Friday, December 11, 2015

Microstory 210: The Line

Talking on the phone is my greatest fear, and I never do it. I’m best with the written word, because I have time to really think about what I want to say. I become quite anxious around others, but at least when I’m talking to people face to face, I can read their reaction to what I’m saying, and tailor my words to fit their demeanor. I’ve been working with a therapist, but I still jump away when I hear the phone ring. Believe it or not, that’s progress. I used to hide in the other room. And so, whenever I have a question that can’t be answered through cyberspace, I just drive to where I need to be. I’ve been having problems with water damage in my basement, and recently attached this flexible plastic tubing to my gutters. The problem is that the tubes are constantly in my way when I’m trying to mow or rake the leaves. I would like to bury them in the ground, but I need to find out where I’m allowed to dig, and whether I need to obtain some kind of permit, or if I’m not allowed to do it myself.

I pull up to the local government building and walk inside. I am immediately met with the longest queue I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously, I can’t even tell where it ends. I stand in line for nearly an hour, and feel like I’ve made no progress, but I know that I have. No musak is playing, so time goes by very slowly. All of the sudden, my name is called on the intercom. I don’t move for half a moment, because I didn’t expect it to happen. No one knows that I came here. I didn’t call, I didn’t write; I just showed up. That’s how I do what I do when I do what I do. Just as I’m thinking that I may have misheard the announcement, they call my name again, and this time I’m sure that they mean me. They even use my middle name. I timidly step out of line and head down the hallway according to the directory on the wall. The place is a maze, and I think I went in circles a few times, but everything looks pretty much the same. Finally, I arrive at the door where the lady on the intercom told me to go. After preparing myself the best I possibly can, I turn the knob and peek inside. All I see is complete darkness. Not even the first few inches of the floor are illuminated by the light from the hallway. “Hello?” I fearfully call into the void before me. A phone rings. I jump back and try to leave but the hallway is gone. I am in the midst of the blackness. Another phone rings. And then another. And then a chorus of phones, ringing at different intervals, and with different tones.

As I’m dying on the floor, my heart trying desperately to beat, but failing, I see an alien walk over me and pick up one of the phones. “I was right! Humans can die of fear. It’s probably a heart thing. You owe me five space bucks.”

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Microstory 209: Steeling Glances

For centuries, the traditionally misguided have been sent on the quest to find the Steel Plate of Algamoritha. The plate is not hidden, but it is difficult to reach. They say that the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. The treacherous, though not deadly, obstacles that stand between the entrance and the vault are designed to prove to yourself that you are ready to become a better person. These obstacles include cutting through a dense thicket, swimming across a river with an extremely powerful current, and navigating a pitch black labyrinth where torches do not stay lit. A requirement for this journey is that you come alone. The vault will not open if more than one person are present. The Steel Plate is not a treasure. It cannot be stolen, and if you did somehow manage to remove it, it would be worthless outside of the vault. The plate was created to show its viewer three things. The first vision that it will show you is your deepest depression; your lowest point; that time in your life you thought you would never get through, but did. The second vision is of your greatest accomplishment; the success you had that made you feel the best about yourself; the one that nobody can take away from you. The third and final vision is a glance into the future. You will see a hint at what life could be for you as long as you work hard and become a productive member of society. The purpose of the Steel Plate is to give you encouragement and perspective for your life. It is its intention that you leave the vault knowing that, even though you have faced hard times, there is still hope for you to find your bliss. But it is not the plate itself that will ultimately cause you to become determined to make better decisions. It is the persistence through the obstacles that make the most impact on your future. It is estimated that roughly nine out of ten people who make it all the way through to the vault end up seeing the obstacles they just completed as the vision of their greatest accomplishment in the Steel Plate of Algamoritha.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Microstory 208: Alarming

When I moved into this house two years ago, many of the previous owner’s belongings were left behind. Hangers, gas detectors, and blinds were there, as one might expect. But there were also buckets, a fairly nice set of knives, and a full dining room set tucked away in a corner of the basement. I shrugged it off and let it go. I replaced the gas detectors with those that I could monitor with my smartphone, but I utilized everything else. One night, I was taking a bath and watching television when I began to hear consistent beeping; several minutes in between each one. It didn’t sound like what I thought my detectors were supposed to sound like, but perhaps I just misremembered. I stood under the main floor smoke detector and waited. When the beep came once more, I could tell that it wasn’t that one. I crouched down to the carbon monoxide detector, but it wasn’t that either. I opened the door to the basement, hoping that I wouldn’t have to go down, but when the beep came, I couldn’t be sure. Irritated, I slipped on some socks and shoes and walked down the steps. Not that one either, but maybe there was an old detector in there that I hadn’t noticed. There was an alarming number of smoke detector wall connections, most of which weren’t in use when I arrived, so that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. I shone my flashlight, looking for it, all the while running into cobwebs. Another beep, but I was sure now that it was from upstairs. I went back up and continued to look for the source. A childhood nightlight my parents had me take even though I had no use for it? Of course not. My electronic book reader? Not a chance. I hadn’t picked that up in months, so it was well dead. This thing I don’t know what it is? Still can’t identify it, but no. Then I thought to check the antique chest I use as a coffee table. Inside were boardgames, quilts, and stuff I forgot about. When I opened it, I found all the old smoke detectors. I recklessly cracked one open. Now, I’m no electrician, but I found both the logic board for the detector, and what I could only describe as a bug. Someone had been spying on the previous owners. I was astonished and frightened. As I was inspecting it, the beep came once more, but not from the bug. It was above me, in the ceiling fan. I stood on the chest and reached up to a small video camera. As I drew it down, it interacted with the radio waves surrounding my phone, which meant that the camera was still operational, and even sending out a signal. I was the one being monitored.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Microstory 207: Miniature Library

Lucille walked by a certain tree nearly every day after moving to a new neighborhood. In her mind, she knew that attached to it was a miniature library where she could trade books as she pleased, but her thoughts were always elsewhere, and she always ignored it. Then one day, she got to thinking about how she had always intended to read Moby Dick, but just never got around to it. Knowing that it was a long shot, Lucille stopped at the mini library and began to browse. Most of the books were short romance novels and pulp fiction; none of the classics, and no Moby Dick. She sighed and was about to leave, deciding that if the universe wanted to read the book, it would have provided it for her. Just then, another woman came from the opposite direction holding a book, supposedly with the intention of swapping it out for something else. Upon closer inspection, Lucille realized that it was none other than the exact book she was looking for, and an old edition from the looks of it. Miranda had been reading books out of the mini library for years. In fact, she would read one at least once a week. No matter what, if a book had been left in there that she had not yet read, even if she didn’t like the genre, she would take it. This particular book, however, was hers, passed down from her late grandmother. They got to talking to each other and discovered that they had much in common. Despite being avid exercise walkers, they had somehow never seen each other around the neighborhood, or at least had not noticed. They both loved to read the classics, but did so less often than they would care to admit. They were also into surface water sports like surfing and water skiing, and had moved from the east coast. They parted ways after talking for almost half an hour, Miranda with a technical manual someone had probably left as a joke, and Lucille finally with Moby Dick. After that day, however, they continued to encounter each other often on their respective walks, sometimes miles from the neighborhood. A couple of months later, they went out together on their first date. It was at a library, of course.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Microstory 206: Captain PRIS and Little Suzie

My sister works internationally as an elementary music teacher. She first spent two years in Egypt, she’s in the middle of two years in Indonesia, and she’s going to Panama next. She started a project with her students to teach them how to be resourceful, and asked me to help write a story. I wrote the first part under my sister’s guidance, but then took ideas from the children for the next two parts. Here’s what we came up with together, starting with an introduction for the kids.




Introduction
Hello! My name is Nick Fisherman, and I'm working hard to be an author. You don't know me, but my sister, Ms. Megan works at your school. I'm having a little trouble finishing my latest story, so maybe you can help me. Here's how it begins:

Part I
Captain PRIS has the ability to learn any skill, as long as he keeps trying and never gives up. One day, he and Little Suzie travel with her classmates on a boat to Coconut Island. The two of them are busy learning about the different kinds of rocks on one side of the island, and they miss the boat to go back home. “Oh, no!” Suzie cries. “We don't have any food! And we can't just drink water from the ocean because it's too salty! What are we going to do?”

“Don't worry,” Captain PRIS replies. “Everything we need should be on this island. We just need persevere, and be resourceful.”

Segue
What can Little Suzie and Captain PRIS do for food and water?

Part II
“I have an idea!” Little Suzie says excitedly when she notices a group of monkeys in the trees nearby. She walks towards the monkeys and listens to them. After only a few minutes, Little Suzie has learned enough of their monkey language to speak to them. She asks them politely if they could climb the trees and drop down some coconuts for them. Coconuts are a good to eat, and there’s also fresh water inside.

“Good idea!” Captain PRIS says back to her. “We still need a way out of here,” he says to himself. He looks up and sees birds flying overhead. Then he gets an idea of his own. “Hey, Little Suzie! Could you ask the monkeys to drop down some palm leaves too?”

Segue
What will Captain PRIS and Little Suzie do next?

Part III
Little Suzie listens to the birds as they fly overhead. Like with the monkeys before, she quickly learns how to speak Bird. She uses her new skills to ask the birds how it’s possible for them to fly. Using this new understanding of flight, they weave the palm leaves and tie them to their arms. They fly off the island, and start the long journey back to the mainland. “My arms are getting too tired!” Little Suzie yells over to Captain PRIS after a while.

“I’m getting tired as well!” Captain PRIS yells back. “It will take us a lot longer to get home, but I know where we can find a boat!” The two resourceful friends change direction and, instead of flying towards home, they head for Shipwreck Island. Once there, Captain PRIS says, “we need to figure out how to build a boat that floats out of all of these wrecked ships.”

Little Suzie searches amongst the many boat wrecks and eventually finds books that tell them how to build boats. They tear off parts of the old boats that are still useful, and put them back together to build a brand new boat. They then sail off back home, and have a great story to tell all of their friends.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 28, 2052

Horace Reaver returned to Mateo’s cell a few hours past midnight and pulled up a chair. He nodded to Gilbert’s body. “He was about your age you know. Rather, he was about a year younger than you would have been were it not for the choosing ones. And today would have been his birthday.” He laughed less menacingly than he normally did. “Sixty-five. He was one day from retirement before his death.”
“You’ve never killed anyone, far as I know.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ve caused a lot of pain. We met a woman whose brother died working for you. Lord knows how many times you’ve tried to kill me. In an alternate reality, you did kill Leona and my father.”
“So Leona told me. How interesting.”
Mateo continued, “but have you actually killed anyone? I mean, before Gilbert.”
“In this timeline?” Reaver rhetorically asked for clarification. He thought about it for a moment. “No, I haven’t.” He shifted his seat closer to the cell window. “Are you ready for a story?”
“No.”
“I wasn’t first thrust into this world when I was an adult, like you. I was literally born with it. At least, that’s what I’m guessing, because I do not remember a time without it. For as far back as my memories go, I’ve lived through each day, and then gone back to do it again. I first referred to the first time around as practice days, assuming that this was something everyone did. I legitimately believed that every single person on the planet was given a second chance at the day, ya know, to make things better. I just thought that that was how physics worked. Time repeating itself everyday made no less sense to me than the fact that the sun disappears every night.
“I discovered myself to be alone when I was pretty young by killing my mother, and finding her to have no memory of the event. I was an angry child, and having this...gift gave me a warped perspective. I can spend entire days doing what I want, to whomever I want, and no one will notice. I can kill others, I can kill myself, I can run around naked in Times Square. Had I the benefit of a normal timeline before this happened to me, I think I would been more stable. I would have been able to appreciate what it’s like for everyone else.” He leaned back to continue. “But the choosing ones wanted me from the start, thinking that to be the best way to activate me. They would later realize this was a terrible mistake, but we’ll get back to that.
“Once I realized that I was alone, I realized that I actually couldn’t be alone. There had to be someone else. The possibility of being the only one out of billions of people just didn’t add up. It was too statistically unlikely. I hunted for my counterpart by making a ruckus during what were now called Round Ones, and then doing nothing on the Round Twos. I finally found her after I stopped looking, and that’s when we met The Delegator. As it turns out, Ulinthra was nearly as violent as I was, using Round One to commit horrible atrocities. It took us awhile, but we figured out how to switch gears and become heroes. We saved a lot of lives. I’m not lying about this, I promise that it happened.
“One day, we were pulling people out of a forest fire,” he sort of trailed off and looked to the side, “which is sort of ironic, when you think about it. Two of the men there were Allen and Richard, a married couple on a camping trip. Ulinthra fell in love with them, and they fell in love with her. Group marriage being illegal, she had to marry into the family unofficially. We read them into our situation, and they began to help us.” He stared into space with wonder. “It was magnificent. We were quite a team, and we had yet one more member to bring into our ranks. My love. I met her when I was a thirteen-year-old with a stomach flu bad enough to need a hospital visit. We got to talking and hit it off, but she was a couple years older, so nothing came of it. That age difference was, of course, meaningless as adults, and I ended up marrying her.
“Despite the death of one of Ulinthra’s husbands, we continued our good works. I was happily married, and even had a daughter. Things were going well. We met another salmon. He seemed like a pretty cool guy, but he wasn’t around all that much. He helped us when he was available. Then he fucked up. He made a mistake that cost the life of my love. I murdered him in a fit of rage, but I didn’t stop there. I killed Ulinthra and Richard, I killed everyone I could get my hands on. I began to rampage across the city, and I don’t mean during Round One; I did this when the consequences were real. I did this when there was no going back. Death was final.” He took a drink of water. “Obviously, the authorities caught up with me and sent me to prison. While I was in solitary for having killed three other inmates, my daughter made an appearance. She was much older than she should have been, and I knew that she was just like me. Well, she wasn’t just like me. She was a choosing one. She broke a rule. You see, relatives are a conflict of interest, and so the choosing one who chooses what you do has to be unrelated, but that doesn’t mean your relative has no power over you.
“She sent me back in time, into my younger body. But not one day, no. She sent me all the way back to when I was a teenager, breaking my pattern. She was trying to give me a chance to try it all over again; to do it right. The other choosing ones allowed this to happen, but it had to come with consequences. There had to be some punishment, and it had to be ironic. I wasn’t sick this time around, and so my mother refused to drive me to the hospital. I desperately rode across the city on my bike, but I was late. The love of my life was already in the middle of a conversation with someone else. But not just anyone else. It was the man who had caused her death in the alternate timeline. I held back because, my God, he was twelve years older than her. Surely that would lead to nothing, and I would be able to make my move. Unfortunately, she was smitten; in love with a much older man. And as luck would have it, she would be able to age much faster. Knowing this, she ignored my advances. I bet she never told you that. I tried wooing her for years. I already knew everything about her; what movies she would like, what kind of chocolates were her favorite, but nothing worked.”
The picture was becoming clearer, but Mateo respected Reaver’s story and remained silent.
Reaver lowered his head and watched the floor stand still. “She was lost to me. It was like watching her die all over again.” He looked back up to Mateo, tears in his eyes. “She was in love with you. The mother of my child, the one who kept me sane, kept me from killing. She was in love with the man who had killed her. And she had no goddamn idea, so I couldn’t blame her. I shouldn’t have blamed you either, but I did. You’re not a bad person, Mateo, and I know this. But given the right circumstances, you would easily screw up again and lead Leona to her death. I had to find a way to stop you. Using my knowledge of the future, I built a conglomerate, tackling scientific advances before anyone thought possible. I thought I could sway her with my money, but that’s too simplistic. Of course it didn’t work. I was growing angrier by the minute, waiting for you to return to the timeline. Keep in mind that time moves twice as slow for me as it does for others. This meant a lot of scenarios where I drop your body to the ground, tumbling through my mind over and over again. All my attempts not only failed, but they also pushed Leona deeper into your arms. I was just making things worse. You know the rest. I devised a plan to kill Leona, only so that our daughter would appear once more and give me a third chance. I didn’t want to hurt her; I just wanted her back.”
Mateo stood up from the floor and placed his hand on the window somewhat affectionately. “I’m sorry, Horace.”

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Reavers Wobble: Bridelope (Part II)

It took a month or two...or fifteen, along with several free Round One therapy sessions, but Horace and Ulinthra were able to change their ways. They didn’t start saving lives right away, but they were able to move past their need to cause death, destruction, and mayhem.
The two of them moved to Howell, New Jersey. This put them in the center of the action. They were about an hour away from each of Camden, New Jersey; Atlantic City, New Jersey; Chester, Pennsylvania; and Wilmington, Delaware. These were four of the most dangerous cities in the country. They also lived about an hour from New York City which had its fair share of dangers. They developed and perfected a system of absorbing all news in the area during Round One. Once the day restarted, they were not able to take their notes back with them, and so they also had to learn memorization techniques. They became quite excellent at it. There were whispers of two vigilantes running around stopping murders and thwarting terrorist plots, but those subsided as they learned how to stay hidden and cover their tracks.
They came to be known as The Rewinders amongst other people who did not live through time properly. These other time travelers called themselves salmon, and they all had their own patterns and missions. There were even some other couples. Horace and Ulinthra tried to form a romantic bond, but this proved to be ill-advised. Their relationship was a distraction from their responsibilities, and the more years that passed, the more committed they grew to their pattern. Ulinthra fell in love with two people whose lives she had once saved. She ended up marrying into the family unofficially, but not before they joined the team. Now they were able to dole out assignments and increase their reach; be in many places at once.
As luck would have it, Horace ran into a woman from his home town of Topeka, Kansas. They had encountered each other once in a hospital, but were both very young, and nothing came of it. They considered it fate that they both chose to live in the same new city later on in their lives. Today was their wedding day.
“Are you nervous?” Ulinthra asked as she was adjusting his bowtie.
“Are you a cliché?” Horace asked back.
She playfully slapped him across the shoulder, “shut up. I’m serious.”
“Happiest day of my life.”
“It’s supposed to be her happiest day.”
“Can’t be mine too?”
She lowered her demeanor. “Not when you’ve already been through this day.”
“I didn’t get married when we first went through the day. You remember what we did instead?”
“Yes, we said we weren’t going to talk about it.”
“It was nostalgia,” Horace said, pulling away from her to dress himself on his own.
“We shouldn’t have done it. It’s sick.”
“We used to do it all the time.”
“Yeah, separately, and we were severely messed up for it. If my husbands and your fiancée ever found out—”
“Don’t even talk like that. They have no idea who we are—who we were. They would leave us. Actually, they would likely call the cops. Sure, they would never be able to prove we hurt people in an alternate reality, but they would tell them how we “think” we live through an alternate reality, and that would probably be enough.”
“But you see, that’s just it. It’s not who we were. It’s who we are. We proved it yesterday, when we killed our loved ones in some disgusting ritualistic celebration.”
“It’s out of our system. We won’t do it again, I promise.”
I promise never to do it again,” Ulinthra proclaimed, “but I don’t trust that you won’t. You were always much worse than me.”
Horace reached back, preparing to strike Ulinthra, but was able to stop himself in time. “It’s not a contest. I killed my fiancée, and you killed your husbands. It’s over. It never happened, and we don’t have to worry about it.”
“You killed us yesterday?” Allen revealed himself.
“Allen, no, you don’t understand.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Ulinthra tried to play it down. “It’s not a big deal, honey.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Allen raised his voice. “What exactly did you do?”
“It’s just this...form of catharsis. We would never hurt you during Round Two. Could we please just forget it?”
“I’m not going to forget it. I asked you what you did exactly, now I want details!”
“You don’t want details. It’ll just make matters worse.”
“What happened, Ulinthra!” Allen screamed.
“We slit your throats,” Horace interjected. “It’s our...preferred method. Well, it was. We don’t do that anymore.”
“Except for yesterday,” Allen spat.
“Except for yesterday, yes. It was a mistake, and we’re sorry.” Horace sounded pretty sincere, but he knew in his heart that he wasn’t. It felt good to go back to the way things were when he was younger. As rewarding as it was to save people, it was nothing compared to the sweet relief of taking a life, knowing that he could return it the next day for a full refund.
“And you two used to do this all the time?”
Ulinthra nodded with shame. “Him more than me, but yeah.”
“No need to throw me under the bus.”
Allen tried to work through the revelation, but was struggling. “I...I have to tell Richard. I’m not saying we’ll leave you, but he has a right to know who he’s sharing a bed with.”
“I understand,” Ulinthra said.
“I don’t,” Horace said as Allen was trying to walk away.
“What?”
“Horace,” Ulinthra pleaded. “We have to let this play out. He has to do what he thinks is right.”
“I will not let you destroy what we have,” Horace insisted. “I’m going to get married today; on our one day off in, like, forever. And then tomorrow, she is going to continue helping us save the world. Richard too. If you don’t want to be a part of it anymore, then say the word, but the others can never know what we did yesterday, or what we did when we were kids.”
Allen put his hands on his hips indignantly. “Well, I don’t think that’s for you to decide. Now I’m definitely telling Richard, and I’m telling your fiancée too.”
Horace moved forward and took Allen’s arm forcefully. “Don’t do this, Allen.”
“Let him go, Horace. Remember, this is Round Two.”
“Oh, and if it was Round One, you would just go ahead and stab me?” Allen asked.
Horace smashed his fist against the side of Allen’s head, knocking him to the floor. “If this was Round One, we wouldn’t have to do a goddamn thing.”
“Horace, stop!” Ulinthra pulled at him, but wasn’t strong enough.
“I’m not going to stab you. It’s too messy.” Horace stepped on Allen’s neck and killed him.
“What did you do?” Ulinthra asked, tearing up.
“Do you want to help me hide the body?” He turned his head, but kept his eyes on Allen’s body. “Or do you want next?”
After stuffing Allen into a closet, Ulinthra and Horace left the changing room and proceeded to the assembly hall. Richard was waiting for them at the altar. “Where’s Allen?”
Horace shook his head. “I’m sorry. He really wanted to be here, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about the party boat that goes missing an hour from now. He went off to look for it.”
Richard smiled. “He always says that trouble never takes a day off.”
Once the bride was finished walking down the aisle, the officiant began the ceremony. He had few words of his own since the couple had a long set of vows to say. He skipped the part where he asks if anyone objected, and moved on to the good bit. “Leona Delaney, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” Leona said elatedly.
“And do you, Horace Reaver, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Horace repeated.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Microstory 205: New Measurements

I realize that I’ve mentioned a few what you must believe to be measurements, but are not completely sure. You see, my stories take place in a universe where such things are part of common knowledge, and very few people can act as “audience proxies”. I try to go over things, but at the same time, I want to organically bring them up, rather than just spell them out. If you were telling a story about Barack Obama, you wouldn’t first explain that Obama was the President of the United States of America between the common era years of 2009 to 2016. Everybody knows that...mostly. But since the secondary purpose of this site is to give you an introduction to my new world, I’m just going to go at it; in this case, giving you highlights of a fictional (or is it?) measurement system. The smallest positive unit of measurement is the yoem. It is equal to 2.442 millimeters. Multiply that by 10 and you get the deam which is 2.442 centimeters. Multiply by 10 and we have a sheam: 24.42 centimeters. Get the picture? Continue to multiply by 10 for a geara: 2.670603674541 yards (8.011811023623 feet); demra: 26.70603674541 yards (80.11811023623 feet); shemra: 267.0603674541 yards (801.1811023623 feet); and nayko: 2.442 kilometers (8,011.811023623 feet). That last one is what my characters use in place of a mile, and naykos per hour are informally referred to as neels. Units of mass follow a similar linguistic and mathematical structure starting with the yoemtra: 2.442 grams; deamtra: 0.86139 ounces; sheamtra (sheels): 0.538369 pounds; gearatra: 5.38369 pounds; demratra: 53.8369 pounds; shemratra: 538.369 pounds; and naykotra: 2.691845 tons (5,383.69 pounds). So the next time someone asks you how tall you are and how much you weigh, after punching them in the face for being rude, you can say something like 7 sheaman and 24 gearatran. Oh yeah, by the way, if you want to pluralize something, you add -an to the end (or just -n if the singular ends in a vowel). Did you not already know that?