Things are very tense

... oops.

Oops? OOPS?!

Nothing! It's nothing!

No, you said oops! You. Said. OOPS. What did you do?

Nothing! Shut up! Look, it's fine, okay!

What did you DO? What happened?!

NOTHING, okay?! What- don't come over here!

What did you do? What went wrong? Where is it?

Nothing, nothing, nothing! Alright? Nothing! It's fine! Everything's fine!

No, it is not all fine. If it was all fine, you wouldn't have said oops!

Well, I didn't, okay? I don't know what you heard! I didn't say oops, nothing is wrong, everything is FINE!

I swear to god, if you did something, and everything goes wrong...

NOTHING will go wrong, okay? OKAY?!

I don't believe you, but I have to get back to my station.

Whatever! Just go already.

I swear, you're going to kill us all someday...

Look, shut up! Just... shut up, okay? Shut. Up.

Colder than an unfired bullet

It was a cold game, this game of sniping. Nothing but crawling around, guessing where the other is at, hoping to remain unseen yourself, and taking a single shot before scurrying away hastily. Sometimes you would throw a rock and try to get the other to reveal their position by drawing their fire there, and tracking their fire back. Sometimes, you have no doubt, they would do the same. Round and round you sneak, hoping sometimes to surprise them from the side, from behind, from anywhere at all, only to catch them unawares and unshielded. Other times, you can barely stand it, and fire off a shot at every noise, real or imagined. You would be hungry, if your stomach could unknot itself at all. Your whole body is taut as a guitar string, and aches for it. All this, and yet you dare not rest, for death would surely come upon you the moment you closed your eyes.

It would seem, at first blush

Oh, come on, stop being such a weenie about this.

But I look ridiculous!

Oh for... no you don't.

I do too.

Okay, well, yeah, you do. But it's an adorable ridiculousness.

...

Now, see, when you blush like that, it's just even more adorable.

You're not making this any easier, you know.

I can't help it if you're being all cute now! If anything, that just makes me want to get you out and show you off all the more!

Nooo!

Yes, and stop arguing. You'll be fine.

Arrgh... alright. Let me finish getting my shoes on.

That's the spirit!

This could happen everyday and you wouldn't get tired of it

The smells of the soup came up at him in a cloud of steam as he lifted off the lid of the pot. It was a mix of spices, vegetables, and something else, something he couldn't put his finger on but it made his mouth water in such a way that he didn't really care. He ladled out a bowlful, sprinkled a little bit of grated cheese on top, and helped himself to another hunk of bread. Fresh, and warm, it made his mouth water just as much as the soup did. Once he got seated again, he freshened his glass of wine, then took a moment to just wallow in the simple pleasure of a good, a really good meal.

With the very best intentions

Do you GET it? Do you get what I'm trying to do here?

I... I... but...

Because I don't think you DO. I think you still have some misconceptions about what is going on here.

You... you can't...

DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO. DON'T.

Aah!

... yes. Well. You are going to listen now, and you are going to remember what I am going to say. Most importantly, you are going to UNDERSTAND. Do you hear me?

I... yes! Yes, I hear you!

... good. Because I would hate to think that after all is said and done, you had the wrong idea about what caused all this. You need to know that things happened the way they did because in truth... in honesty... there could be no OTHER way they could have turned out.

I... I'm listening... haaah...

Good... that's good... I'm glad to have your undivided attention. So. From the beginning...

Mister Rostrum

The robot didn't say much, and didn't draw any attention to itself. It just quietly did its duties, working through lunch until the end of the day, when it cleaned up its desk and went home. It didn't turn on the radio when it got in the car, its expression didn't change when someone cut it off in traffic, and it maintained an adequate space cushion at all times. When it got home, it changed out of its work clothes and promptly went to sleep.

In the morning, the robot got up, got dressed, and got to work. As it was walking back to its desk from the copier, it was greeted by a coworker who paused long enough to ask it if that was a new haircut. The robot shook its head, not mentioning that it hadn't changed it's look in the seven years since it had been hired.

Look where I'm going

Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god. Are you okay?

I... oog... I think s- augh!

Yaa!

... um. Maybe. I'm just going to stay down for a bit.

You, uh, er, yeah.

What happened, anyway? You came out of nowhere!

I don't know, I was just running down this way, and next thing I knew, you were there in front of me.

Huh. Weird. Okay, gimme a hand, I'm going to try getting up again.

Are you sure? I mean, maybe you should-

HURK!

Aaah!

Haaghk... ghk... okay... maybe i should... i should...

Oh god! Oh god oh god oh god!

what? what's... wha-?

Oh god, there's so much blood... hold still! Don't move, okay? Don't move again. Just- just hold still.

urgh... oogh...

Help! HELP! Somebody! Please! PLEASE, HELP! HELP!!

Out of time and out of keys

You find yourself surrounded by a half dozen figures. While this is never a particularly good situation to be in, it isn't helped any by the arm you broke when you smashed through the doors. You've been nursing it as you've made your way from room to room, trying to find the way down to the cellars and the holding cells, but from the way it's been sending lightning bolts of pain up through your shoulder you can tell it's not going to feel any better this month.

You manage to take down the first couple of attackers with kicks, one to the sternum, one to the throat, but it still hurts. It's not easy keeping your balance and your defenses up while holding your arm still, so when the pain rips its way out of your throat, you do your best to disguise it as a battle-cry. You don't know if the remaining attackers believe it, but since you've just kicked someone in the groin so hard that there was an audible crack.

You think you're going to actually make it through with nothing worse than the overpowering need to vomit from the pain when the last guy manages to break a knife out of a display case.

"... well, shit."

Speechless Speech

Oh... man.

... whoa.

That was... was...

Yeah...

I mean, it just...

And then when it...

But the part where it...

I know! I mean... WHOA!

I get you, man, I get you.

You know what?

What?

I don't even want to see it again. Like, that would just cheapen it.

No, yeah, I understand. Any more, and... it would just fall apart.

But as it is...

Yeah, as it is...

Wow.

Whoa.

It's the little touches

Mustard mustard mustard... Trevor was really looking forward to this sandwich. Reaching over the dragon, he got the mustard out of the fridge, and made his way back to the counter where the rest of the ingredients were already laid out. Slicing off a piece of cheese and dodging a dagger that had been thrown at him, he set to work constructing some culinary art worth eating.

Almost done, he thought, nibbling on a scrap of meat, so what's missing? It took a moment of puzzling on his part, but then it struck him like a bolt from the blue. An explosion distantly rumbled. If this was toasted, just a little bit... mm! Trevor started looking for a frying pan as a man across the room started bellowing and running.

Home can be the tenderest place

...and that's why- what are you looking at?

Your eyes. They're lovely, you know.

Yes, dear. You tell me every night.

They're so... warm. I could stare in to them all night.

As much as I'd love to let you, I need to sleep at some point, you know.

I know, I know... doesn't mean I can't enjoy them while I can, though.

Of course not, dear, I wouldn't dream of stopping you.

Mmmm...

Mmm... I love you too, dear.

The time is 2:07 in the morning

Where have you been?

What? Nowhere. Why do you ask?

I ask because you've been somewhere. And don't say nowhere again.

Look, I was just out, okay? It doesn't matter.

It does matter! Just- just tell me, okay?

No, I'm not going to- look, let it go, okay? How about you? How have you been?

Miserable.

...

What? I have.

Well... that's... uh...

I worry about you, don't you get it?!

But-

When you just disappear like that, I don't know what you're doing! Where you go! IF YOU'LL EVER COME BACK!

I... I never-

Don't say you never knew! Don't you dare!

Running like clockwork

It took him 20 minutes to break into the house.

It took him 7 minutes to locate the hidden safe.

It took him 3 minutes to disarm the security.

It took him 6 crack the safe.

It took him 45 seconds to clear it out and lock it back up.

It took him 24 minutes to get out of the house, since the dogs had come around.

It took him 3 days to pawn everything.

It took him another 2 days to be found by the owner of the safe.

It took him 8 years, 5 months, 1 week, 4 days, 16 hours, and 34 minutes to go insane.

It took him 37 years to die.

Summer straggler

When all you want is to lie back and let it wash over you

Betty is exhausted when she comes in. It would be crass hyperbole to say that every muscle ached, but enough of them did to make her move slowly as she crossed the room to the couch. She collapses face down, takes a moment to think it over, and voices her thoughts of the day with a succinct groan in to the cushion.

After a few minutes of this, Betty has worked up enough energy to flip over and face the world again. Or the ceiling, any way.

There were still things to do. She knows this. Dinner. Cleaning. All the usual humdrum. What really needed to be done, though, was thankfully something that could be done from right where she was. Thus, using up the last bit of the energy she was going to for the next two hours, Betty managed to get the remote, turn on the tv, and start the movie.

It occurs to her that things have gotten pretty bad if she can't even be bothered to make popcorn.

Shared moments and feelings

How much longer is this going to take?

Not much.

I have places to be, is all.

What is wrong with you? It's almost done already, relax.

I don't even see why I need to be here for this.

Are you serious? This is going to be the most important thing to happen this decade!

I notice you said "important" not "interesting".

God, fine, okay! Look, I just wanted you to be here to share this with me. Is that too much?

... you wanted me to be here?

... well... yeah.

...

...

I didn't know. I'm sorry.

It's nothing, alright? It's... it's almost over, anyway. You can go if you want.

No, no, I'll stay.

You will?

Yeah.

Cones versus cylinders

The magician and the wizard faced each other across the field. The battle had raged on longer than either of them had anticipated, but neither was willing to walk away. The wizard hadn't slept in 60 hours, and it was getting hard to concentrate on the syllables he needed. The magician hadn't eaten for days, and was beginning to feel so hollow he feared that the magic would fill in the void, and he'd heard stories about that...

The two paced each other around the clearing once again, being careful not to lose footing to any of the countless holes, rainbow-hued flames, puddles reflecting skies much different than the one above, hellish maws or jutting rocks.

The wizard was between a couple of the brighter fires when he decided he couldn't take it anymore. He knew it was a poor position to attack from, the light silhouetting him as a perfect target, but he knew if he didn't act now, he would pass out anyway. With all the volume he could muster, the wizard rasped the killing words one last time, and flung his hands out at the magician.

The magician, for his part, had been noting how little room he had to maneuver in the midst of a particularly tricky patch of puddles when he saw the wizard bring his hands up. With no other choice, the magician mustered up the last of his energies, and retaliated.

The field vanished in a flash of light.

The birds never sang in that part of the forest again.

Out of place

Less mutable than stone

Why? Why did you do it?

Because it needed to be done.

No! It didn't! It all could have been avoided!

Avoided? AVOIDED?!

It... it didn't have to come to this.

Shut up.

But-

Shut. Up.

I just-

NO. You don't get it, do you? It DID have to come to this. There WAS no other way it could have gone.

... I will never believe that.

It doesn't matter. Nothing can be changed now.

Maybe Summer Is Just Ending

For a while I thought I might be developing allergies, but now I think I just need to pluck my nose hairs more often. Honestly, I've been much less sneezy and stuffy since I brought out the tweezers.

Then again, this is a personal observation, so I may just be crazy.

Opinions should not be confused with criticisms

The book hit the ground with an unsatisfying flap. It was too thin to manage a thud, and too thick to be crumpled up or ripped apart in a timely fashion. Josh had thrown it anyway, hoping that perhaps if he threw it hard enough it would at least make a passable smack, but the pages had just spread a bit and slowed it down. So.

Flap.

Josh glowered in the general direction of the book from where he was lounging, wanting nothing more to do with it, but also unwilling to take the chance that if he left it where it had fallen, he would trip on it as he was leaving and crack his head open. That would just be like the unreadable sonuvabitch, too.

He was still lying on the couch as he tried to decide if it was worth it to move the book to the fireplace, or if he should just set the fire in the garbage can under the desk.

The stars are always there

Frequently Asked Questions

So, tell me... tell me about Crechy.

hugh... graw... fff... fuggof...

No. Now tell me about Crechy. Where does he get his orders?

Fuck. Off.

Where...

RRRRGHGRGHRG!!!

Does...

RRR-

He...

RGHRG-

Get...

RAAAUU-

His...

AAAAAUUGHGRHG-

Orders?

GHGHGHGHH!!!

I'll let you catch your breath, think it over for a second.

... haughaukkk...

That's it, take your time. No hurry.

From Simple Beginnings

The rocket came slamming down the gravity corridor, getting dangerously close to the moon (at least from a mathematical perspective) before pulling back on the throttle and easing in to land like a feather on the pad. All in all, it had taken less than a minute, which was still thirty seconds too slow. The tinstars had the ship surrounded, and were about to start flooding it with sleeping gas when all the airlocks exploded out. Three of them were too slow to get out of the way and were crushed by the flying doors, and the rest were left retching by the foul gas that had come billowing out once the ship was opened. Things only got worse when someone finally panicked and fired off a shot from their gun, and it was discovered that the gas was flammable...

And THEN, that's when the alien drones showed up. Of course.

Bragging Rights

I met him once, you know.

You don't say! What was he like?

Oh, atrocious. Absolutely horrible.

So, everything the gossip says about him, then?

And then some! I swear, it was like having a caricature in the house! Completely unreal.

Oh, I WISH I had been at that party! It must have been a scream.

Well, it was hard at the time, but for the next month simply EVERYONE was talking about it.

You don't mean... no, not THAT party?

Yes!

The one where everything burned to the ground?

The very same.

Ooh, I couldn't be more jealous right now, not for anything!

It was completely worth it, too.

Happy Workers

The trick to getting projects done is to throw yourself in to them, and just pick a place to start from. If you can actually start from where you've chosen, all is good. If you can't, well, you just have to adjust your starting point and work from there. Whichever the case, you work on the portion you've chosen, finish it, and move on to another area. If one thing is taking a long time to do, feel free to switch around, just to keep from getting bored. The point is, keep working, and eventually you'll be done.

Then again, this is a personal observation, so I may just be crazy.

Chapters

You bump into each other at the bookstore. You feel as if you should be awkward, uncomfortable, but really you just don't have anything to say. So instead of hums and haws, instead of stumbling conversation where neither one of you lets the other finish a sentence, the both of you just hold each other's gaze a little longer than anyone else would be comfortable with and go back to browsing the titles.

When you leave, you have two books you've read before but didn't own, three books you've been hunting for, and a numb place in your chest that doesn't even hurt.

Point of Order

"But what's the point?"

"The point is to avoid the point!"

"The point is to be pointless?"

"No, the point is to point out that there is a point."

"Without actually pointing out what the point is?"

"Right, just to point them in the right direction."

"I see your point."

"But what if they miss the point?"

"Then it's up to us to point that out to them."

"In fact, we should make a point of it."

"I just wish they could see it from our point of view."

"I know, they seem so dull sometimes. Some days, it just seems so pointless."

"Painful."

"Persistent."

"Yet we persevere."

"But what's the point?"

Ye Auld Anglishe

I have tried to read the Canterbury Tales by Chaucer before, but that was years ago. I am learning again, what I learned then, that the best way to approach the material is with a running start, and to not allow yourself to slow down. The way it is written is very phonetic, and if you ignore the words on the page and just listen to the sound of your voice, you can make much better sense of everything.

Then again, this is a personal observation, so I may just be crazy.

The spurs of a moment are sharp and hooked

You are there when it happens, although you do not realize it at the time. All you know is that you are trying to get to the stop before the bus pulls away, when suddenly from behind you there is a sound like every door in the city being slammed at the same time. You are stunned by it, and worse, caught in midstep. You come down on your foot wrong, and twist your ankle.

As your leg buckles under you and the ground rises up, your first thought is that there is no way you will be able to make the bus now, and the last is that the sky looks far, far too red.