Microstory 305: Food for Survival

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Potable Water

There’s a huge movement in this country for the implementation of healthier eating. That’s a great thing, and I applaud anyone for making improvements in their dietary habits, but I want to make sure it doesn’t take away from another global issue: hunger. There are people in this world who are not able to find food in the first place. You probably, at one point, said that you were starving, but you probably don’t understand the full extent of what that means. That’s okay; I’m not the semantics police, and I’m not here to tell you that your so-called “first world problems” will never be relevant until massive world problems are solved. Just always be aware of what’s going on in the world around you, and don’t take your life or your resources for granted. For some people, it doesn’t matter what they eat. They don’t care about carbohydrates, or sugars. They’re not counting points or buying organic. They’re just eating what they can. Like water, food is a vital component of survival. Food gives us the nutrition we need to maintain homeostasis, generate energy, and perpetuate organ function. But there is something to the act of eating itself that keeps us going. And I don’t mean psychologically. As you eat, your stomach stretches out, and tells your brain that that’s enough. This is why we can’t so easily pack all our daily requirements into oral supplements or intravenous solutions. If you ever find yourself lost in the wilderness, with no food, you might have to find some. Do research now on how to conduct an edibility test, so that you never know what it’s like to experience true hunger. It takes awhile, but you can never be too careful. If you don't have time for an edibility test, you don't have time to live.

Clothing for Protection

Microstory 304: Potable Water

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Rain

There isn’t really anything to water, except for the water itself. If you ever drink plain water that has something else in it, it’s probably not supposed to be there. In certain parts of the developed world, the water you drink is treated with chemicals to kill off microorganisms that could harm your body. Many places also add fluorine compounds to clean your teeth. But other than that, it’s just water. So what’s the point of it? Why do we need it? Well, all living organisms evolve to utilize water in some way that promotes the survival of individuals, and the species as a whole. First and foremost, water is a distributor. It passes nutrients between cells so they can thrive, divide, and replicate. A great deal of blood is composed of water, which moves oxygen-carrying iron throughout the body. This oxygen generates energy, which allows the body to keep going. Water is a lubricant that keeps joints, the brain, and other organs from desiccating and dying. Water is used for temperature regulation, allowing heat to be released from the body via evaporation on the skin. Just like a computer, if you overheat, you’ll die, because your body functions won’t be able to keep up with themselves. Lastly, water creates fluids that allow waste products to leave the system. Organs like the kidneys and liver, process waste and toxins, but that’s useless if there’s no way for them to get rid of unwanted substances. Much of the developing world lacks potable water. If it exists, some have to walk for miles before finding it, and even then drinkable is a relative term. If you have access to clean and healthy water, and have the means, please research ways you can help a fellow living organism find water. It’s literally the most important thing ever.

Food for Survival

Microstory 303: Rain

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Ground

Rain is one of the greatest things this planet has to offer. I’m not going to sit here and tell you why rain is scientifically and biologically important, because you all know. This is how we get our fresh water, which is vital to life on Earth. Without the water cycle, we would all be sea creatures, and do you really want that? People have different perspectives for rain, depending on their circumstances. Those who live in colder climates aren’t going to like it as much, because rain makes it even colder than it was. People who live in hot, arid locations, however, are going to be thrilled when it rains. My sister used to work as an elementary music teacher in Egypt. She said that it would rain very rarely, but when it did, it was kind of a double-edged sword. The children absolutely loved it, due to its rarity, but the city was never prepared for it, because they did not design the streets with rain in mind. After all, why would you? When I was in middle school, we all went off to our local amusement park. I managed to ride only one attraction before a deluge began to fall. The other kids were bummed until they realized how much fun they could have splashing around. I considered it a godsend from the get-go, because I’m afraid of roller coasters, and didn’t want to be there anyway. Some of my best days have been during torrential rainstorms, including that one. Rain is a cleansing experience. People tend to try to get through storms as fast as possible, but if you ever get the opportunity, take the time to stand and admire a good downpour from right inside it. If you regret it, you don’t deserve a life of happiness anyway.

Potable Water

Microstory 302: Ground

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Atmosphere

Like the atmosphere, you obviously know that the ground is an important thing to have if you’re going to live a fulfilling life. But unlike the atmosphere, it’s easy to take for granted, because it’s extremely abundant in the universe. Or so it would seem. The truth is that the cosmos is composed of three things: dark energy at about 68%, dark matter at about 27%, and regular matter (i.e. the stuff you can see and feel) at less than 5%. Despite your world being seemingly nothing but atoms, it’s one of the rarest things around. Most importantly to you, however, is what the ground can do. Rocks and minerals can be manipulated and transformed into various shapes. They can be used for obvious things like tools, machines, and dwellings. But they’re also found in soap, energy production, and even foods. Soil as a whole is even more vital survival, as it’s what holds and feeds the planet’s plant life. These plants are able spread and propagate from the nutrients generated in minerals in the earth. Plants are eaten by other forms of life, which are often eaten by other living things, and so goes the circle of life. For when something dies, its body will decompose in the ground, irreversibly altering the composition of the soil, and creating further nutrients to keep the cycle moving. It’s very easy to appreciate plants and other living creatures for our sustenance, but they would not be able to survive without a ground to stand on, to feed off of, to hold water. All soil is new, and constantly changing as we interact with it. The next time you find yourself in nature, shove your hand in the dirt and let it filter through your fingers. It’s not dirty or gross. It’s a beautiful thing.

Rain

Microstory 301: Atmosphere

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There is no lack of planets in this universe. Why, in this galaxy alone, there are hundreds of billions of stars, with an average of between one and two planets each. Ten billion of these are supposed to be terrestrial, rather than gaseous like Jupiter. Out of these, not all would be composed of an atmosphere comparable to Earth’s. There are probably only about 500 million of those. But that doesn’t mean there should be 500 million kinds of aliens spinning around out there. Even though these planets are capable of sustaining life, they’re not necessarily capable of sustaining evolutionary life. You wouldn’t believe just how many things had to go right on this planet in order to make you a thing that exists. Humans have yet to quantify the unlikely circumstances. Temperature, gravity, pressure, gaseous composition, distance from the sun, solar size, and many more things had to line up perfectly to create life intelligent enough to write a list like that. There’s this argument called the Fermi Paradox which wonders why we’ve not encountered aliens, because there should be a lot of them. But that’s not a paradox. It’s a question. Just because you don’t know the answer to something, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. There are any number of explanations for why we feel so alone. And it all starts with our atmosphere. It has the perfect amount of oxygen to keep us breathing, and to stop insects from being terrifyingly gigantic. The way the wind moves determined the shape of this rock, and regulates our climate. The gaseous composition is vital to our survival. Change the ratios even by a little, and it spells disaster, which is actually what we’re going through right now. Next time you go outside, thank the atmosphere for keeping everything in place.

Ground

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 17, 2071

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They felt rested enough the following year that they decided to watch a few of their remaining films in real time; the ones that showed a little bit more technique. Neither of them were known for their dancing. Mateo didn’t enjoy it, and Leona’s life became wrapped up in salmon drama at such a young age that she gained little experience. After that was all over, they began to watch video tutorials for dancing online. They eventually made their way to a channel that showed them specific choreography they could use. Aura, Samsonite, and Theo had experience with old forms of dancing since it was expected out of socially accepted individuals back then. Together they came up with what they felt to be an interesting, albeit somewhat derivative dance number. Hopefully it would be good enough to keep Makarion happy, and disinclined to murder them.

As far as tribulations went, this was one of the easiest. They weren’t stressed about performing well, or being accurate, like with the others. They didn’t have to follow a storyboard very carefully, and they were not in any clear physical danger. Dancing so close together was awkward, though, since they still weren’t completely over their fight. To everyone else, it had been going on for years, but to them only days. They would need to find their way past it, but they didn’t know how to do that. Less than an hour from midnight, they deciding to start practicing again in an abandoned warehouse that was somehow very clean. Makarion had not indicated when they were actually going to perform for him, or where, or really under what conditions. It was possible he managed to gather an audience of thousands to watch them. He could apport them anywhere from here to Mars, at least. He might have been capable of traveling to other planets too, but there was no way to know his plans. It just wasn’t productive to let the anticipation get to them. The problem was, they were running out of time.

On the millionth run-through of the dance, things were going extremely well, despite them both messing up nearly every move. He dropped her once, and she stepped on his toes a couple of times. They were out of sync and out of order, but they were having fun. Choreography was great and all, but the improvisational skills they picked up from having been consumed with the art for the last two days were invaluable. Halfway through the bit, they tore themselves from the choreography and began to dance naturally, as if rehearsed, but with moves they had never tried before. Their eyes were locked, and their hearts connected. No one else was in the room. Literally. Their family had been there watching them, but suddenly disappeared. The music changed to a song they hadn’t been using, but Makarion was nowhere to be found. They were completely alone, and together. This music was slower and hypnotizing, causing them to lay their heads on each other’s shoulders. This was the part of the movie where feelings became real. Apparently that sort of thing wasn’t a creative contrivance. Music can really move you.

They hadn’t been listening to a vinyl record because, was that even possible in 2071? Yet, when the song was over, they could hear the distinct sound records made once at the end of the recording; static amidst consistent turning. They gently pulled their heads back and stared into each other’s eyes. Mateo was reminded of how and when he fell in love with her. She was just a kid when they met, so he had no feelings at the time. But he also hadn’t waited until she was his age and moving through time along with him. On April Fools’ day 2025, Leona’s birthday, Mateo was under quarantine. He had just traveled back from the future, a glitch in his pattern the likes of which has never been replicated without manipulation from a choosing one. Leona was still mad at him for having run away following the death of his father. And her anger only grew from him having never returned to the timestream in 2024, even though that wasn’t his fault. Looking back, she might have blamed herself for it. She helped designed the machine that was supposed to gather feedback from his time jumps, and they had always attributed that machine to his glitch. Did she feel responsible for what happened later?

This was the year Mateo killed his own mother from having brought a pathogen back from the future. But before they were aware that this happened, he was placed in a room covered in plastic sheeting in an attempt to prevent him from infecting others, not realizing that the damage had already been done. It was Leona’s birthday, and they celebrated it with his mother, Carol and their physicist friend, Duke Andrews. But there were times when Mateo and Leona were alone. A particular one of these times was when they were nearing the end of the night. They talked for hours without fear of being split apart at the strike of midnight. Throughout that time, much like during today’s dance rehearsal, only the two of them existed within reality. They didn’t talk about the things they had been through, or the people they had met. This was a deep and meaningful philosophical discussion about life, identity, and perspective. It was the only time Mateo felt on the same level as her, and capable of fully understanding what she was saying. They agreed on just about every point, but when they didn’t, they could still understand where the other was coming from.

Even while he was the one speaking, he really only had one thought. He didn’t want to ever lose her. In his head, he prayed to God and begged to the powers that be to keep the two of them together. That night, they did not kiss, or do anything else romantic for that matter. This wasn’t when they became boyfriend and girlfriend. It was the moment they became best friends. They did not yet know everything about each other, but they knew enough to know that nothing could keep them apart; not even time. A few years later, Leona would fall into his salmon pattern, but before they had any idea that this would happen, Mateo had already decided that she was his soulmate. If he stopped traveling through time millenia in the future—long after Leona was dead—and had the opportunity to settle down with someone, he knew he wouldn’t. She was the only one for him. Though he could not read her mind, he could see in her eyes that she was feeling the same way. Her attraction to him began years earlier, but it was only in 2025, inside quarantine sheeting, that their relationship could begin.

And now in the year 2071, those feelings were returning to them in full force. Again, they did not speak about what they were thinking. They just looked at each other telepathically, and an understanding formed between them. Mateo had been responsible for the death of two men. One of them was a friend who shouldn’t have been put in that position, and whose passing Mateo deeply regretted. The other was a powerful adversary who was making it his mission to make their lives hell. Regardless of their philosophical positions on life and death, Mateo had made the right call by pushing The Rogue towards the explosion. They couldn’t see him as a person, for he was an enemy combatant. And sometimes fighting, and even killing, was your only option. Standing here now in Mateo’s arms, Leona seemed to have finally resigned herself to this notion. What happened happened, and it was time to move on from it. They now faced a new enemy, and if they were going to survive him, they had to become a united front. It’s a cliché, but this really is war. The two met in a classy but passionate kiss, then they apologized to each other. The alarms on their watches rang out, indicating that they were near midnight. For whatever reason, Makarion never called upon them to perform the dance number. This tribulation was evidently over.”

They smiled at each other lovingly. “Will you marry me?”

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Second Stage of Something Started: Choice (Part I)

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A series of bizarre events occurred over the course of decades for the two time-traveling adventurers, Saga and Vearden. After their first transplanetary mission as salmon, they spent what they thought would be the rest of their lives on Earth, during two time periods in the past. For the second period, they turned out to be the parents of their resurrected friends, which was this whole thing that nobody expected. Throughout all this, both of them aged at a normal rate, so they were old people by the time The Delegator beckoned them back to his Stonehenge office. As soon as they passed through the doors, their bodies transformed and regressed back down to spring chickens. Now that might sound like a gift, but it meant that they were still beholden to the wishes of the powers that be; the ones who were manipulating and controlling them, along with other unwilling time travelers. If Saga and Vearden could be de-aged so easily, then there was a distinct possibility that they would be forced to carry out the powers’ wishes literally forever.

“I had hoped you would be finished with us,” Saga lamented.

“What would make you think that?” the Delegator asked.

“We just spent the majority of our lives with Sam & L,” Vearden explained. “Was half a lifetime not enough for you people?”

“I believe the powers that be considered that to be a vacation for you,” the Delegator said.

“They need a dictionary then.”

“We can’t fight it, Vearden,” Saga said before directing her attention to the Delegator. “Just tell us what we’re supposed to do.”

“Do you not remember? You’re The Freelancers. You get to choose.”

“Then we choose to go to the year 2030 so that we can be reunited with her son and my daughter,” Vearden put forth with a spark of hope that it might work.

“How do you know that that’s where they are?” The Delegator was confused. “They were moving towards the past.”

“When we were in the past,” Saga began, “we did not encounter any other salmon. But we did when we were in the 21st century. That’s where all the action is. So you sent them back there. Go ahead and try to tell me I’m wrong.”

“No, you’re right, that’s where they are. I still find it interesting that you intuited that. But I’m afraid I can’t so much as tell you if you joining up with them is an option,” the Delegator said honestly. He gently waved his arm to the stone openings around him. Stonehenge was more complete at this point in time, whenever it was. All the stones were set up where they belonged. But through each doorway was a bridge to a unique scene. Some portals were of modern day, some of greenery, and some appeared to be alien planets.

“Oh right,” Vearden scoffed. “This is about our choice.” He used air quotes.

“Have you ever seen that show where—”

Saga interrupted him, “you get television reception out here?”

The Delegator ignored her and continued, “...that television show where hopeful buyers stand in front of a self-storage unit belonging to someone who failed to make their payments?”

“No, but I am aware of what you’re talking about. It’s an auction.”

“Right, well the game is that bidders are only allowed to see the contents of the unit for a few minutes before deciding whether they want any of it.”

“Are you developing an analogy between junk so useless that the original owners abandoned it, and our next harrowing mission?”

“Well when you say it like that,” the Delegator said with frustration, “you can make anything sound ri-goddamn-diculous.”

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the cold stone table he most likely sleeps on.”

“It’s just that I had this whole speech planned about your destiny, but you ruined it with your attitude,” the Delegator said grumpily.

Saga and Vearden looked at each other telepathically. She sort of rolled her eyes, but more like a mother for an unruly child, and less sarcastically. “We’re sorry. You can give your speech. We promise to listen and respect you. You are valuable to us.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet. But the moment has passed, and we just need to move on. Literally.” The Delegator pointed to the stone doorways again. “Take your pick. I sincerely don’t know where they lead. I can’t even be sure they’re not random moments.”

They began to walk around the perimeter to get a better view of each one. Before them were twenty-eight choices, and none of them looked better than any of the others. They discussed a bit what they were looking for in an environment, since that’s all they had to go on. They were rather tired of the past, even though that’s where they raised their children. Not having access to running water was a massive bitch. More than that, though, Saga had no interest in traveling to an alien planet. Vearden, on the other hand, always felt the best Doctor Who episodes involved them. The last time they encountered aliens, they didn’t have the best time, but after all they had been through, it was barely a footnote in their lives; one they had all but forgotten. Decisions, decisions.

“I like this one,” Vearden said. “About as much as a guy can like a place he’s never been to and knows nothing about.”

“You just want to have sex with a green-skinned alien,” Saga complained. “Like Star Trek.”

“You don’t?”

“This one looks nice.” Saga presented the doorway like a model on a game show.

“You just want to take a picture of the pyramids as they were being built.”

“You don’t?”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Vearden suggested.

“We’re not children anymore.”

“I’ll allow it,” the Delegator said, then added, “but if you end up in a tie, then I get to choose.”

“We’re supposed to be the ones to chose.”

The Delegator smiled slyly. “Yes, but you’re not choosing. You’re letting fate decide. I am fate’s emissary.”

The two friends who were supposed to be partners, and always be working together, looked to each other for answers.

“Unless you can come to a consensus.”

“Deal,” Vearden said.

“Vearden,” Saga whined.

“We’re never going to agree.” Vearden placed his hands in the ready position.

Saga placed hers at the ready as well. “I guess we’re doing this.”

The door-walking Freelancers reluctantly stepped through a portal chosen by the Delegator. Saga was sure that she had chosen rock, but her hand had somehow ended up in paper. How did that happen? In the end, she was forced to shake it off, for she had realized where they were. The image shown before made it just look like a stone passageway. It was only after walking through and gaining perspective that they could see things for what they really were. The architecture had fallen apart, but appeared to be at least partially restored.

A man they did not recognize teleported in front of them and offered his hand. “Welcome...” he paused for effect before continuing, “to The Colosseum.”

“What are we doing here?”

“I wanted you to see the original version of what you’re going to be building for me. Well...I suppose it’s not the original, but I’m just a lowly jumper, so I can’t take you to Ancient Rome.”

“Why are we building it if it already exists?”

“This one’s fallen apart! I need a new one.” He finally took his hand back, confident that no one was going to shake it. “And I need it built far enough away from people that they won’t bug me about it.”

“Why would the Delegator want us to do this for you?”

“I have nothing to do with the Delegator.” He curtsied. “My name is Makarion.”

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Microstory 300: Stepwisdom (Introduction)

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Welp, here’s the deal. As I was nearing my one hundredth microstory, I started thinking about how much staying power these things have. How easy would it be for me to come up with an original story day after day after day? I realized that I had about a hundred characters already lined up in my Anomalies story since I’ve been working on it since 2007, so why don’t I just spend a hundred weekdays on that? That came with its own problems. I did already have an idea of who these people were, but at the same time, I had to worry about stepping on my own toes, and creating a need for retconning later on, because I intend to release their story in longer format, at some point (::cough::TV series::cough::). But what was annoying is that there are around 260 weekdays a year, and I had only started to do this thing in March, and so I had a couple dozen slots left over for December. For the website, that’s whatever, but when I publish these in book form, I want to keep them in neat, yearly volumes. That meant I couldn’t do something special for 200-299. So I came up with Perspectives to fill in the gap through 299, and here we are. This paragraph has 300 words exactly, and each subsequent installment will have a word count of one more each time. You’ll start seeing more connections as we go. I’m writing this one even before starting my first Perspective, and wanted to get even further ahead, but that didn’t work out. I’m still trying to figure out how to accomplish this through revising, snipping, adding, and whatnot. Fortunately, I’ve discovered a live word count add-on so that I don’t have to keep track as I

Atmosphere