Just Go Away

Reality has been particularly insistent lately.  My time to write and work out ideas has been at a minimum.  Reddit has been a periodic escape and source for stories.  This is one writing prompt that caught my eye and sparked a creative fire.

I had been given many pieces of advice. Different methods and techniques for taking care of my problem. No two of them the same, but many of them similar. Simple words for an issue that was anything but simple. Not a single one of them actually worth my time to try them. Partially because none of those offering advice had truly had the experiences I had. None of them had been experiencing my difficulties for as long as I had, despite each of them pretending to be “experts.”

It all started when I was quite young. My parents both came from money. They were constantly going to charity events, visiting other towns and countries for holiday. I saw my nannies and tutors more than my parents. It was only during my late teen years that I learned the term “trophy child” and how well it applied to me. I had everything a kid could want, except other kids to play with. I had every expensive toy and all of the latest electronic equipment. It was all mine. I didn't have anyone to share any of it with, even if I wanted to.

Then one day Edward appeared. Not Eddie or Ed. It was always to be Edward. He would help me decide what to play with in the mornings after breakfast and early lessons. The two of us would high-five when achieving an accomplishment in one of my video games. We ohhed and ahhhed when we found my father's hidden stash of naked women magazines. Edward helped me fill the silence of the large, empty house when my parents were away and I had outgrown the need for nannies. He knew all my secrets and I had all of his stored away. We were inseparable. He was my best friend and the only person that would listen to me.

He was the only kid I knew from the day he appeared until I was in my late teens. I was at home working on a project with my science tutor when the call came in. My parents were returning from a ski trip in Aspen. A freak weather front knocked their plane out of the sky. I was now a very rich orphan.

Edward was standing behind my chair, supporting me during their funeral. He helped me fill the silence of the He sat patiently in the waiting room while I attended a seemingly endless string of appointments with counselors trying to help me. He comforted me as I hurled endlessly in the toilet after getting into my parents' liquor cabinet. Edward and I discussed it first and we both realized they couldn't punish me for breaking their rules any more.

The two of us kept each other going until I had to start interacting with other people in the outside world. I was nearly 25 before I decided to seek out more people. My tutors had all completed their contracts. The nannies were long gone. Without my parents, there was only Edward and me. Two people were not enough to make a life.

I hit a few nightclubs. I went to a number of youth centers. Indoor rock climbing, miniature golfing, movie release parties. Over time, I started to form a core group of friends. Some of them had known each other their entire lives, but this was all new to me. Edward had started to tell me that this was a mistake. With more than one person, he was correct. For the most part, socializing had improved my life.

There was only one thing I had to do. It was finally time. I had to remove Edward from my life. With friends now, they were doing all of the things that Edward used to do with me. He no longer had a role. It was now the time to take everyone's advice, even if I had to choose my own method to do it.

I stood up and looked Edward right in the eyes. In my strongest voice I said these simple words to him, “You don't exist. Go away.”

With that, Edward was a memory. Just a past figment of my imagination.

Who was your childhood imaginary friend?  Did they just fade out one day or were you forced to banish them?

Michelle's Time Alone

In my first book, Dangerous Stars, I introduced a secondary character named Michelle Henrix.  She was a survivor from an attacked research vessel.  During her time on the KRENNET, she aided the ship's engineer with tasks around the ship.  She vanished searching for the station where the KRENNET had been built.

In an epilogue for the sequel, Striking Among the Stars, she appears again.  This time as the captain and only crewmember of her own ship.  I've never thought much about what may have happened to her between leaving the KRENNET and boarding the BELLADONNA.  Until today that is.

Two weeks.  That's how long Michelle had been living on this remote station.  Arriving at the construction facility, she was quickly hired as a lead technician.  Apparently, showing up with a fuel transfer coil from the premiere ship of the previous generation of ships went a long way when applying for a position.

Two weeks of working in either a cramped passage filled with pipes and cables or drifting through wide-open space in a tight spacesuit.  Two weeks socializing with other technicians and engineers during off shifts.  Two weeks becoming known to everyone on the project for her efforts on the job and friendliness off the job.  Her name began to appear frequently in the reports reviewed by the handful of unknown figures that operated the facility.  This is something they commented to each other in their encrypted, clandestine communications.

While Michelle was installing the secondary signal relay system between the central command system and engineering deck, her next assignment was being determined without her knowledge.  The members of the group unknown to each other, recognized only by codenames and familiar voices.

"Unlike many of the candidates we have looked at, we have first-hand knowledge of her work ethics and abilities."

"That we do.  However, she seems too perfect.  I question so much about someone so ideal literally appearing on our doorstep like she did."

"You always have been so cynical and suspicious.  We have investigated and vetted her background.  I will admit that her encounter with both projects Cloud Cover and Hidden Knife is very coincidental.  However, with all the strange coincidences this universe has presented us with, it's not impossible."

"You're both right.  Given the type of fleet we are attempting to build here, we need to be cautious in regards to the crew we put on our ships.  We also need to be aware of the fact that the growth in the number of those ships will increase the chances of someone seeking us out and finding us, even if by accident.  We only build at the one remote platform in order to minimize the chances of discovery.  On the other hand, we don't arm and defend it heavily so those that do find us can approach unthreatened.  It is all part of our ultimate goal."

"According to my notes, she is liked by nearly everyone she has worked with.  I still wonder why she has never been put in a leadership position.

"She has been offered a number of promotions that would put her in charge of many subordinates.  She accepted the first one but has refused all others.  Something about her character makes her unfit for a large command and she knows it."

"I guess it's a good thing this will not be a concern with the crew of this new ship.  Leadership abilities aren't required when there is nobody to lead."

"I will compromise.  Madam Michelle will be considered a top candidate for the pilot's seat.  Still, I will send some of my own personal agents to interview people from her past in order to further verify the authenticity of her background."

"Understood.  While we wait for the final word from your agents, we can move ahead with some of the testing required.  As Michelle is already with the installation of bridge equipment, it wouldn't be a leap of logic for her to test the pilot/AI interface system.  Much of the neurological compatibility and response time testing can be done at the same time."

"We will not eliminate any of the other candidates from future considerations until we are unanimous in our choice.  Regardless of who it is or what species they may be."

With that agreement, Michelle's future career was determined.  Either she would pilot the craft she was currently lending a hand in building, or she would be "eliminated from future considerations."

Back at the station, far from any of the individuals making important decisions, Michelle finishes her shift and rides the shuttle between the construction platform and the station housing the living and entertainment quarters.  She makes a comment about one of the construction managers that causes all of the shuttle passengers to laugh loudly or quietly chuckle.  Even the pilot, brother of the subject of her comment, smiles.

I may or may not give Michelle Henrix her own book.  Would it still be considered a spin-off if the originating series is only two books?  There is so much to think about when creating an entire universe and filling it with characters and events.

Fidgeting and Spinning

Fidget spinners are the latest fad to invade practically every aspect of everyday life.  They have even reached into the realm of Reddit writing prompts.  Of course, more can be done with fictional fidget spinners than just giving them a whirl.

I wrote a short tale for one particular prompt that caught my eye.  If you don't want to open a new browser window or follow the link, the tale is below.

I've had many subscription boxes over the years. Random comics, toys, movie props, all kinds of things. My favorite box each month, the subscription I've maintained the longest, is from Fantastic Spintastic. Two or three fidget spinners each month. Metal ones, plastic, even a wood one now and then. All of them in different colors and more shapes than I would have originally imagined. I have spun them all. A few flashy ones, most of them average, but none of them particularly special in any way.

One month the box felt heavier than normal. My first thought was, “Bonus. Extra spinners this month.”

I tore off the outer packaging and slowly opened the inner box. There was just one spinner inside. After taking a good look at it, I could see why. It laid on a form fitted felt cushion inside the hard metallic box The middle grip was solid black and shined like metal but felt like soft rubber. It had four arms that appeared to be made of smooth gray stone. The entire thing had the feel of a brand new granite counter-top. Strange characters ran the length of each arm. They looked a little bit like runes shown in the fantasy novels I read and DnD games I like to play. I lifted the spinner out and noticed a symbol engraved on each tip. A clock, a drop, a lightning bolt, and a skull.

As I walked up my driveway from my mailbox to my front door, I gave the new spinner some slow experimental turns. It was a lot smoother and lighter to turn than its appearance suggested. Reaching out for the doorknob, I gave it a good spin to test its speed and duration.

The arms became a blur and the runes started glowing. There seemed to be a breeze growing and coming from between my fingers. A single note, like an opera singer holding an extended note, started to rise from my fingers. A sensation of low voltage electricity flowing from my hand and up my arm made me both excited and a little scared. This new spinner was getting better by the second.

I stopped the spinner as I opened my front door. The drop symbol faced away from me as it flashed. The next thing I knew, I was being washed off my porch and onto my front lawn by a cold tidal wave of water. I looked around from my unexpected position on my back in muddy grass. Everything in my yard was soaked. What I could see of my living room through the open door looked to be dry as a bone.

Of all the thoughts that ran through my head as I got up off the wet grass, two stood out the most. Picking up the spinner, I wondered what the lightning bolt and clock symbols might cause to happen. The other thought was a strong desire to not find out what happened if I stopped the spinner on the skull.

Is there a current or old fad that was guilty pleasure?

To trust or not to trust....

One thing that keeps life interesting is continually growing and learning.  Always stretching to new heights and reaching out to new horizons.  With that in mind, I have picked up a book to help me with my writing.  It is a simple book of story starters.  One or two lines to get the juices flowing.  Where things go from there is completely unpredictable, even to me.

I wanted to believe him. I really did. I had trusted him before, and it hadn't worked out that well. So now, when he assured me that everything would be “just fine,” I wasn't too sure. I knew we wouldn't be any worse off than the situation we were in right now. There would be consequences for what happened today. Somehow, “just fine” seemed to be too high an estimation. Unless I used a rather loose definition of “fine.”

The tunnel around us is lit by strings of lights with bulbs every few feet. The air is chilled and stale, but not stuffy. Breezes move through side passages and ventilation shafts drilled through the rock overhead when this was part of an active mine. These days nobody bothered to dig for riches in these tunnels. The only people that bothered to move this far under the surface are ones with alternative goals. Goals shared by the troublesome man in front of me, myself, and the four brutish fellows behind me.

The plan had been a simple one. A staged car accident with overly dramatic and loud “victims” would cause a distraction. The guards and any other witnesses would be distracted while each member of our group subtly switched one of the bags of money in the back of the truck with a fake bag. It would be impossible to tell the difference between the fake bags and the real ones until they were opened. By that time, we would each have walked our separate ways. If any one of us was seen or caught, nobody knew which ways the others were going or how anyone else was getting to the rendezvous in this old mine. If anyone was followed, or the authorities found us, there would be any of a number of side passages and exits we could use to escape. Far too many for the police to cover all of them.

Everything ran real smooth. The accident distracted the rookie guards. We each switched real bags for fakes and quietly walked away. Over the next 14 hours we each made our way to the mine. We were ready to split up the take. Then the earthquake hit.

We were all in an open section of the main shaft when the rumbling started. The supports around us held up without showing any signs of being stressed. The same could not be said of the timbers near the entrance that were exposed to weather and the elements. They collapsed in a choking cloud of dust and grit. As the earth stopped moving and the air cleared, we could all hear the side tunnels collapsing in the distance. We were now cut off from the outside with no way of knowing how to reach the fresh air and sunlight.

We argued and fought about whether or not to try to call someone from our cell phones for almost an hour. Then someone rather loudly pointed out that there was no service where we were. Calling out was not an option. Then everyone fell silent. The only sounds were our breathing, sand falling as the shifted earth settled, and the drips of water somewhere in the darkness. After some time, the echoing silence was broken by one man speaking.

“I've got this. Trust me. We'll be just fine.”

Have you trusted someone that proved untrustworthy before?  How did it turn out?

Ready to Rumble

There is the WWE, World Boxing Federation, the UFC, Lucha Underground, and many other leagues that feature combat for entertainment.  The combatants prepare themselves in different ways.  For today, I decided to enter the mind of one competitor before he enters the combat arena in a league that doesn't exist.....yet.

Here I sit. Getting myself prepared for what lies ahead. A battle. A fight for supremacy. A bout that will take every ounce of my power in order for me to be successful. I have been successful in similar situations before, but never with so much at stake. Victorious, and I will be the top of the heap. The best there is at what I do. Completely and officially. Until another comes along and tries to knock me down, that is.

I flex my fingers. I clench my fists. I can feel the energy coursing through my arms. It is aching to be released. I am aching to unleash it in a fury aimed at my opponent. I want him broken and beaten, begging for mercy on the floor. I want him looking up at me and knowing that I am his superior. I want to look him in the eyes and see his weakness and my strength reflected back at me. The problems lies in the fact he wants to see me the same way.

I have to fight smart. I must not let myself lose control. I don't know how my opponent may have prepared himself for my attacks. How he plans on defending himself from my onslaught. How he intends to on shattering my defenses and taking me down. Despite my urge to utterly destroy him quickly, I have to restrain myself. I have to prod and test his shields. I have to probe his defenses while keeping mine intact. As the power in every cell in my body rages at me to unleash it all in an animalistic attack, I must keep my mind focused and in control.

Mere seconds remain. I am alone in this locker room. The tools for my fight sit on the bench next to me. I gather them up as the music in the arena rises. The crowd adds their voices to the din. My blood begins to boil and my breath comes faster and harder. I start my walk to the arena and the combat pit in the middle of it. The brief time it takes to complete the few steps between the locker room door and the entryway into the arena feel like an entire mile walked in slow motion.

The music becomes louder and spikes a blast of notes. The spotlights of the arena focus on me as I emerge from the shadows. The entryway glows around me. The announcer's voice echoes over the cheers, applause, and stamping feet. Even the small amount of hisses and jeers sent my way are covered up by the volume of the PA system.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have reached tonight's Main Event! It is for the ultimate title in the League. The most highly regarded title in the entire world. The challenger tonight Torgo the Black Blooded. The current champion is Christian of the Mighty Tower. Now, these two face each other for the title of Magus Suprema in the Wizarding Battle League!”

What kind of spells would you cast to protect yourself in a wizard battle?  Would you rather go on an all out attack and not worry about defense?  Would you want to see a battle live, or prefer to be safer and watch it on pay-per-view at home?

All the Colors of the Rainbow

I have long been mindful of the limitations caused by various physical handicaps.  While I don't experience any such handicaps myself, I try to be aware of the things those with handicaps may not be able to experience.  Someone deaf can't be woken by the morning song of the birds.  The feeling of soft grass underfoot is missed by one bound to a wheelchair.

Even with the constant pushing of technological boundaries, there are still some limits.  One thing science hasn't allowed us to do yet is show colors to the blind.  How do you show someone that has never seen what red is?  What do you use as a reference when saying that yellow and blue make green?  That is what I'm going to attempt to do today.  Not everything I describe will look like the color I use it with.  I'm less concerned with how something looks than with how it feels.

Red
Red is the color of anger.  It the fire that roars inside when feeling rage. The pop and roar of a fire give red its sound.  It is the raw heat of flame.  It is the lifeblood that flows through our bodies.  Pricking your finger on a rose's thorn calls red forth.  Cinnamon is red on the tongue.

Orange
Orange is controlled strength.  Orange is the warmth of a body under a thick, soft blanket.  The feeling of a warm mug of tea in your hands.  Trumpets and trombones play orange's music. The acidity of orange juice as it flows down the throat, the sharpness of a grapefruit, the sensation of a warm slice of pie.  All of these are orange.

Yellow
Yellow is soft and smooth.  It is calm and quiet.  The touch of the sun on a spring day is yellow.  The softness of a baby chick.  The silky feel of a rose petal.  Songbirds in the morning sing yellow's song.  A kitchen filled with the smells of baking bread becomes yellow.  Yellow tastes like crisp lemonade and the buttery texture of a pastry fresh from the oven.

Green
The smell of a freshly cut lawn fills the world with green.  The emotion of living is green.  A bite from a crisp apple is green.  The vibrancy and renewal of Spring is all green.  Green is the sliminess of Jell-O squished between the fingers.  It is the pungency of fresh mint.  It is the burst of juice when a grape is crushed between the teeth.

Blue
Blue is where colors start to get cool.  Streams and creeks flowing from melting snow are blue.  Being sad is sometimes called feeling blue.  The clatter of ice in a glass of water ring with blue.  The coolness and relief from that water running down a parched throat.  The air after a cleansing rain is filled with the smell of blue.  The popping of blueberries and their essence in a muffin are the flavor of blue.

Purple
Purple is the color of royalty.  It flows with pride.  It is the caress of a thick pile carpet.  It is lounging on a very comfortable couch.  A clarinet and sax quartet would play the songs of purple.  The pop and fizz after a firework explodes are all purple.  Sipping a sweet wine causes purple to flow over your tongue.

There are many more colors, but I think this would be a good start.  Do you think I got any wrong?  How would you describe a color I didn't?

A Whole New World

One of the important components of a good story is a good world.  In order for a story to take place, there has to be a place for the tale to occur.  One of the challenges of writing is finding the right balance between narrative and world building.  Bogging the reader down with too many details of the world without any action is just as bad as leaving the world empty and not allowing any context for why the characters behave the way they do.

Today, I'm going to play the role of a mythological god and build myself a world.  Someday I may populate it with characters that have adventures.  Or I may leave it empty and see what happens.

Emptiness.  A void that lacked even the black of darkness itself.  Such is the canvas for creation.  First, a sun so that there may be something to brighten the days of the world.  Also, so that there may be something ti differentiate the day from the night.  Opposite the sun are a field of stars.  Bright points of light to make the night less frightening and to guide long distance travelers.

Now, for the world itself.  A medium sized planet with a broad temperate zone.  Three landmasses separated by expansive oceans.  The continents meeting at each pole with ice covered terrain.  Mountains run the length of two of the continents with the third being covered completely in jungle.  Creatures roam the lands.  They crawl among the tree branches and scamper up the steepest cliffs.

The seas contain the clearest waters.  Waters that contain animals that vary in size and shape.  All of them eating each other in the struggle to survive.  Currents carry water from depths so dark, denizens there know no difference between the day and the night.  The waters are replenished by rivers that flow over each continent.

The space around the planet itself needs to be filled.  Three moons should do that nicely.  Two in a standard orbit at typical distances for such heavenly bodies.  The third tidally locked moves around the planet in a polar orbit.  This configuration should confuse any astronomers that may spend their time studying the heavens.  To inspire any future civilizations to further expansion, the system should contain more planets.  This one in particular shall be the closest to the central star, with five others spread out unevenly behind it.

The emptiness is now filled.  The void contains both darkness and light.  Everything is ready for the stories of the peoples that will fill the planet.

What kinds of people would you have populate the planet?  Would there be peace for the entire world, or would wars be ravaged for the spoils of each terrain?