Justin’s Comments (group member since Mar 13, 2016)

Justin’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Great stories Paula and Kalifer!!

Good stories Tom and Jot! Fantastic!

Marianne wrote: "Mine's up. It seems to be a variant of Justin's, I'm afraid. Great minds...;)"

I've got no corner on the market when it comes to memories! Great story!

Thanks Tom! It may be autobiographical. :)

My Mind to Your Mind

There is a small stand of landscaped trees just outside my office, which I must pass every day. And every day I pause there – especially in the summer – to inhale the warm, sweet smell of fragrant evergreen and rich beauty bark. It reminds me of so many things in that one instant.
Of runs in my old neighborhood.
Cross-country.
Track.
High school.
When I was young and fleet of foot and svelte in frame.
When life was less complicated, but yet it wasn’t.
Of my paper route and early mornings wet with dew and crisp morning air.
When I had more time, but felt I didn’t.
One breath, one hearty inhale, and I’m immediately transported back.
To Friday nights and movie lights.
Girls were the great mystery and the future something vague and unhurried.
That’s why I pause every day, by this cultivated copse bordered by a curving concrete curb.
As others pass by, they may wonder why their coworker lingers near an unassuming outcropping of manicured green.
Because of memories.
Nostalgia.
Of reliving the past in the reverie of a few seconds, barely noticeable on my watch.
I get to go back.
Yet it is bittersweet, this temporary temporal transposition.
If I only knew then what I know now.
What I would change.
How I would change.
Choices revisited, revised and reconsidered.
The path not taken.
The unnecessary fears and worries of a clumsy life.
Stumbling from here to there, only to return,
To a small stand of landscaped trees and the sweet smell of fragrant evergreen.
Oh memory! Why do you do this to me?
You tease and torment with days gone by, set in stone for all eternity.
Is the present so painful that I must retreat into bygone times?
Nostalgia is a net, a trap, that ties us to the past and won’t let go.
I miss my friends!
I miss those days!
I miss who I used to be!

***
Torvan gently placed the skull back upon the ground where it had lain before he’d picked it up. He was surprised that even after all this time the memories of the deceased were so strong. He stood up and surveyed the windswept vista dotted by crumbling ruins and rusting conveyances. Dust hung heavy in the air and swirled in dancing vortices upon the scorched earth. Clearly there had been a catastrophe here, yet what it was he could not really be sure.
His comm badge chirped.
“You find anything?”
“Negative. We’re too late.”
“Seems so. Yet another sentient species we’ll have to catalog by memories alone.”
“This one may be harder than most. The memories are quiet intense. I’m exhausted after listening to just one.”
“Well, we’ll get a team down here. Do a random sampling and call it good. Okay?”
“Sure, go ahead and call it in,” Torvan responded.
The memories of the departed weighed heavy on his heart, yet they drew him back to the skull he had first picked up. There was not much else around it. Everything about this being had been erased – except the memories. He picked it up again, listening to the alien words and watching an alien world unfold before him in his mind.
There was the smell of trees again.
It was comforting.
Then a new smell permeated his olfactory senses, of something called… popcorn. This creature had worked around it and consumed mass quantities in its youth.
Flickering images of incredible heroes and technology far beyond what this species had achieved.
Torvan sat down and caressed the skull’s brow with his hand.
So much time spent thinking about the past.
What was it that made these creatures so backwards looking?
Another strong memory…some type of conveyance. It must have meant a lot to the creature because it was obsessed with it.
How it looked.
How it moved.
Torvan could see it before him and the creature beaming with pride about it.
It’s teal color.
Something called a sunroof and tear-drop alloy wheels.
Although they meant nothing to him, Torvan could see a name of some kind on the aft portion of the conveyance: Volkswagen GTI.
Then sadness as it went away, forever mourned as though it were alive.
What strange beings to be so attached to an unliving thing!
He detached his mind from the deceased and placed the skull in a special container.
“Alright, I’m heading back,” Torvan signaled his comrade.
Yet now, for some reason, he really wanted a teal 1992 Volkswagon GTI.
Weird!

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2022
Reviews/critiques welcome

Such a great story Marianne!! Loved it!

Paula wrote: "Oh dear--I do hope you are in touch with your doctor's office and/or know where to get the paxlovid or other antibody treatments if you get any symptoms. Yes, sleep, rest, eat carefully but well. W..."

Hi Paula,

In case you haven't seen your email, I've narrated your first three stories. I'd like to get the other two as well. I'm only going to do some light editing, removing breaths and tightening up pacing.

Greg wrote: "Join millions of Americans in the experience...


And another variation in my journey. Tested Positive for Covid at noon at my second day of work.

Out for isolation for the rest of the week. Doing..."

Best wishes in your new job and I hope you get well soon!

Marianne wrote: "Back from KY. Managed to get something up. Am dealing with veterinary issues for 2 cats. RL won't leave me alone, it seems."

A sentient building that cares for its tenants. I love it! Nice story Marianne!

Jot wrote: "Thanks all! Justin, I'll be in downtown Seattle only really a day, cause we board on Friday around noon, but if you're around there on Thursday, send me a text. I'll be up in the needle at noon, bu..."

Copy that. Not able to get away from work this week due to big events I have to run at Boeing this Friday. Hair on fire kind of busy (but you know, I'm bald, LOL!). Have a great time!

Great story Thaddeus. My little doggy Jefferson is 15 and we just had our vet check him out. He probably has about 6 months unless something catastrophic happens. His breed lives 13 to 15 years, so he's a good little old dog. I'm going to lose it when we put him to sleep.

Hey Jot! Have a great cruise! If you have any free time in Seattle and would like to get together for lunch let me know. Understand if you're all booked out. Have fun!

It is a great story Marianne! Very well done!!!! I see how you operate now. Duck out for a few months, then drop in with an amazing story, win a month, etc. Oh yes, we are on to you!!! LOL! Really outstanding work! :)

I voted last night, really!!!!

Compassionately Blind

The man awoke with a start, and immediately felt the pain of a throbbing headache. He found he could not move his arms, but perhaps even more disconcerting than that was his eyes were tightly bandaged. He felt a gentle breeze of mild air to his left. It carried a faintly sweet smell of flora in bloom and helped assuage the panic he felt twisting in his chest. He had something very important to do, but he could not remember what it was. In fact, he could not remember who he was. For the moment, he was a nameless mote in a sea of gauzy blackness. His head hurt!
“Good morning,” said a soft voice. “It’s good to see you awake today. We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever regain consciousness.”
Words would not come from his mouth, and even if they had formed, they would have only been random syllables falling loosely from his lips.
He could still feel his legs and he tried to move them.
“Easy now,” said the soft voice in soothing tones. “You were in a very bad accident. You’re in hospital now and I’m taking good care of you.”
He felt a gentle touch on his left arm.
“Your vitals look good and you will recover – but it’s going to take a while. I’m going to decrease your pain meds just slightly. That should help you to stay awake now.”
The man shifted in bed as much as the restraints would let him.
“I’ll be back to check on you shortly. I have other patients to attend to.”
He felt a swish of movement, then all was silent, save for the muted tones of medical machinery.
Panic surged again in his mind.
What was he supposed to be doing?!
***
“How’s he doing,” the chief physician asked the nurse.
“As well as can be expected with the number of injuries he’s sustained. Our knowledge of his physiology is extremely limited, but he seems to be responding the treatment we’ve given him.”
“Good. You know the General wants to debrief him.”
“Debrief him?!” exclaimed the nurse. “Good gods doctor, he’s sustained severe trauma to his cranial region. I doubt he even remembers his own name.”
“We have drugs for that,”
“And they might kill him for all we know,” retorted the nurse vehemently.
Why was she defending him so intensely?
“Easy nurse. I don’t want him dead. We’re both healers and I take my oath seriously, regardless of species. You do know what he did, right?”
“I know it all too well doctor,” she hissed. “I’ve got rounds. May I go now?”
“Yes of course, don’t let me keep you from your duties.”
“Thank you doctor.”
And with that, the nurse brushed past him and back to the main corridor, where she could see the two hulking guards standing outside in full combat armor.
As if he was going anywhere!
***
“Hello again,” she said to her patient. Several days had passed and his condition continued to improve.
“Hello,” he croaked.
It was such an odd way of communicating, but she manipulate the appropriate neural pathways and aural nerves so that he heard her outside of his head.
“Nurse…”
“Yes?”
“Will I see again?”
“Well, I was just coming tell you that the doctor says your optic nerves have been sufficiently repaired. Your bandages are coming off today.”
The man felt the soft touch on his left arm again. It lingered longer this time.
“Repaired? I don’t understand.”
“Just hold still now and try to relax.”
He felt the bandages loosen, then quickly fall away from his face.
The room was darkened to avoid hurting his eyes, but there was enough illumination that he could finally see this compassionate voice in bodily form.
It was then that Flight Officer Thomas Riley, formerly of the United Earth Deep Space Striking Force, remembered who he was, and what he had done.
He screamed.
The nurse recoiled in fear, her body emitting a slight incandescence.
Two guards rushed in, assault rifles at the ready.
“No!” she shrieked, interposing her diminutive frame between the two knuckle-draggers and the alien pilot writhing helplessly behind her.
“It’s okay! I was just startled,” said the nurse, regaining her composure. “Please, get out.”
The guards grunted but obeyed.
She locked the door behind them, then turned to approach her patient.
“Please, please,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe here with me.”
“But…I bombed…”
“Yes, you did. But my love conquers all.”

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2022
Reviews/critiques welcome

Outstanding stories Jeremy and Chris!!!

I'm happy to contribute stories in as many as the team wants. If someone wants me to proof their work, I can certainly do that too.

Tom wrote: ""The Caretaker" by Justin Sewall

A space-age survival tale whose set-up reminded me of "I am Legend" - a man alone in a post-apocalyptic world infested with nocturnal bloodsuckers. The hero's silv..."

Thanks Tom! Really appreciate your feedback and perspective!

Voted! Please don't disintegrate me! LOL!

Okay, okay! I'll get my votes in!