Arthur’s Comments (group member since Oct 25, 2008)

Arthur’s comments from the Short Story Contests group.

In case you are wondering you may vote in the contest poll follow link
http://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/10...

Good stories everyone!

“No ways I’m going to see tonight. Besides,” he waited a second wondering if it was real what he was trying to say to Fiend, “no way round here Fiend. ‘aybe cause there only found iron ore around here. You’re off your rocks.”

“That’s what I came into this wood to find and I’ve found it.” Fiend implied with dignity that also sounded a little bad that he was now a little offended by Tucker’s disbelief. “All those years searching and after all there was a mine down in the Sheep Rock area that sold shares but I goes off on my own and now I’m rich.”

“Sheep Rock, that old mine. No Fiend that place was in the history books, it’s been closed mining for gold for a hundred years.” Tucker insisted.

“A hundred years? What road did you say this was again, 622? I’ve never heard of it. Why’d they name it a number?”

Tucker was cold, bitter, flat and embarrassed. Mary let him out on the road and with his bad luck he met a loony. “It takes no magic Fiend. 622 is a highway. Then and now. I gotta go. ”

Tucker began to move but he saw that Fiend began to turn into the wood.

“Hey, town is this way Fiend. You are going ‘a catch cold more like and someone find you dead!” He stepped toward the wood seeing Fiend beginning his running. Like an Indian untrusting an enemy because Fiend untrusting he was fast into a run.

Tucker ran after him. “Fiend stop! Fiend! I’ll see the gold for god’s sake. Stop!” But Tucker ran and ran finally losing him around a turn. Tucker hollered again and again, “Fiend! Fiend!” but the old red face disappeared.

When Tucker turned he had not fully realized how deep he had got in the wood while looking for the strange old man. Tucker eventually had difficultly locating anything that looked familiar. He could not find the old road he came off.

In disparity he kept calling out ‘Fiend’. But the old man was no where to be seen.

He eventually found an old canoe. Tucker knew they had canoes in Rainy River but couldn’t imagine where a relic like this canoe would have been from. He quickly thought it must be the crazy Fiend’s canoe. Tucker walked over to it looking at it as if in hope it contained travel supplies. Within it it had some yellow sandy bag in the middle, Tucker had to get into it to look inside the bag.

When Tucker leaped into the canoe it caught in the water and was unsettled and begun to move away from the shore. Ignoring that Tucker looked into the bag. In it was a large lump of gold. His eyes jumped out. But then he noticed there was no oar in his canoe. While looking back toward the shore, several feet away, he saw the old man peering at him.

Tucker shouted. “Fiend, there’s no oar!”

He had begun being pulled down into the stream pulling the canoe which was going down further and further with the river.

Tucker began to realize he could stay afloat if he remained unseriously nervous and stayed steady while in the canoe. Which was moving faster and faster and unsteady with his nervousness.

“I have it! I have it!” Tucker shouted to Fiend, pointing to the bag. His words tumbled out in triumph for he now realized he was in Fiend’s canoe and that the oars must have been hidden on shore!

Fiend remembered his trouble lifting the gold into the canoe and his red face twisted into a snarl as he remembered.

Tucker remained afloat to his surprise and his unnerved orientation of being free without oars in a boat. He was going down steam in a rush, but Fiend had oars, and hid them, so he must have gone up the stream against the water current as boat people did. Tucker wondered if he was going the way Tucker had come. Maybe the canoe will stop where Fiend could find him. That would be okay, but taking him farther away from town.

And it was suddenly more colder than before.

The moon had been showing. The quietness was drowned out by the sounds of being in a canoe. Tucker refused to jump in fear he would get pneumonia. He tried paddling with his hands for a while but with no results. He was caught in the flow of the river.

A brightness shinny like metal appeared as if by magic in front of Tucker. It grabbed about his eyes causing Tucker to absorb it as energy. He felt as if turned inside out but not turned out side in.

When his vision and pain subsided it was of him in the canoe flowing down a river but in day break. He let out a knowing scream!

He heard the animals on the banks that were so numerous he knew where he was headed. He had traveled magically through time just as the red face Fiend had. Tucker was carrying Fiends gold too! That meant he was trapped unless he could find oars and find the spot and travel back into his time. How that happened he did not understand. But he knew there were no roads at all in Fiends time. There was only a fur trading post hundreds of miles off in the other direction he wasn’t going in. Tucker sat down steady and calm and sighed.

The End.

Name: Tuck Coe
Words: 1940
Genre: fiction/ magic
By: Arthur
Notes: I was having a fun time writing this but realized I was running to a problem with the end. Tucker remains the main character but learned a little about being a leader in his adventure in the wood.

*** ** *** * *** ** *** * *** ** *** * *** ** ***

Tuck Coe


He took his last swing but made no contact with the ball. That must have been his third strike and now he was technically struck out. Out on his old luck and on the road. Mary had disliked his last joke the one that made her sick of his feminist ways and asked Tucker to please step out of her car. He shivered. He shrugged. He looked up into the drying winds that hung over him bending into an evening dust. The sun disappeared leaving grey mists. He drew on his jacket threw out his chest but knew how to get home, wherever that was in reality.

Tucker this Tucker that Tucker you . . .

He stepped into the middle of the puddle of dried up leaves that was made to stick together by the road in mud from some days ago. He wiped off his heavy boots. He laughed to himself and then bravely moved on. Shouldering the pain of being alone in the dark he merely tried not to laugh some more.

His job at the Pricedex Software/Gas was getting to him now. But then work is not a place to blow off ones fuse. This was life.

With all the events of his life summed up as two corrections. One he could always be alone because he couldn’t control his language. Two even if he had he’d never see a long life because he wanted to live quick.

Tuck Coe had no religion, he has no belief in the gods or magic and felt nothing for the subject he would have to personally disbelieve as myth.

He felt tiny with a grudge when Mary ditched him and he began to savor the idea now how to get back and even with Mary. On the other hand he wanted to keep his nose clean at least in the town so as not to be mistaken as the town stalker or whatever it was called and so he shrugged off the offenses he was imagining in his mind.

He began to sing a song instead thinking he had heard it once before but then realized he was merely entertaining himself with a singsong he would makeup on the spur of the moment. “There must be your way

Getting yourself so far away

Now must this be the way

With you not coming back as you was,” He would sing pronouncing each word as if they were the notes and with a loud thrumming voice adding to his high hisses at the ends.

He stopped a moment when heard some rustling in a wood that was ahead along the road. He had to walk in the direction to get to the town so he just did his best to ignore it. In the far deeper recess of an open area farther behind him he heard a howling and knew it was a strange dog looking and barking into the full moon.

He quickened his pacing when he realized he had already altered it when he had become frozen for a second. He began to pass that area without hesitation then he saw the green and black leaves coming to life soon realizing it was the rustling only of a man traveling nimbly onto the road too.

He was not alone on the road now at least. Another Joe to share the road. He turned to the man with his best and friendly smile. As if for himself he was saying hey don’t be a stalker okay. But then who else would be found along a road but one of them. Tuck realized the face had to look right. Or he could just continue to walk on without turning back and they both could continue ignoring each other.

“So where you headed now?” Asked the red face even though he did not appear as if he was embarrassed at all with asking and for someone strange or with his just standing out from the wood in the night alone also in approval.

“Nowhere? Who cares?” Tuck said with a rude smirk and sounded kind of like he let it out with all his might.

“I do,” Red face said, but judging Tucker’s emotional face changed his mind. “No. No one could. But I must find out where I now am.” The red face looked embarrassed now.

“Am? How could you really be lost?” Tuck asked.

“Yes. Well, see I was uh heading over to town but haven’t found this before.” He was pointing with a finger to the road. Tucker looked into the man’s face but saw his eyes were nothing more than black. Tucker had to laugh but hang-it-all he had not dared too. The old face should have been familiar even with it being dark but Tucker decided he could not remember the face.

“So, why should I know?” Tuck finished. Turning towards the road, he nodded away from the red face and say. “Heck it’s that way I guess.” And began to walk a little. The old man just stood there in wonder.

To Tucker his town Atikokan looked like a big outcropping but very miniaturized of a metropolis. He looked back and ask red face, “You coming or not?”

“It’s Fiend.” Red face said.

“You’re named Fiend?” Tucker should have known. And he should have recognized the Ojibwa-Potawatomi voice from him too. Red face turned and looked again toward the road Tucker was on and down it away toward where he thought should be able but could not see the town then his expression was one that looked like he was not coming.

“Suit yourself. Fiend I’ve gotta go. I’m not engine red like you who okay’d in the normal cold before. I’m going into town.”

“What is this road named?” Fiend enquired.

“Uh 622. So why?” Still trying to help Fiend but Tucker said, “You think you still lost?”

“Yes maybe. Very lost.” Fiend said. “I’ve found gold!” Then with a becoming hand waved Tucker to come into the wood to see.

Finally after hundreds of years someone else had the gold bug.

um.

Awesome Angel!! Your poem Vivid colors suggests thoughtfulness.

OLDDvictim wrote: "Olivia wrote: "Hey, how about captive as a topic?"

I think this would be a cool topic."

http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/9...

Name: A Promise As Promised
Word: 580
Genre: general-fiction
By: Arthur
Notes: I wondered what if, but couldn’t put its story into words. Then a longer version with another character was too long of course. A strange longer story condensed into a very small story.

* ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

A Promise As Promised


Patrick Ruben had become famous overnight in his college with his crazy new medical science cure he was able to patent. Only once before on one patient who miraculously lived he had proved his doctoring and a cure for Locked-In syndrome. He was given full endorsement and soon had developed the KickIn-Virus-LX-Dopy serum which fight viruses with a phenomenal level of success as variables are all matches of symptoms of diseases and he went one further obtaining his cure. Maintaining that health returned after his procedures as an exact science he had a patent for saving life or death.

Matt one day had been found near death paralyzed. Remedies in the hospital proved futile. Matt reacted strangely to medication and clinically was dead. He had a time and date of death and was taken to be analyzed in the morgue.

Patrick Ruben learned that Locked-In syndrome may have been the cause. He attempted the use on a person who had died the KickIn-LX and with a new promise of reversing the causes of death. The churning of death lifted its veil and miraculously Matt regained consciousness. His health and feelings returned within weeks. Whatever the medical treatment the hospital used at the time to his recovery Matt regained and left the hospital.

Months later he had to return. Daybreak had come in spilling into the room, and it was bright blue and newly sunny. The light was let through a small window. A bird chirped and chirp. It then flew and chirped some more and scratched the roof. That was noticeable. The room was filled with such sounds. Pails for washing in the hall scratched against the walls. Mops washed the floor and scratched up dirt. Nearby doors scratched and clicked and latched or after opening. There was nothing more than feeling what then went beyond normal sensations and it all seemed to narrow up as scratchy feelings.

There he was a little man, named Matt who defined existence by scratches. He never physically felt one, not on his face or a brush near one of existence, he only heard them in his mind, such scratching. He could not go out of his straight jacket without a scratch. But by his mind his freedom to leave if not to fear scratches but he did all day. He has lived his life a second time, now scratching he knows he could not make an important choice. One to respond to being procreative and respond as an individual. He flatly refused.

He refused because Matt believed he was now an experiment like some creation of a monster like Frankenstein. It made him scratch. It was hard to believe he had only one second ago, (before he died) been given a second chance he could not remember, but it meant his being resurrected and because of medication. He felt like a cyborg. He felt like a scratch. He felt he had to explain himself that he was normal. Patrick Ruben defined life after death as just living again. Nothing more, nothing less. Matt had other ideas less brilliant and much darker, like he had let down the world when he died and was still doing it because he lived. Still he tried to forget his death experience. He tried to live life a second time given the chance. But he scratched and scratched and something unstable in his personality yet unexplored by the doctors kept him locked up to explain life after death.

The End

How embarrassing. I used a document from my hard drive that has ideas I haven't worked out.

How embarrassing. Sorry Monolith. I fixed that.

Kali did a super job writing 'Sukie', winning the week contest you get your story displayed on Short Story Galore, find the story winners at http://shortstorygalore.synthasite.com/
or http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
Sunny and Arthur tie for second!

Instructions:
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.

You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6... for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.

This week's Topic is Promise. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You can mean pledge something, could mean to assure or warn, write about a vow to someone, anything long as you have the word in it!

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)

Good luck!

Arthur [acting for Clare:]

P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.

You have until Sunday afternoon to post a poem on here before the Topic changes. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. You're welcome to discuss poems on here also.

This week's Topic is favor. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Poetry Topic Objections post.


Poems can be as long and short as you want them to be. This is not a contest, it's just for fun and to show off our own poetry.

The contest is again done for the week. Please go to the poll to vote who's your favorite story.

please no more stories for this week's topic

Name: Three Stars Worlds
Words: 1220
Genre: Fiction Sci-Fi
By: Arthur
Notes: Undine travels in a new starship meeting three people she found herself to cherish.

** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

Three Stars Worlds

“Up ahead there!” With his heart broken from leaving his home system Captain J.T. pointed with might that there was hope still far ahead of them. The crew here with new lives were all new to Light Tere.
From their recently adventure to this date the starship Triassic called for by that name because the Captain has animal gene in his body, been voyaging in other systems, but have a new Ordinal contract bringing it to newer worlds in this solar system. The Light Tere system is a milk container of rich success and spoils which had credibility for two thousand years.
Before coming to Light Tere Captain J.T. felt more at home in places like the gaseous hothouse system only known as Mavis, being his universal home, had it been acceptable but now lost to war, and has slipped into a non-quotas status in the past two thousand years.
Light Tere has accepted various increases in population. Beautiful planes of shoreline, exotic preservations and nomadically kept to preserve the world’s wild life and early tradition native-people have found a home successfully in Light Tere. All that is surrounded by a successful civilization.
A red and yellow nebulous mass of light pointed towards the oldest known planet the Earth. Light itself lies with such symmetry that it is believed to have cosmic ties with rational stories of superstitions and our primitive early life but importantly of alchemical and astrological magic which is because it is still a bright light seen from higher air and space but to the old world not to be observed by bare eye outside from the earth. Light’s Earth’s neighbor unseen. It has no iron nor casts any shadows of doubt. It just lies outside in the higher air. It is the third closest domesticated system filling our culture and civilization, not belittled but lived with wild adventure.
Lt. C. Undine was an Ordinal sent being stationed in an outpost in Light Tere on Davie Modern. She secretly held a crush for the captain but she knows her heart belonged for the time being until they arrive all in one piece and safe and sound.
Captain J.T. Trissi lightly docked Triassic among a thousand other starships. Triassic was the largest making him feel very proud. His two other female crew companions Lt. L. Mysable and Corporal A. M. Rae-Moore act as stewardess’s and unload Triassic passengers.
Lt. Undine lingered behind others because she made a special friendship with the stewardess’s. They spoke about the military and the secretive past. They talked about the other systems. Like how Mavis is so victimized. A thousand habitable planets lay in the Mavis system and each are gone to war. It is all rumors and the internet delivered news leavings feeding the rest of the universe as devastating as it is.
“Are you interested in wild life?” Rae-Moore asked looking enthusiastic. Rae-Moore dreams of going toward Earth being colder and more conservative but she may never go there. Her trip near it had not been boring. She had checked all the internet articles on their coms to help her knowledge of Earth. She felt like the captain had that passengers seek little help from others but one never really knows.
“All I had was a dog. Why did you think I knew about animals?”
“You looking at the Captain,”
“He is handsome.” Undine made sure she was understood by her emphasis. They share a giggle.
“What are you doing now?” Rae-Moore asked.
“It’s a new world for now. I’d like to see it. And I plan to do quite a bit of travel after I’m settled first.” Undine replied. “I’m not sure what I may do for a couple of weeks.”
“The military life as an Ordinal will wear you out before long.” Rae-Moore said.
“You are welcome to visit and I was hoping you’d stay before you leave.”
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“The Captain. We are on foot once we set down there.”
“Oh?”
“J.T. has been given a pickup/delivery task. He locates it in the Dry Valley on Davie.”
“Why does this sound so secretive? I thought Light Tere had no secrets?”
“One tries to bring to light to what one can. Why one time Davie was a barren rock that attracted all them people and it was nothing more than a geological fan site and not any interesting more than moon dust.” Rae-Moore shook her wavy blonde hair.
“While Davie now is an advanced settlement it contains adventure.” Stated Lt. Mysable simply.
“There are kinds of adventure?” Looked Undine in wonder.
“Not sure of the details, but we are safe when Captain J.T. will bring us. Care to go? It won’t be more than a few days.”
“Sure.”
They flew over land across the Mojab closest aircraft are allowed over the preserves. Following was the rest on foot.
J.T. brought a Void. It looks like a safety-deposit box. One side six feet and six out was a square having a central wheel and balancing wheels. He pushed it all the way.
Davis is a large planet compared to Neptune.
Entering the Dry Valley it appeared sunny and dry at first without much but bareness to notice. A valley with ridges and as Undine was able to see three suns. That was uncompared to the north hemisphere where Davie shows only two.
It gave a fantastic view with shadows becoming light and light disappearing into shadows randomly. Lunor was a massive star stuck below the southern pole. It was fixed far away but gave the daylight still. Davies was in orbit of Munor. And there trapped was a dwarf star Dunor as well. It’s been long established that Dwarves are often stable after being treated.
A brief stop Undine asked Rae-Moore and Mysable what was her chances with J.T.
“If it wasn’t for the starship he’d be at home. He’s a one gal guy.” Rae-Moore curtly told Undine.
Later Undine approached the Void while J.T. was sweating and pushing it.
“Need another hand?”
“Sure. Why not?” He gave her a smile.
She pushed and pushed. They eventually got going twice as fast and by the next circuit day they had reached their destination. A large spot of land crackling like it was once mud and now ash was before them.
“It will take us a few more hours.” J.T. told them.
Those hours spanned and they came upon the creepy edge of the area. Now it looked as if winds had blown it into piles of sand and in the distance was a dune of sand. Then there was others in the further distance.
“Why did we come so far?” Asked Undine in bewilderment.
“Shush! If it hears us it could scare and hop away.” J.T. whispered.
The three women asked in unison. “What?”
“There it is!” He pointed towards the most unsightly frog in history. “Happy Valentines ladies!”
Where was I all of this time? I was in hope of a passing fly, one I haven’t seen in ages. They came towards me and one said, “We could each take a leg…on three. One…two” I flipped over and dangled there to one side. “Three!” My other two legs were grabbed and I was pulled up and was carried upside-down and then locked into a box.

The End

Has anyone from this group made much money??

The "Chaosphere" is again done for the week. Please go to the poll to vote your favorite story. LOL. A NEW weekly topic will appear every Mondays.

title: Maidan-Gigots Digitizer
name: Arthur
genre: fiction
words: 699
notes: Intelligence I guess will be science.

** * ** * ** * ** * **

Maidan-Gigots Digitizer

Franc Brummagem had held the electric device that will change everything the world has hold of to be true. He tightened on the one and only device known prestigiously as the Maidan-Gigots Digitizer. He is a worldly known man and stood out in any crowd, today in a historical collection of people he had his share in an array of persons which had collected themselves voluntarily through their distances–as simple components–now brought together think they deserve their being heard.

He is standing at the head and has directed reporters of media and guests for hours. Upon his sight is the stare worth the attention of a belonging. This being taken pretty straight forward, he does get the idea across without much confusion to the gathered people. Today they unveiled the Maidan-Gigots Digitizer.

Franc’s speech ends quoting some unfinished poet’s thoughts, thus:

“Until today it was said,

Nature scarcely left assured
the freshness of air –
Dreams enter the realm
not coupled in pair.

When senses give to weir
Heart its despair –
Love not to share”

“…..He has left it undone and until today prophets and the scientist’s and all minded poets-a-like have assumed he died without writing the last couplet.”

“Frankly I don’t convince that easily, he knew poetry. Where is the couplet meter? It is a riddle but not a rhyme but a philosophical observation set-into-motion. It is a poetical stanza. Scientist’s say it is proven to be the only poor stanza in existence, but why the missing last line?”

He waited for his audience members to understand Science. Franc followed through with his personal belief that the last line was missing intentionally to prove it was safe to experiment using the earth as a catalyst. Have belief and hold faith in god. And an all powerful god that created everything in our universe even a chaotic universe after the descent of man.

“Science.” He gravely stated.

People applauded. The sound drowned out the background. Lights had been focusing on the podium and the speaker speaking. They were worshipping just like the pagans that much was true. There was a sudden sense of unity that became truer like a pandemonium. The earth to envelop as a catalyst if it could it would and if you could just see it. The crowd in awe listening took the next step.

“The self appointed task fell in the hand of man. Men’s wonder from a most senseless point way back toward the beginning of time has to answer to the word ‘journey’. We dedicate our art who make our surrounding a little appreciated. The time came for realization. Thus aspects grow from one era of generation to the next until it became just as it has today. We live in philosophy. Even still then would exploration count for every piece of land for everyone of the people. The zoologists we misunderstood and the study of geology and its geologist understand the need for fulfilling the aspects of requirement for the known explorations of the conceivable and inhabited worlds near earth and qualities.”

The pandemonium would not ease up after this giving speech. Who outweigh the odds? God and paradise came after death in every religion so why not unity of science. Science? Science and land and space and dimension?

Franc Brummagem stood with his finger at a ready mark above a red encircled command button. The audience became hushed. A few photographers kept taking last photos of every movement Franc was going to move. It was time to make history. Time to reveal history.

A reporter yelled a statement to the other worldly newspapers, “When it rains, it pours. Or in Franc Brummagem and the Maidan-Gigots Digitizer’s case, when it rains, the world flies apart.”

Everyone laughed.

A few people dodged to their quiet areas to pull out cell phones to call in their ideated headlines for their press columns. “When it rains, it pours. Or in Franc Brummagem and the Maidan-Gigots Digitizer’s case, when it rains, the world flies apart.”

The laughs slowed. Chants so quietly it could not be heard in voice but a steady hum was achieved. Do it. Do it. Do it.


The End

Instructions:
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.

You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6... for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.

This week's Topic is Intelligence. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could write about an agency of intelligence, or taking a intelligence test, just as long as you have the word in it!

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)

Good luck!

Arthur [acting for Clare:]

P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.

Daniel wins his first Weekly contest taking first place with his story , and Clare gains a second place with her story “Letter”.

Congratulations Daniel.

You have until Sunday afternoon to post a poem on here before the Topic changes. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. You're welcome to discuss poems on here also.

This week's Topic is voice. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Poetry Topic Objections post.


Poems can be as long and short as you want them to be. This is not a contest, it's just for fun and to show off our own poetry.