Monday, January 27, 2020

Microstory 1286: The Turtle and Her Home

It came to pass in the very early days of creation that the god of the animals, and the god of the plants, decided to marry each other. They wanted to better blend all life in the world, and manage them together. Only then did they think life would thrive, and multiply. All the animals living at the time were invited to the wedding, and nearly all of them showed up. Notably absent, however, was the turtle. No one knew why she wasn’t there to honor the god who created her, but they were worried that something terrible had happened to her. After the ceremony was over, they came to learn that the turtle was perfectly safe, and that she had simply chosen to not attend. The others said it was rude and inconsiderate, but if they were being honest with themselves, perhaps they would realize that they were mostly upset because they had felt obligated to come. She wasn’t afraid to make her own decisions, like they were. It was only the two gods that were willing to listen to her explanation. “My house is not much,” she explained, “but it is mine, and I love it, and it is where I feel the safest. You invited the sharks and the seabirds, and though you placed a temporary truce on us, I was too afraid that my predators would not honor it.” And so the two gods thought over her concerns, and decided to make things better. They wanted her to feel safe all the time, even though they knew that she would forever remain part of the circle of life, just as everyone else was. The best idea they could come up with was to allow the turtle to carry her home with her wherever she went. So the turtle was happy.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called Zeus and the Tortoise, though I can’t seem to find the source that I drew from, and I don’t feel that it would be right to link to some other version of it that uses different wording.

Sunday, January 26, 2020

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 30, 2268

Mateo felt something hit him in the groin. It was clearly meant to wake him up, but even the pain wasn’t enough to stir him. A voice apologized, but it was so scratchy that he couldn’t tell whether it belonged to Leona or Nerakali. He was feeling groggier than he ever had before, almost like he had been drugged. The hand came back down on him, but this time higher, upon his chest, so it wasn’t painful.
“You gotta wake up,” Leona said, sounding groggy too. “We all gotta wake up.”
He could hear Nerakali making a ruckus on the other side of the tent. “Where’s my cuff,” she asked like a drunkard.
“It’s on your wrist,” Leona answered. She struggled to roll over on top of Mateo, seemingly in an attempt to get to the other side of him, but she just got stuck.
“Which one?” Nerakali asked.
“Pick one,” Leona instructed. “If it’s not there, then pick the other.”
“What is going on!” Mateo demanded to know.
“Something’s wrong with the wards!” Nerakali yelled back. “I can’t figure out how to get us out of here.”
Mateo lifted his own arm, and looked at it over Leona’s shoulder. She was still on top of him. “I’ve got a blinking button here that says EMERGENCY SUPERPOSITION.”
“No!” Nerakali cried. “Don’t push that one!”
“This is an emergency, it seems. Is someone coming?”
“Someone is indeed coming, but you can’t save us that way.”
“I’m gonna do it.”
“Don’t do it.”
“I’m doing it.”
But it was too late. Mateo managed to get his other hand out from between him and Leona, so he could press the button. The tent above them disappeared, but they were still in the woods. Well, it might not have been the exact same woods, but it was close enough. Then the trees disappeared, only to be replaced by different trees. Those trees disappeared, replaced with a clear sky. Mateo turned his head to watch the ground. The scenery continued to change, and not only that, but it was getting faster. Much faster. Much, much faster. Mountain summit, prairie, tundra, underneath an arcological tower, on the deck of a boat, on the bank of a river, on the side of Mateo and Leona’s special hillside. They just kept jumping over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. They must have gone to a hundred places before Nerakali got a grip, and stopped it using her own Cassidy cuff.
“What the hell was that?” Leona asked. She managed to get herself off her husband, and safely onto her own ass. It looked like they were on a hiking trail now.
“That button placed us in a state of quantum superposition. We would have continued to jump forever—generally far away from other people, and too quickly for anyone to be able to track us. I got the idea from a TV show about angels. I don’t know why that was an option on your cuff, and I sure as hell don’t know why you pressed it.”
“We were being attacked.” Then Mateo looked around. He actually wasn’t so certain of that. “Weren’t we?”
“Quite possibly,” Nerakali said. “The ward alarms went off, and we were experiencing the temporal sickness that was meant to be inflicted upon our intruder. I was trying to get us out of there, but not by doing that.”
“No matter,” Leona said as she was standing up and finding her footing. “It worked. Whoever found us, we’re here now.”
“So am I,” came a fourth voice.
Mateo closed his eyes. They just can’t get rid of her.
“Arcadia,” Nerakali said. There was some disdain in her voice, but also some love.
“Hello, sister,” Arcadia replied.
“You’re the one who attacked us?”
“No,” Arcadia argued. “I’m the one who tried to find you, not realizing you would place a gene blocker on your spatial wards. That’s why my approach jacked you up so much.”
“I did that so our mother wouldn’t be able to get to us,” Nerakali explained. “I guess I need to work on my technique. They obviously backfired.”
“Yes,” Arcadia agreed.
“No,” Nerakali said, “not because you should have been let through, but because they shouldn’t have done us harm. I don’t want you here either. Why are you here?”
“I want to help,” Arcadia claimed.
Nerakali chuckled. “Have you ever...said those words before? Perhaps you don’t know what they mean.”
“Ha-ha,” Arcadia said sarcastically. “I’m serious. I know you thought I was always mama’s little girl, but I want to stop her as much as you. That bitch is running around, giving me a bad reputation. People think she’s me. It used to not bother me, but my power-aides are losing faith in me.”
“A sports drink worships you?” Leona asked.
“Not the drink.” Arcadia rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about people who aid me with their powers. I can’t teleport, or travel through time on my own. I can’t create a spacetime merge point, or possess people’s bodies. If I want to do these things, I employ someone who can. They’re my aides.”
“You created a pretty sophisticated system,” Leona pointed out. “It always looked like you had the powers.”
“Nope,” Arcadia said. “Like most people, I just have the one power.”
Leona looked over at Nerakali. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to ask, why do you have more than one temporal ability? You can blend brains, and travel spacetime. Why is that?”
“I dunno,” Nerakali replied. She sounded sincere. “Athanaric never explained why he built me this way. Why would a blender need to travel through time when she was designed to live in a higher dimension where time travel is impossible anyway? It’s like he knew I would end up on Earth one day.”
“Maybe he did,” Arcadia guessed.
“Are we gonna keep talking about this?” Mateo questioned. “Or are we going to figure out what to do. I can barely force myself to trust one Preston, but now I’m expected to trust another? What happens when Zeferino shows up? Are we going to end up at one giant hyper-destructive family reunion, or something?”
“It won’t be truly destructive unless our father is there,” Arcadia said. She mocked the sign of the cross.
“He’s right,” Nerakali said to Arcadia. “You can’t be here. You’re dangerous.”
“I really do want to help. I’m being honest about that. I’m not planning a doublecross, and I won’t get bored, and lose interest. I’m with you; one hundred percent.”
“Sometimes you’re kind of okay,” Mateo said to her, finally well enough to stand on his own two feet. “Sometimes you make Satan shiver in his seat. That means those times when you’re okay don’t really matter that much, because no one can ever trust you.”
Arcadia looked legitimately hurt by his words, and he almost regretted them. She stared at him for a moment before looking to her sister. “Self-cleaning mode.”
“What?” Nerakali asked. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Not now,” Arcadia said. “Give me one of those cuffs. I know you have an extra, because they come in pairs. Program mine with an SCM protocol. If I step out of line, any one of you can activate it, and be done with me for good.”
“I can’t imagine you would agree to this,” Nerakali doubted.
Mateo looked over at Leona, but she seemed to have no clue what they were talking about either. They both decided to be patient.
“I’m not just agreeing to it,” Arcadia said. “It was my idea.”
“You must have some defense against it,” Nerakali assumed.
“Yeah, maybe. I mean...I guess that’s a possibility. I can’t really prove that I don’t, but I’m extending a sign of good faith. This makes it so that you don’t have to trust me. You just have to trust your own abilities.”
Nerakali shook her head for a bit, weighing her options. “It’s up to them, if they want to risk it.”
“We don’t know what an SCM is,” Leona reminded them.
“Self-cleaning mode,” Nerakali began to explain. “It’s a blender term. I can make an individual recall things that didn’t happen to them, by blending their brain with that of their alternate self. You know this about me. What you don’t know is that I don’t have to add memories; I can also take them away. In fact, I can take them all away. I can turn you into a vegetable, which isn’t..holding to the analogy very well. I can make it so that you remember nothing; total amnesia as a weapon, or a fresh start as a gift.”
Mateo was working through it. “So Arcadia is agreeing to wear a cuff that can be programmed to erase her entire mind if she steps out of line?”
“Basically, yes,” Nerakali confirmed. “It’s an insurance policy.” She looked back over to her sister. “I don’t like that she was the one who came up with it, though. It’s obviously suspicious.”
“You’re the one in control,” Arcadia said. “I can help. I know Savannah better than anyone. She liked to talk to me up in The Gallery, because I always agreed with her. I was a dumb child who couldn’t think for myself, but now that I can, I can use what I know about her against her. Let me do this. You said it yourself, Mateo; sometimes I’m okay. This is one of those times.”
“I said you’re sometimes kind of okay. You’re never good.”
Leona stepped forward, and got herself closer to Arcadia. She stared into her eyes, and studied the thoughts swimming through them for at least thirty seconds. “Give her the cuff. Even if it doesn’t work, we always beat her. We’ll get through it either way. If there’s a chance she can do some good, I’mma risk it.”
Nerakali took Arcadia by the arm. “The other cuff is back at the camp.” She teleported all four of them back to where they were before. It was here that they packed up, had some breakfast, and prepared to head out for their first mission.
According to what Leona knew of history, when the cities were torn asunder, and replaced by far more efficient arcologies, only a few things were left whole. Besides truly magnificent historical locations, like The Great Wall and Machu Picchu, there were also a few small outposts that didn’t necessarily serve a purpose, but were ignored anyway. These small pockets of history were only known to a few people, and they were pretty much all underground, because that was really the only way regular humans knew how to hide things. The reasons they remained were never recorded, but they might have had sentimental value to the people in charge of destroying them, so that was probably how they survived. Most were apparently too innocuous for the government to bother with them now. The Space Corp base where the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was presently stashed was one such of these places. Nerakali teleported the group to another place, which those who knew it existed called the Bucket. Water was dripping from the ceiling, and it possessed a certain sweet fungal scent. They carefully walked through the hallways, but she assured them that there was nothing to be afraid of, and they didn’t need to know exactly what they were there for. It almost sounded like she didn’t really know.
“I knew a friend who could find special temporal objects. The hundemarke was pinged at this location. “I do not believe we will be able to take possession of it,” Nerakali whispered, “but we’ll be able to trace its journey from here, as long as we get there in time.”
“Oh, you’re here in time,” came an echoing voice from down the passageway. They picked up the pace a little, and entered the room. A man was sitting against the dirty wall. He had a bottle of alcohol in one hand, and a gun in the other. “You’re always on time,” he slurred. “No matter what I do, you always find me. I just can’t get away.”
“Who are you?” Mateo asked, stepping a little closer. Leona tried to hold him back, but he was too curious.
“You don’t know me yet?” the man asked, then he took another drink. “I suppose that means my plan is successful, and I die here tonight.”
“No one has to die,” Mateo promised him. “We can talk about this. I’ve met people before who have already met me. Whatever I did to you, I’m sorry. Maybe I can change it. Just tell me what I can do to help you. Tell me what you need.”
The man closed his eyes, and nodded his head. “I don’t need anything, and someone does indeed have to die.” He reached into his shirt, and pulled out the hundemarke. “It ain’t gonna be you. I know this, because you’re right, I’ve seen you in the future. You do try to help me, and you fail. But that’s okay, because I’m here now, and I can end it. I can end it right here.” He jangled the dog tag. “I already have. I don’t mean to sound like some kind of mad purple alien, or anything, but I’m...inevitable.” He lifted the gun, and pressed it against his head. He also tipped the bottle down his throat, and finished it off.
“No!” Mateo shouted. He dove forward, and tried to reach for the man, but a mysterious force threw him across the room, and against the opposite wall. Then he heard a gunshot. Then everything went black.

Saturday, January 25, 2020

Dardius: Vitalie Crawville (Part IV)

When it came to the question of home, Vitalie Crawville didn’t really know what that meant. She was born on a rogue planet called Durus in 2165, but her fathers were from Earth, and were only there as refugees. Fortunately, before too long, a small interstellar spaceship came by, and rescued a small number of people, which included her and her family. So she finally lived on Earth for a good stretch of time, until circumstances forced her to leave. She had to help a friend named Leona in her search for a husband she couldn’t even truly remember having. The journey took them throughout a few other universes in the bulkverse as they worked to procure special objects that would aid them in their quest. Once that was all over, she found herself on another ship, destined for a planet called Bungula. She never did make it there, but instead landed on its neighbor, Proxima Doma. The situation continued to evolve, and events continued to unfold—an alternate version of herself came back through time to change history—and she finally found herself on a planet millions of light years from Earth, and its stellar neighborhood. So where was home? Not really anywhere, and that was probably okay.
She came to this place with her friend, Étude, who had also been doubled due to time travel. They could have returned home at any time, but they chose not to, for Étude soon met a man, and fell in love. And soon after that, they conceived a child together. This new life changed Étude’s perspective on everything, and she quickly grew tired of the special temporal powers that she was born with. She could teleport and travel through time, and build massive objects almost instantaneously. She didn’t want to be like this anymore, and luckily, she knew someone who did. She also knew someone who could help them with their problem. Her husband, Newt Clemens had the ability to manipulate other people’s abilities. It was he who transferred everything Étude could do to Vitalie, so she could finally take her rightful place as The Caretaker.
Life was great on Dardius, but it wasn’t perfect, and there were times when certain people needed saving. Vitalie was able to provide that for them, as what few could deny was best described as a superhero. She protected the entire world from various threats. There were accidental threats, of course; faulty demolitions, and rickety staircases. There were more human dangers too, however. The populace was composed of people who had been rescued from Earth because they themselves were threatened by time travel. The rescuers made every attempt to properly integrate these people into society, but that didn’t always work out, and it was really nice to have Vitalie on the side of right, to make sure the outliers didn’t cause too much damage. She was good at it, and she was beloved for her efforts by most. Still, this took a toll on her, and it took her a long time to realize why.
Vitalie was nomadic. She didn’t like spending too much time in one place, because that was what she knew best. Circumstances had always thrown her to the next chapter in her life, but Dardius was different. It was stable. More to the point, it was too stable, and it felt to her like she was going to die there, which was something she didn’t want to think about. There wasn’t really any single moment that changed her mind about where she was, and what she was doing. She didn’t fail to save a child from a burning building, or punish someone who turned out to be innocent. These things could have happened, and would not have been available for do-overs, because time travel was illegal on Dardius. Except for one place. It was called Tribulation Island.
A man named Mateo Matic co-owned the whole planet with his wife, Leona. It was given to him by his frenemy, Gilbert Boyce, but it never really belonged to any of them. Dardius belonged to the people, and they had the right to govern civilization however they saw fit. They elected their own leaders, and made their own laws, and any accommodations they made for Mateo was predominantly out of respect. Even his status as the Patronus was a temporary solution to a terrible problem, and he was always destined to return to being less of a governmental official, and more of a symbol. These conditions, however, never applied to Tribulation Island. The Matics owned that land fair and square; like an independent nation over which no one else could have any control. It was for this reason that Vitalie decided to shed her life as the world’s Caretaker, and take up a new purpose. She was never allowed to travel back in time to help people while she was operating on the main lands, but those policies could not extend to the island, so she decided to exploit that.
There is a location in the universe called The Nucleus. No one knows exactly where it is. Some say it’s in a pocket dimension, while others think it’s literally in the center of the universe itself, though inflationary theory doesn’t really support this possibility. Some believe it exists outside of time and space, or perhaps beyond the boundaries of the universe. Wherever it is, no one in recorded history has ever accessed it by any means besides a Nexus replica. A Nexus is a special device used in one of these other universes that allows near instant transportation between planets. The design was replicated in Vitalie’s universe, but functions on vastly different principles. There are very few of them in existence, placed on different worlds for different reasons each. One of these was built on the Nucleus, though no one seems to know who was responsible. For doing so The reigning theory is that someone very, very far into the future finally discovered its true location, and went back in time to give their ancestors quick and easy access so they wouldn’t have to go to all the trouble. Vitalie moved to Tribulation Island to make use of this access.
The Nucleus is capable of accessing any point in spacetime, again for reasons no one who even knows for sure it exists understand. It’s an incredibly hostile and dangerous place, and is quite inhospitable to life. The temperature throughout most of it holds steady at a half degree above absolute zero, which is literally the coldest anywhere could ever possibly be ever. The Nexus replica building possesses a central heating system, but no matter what, it can never raise the temperature any higher than negative forty. External forces are constantly trying to freeze the whole place, so this is as good as it gets. If a traveler were to enter the only safe location on the Nucleus, they would want to do so with extreme-weather protection, and still probably not stay there for very long. Yet Vitalie has technically experienced the environment billions of times.
“What are you doing here?” Old!Vitalie asked. Old!Vitalie was a very different version of the Vitalie who lived on Dardius as the Caretaker. She was billions of years old, but only had memories going back for the last fifty-six. After all this time, she was finally confronting her alternate self. of them, anyway.
“I’m waiting for everyone to stop using the Nexus replica,” Young!Vitalie answered so I can get back to work. Every second counts. Literally.”
“Explain,” Old!Vitalie demanded.
Young!Vitalie prepared to go into her whole thing. “I was the Caretaker of Dardius, but before that, I was the Caretaker of Proxima Doma. Eventually, people stop needing my help. So I’ve had to find new purpose. Now, I may not look it, but I am over two hundred and sixty years old.”
“I’m much older than that,” Old!Vitalie pointed out.
“True, but I’m also much older than people realize. You see, I came here looking to help people, but I realized a few things about my skills. Number one, they become obsolete. I could go to any planet I want, but the people there will eventually stop needing me. Number two, these other planets do exist, and they do need me. Number three, as powerful as I am, I’m not immortal. I’ve been able to remain young, but I didn’t take immortality water, like you did. My time will eventually run out, so I can’t just keep hopping from planet to planet. I’ll die before I’m even finished with one. So I determined that my only course of action would be to go to all these planets, most of which will not even be inhabited for thousands of years, and extend my services all at once. What am I doing here, my alternate self? I’m generating billions of more alternate selves, and dispatching each one through the Nexus replica.”
“Where do they go?” Old!Vitalie asked.
“They go to a very special place called the Nucleus, and from there, they can move on to their respective final destinations. I can send about eleven alternates every single second, and I’ve been doing that ever since they built this damn thing in 2095.” Young!Vitalie gestured towards the Nexus replica.
“Didn’t people notice you doing that?” Old!Vitalie asked.
Young!Vitalie breathed in deeply. “Yes, which is why I’m still not done. I keep having to take breaks, and let other people use it—or simply hide away so they don’t discover me here. Why, you coming through has already set me back about three thousand planets.”
Old!Vitalie just stared at her. “That’s stupid. What you’re doing is stupid. You’re sending your alternate selves to save people in the future after they colonize planets in the galaxy?”
“Well, not this galaxy, but yeah.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little...?”
“Narcissistic?” Young!Vitalie guessed. “Self-obsessed? Vainglorious? Whatever the difference there is between those three words, and others like them, then yes, all that. But I’m fine with it. Now, if you and your friends are quite finished with this thing, I would like to return to my job.”
“Don’t you wanna be there?” Old!Vitalie questioned.
“For what? Mateo’s funeral?” Young!Vitalie asked back.
Young!Vitalie shrugged. “I barely knew the guy.”
“Well, maybe you want to be there for his wife?” Old!Vitalie suggested. “It might be kind of nice for her to interact with a version of us who actually remembers the day we met. I have no recollection of that myself, as that day rests far beyond my memory threshold.”
Young!Vitalie could see her point, but this was really important work, and she was almost done with it. Though maybe that was what made it okay. She could probably stand to take one more break, and finish up in the next several years. What’s one day to celebrate the life of someone she did legitimately care about? Well, it was about nine hundred and fifty-thousand planets, so... “Okay, I’ll do it. I just hope I don’t die before I reach the outer edges of the Milky Way galaxy.”
“We all hope that,” Old!Vitalie agreed, though it was hard to tell the difference between sincerity and sarcasm when it came to her delivery. The two of them took each other by the hand, and headed towards the exit together.
Pribadium Delgado vigorously scratched the part of her head just above her ear. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit since I met you time travelers, but that might be the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever heard.”

Friday, January 24, 2020

Microstory 1285: The Boy and the Chocolates

A class of young school children was on a field trip to the mall in the center of town. There were many fascinating specialty stores there that were able to keep the children busy for hours. One sold all sorts of art supplies, while another was dedicated to music. There were restaurants of all kinds, and even a small theatre where the students sat to watch a local production of a popular play. There was also a candy story, which the students were specifically warned not to enter. A half hour before they were set to leave the mall, however, the teacher revealed that they would indeed be going into the candy store, but that they would be going in together, and in an orderly fashion. The kids were all so very excited. The owners of the candy shop were a friendly couple who liked to bring joy to children’s lives. So they agreed to a deal where each student would be allowed to take on fistful of candy from one of the dozen or so jars that they had laid out on the table for the occasion. The children were very good. Each one stood patiently in line, and waited their turn. One boy amongst them was a little different than the others. Due to a condition he had had since birth, he was rather large for his age, and he always felt a little out of place. His classmates weren’t too terribly mean to him about it, but he did experience a few jokes here and there. One thing he loved was chocolate; probably more than anyone else here. He could live off the stuff for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, when it came to be his turn, he found that he could barely fit his hand inside the jar, let alone grab a fistful of sweets, and pull them out safely. It was a rule that each child would only be able to take as much as they could in one go, but it was looking like he wasn’t going to get very many. He reached as far as he could, but the best he could do was grasp one piece between his index and middle finger; one lousy piece, and it wasn’t even his favorite kind. “Surely we can bend the rules this one time,” one of the shop owners said. “We shall pour some into his hand.”

“Only if that’s okay with the rest of the students,” the teacher said.

The boy was saddened, for he did not think his classmates would let him do things differently. But he was wrong. They gladly gave him permission, with no hesitation. After all, they had already received their own candies, and weren’t going to get any more, whether he got his own fill, or not.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Boy and the Filberts.

Thursday, January 23, 2020

Microstory 1284: The Squirrels and the Frogs

Squirrels are very timid creatures. The slightest twitch of a twig will cause them to run away, and seek safety. A scurry of squirrels once lived in the southern lands, who did not know what to do with themselves. They didn’t want to live like this anymore, but what else could they do? They were always afraid, but there was never any way to know for sure whether what frightened them was truly something to be feared, or if it was innocuous. The only thing they could do was run, and they only got an answer to the question once they were out of harm’s way, if at all. But what kind of life was that? Was there a way to transcend their nature? Surely they couldn’t become the predators they were so afraid of, and nature never gave them any means to protect themselves. What could they do to feel safer, and not just for one day, but in the long run? Perhaps it was impossible. One day, the whole scurry was running from a team of stampeding horses. The horses meant them no harm, but they also didn’t have any strong feelings about the squirrels, and were making no effort to avoid them underfoot. The squirrels found themselves running towards a lake. While squirrels can swim, the lake was probably too large for them to swim clear across to the other side before becoming too tired and drowning. Still, they didn’t think they had any other choice, so they just kept going. As they approached the bank, an army of frogs noticed them, and hopped into the water, frightened as well. “Look,” said one of the squirrels. “I suppose there is always someone worse off than you, isn’t there? Maybe our lives aren’t so bad.”

“No,” another replied to him, “things are neither good, nor bad. They just are. Come, let us speak with the frogs. If we teach them not to fear us, maybe we can learn to fear less as well.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hares and the Frogs.

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Microstory 1283: The Lion and the Turkey

In the animal preserve, all the animals got along. The predators were given meat by the humans, so the prey no longer felt that they were in danger. A sort of society formed amongst just the animals. They didn’t have a democracy, per se, and they certainly didn’t know how to vote, but they did sort of agree to let the lion rule over them, to some degree. The truth was that there weren’t a whole lot of decisions that these animals needed to make, since the humans took care of pretty much everything, but they liked to feel that they were at least somewhat independent. After all, this was something they could not get in the wild. The lion would never rule over anything, as he would have naturally eaten half of everything in there, and the other half if times were tough. This was something special. One tradition they began was to have the lion walk across the courtyard in front of everyone at the beginning of every day. The humans were not yet awake, so they would not see how strange and out of character this was. It was a vain and pointless ceremony, but they did it, because again, there wasn’t much else. During one such of these walks, the turkey made a rude comment about him under his breath. He was tired of being ruled by the lion, and didn’t think it was fair. The lion heard what he had said, and turned to face his detractor. The prey close enough to hear it spread word to the others, and everyone guessed that the turkey would be eaten for his insolence. The predators snickered, for most of them guessed the lion wouldn’t even bother with the turkey. He was a silly little creature, and surely not worth the lion’s time. But they were all wrong. The lion stared at the turkey for what seemed like ages. Then he placed a paw on his shoulder, and ushered him away from the crowd. “Come, my friend,” the lion said. “We should discuss your grievances. What good am I as a leader if I do not listen to those I lead? If something should be changed, we will change it.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Lion and an Ass.

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Microstory 1282: The Werewolf and the Wife

In those early days of misunderstanding, a young werewolf pup became separated from his family, and his pack. He had to grow up in the woods alone, having long forgotten where he came from, and not knowing if there were others like him. He could turn himself into a boy, sure, but he lived like an animal. Over time and with no family, this wild side of him took over, and there seemed to be no hope that he could ever live amongst others, of any kind. The regular wolves could tell that he was different, and they wanted no part of him. Years later, he was taken in by a family, and raised there with their teenage daughter. “He will only hurt you,” their neighbors would say. “It is in his nature, for he is clearly much more wolf than he is man.” But the family did not listen, and they decided to help him learn to be part of something larger than himself. While they were all there for him, the daughter was largely responsible for teaching him how to be a civilized human. The werewolf grew further, and got himself an education. He held onto his studies, and eventually made his way into academia, where he became a professor of Werewolf Sociology at a prestigious university. He married the family’s daughter, and she continued to help make sure that he did not forget his manners. This was a far cry from the naked animal-boy he was before.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cat-Maiden.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Microstory 1281: The Little Fish and the Big Net

There was a fisherman who was proud of his work. He did not care to go to the market and purchase the tools he needed for his trade. When the seas were too dangerous, or when he just wasn’t up for going out on the water, he liked to sit in his cabin, and create his own tools. He carved his own fishing rods, strung his own fishing lines, and even weaved his own net. He was so proud of his net that he couldn’t wait to go back out there, and give it a try. He dropped it in the water, and dragged it along to pick up as many fish as he possibly could. Now, the fish he caught were large, which were great, but he noticed that a great many smaller fish escaped his clutches. He was not happy with this. He wanted to get all the fish he possibly could, so he went back home, and started weaving a new net. He made it as tight as he possibly could, so barely a drop of water could pass through. “No fish will escape me now,” the fisherman said after months and months of working on it tirelessly. He dropped it in the water, and scooped up a hefty haul. When he took his catch to the market, he noticed that people were still only buying the larger fish from him. “Why don’t you take some of these instead?” he would ask. They always answered the same, that there was not enough meat for them to get anything out of those tiny little fish. “But I worked so much harder to get these ones,” he complained. It didn’t matter. His efforts were not just pointless, but counterproductive. Had he only focused on gathering the fish he would be able to sell, he would have been able to catch more than one school. No one cared how much effort he put into his profession; only the results of those efforts. They would have been just as happy with the larger net.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Fisherman and His Nets.