something I was allergic to. My nose dripped, my eyes watered. Only a couple of things would affect me that way. That is why I knew my time for relaxation had come to an abrupt end and thus my sigh.
A moment later I stood and hurried down the bleachers. They trembled under me and clanged with each step, as I stood at an angle, which meant I could only go so fast. Once off and on the grass, I ran down to the field, wiped my nose and upper lip again on the way. I hate it when my mustache gets filled with snot especially when I licked it-yecch. Now I needed to concentrate on my job. As a I hurried out on the field I ran to where the smoke came from. Players were complaining about the rotten egg odor. I could barely smell it now because of my closed nose but that was probably a blessing. The players, couches and cheerleaders were all confused about which direction to go. The visibility was very low down here. The smoke blocked the light like a very thick gauzy burlap bag lay everywhere. I drew in the energy I needed and sent a blast toward the goalposts that now looked reddish. My Trick rebounded; I tripped and almost went down in pain caused by the backlash of my Trick being demolished. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Even as I debated what to do more heat and smoke came through. I could feel the extreme heat from half a field from it. It had become thick enough to taste the ozone and rotten eggs.
I decided I needed help and to get the kids off the field. I ran back to where they were grouped. I shook the tall kid-hoped his eyesight came from his heritage-to get his attention. Everyone seemed gob smacked. He looked at me.
“Lead everyone to the bleachers” I pointed, “go now!”
He looked at the bleachers and I knew my guess had been right, he could see them. He yelled for everyone to follow him. I yelled encouragement for them to do it. That he could see where to go. I went to my friend’s son, led him to the right spot, told him he should run and hit that darkness with all he had, he would be a hero.
My surprise, he did. He hit the space between the goalposts three times. The first two didn’t do much but the last time he ran from further back. He had time to build speed. He smacked it hard enough to bounce. It flickered, I sent the Trick I had readied. Cracks appeared in the air, another smaller blast and it shattered. I used what V-nergy I had left and closed the pathway. That took effort and hurt for someone else had made the gateway. I knew what to do though so it closed. I panted and knew I would hurt in the morning but it had worked. The smoke would dissipate now. I would need to find who did it. I suspected it was one of those girls with the long noses. Someone practicing beyond what she knew, or trying of revenge, or maybe just to show off. The town elders would be able to find them and find a suitable punishment for the motivation. It could involve writing out in long hand, something like I will be more careful ten thousand times.
However, first, I needed a rest and the BBQ they said was after the game. I am getting old for this.
The end
Two stories by Me.
So Happy Fourth of July for those in the US. A great country to celebrate-problems of course and it has slipped but still over a good country .
Anyway, I am afraid I do n't have the story I promised for this week. Last week I said I would write one for today's post. But with a strong desire to get my novel ready to go along with losing chapter 8 I didn't get it started. It's barely started. So here are two stories I wrote a while back. I am doing a series of 600 word stories based on a picture which changes every week. At 22 stories I will do an anthology of them. Except they won't be 600 words any longer after I revise them. One of these two are over 1,000 now and the other is close behind. One of the other stories is now over 3,000 words. So I may call the book "Long 600 word tales". They are SF, fantasy, Romance, general fiction, Urban fantasy, steampunk and a couple of odd ones.
A few of you may have read one or both in their 600 word states but they are slightly different now.
Anyway. These two have the same Main Character, an older dude I still haven't named. I will have to do that. I hope to do two more stories about him to include with the 22. Obviously I did revise them-today in fact-but I will do that again because they still need a wee bit of help.
So enjoy:
Number One
"A Bother"
I strode up to the man inside the little booth, ordered some of the roasted nuts he sold. He worked at a kiosk inside a large mall. I can’t help myself I always get some of that brand when I come here. He handed me the bag of mixed nuts with a receipt, I don’t like to go to. I nodded, turned around. People walked by, or through the doors of the stores. Their scents followed them if they got too close. Some weren’t bad: perfume, aftershaves , etc., but some smelled of cigarettes, sweat or drugs. I shook my head.
The lights and skylights produced enough visibility to get a good look at everyone. Since I was born fifty plus years ago I find it hard to get used to some of the outrageous and skimpy clothes some of them have on. A few of the girls are even worse. The new craze with tattoos was wild too.
With a sigh I backed off, I needed to get away from that cell phone kiosk, ten feet away. If something distracted me enough I would let enough cellular vibrational mystical energy out to blow each of those tiny computers. That was the second reason I hate going to the mall. Electricity and what some call V-nergy does not mix. Which is why I always drive an older car.
The first reason I have mentioned already. Those nuts can be expensive.
I needed to be here today though. There was a problem. I backed up intill my back hit the wall, hard and smooth at the same time, even though my light blue shirt. I now stood in a wall enclave where I could watch for it for that problem. The designer of this mall thought wall enclaves made the place look more attractive. I liked them because I could hide out in one for a few minutes. A tiny “don’t look in here” Trick, just on the opening, kept me from observation while I looked around. Someone determined could still find me but it wouldn’t be easy and most shoppers are distracted by other concerns. With age and experience I’ve learned to be skimpy with my store of V-nergy.
Two people, who walked too close to me, lost their cell connections and maybe their batteries; I sighed again. At least they didn’t flare up into a fire, this time. Another thing I needed to get used to with age. I hadn’t had to worry about personal electronics when my ability to manipulate those tiny vibrations that make up everything first showed itself.
Ten minutes later a sailor walked through the mall, I hadn’t seen him enter. Not all that unusual for a navy reserve base sat near here. It has been in continual use for generations. This fellow though wore the clothes of a sailor from the 1800s. They were muddy and wet in places. I nodded, it was him. My problem for the day. I could feel the bubble of something-not the usual cellular mystical energy-around him. I studied that bubble. I have a special sight, I can turn off and on, which allows me to see energy a normal person can’t see or sense. I titled my had back and forth to look at it from different angles. I could see lightning like arcs and a greenish tinged transparent field around him. Why Green? I don’t know, maybe God likes that color or it’s symbolic. Green for nature and this energy we use is produced by nature. Or maybe my subconscious is playing a game with me and green has some type of physiological symbology only my subconscious knows. Which makes it hard to guess what it means.
The person who called me had experimented with Time Travel Tricks. Which is very stupid. Not only was Time hard to adjust or manipulate, but it had a tendency to do strange things when you tried to manipulate it. Thomas said he only tried to set up a viewing window, so we could watch what happened in places and times we knew very little about. Something went wrong-I rolled my eyes-as it usually did. Another friend once spent five years repairing the damage done by someone attempting to go back in time to undo some event. We just didn’t understand-maybe we are incapable of understanding-how Time works. It had its own logic, power, and order. I thought if I twisted his Trick right it would send him back. It might hurt him with a backlash but not that badly.
I concentrated decided on a spot in that filed and sent the Trick and used my will to modify the matrix of the Trick. I let it go.
Ouch-that hurt me? Damn, it didn’t work right. Time does have its own rules. I tried to send in a web of lines to see if I could read the field deeper. The fingers of the web fell away. I drew it back in.
Why not? interrupted my own study of that when I spotted something in that bubble. My head tilted to one side as I thought. Somehow Thomas had produced a bubble of time energy-or maybe it produced itself when this guy came forward in time. A protection?
Or as I looked closer at one matrix, it did more. So what would happen if the bubble would burst? Another study-maybe it had meant to but Thomas’ interference stopped that. I reached into it with my energy, soften his Trick, pulled his energy to me than let the bubble pop. It did. The man disappeared, back to his own time I hoped. I turned to go thinking-hoping that Thomas and I had learned some wisdom from this. Or just an excuse to get the nuts.
The end
Number Two
"To relax or not"
I sighed. I had come to watch a football game; to relax, the scent from the pine trees growing around this small town and its small high school was suppose to help with that. Even the smoke from the fireplaces in each house, was natural. I was born over fifty years ago and I knew how to relax. For me a forest can help. This small community sat in the foothills of the Rockies. I liked it for as a user of the cellular vibrational mystical energy I didn’t have to hold it in as much here. There were very few modern convinces and those that were here were very well protected from that cellular vibrational mystical energy, You could see the larger mountains these hills led up to. I came here to visit an old friend who liked living here, with few outside people and neighbors with the same type of “condition” he had.
His son was playing in the high school game that had started over two hours ago. The sun was setting so the lights had just come on.The son was huge and wide, but he was one quarter Troll so it was expected. A nice guy though. That was why my friend lived in a small town in the hill country. Some of those here had their own particular physical characteristics. Like that tall fullback: his shape and slightly pointed ears for instantness. Some of the girls had long pointed noses. No one minded.
The game had just finished-we won, partial thanks to my friend’s son-late; the field lights had come on for the sun had all but disappeared over the mountains I mentioned. The cheerleaders and couches were all on the field waiting to come in. The gym, both teams used, was behind and was a large, grey brick building. They didn’t have money for anything fancy which is why they had just the field with lights, bleachers, football markings and goalposts. I didn’t mind that.
Smoke started to blow over the field. My head turned in the direction it had come from. There had been no fires around earlier but the grass and bush surrounding the school could burn very fast for it was dry from summer. The players and cheerleaders started to look confused. A couch or ref-it was getting hard to see-had turned to stop someone I couldn’t see.
From the exclamations of the parents and other fans, I knew I wasn’t the only one to experience the fading light. The lights on the posts didn’t do much to shine through the smoke.
I sneezed, grabbed my handkerchief. Oh oh, something I was allergic to. My nose dripped, my eyes watered. Only a couple of things would affect me that way. That is why I knew my time for relaxation had come to an abrupt end and thus my sigh.
A moment later I stood and hurried down the bleachers. They trembled under me and clanged with each step, as I stood at an angle, which meant I could only go so fast. Once off and on the grass, I ran down to the field, wiped my nose and upper lip again on the way. I hate it when my mustache gets filled with snot especially when I licked it-yecch. Now I needed to concentrate on my job. As a I hurried out on the field I ran to where the smoke came from. Players were complaining about the rotten egg odor. I could barely smell it now because of my closed nose but that was probably a blessing. The players, couches and cheerleaders were all confused about which direction to go. The visibility was very low down here. The smoke blocked the light like a very thick gauzy burlap bag lay everywhere. I drew in the energy I needed and sent a blast toward the goalposts that now looked reddish. My Trick rebounded; I tripped and almost went down in pain caused by the backlash of my Trick being demolished. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Even as I debated what to do more heat and smoke came through. I could feel the extreme heat from half a field from it. It had become thick enough to taste the ozone and rotten eggs.
I decided I needed help and to get the kids off the field. I ran back to where they were grouped. I shook the tall kid-hoped his eyesight came from his heritage-to get his attention. Everyone seemed gob smacked. He looked at me.
“Lead everyone to the bleachers” I pointed, “go now!”
He looked at the bleachers and I knew my guess had been right, he could see them. He yelled for everyone to follow him. I yelled encouragement for them to do it. That he could see where to go. I went to my friend’s son, led him to the right spot, told him he should run and hit that darkness with all he had, he would be a hero.
My surprise, he did. He hit the space between the goalposts three times. The first two didn’t do much but the last time he ran from further back. He had time to build speed. He smacked it hard enough to bounce. It flickered, I sent the Trick I had readied. Cracks appeared in the air, another smaller blast and it shattered. I used what V-nergy I had left and closed the pathway. That took effort and hurt for someone else had made the gateway. I knew what to do though so it closed. I panted and knew I would hurt in the morning but it had worked. The smoke would dissipate now. I would need to find who did it. I suspected it was one of those girls with the long noses. Someone practicing beyond what she knew, or trying of revenge, or maybe just to show off. The town elders would be able to find them and find a suitable punishment for the motivation. It could involve writing out in long hand, something like I will be more careful ten thousand times.
However, first, I needed a rest and the BBQ they said was after the game. I am getting old for this.
The end
Anyway, I am afraid I do n't have the story I promised for this week. Last week I said I would write one for today's post. But with a strong desire to get my novel ready to go along with losing chapter 8 I didn't get it started. It's barely started. So here are two stories I wrote a while back. I am doing a series of 600 word stories based on a picture which changes every week. At 22 stories I will do an anthology of them. Except they won't be 600 words any longer after I revise them. One of these two are over 1,000 now and the other is close behind. One of the other stories is now over 3,000 words. So I may call the book "Long 600 word tales". They are SF, fantasy, Romance, general fiction, Urban fantasy, steampunk and a couple of odd ones.
A few of you may have read one or both in their 600 word states but they are slightly different now.
Anyway. These two have the same Main Character, an older dude I still haven't named. I will have to do that. I hope to do two more stories about him to include with the 22. Obviously I did revise them-today in fact-but I will do that again because they still need a wee bit of help.
So enjoy:
Number One
"A Bother"
I strode up to the man inside the little booth, ordered some of the roasted nuts he sold. He worked at a kiosk inside a large mall. I can’t help myself I always get some of that brand when I come here. He handed me the bag of mixed nuts with a receipt, I don’t like to go to. I nodded, turned around. People walked by, or through the doors of the stores. Their scents followed them if they got too close. Some weren’t bad: perfume, aftershaves , etc., but some smelled of cigarettes, sweat or drugs. I shook my head.
The lights and skylights produced enough visibility to get a good look at everyone. Since I was born fifty plus years ago I find it hard to get used to some of the outrageous and skimpy clothes some of them have on. A few of the girls are even worse. The new craze with tattoos was wild too.
With a sigh I backed off, I needed to get away from that cell phone kiosk, ten feet away. If something distracted me enough I would let enough cellular vibrational mystical energy out to blow each of those tiny computers. That was the second reason I hate going to the mall. Electricity and what some call V-nergy does not mix. Which is why I always drive an older car.
The first reason I have mentioned already. Those nuts can be expensive.
I needed to be here today though. There was a problem. I backed up intill my back hit the wall, hard and smooth at the same time, even though my light blue shirt. I now stood in a wall enclave where I could watch for it for that problem. The designer of this mall thought wall enclaves made the place look more attractive. I liked them because I could hide out in one for a few minutes. A tiny “don’t look in here” Trick, just on the opening, kept me from observation while I looked around. Someone determined could still find me but it wouldn’t be easy and most shoppers are distracted by other concerns. With age and experience I’ve learned to be skimpy with my store of V-nergy.
Two people, who walked too close to me, lost their cell connections and maybe their batteries; I sighed again. At least they didn’t flare up into a fire, this time. Another thing I needed to get used to with age. I hadn’t had to worry about personal electronics when my ability to manipulate those tiny vibrations that make up everything first showed itself.
Ten minutes later a sailor walked through the mall, I hadn’t seen him enter. Not all that unusual for a navy reserve base sat near here. It has been in continual use for generations. This fellow though wore the clothes of a sailor from the 1800s. They were muddy and wet in places. I nodded, it was him. My problem for the day. I could feel the bubble of something-not the usual cellular mystical energy-around him. I studied that bubble. I have a special sight, I can turn off and on, which allows me to see energy a normal person can’t see or sense. I titled my had back and forth to look at it from different angles. I could see lightning like arcs and a greenish tinged transparent field around him. Why Green? I don’t know, maybe God likes that color or it’s symbolic. Green for nature and this energy we use is produced by nature. Or maybe my subconscious is playing a game with me and green has some type of physiological symbology only my subconscious knows. Which makes it hard to guess what it means.
The person who called me had experimented with Time Travel Tricks. Which is very stupid. Not only was Time hard to adjust or manipulate, but it had a tendency to do strange things when you tried to manipulate it. Thomas said he only tried to set up a viewing window, so we could watch what happened in places and times we knew very little about. Something went wrong-I rolled my eyes-as it usually did. Another friend once spent five years repairing the damage done by someone attempting to go back in time to undo some event. We just didn’t understand-maybe we are incapable of understanding-how Time works. It had its own logic, power, and order. I thought if I twisted his Trick right it would send him back. It might hurt him with a backlash but not that badly.
I concentrated decided on a spot in that filed and sent the Trick and used my will to modify the matrix of the Trick. I let it go.
Ouch-that hurt me? Damn, it didn’t work right. Time does have its own rules. I tried to send in a web of lines to see if I could read the field deeper. The fingers of the web fell away. I drew it back in.
Why not? interrupted my own study of that when I spotted something in that bubble. My head tilted to one side as I thought. Somehow Thomas had produced a bubble of time energy-or maybe it produced itself when this guy came forward in time. A protection?
Or as I looked closer at one matrix, it did more. So what would happen if the bubble would burst? Another study-maybe it had meant to but Thomas’ interference stopped that. I reached into it with my energy, soften his Trick, pulled his energy to me than let the bubble pop. It did. The man disappeared, back to his own time I hoped. I turned to go thinking-hoping that Thomas and I had learned some wisdom from this. Or just an excuse to get the nuts.
The end
Number Two
"To relax or not"
I sighed. I had come to watch a football game; to relax, the scent from the pine trees growing around this small town and its small high school was suppose to help with that. Even the smoke from the fireplaces in each house, was natural. I was born over fifty years ago and I knew how to relax. For me a forest can help. This small community sat in the foothills of the Rockies. I liked it for as a user of the cellular vibrational mystical energy I didn’t have to hold it in as much here. There were very few modern convinces and those that were here were very well protected from that cellular vibrational mystical energy, You could see the larger mountains these hills led up to. I came here to visit an old friend who liked living here, with few outside people and neighbors with the same type of “condition” he had.
His son was playing in the high school game that had started over two hours ago. The sun was setting so the lights had just come on.The son was huge and wide, but he was one quarter Troll so it was expected. A nice guy though. That was why my friend lived in a small town in the hill country. Some of those here had their own particular physical characteristics. Like that tall fullback: his shape and slightly pointed ears for instantness. Some of the girls had long pointed noses. No one minded.
The game had just finished-we won, partial thanks to my friend’s son-late; the field lights had come on for the sun had all but disappeared over the mountains I mentioned. The cheerleaders and couches were all on the field waiting to come in. The gym, both teams used, was behind and was a large, grey brick building. They didn’t have money for anything fancy which is why they had just the field with lights, bleachers, football markings and goalposts. I didn’t mind that.
Smoke started to blow over the field. My head turned in the direction it had come from. There had been no fires around earlier but the grass and bush surrounding the school could burn very fast for it was dry from summer. The players and cheerleaders started to look confused. A couch or ref-it was getting hard to see-had turned to stop someone I couldn’t see.
From the exclamations of the parents and other fans, I knew I wasn’t the only one to experience the fading light. The lights on the posts didn’t do much to shine through the smoke.
I sneezed, grabbed my handkerchief. Oh oh, something I was allergic to. My nose dripped, my eyes watered. Only a couple of things would affect me that way. That is why I knew my time for relaxation had come to an abrupt end and thus my sigh.
A moment later I stood and hurried down the bleachers. They trembled under me and clanged with each step, as I stood at an angle, which meant I could only go so fast. Once off and on the grass, I ran down to the field, wiped my nose and upper lip again on the way. I hate it when my mustache gets filled with snot especially when I licked it-yecch. Now I needed to concentrate on my job. As a I hurried out on the field I ran to where the smoke came from. Players were complaining about the rotten egg odor. I could barely smell it now because of my closed nose but that was probably a blessing. The players, couches and cheerleaders were all confused about which direction to go. The visibility was very low down here. The smoke blocked the light like a very thick gauzy burlap bag lay everywhere. I drew in the energy I needed and sent a blast toward the goalposts that now looked reddish. My Trick rebounded; I tripped and almost went down in pain caused by the backlash of my Trick being demolished. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Even as I debated what to do more heat and smoke came through. I could feel the extreme heat from half a field from it. It had become thick enough to taste the ozone and rotten eggs.
I decided I needed help and to get the kids off the field. I ran back to where they were grouped. I shook the tall kid-hoped his eyesight came from his heritage-to get his attention. Everyone seemed gob smacked. He looked at me.
“Lead everyone to the bleachers” I pointed, “go now!”
He looked at the bleachers and I knew my guess had been right, he could see them. He yelled for everyone to follow him. I yelled encouragement for them to do it. That he could see where to go. I went to my friend’s son, led him to the right spot, told him he should run and hit that darkness with all he had, he would be a hero.
My surprise, he did. He hit the space between the goalposts three times. The first two didn’t do much but the last time he ran from further back. He had time to build speed. He smacked it hard enough to bounce. It flickered, I sent the Trick I had readied. Cracks appeared in the air, another smaller blast and it shattered. I used what V-nergy I had left and closed the pathway. That took effort and hurt for someone else had made the gateway. I knew what to do though so it closed. I panted and knew I would hurt in the morning but it had worked. The smoke would dissipate now. I would need to find who did it. I suspected it was one of those girls with the long noses. Someone practicing beyond what she knew, or trying of revenge, or maybe just to show off. The town elders would be able to find them and find a suitable punishment for the motivation. It could involve writing out in long hand, something like I will be more careful ten thousand times.
However, first, I needed a rest and the BBQ they said was after the game. I am getting old for this.
The end
June 30, 2016
Okay done
Double Yay! I finished it.
Besides the usual stuff with commas, missing words, colons, extra words, needing delete words, I was taken to the wood shed twice-or thrice for the same thing.
During the final battle my hero gives up and has to be reminded of various things as well as having one of her issues operated on. She is told something by her deep self that I evidently promptly forgot during the rest of the fight. A reader would have more than likely picked up on it and wondered what happened. So I was reminded of this in three different places during the rest of the fight. I couldn't remember saying that so I finally went back and checked. Oops, I did have that character say it. So I had to add some lines of thought dealing with that.
Before I reached that part through there was something else that needed expanding on. I thought I had done that later but evidently my editor thought it should have been sooner.
But I got all worked out-I hope.
There were times I mixed up then and than even though most of the time I know the difference and tired and tried. That last is a typo since I know the difference there too.
I still have two thing stop do though. I need to go back over chap 5-I think it as 5-and check again for typos (Rolls eyes at that). There should be few of them but it looks like there are more. Then as I mentioned last time decide about splitting that chapter.
Besides the usual stuff with commas, missing words, colons, extra words, needing delete words, I was taken to the wood shed twice-or thrice for the same thing.
During the final battle my hero gives up and has to be reminded of various things as well as having one of her issues operated on. She is told something by her deep self that I evidently promptly forgot during the rest of the fight. A reader would have more than likely picked up on it and wondered what happened. So I was reminded of this in three different places during the rest of the fight. I couldn't remember saying that so I finally went back and checked. Oops, I did have that character say it. So I had to add some lines of thought dealing with that.
Before I reached that part through there was something else that needed expanding on. I thought I had done that later but evidently my editor thought it should have been sooner.
But I got all worked out-I hope.
There were times I mixed up then and than even though most of the time I know the difference and tired and tried. That last is a typo since I know the difference there too.
I still have two thing stop do though. I need to go back over chap 5-I think it as 5-and check again for typos (Rolls eyes at that). There should be few of them but it looks like there are more. Then as I mentioned last time decide about splitting that chapter.
Chap 9 done
Yay!
Thought I would finish it last night but it was getting too late so I did the last little bit this morning.
I just finished chapter 9. One more to go-maybe today. But it might be a tough one because it has a lot of action.
9 had some bad places, half sentences and such, as well as that naughty "though" in places it wasn't needed. Not too many "buts" though.
Colons where a comma should be and once or twice the refuse. I had a comma where a colon belonged.
Thought I would finish it last night but it was getting too late so I did the last little bit this morning.
I just finished chapter 9. One more to go-maybe today. But it might be a tough one because it has a lot of action.
9 had some bad places, half sentences and such, as well as that naughty "though" in places it wasn't needed. Not too many "buts" though.
Colons where a comma should be and once or twice the refuse. I had a comma where a colon belonged.
June 29, 2016
Rearranging chapter sections
I mentioned in a comment to my last post that I may have to switch half chapters around to solve a consistency problem. I did.
I think I have Learning Curve all straightened out but I am going to have to read each redone chapter over again to make sure I didn't make the same consistency mistakes as last time with scenes in the wrong places.
I think I have Learning Curve all straightened out but I am going to have to read each redone chapter over again to make sure I didn't make the same consistency mistakes as last time with scenes in the wrong places.
