The Holidays are normally seen as a time to give thanks and be with family and I suppose that I am no different. I am a fan of tradition. The last two Christmas's have been a little hard for me because all of my tradition lies in a storage unit in Austin, TX, so, I have been trying very hard to either create new traditions or accept the traditions of my wife's family.
Hopefully in the next few months I will be able to fly to Austin and move my traditions to California so I will be all set for the 2013 Holiday season.
For me, tradition is held in objects from my past as well as sentimental ornaments and nick-knacks from when my son was just a little tyke.
I like the Christmas music from when I was a kid like Bing Crosby, Andy Williams, etc... But also find that I am leaning more towards some of the more contemporary music as well, like what you would find on XM's Holly.
Since moving from Austin back to California I have felt a little out of sorts as far as Christmas traditions go. I literally have 6 huge boxes full of Christmas stuff. All Santa related not religious at all; being an Atheist.
I do like Christmas time, however, and I like to share it with family and watch the kids open their presents on Christmas Eve and Day. I like the food and libations that go along with it as well.
Now that we are in a much bigger house I am hoping that this year will be better and will feel more like Christmas than last year. The tree is up and the presents are under it. The stockings are hung on the chimney with care and we have a lot of them on there as we are the Matriarchal Home for holiday festivities.
Any way, Happy Holidays to everyone!!
Dawg
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
"Red" - An Alternate Telling of a Classic Tale
An Alternate Telling of the Classic "Red Riding Hood"
The night air felt clean and brisk as Red ran through the woods, ducking under low hanging branches as she made her way to the clearing. Shadows abounded in this part of the woods; even the light of day had trouble penetrating the canopy of thick tree tops. Her superior, supernatural vision enhanced her ability to make her way through the dense woods. Red's heart raced as she felt a sudden surge of energy as she approached the clearing, her thoughts drifted to her beloved.
As Red entered the clearing, jumping over fallen brambles and trees, she could see Canis knelt down in the middle of the clearing; just his head visible over the tall grass and heather that covered the ground. She ran faster and leaped into the air, twisting and turning, and landing right beside him. She touched his shoulder and tried to look into his eyes. Canis's head hung low, eyes studying the dirt beneath him. He was gasping breath and clutching his left side.
"What is it, Hun?" She asked, checking him over with a cursory glance.
"Hunters," he said as he nodded over to the edge of the clearing behind him and to the right. "They shot me Red. Those mother fuckers! Silver shards this time."
She moved around to his other side and moved his hand away from the wound with her petite hand. The smoldering hole in his side was oozing thick, red blood; speckles of silver dust around the entry point smoked as it melted deeper into his flesh. Red pulled her shirt over her head and pressed it against the wound firmly. Canis cringed but kept his composure. She glanced back and focused on the area in the tree line that her love indicated and through her mind's eye she saw them approaching the clearing.
"Time to go, Baby," she stood up, topless; her nipples erect in the cold night air, and helped Canis to his feet. He stood a full four feet over her, even hunched over in pain. His powerful muscles rippling under the dark, matted fur that covered his body in Chronos Form; half human, half wolf. Red pulled at him to get moving, her dark crimson hair flowing behind her as they set out toward the opposite side of the clearing.
Luckily Red fed earlier this evening, but those hunters sound pretty good as a late night snack; Holy Blood is always the sweetest. She will have her revenge against those who sought to kill her chosen mate; the ones who perpetuated this merciless attack on her betrothed.
Now is not the time for revenge, she reminded herself. With renewed vigor, she assisted Canis out of the meadow and into the woods where it would be much harder for the hunters to track them. Even wounded, Canis was surprisingly agile and quick and they were lost in the forest in no time at all.
"Up here, darling," Red motioned up a tall, buff tree. "We can tend to that nasty hole in peace."
The two lovers scrambled up the tree about mid-way and braced themselves against the many outcroppings of branches. Canis let the pressure off of the wound and saw that it was not bleeding any longer; one of the benefits of being "supernatural." He handed the scarlet shirt back to Red who took it, and slipped the blood-soaked cloth over her body; the dark red liquid staining her pale skin.
"You'll be needing this." Red brought her wrist up to her mouth and tore at her skin with her extended fangs and offered it to Canis.
"No Red. I can't do that to you again."
"Nonsense, Lover. It is the only way to cleanse you of the silver. Do it baby, I'm a big girl." She pushed, once again, her bleeding wrist to Canis's mouth. Accepting her gift, he drank briefly, just enough to heal himself, then stopped.
"You need more darling..."
"No!" he realized that he was raising his voice as he looked down to the path and over the meadow in the distance, looking for anyone who might have heard him. He whispered, "No. I have had enough, now lick your wound and let's get out of here."
"Fine." Red licked her skin where it was bleeding and within seconds the laceration was completely healed. She rapidly made her way down to the forest floor, listening with her superior hearing for any sounds of a threat but found none. Canis was last, moving a little slower but with more life and spring in his step.
"Let's go home, Lover." Red turned on the path and ran off toward her cottage, a small hide-a-way deep in the forest and well away from any path. Her closest neighbor was a woodsman who lived about a mile away, but he rarely came out here anymore. Perhaps he was scared off by the howling that Canis liked to partake in when the moon was high and bright in the sky.
As they quickly made their way through the thick, dense overgrowth that made up the forest floor, they came upon the clearing where Red's house stood. It's gingerbread facade has all but faded in color, but was still solid looking; sturdy.
She started walking towards the door when a furry, clawed hand held her at the shoulder. She turned back to see her magnificent lover, his head hung low, fall to his knees. "Baby!" Red immediately knelt beside him, cradling his head in her arms. "What's wrong?"
"Something... other than silver..." Canis fell completely to the floor as his breathing became more shallow. Red could now see the pool of blood forming on the floor under him. She leaned over him to discover that the wound, once partially healed, has begun to fester and putrefy.
Magic... Red detested magic. Her long history as a potential subject of incantations has taught her that Magic was bad to be anywhere around. "Oh, Canis," she sighed "What have you done, lover?"
She dragged him up to the house and onto the porch. His wound was once again starting to smoke; brief little wisps of smoke at first but now a constant stream. With the door now opened, she pulled Canis into the cottage and onto the bed he had frequented many times.
Canis tried to settle into the familiar surroundings, but fever and pain made that difficult. He opened his eyes thinly enough to see Red scrambling around for medicine. Suddenly she stopped and sighed deeply. She straightened up and regained her composure then turned towards the bed.
"Okay Baby. You need to stay here and try not to go to sleep. I am going to find the Woodsman, his kind are nature's magicians... healing." She knelt down and gave Canis a long, deep, passionate kiss on his perfect lips. She kissed his earlobe and whispered, "I love you, Canis."
As she got up to leave, Canis grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. He reached up and grabbed her long, scarlet hair and pulled her down to him. Their lips met, once again, and she pressed herself against him, relishing in his warmth and reality. She bolted up and cocked her head at the very loud sound of an axe making good contact with a tree. "The Woodsman!! Maybe it's not too late..." Red started for the door, running her fingers along Canis's body as she went.
Once outside, another Thwack! This one louder... closer... from the left. Red turned and, in the moonlight and with her exceptional vision, saw a large man with a large, dark beard standing with a hand resting on his axe that was swung into the trunk of a pine tree. Why does he always heft his axe to wood at night?, she often wondered. He stood just on the edge of the clearing that Red's cottage was on.
"Please! Can you help me?" Red started for him as he easily pulled the axe from the tree and held it in both hands, separating him from her. "My love has been... Please. I know you can help me. You're a Woodsman, you can heal him..." Red dropped down to her knees as she reached him and slunk down, chin on her chest... sobbing.
"My child, what is wrong? Your husband you say? Sick?" The Woodsman let his arm down, away from his axe, and helped her to her feet. He was tall, almost seven feet tall to be exact. His frame was broad and stocky as his beard showed the earliest signs of graying. "Take me to him my child..."
She slowly stood, with the Woodsman's help, and turned towards the cottage, pulling the Woodsman along with her. She tried, in vain, to move faster but the Woodsman didn't seem to be in as big a hurry as her; or it was his lumbering form that made his progress slow. Either way, Red was getting angry.
Once to the cottage, Red opened the door and pulled the Woodsman inside. The Woodsman saw the wisps of smoke coming up from the pen wounds on Canis's side. "Oh... I... uh. I see." He stood there, stroking his beard and assessing the situation and environment, for a moment and then ran back outside to a small patch of green clover just outside off the entry path.
"What are you doing?" Red asked impatiently. She was really getting a little more than upset at his lackadaisical demeanor. "Canis is inside you daft..."
"Hush, child. Canis you say? Well little one, Canis needs medicine. This clover would do nicely for starters." He stood up and walked around the grounds, head hung low as he scanned the ground for his next ingredient. "What I need is..." He lifted his gaze up to the canopy and pointed, "mistletoe."
Red jumped, with lightning speed and grace, up the tree and over the branch and easily broke off the mistletoe and dropped it down to the Woodsman.
"Thank you, my child." He walked into the cottage and grabbed a large pot that was hanging on the wall by the fireplace. He handed it to Red and asked, "can you fill this up with water about half way to the top?"
Red grabbed the pot and ran down to the creek, filled the pot and ran back. The Woodsman had crushed the clover and mistletoe together and added some salt and sugar to the mix. He dumped it in the pot and hung the pot on the fireplace.
He walked over to Canis and placed his hand on his rapidly rising and falling chest. He cocked his head slightly, as if listening to something inaudible to anyone else. Squatting down, the Woodsman took a closer look at the wound. "Ah... I see now why you are in so much pain. Your kind does not do well with silver. I can help you but you will need to trust me, Canis."
Canis opened his eyes slightly, looking toward the deep, rugged voice that sounded so reassuring in his painful darkness. He saw the long, wild-haired head of a very large man as he tried to sit up. A large hand found his chest again and held him down.
"You will want to remain still, young one."
Canis, engulfed by agony and unconsciousness, fell still once again. His breathing still labored and rapid, like an injured dog. The Woodsman went over to the pot and stirred it once more as he leaned in and took in a long whiff of the pungent odor. "Almost ready."
Red paced back and forth in her kitchen, angry and worried; she felt so helpless, so worthless. It was hard for her because she was used to being able to do anything she wanted; she was a Vampire after all. It had been a very long time since she felt so unable to do anything. Trusting others was not her strong suit... Except for Canis. She trusted him the moment she saw and fell in love with him.
"Alright, the remedy is ready," The Woodsman took a ladle off of the wall and slid it into the mixture and poured it in a goblet that he found sitting on a nearby hutch, "I will need your help, Red."
Red went over to Canis and held him up as The Woodsman administered his medicine. Canis regained a little bit of consciousness, enough to drink and swallow. "Good... Good!" The Woodsman said heartily. He looked over and winked at Red. "I think he is going to be just fine."
Just then, loud sounds erupted from outside and splinters of wood exploded from the wall at Red's front door. Red ducked and pulled Canis off of the bed and onto the floor. The Woodsman just stood there, reaching into his pocket for something. He opened the door and walked out, saying "Whoa there, men! What are you doing? Have I offended you somehow? I beg you to leave and take your drunken revelry somewhere else!" He shut the door behind him, sealing Red and Canis off from the conversation.
"You are harboring monsters, mister!" One of the men shouted.
"I assure you that I am no more harboring monsters as you are raising little monsters."
The men looked confused and glanced at each other nervously. "Hand over the demons and we won't hurt you, Woodsman!"
The Woodsman laughed heartily, "Hurt me you say? Little men, leave now before you are not able to leave on your own accord." His eyes widened as he took a very confident step forward, causing the men to step back. He raised his hands and a wind started to blow around the cottage, stirring up dust and leaves in the eyes of the mob of men.
The men stammered back, hands over their eyes. "What kind of magic is this Woodsman?"
"Come closer and find out! I am going back inside, when this gale dissipates I expect you to be gone or I will force you gone." With that the Woodsman went back inside.
Red was still administering the remedy to Canis while he lay on the floor. The smoking and bleeding had stopped and he sat up on his own. The Woodsman went over to Canis's side and and pulled out a mash of green moss and leaves from his pocket and dipped it into the remedy and offered it to him.
"Chew on this but don't swallow. Once the taste is too much to bear, spit it out. This will give you the energy to travel for a day." He got up and looked out the window, "The mob is still outside. I will take care of them while you two leave out the back. Go fast and go far. Good luck."
"I won't leave my home Woodsman! They will not force me out. I will deal with them now." Red got up but was forced back down by a very large hand from the Woodsman.
"Child, you can kill them but more will come. Their minds need to be changed and that will not happen this night. Go far away and don't look back. Trust me. You two will survive. If you love this creature, you will go... now!" He walked to the door, opened it, and went outside.
Red heard commotion and gunfire outside as well as trees falling and screaming. She got Canis up on his feet as he spat out the mossy concoction.
"My love are you..."
"I'm okay, Red. Let's go." Canis gave his love a kiss on her perfect lips as he leaned on his lover for support.
"Okay. I guess we must find a new life."
"As long you are with me, Red, we will be just fine."
The two left out the back and ran into the darkened woods. The sounds of uprooted trees, gale-force winds and gunfire dwindled as they ran farther and farther away. As they ran, ducking under branches, Canis slowed momentarily.
"Where should we go, Red?"
"Well, I have an old family friend; she is a Vampire, like me. I used to call her Grandmother..."
Word Count: 2664
As Red entered the clearing, jumping over fallen brambles and trees, she could see Canis knelt down in the middle of the clearing; just his head visible over the tall grass and heather that covered the ground. She ran faster and leaped into the air, twisting and turning, and landing right beside him. She touched his shoulder and tried to look into his eyes. Canis's head hung low, eyes studying the dirt beneath him. He was gasping breath and clutching his left side.
"What is it, Hun?" She asked, checking him over with a cursory glance.
"Hunters," he said as he nodded over to the edge of the clearing behind him and to the right. "They shot me Red. Those mother fuckers! Silver shards this time."
She moved around to his other side and moved his hand away from the wound with her petite hand. The smoldering hole in his side was oozing thick, red blood; speckles of silver dust around the entry point smoked as it melted deeper into his flesh. Red pulled her shirt over her head and pressed it against the wound firmly. Canis cringed but kept his composure. She glanced back and focused on the area in the tree line that her love indicated and through her mind's eye she saw them approaching the clearing.
"Time to go, Baby," she stood up, topless; her nipples erect in the cold night air, and helped Canis to his feet. He stood a full four feet over her, even hunched over in pain. His powerful muscles rippling under the dark, matted fur that covered his body in Chronos Form; half human, half wolf. Red pulled at him to get moving, her dark crimson hair flowing behind her as they set out toward the opposite side of the clearing.
Luckily Red fed earlier this evening, but those hunters sound pretty good as a late night snack; Holy Blood is always the sweetest. She will have her revenge against those who sought to kill her chosen mate; the ones who perpetuated this merciless attack on her betrothed.
Now is not the time for revenge, she reminded herself. With renewed vigor, she assisted Canis out of the meadow and into the woods where it would be much harder for the hunters to track them. Even wounded, Canis was surprisingly agile and quick and they were lost in the forest in no time at all.
"Up here, darling," Red motioned up a tall, buff tree. "We can tend to that nasty hole in peace."
The two lovers scrambled up the tree about mid-way and braced themselves against the many outcroppings of branches. Canis let the pressure off of the wound and saw that it was not bleeding any longer; one of the benefits of being "supernatural." He handed the scarlet shirt back to Red who took it, and slipped the blood-soaked cloth over her body; the dark red liquid staining her pale skin.
"You'll be needing this." Red brought her wrist up to her mouth and tore at her skin with her extended fangs and offered it to Canis.
"No Red. I can't do that to you again."
"Nonsense, Lover. It is the only way to cleanse you of the silver. Do it baby, I'm a big girl." She pushed, once again, her bleeding wrist to Canis's mouth. Accepting her gift, he drank briefly, just enough to heal himself, then stopped.
"You need more darling..."
"No!" he realized that he was raising his voice as he looked down to the path and over the meadow in the distance, looking for anyone who might have heard him. He whispered, "No. I have had enough, now lick your wound and let's get out of here."
"Fine." Red licked her skin where it was bleeding and within seconds the laceration was completely healed. She rapidly made her way down to the forest floor, listening with her superior hearing for any sounds of a threat but found none. Canis was last, moving a little slower but with more life and spring in his step.
"Let's go home, Lover." Red turned on the path and ran off toward her cottage, a small hide-a-way deep in the forest and well away from any path. Her closest neighbor was a woodsman who lived about a mile away, but he rarely came out here anymore. Perhaps he was scared off by the howling that Canis liked to partake in when the moon was high and bright in the sky.
As they quickly made their way through the thick, dense overgrowth that made up the forest floor, they came upon the clearing where Red's house stood. It's gingerbread facade has all but faded in color, but was still solid looking; sturdy.
She started walking towards the door when a furry, clawed hand held her at the shoulder. She turned back to see her magnificent lover, his head hung low, fall to his knees. "Baby!" Red immediately knelt beside him, cradling his head in her arms. "What's wrong?"
"Something... other than silver..." Canis fell completely to the floor as his breathing became more shallow. Red could now see the pool of blood forming on the floor under him. She leaned over him to discover that the wound, once partially healed, has begun to fester and putrefy.
Magic... Red detested magic. Her long history as a potential subject of incantations has taught her that Magic was bad to be anywhere around. "Oh, Canis," she sighed "What have you done, lover?"
She dragged him up to the house and onto the porch. His wound was once again starting to smoke; brief little wisps of smoke at first but now a constant stream. With the door now opened, she pulled Canis into the cottage and onto the bed he had frequented many times.
Canis tried to settle into the familiar surroundings, but fever and pain made that difficult. He opened his eyes thinly enough to see Red scrambling around for medicine. Suddenly she stopped and sighed deeply. She straightened up and regained her composure then turned towards the bed.
"Okay Baby. You need to stay here and try not to go to sleep. I am going to find the Woodsman, his kind are nature's magicians... healing." She knelt down and gave Canis a long, deep, passionate kiss on his perfect lips. She kissed his earlobe and whispered, "I love you, Canis."
As she got up to leave, Canis grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. He reached up and grabbed her long, scarlet hair and pulled her down to him. Their lips met, once again, and she pressed herself against him, relishing in his warmth and reality. She bolted up and cocked her head at the very loud sound of an axe making good contact with a tree. "The Woodsman!! Maybe it's not too late..." Red started for the door, running her fingers along Canis's body as she went.
Once outside, another Thwack! This one louder... closer... from the left. Red turned and, in the moonlight and with her exceptional vision, saw a large man with a large, dark beard standing with a hand resting on his axe that was swung into the trunk of a pine tree. Why does he always heft his axe to wood at night?, she often wondered. He stood just on the edge of the clearing that Red's cottage was on.
"Please! Can you help me?" Red started for him as he easily pulled the axe from the tree and held it in both hands, separating him from her. "My love has been... Please. I know you can help me. You're a Woodsman, you can heal him..." Red dropped down to her knees as she reached him and slunk down, chin on her chest... sobbing.
"My child, what is wrong? Your husband you say? Sick?" The Woodsman let his arm down, away from his axe, and helped her to her feet. He was tall, almost seven feet tall to be exact. His frame was broad and stocky as his beard showed the earliest signs of graying. "Take me to him my child..."
She slowly stood, with the Woodsman's help, and turned towards the cottage, pulling the Woodsman along with her. She tried, in vain, to move faster but the Woodsman didn't seem to be in as big a hurry as her; or it was his lumbering form that made his progress slow. Either way, Red was getting angry.
Once to the cottage, Red opened the door and pulled the Woodsman inside. The Woodsman saw the wisps of smoke coming up from the pen wounds on Canis's side. "Oh... I... uh. I see." He stood there, stroking his beard and assessing the situation and environment, for a moment and then ran back outside to a small patch of green clover just outside off the entry path.
"What are you doing?" Red asked impatiently. She was really getting a little more than upset at his lackadaisical demeanor. "Canis is inside you daft..."
"Hush, child. Canis you say? Well little one, Canis needs medicine. This clover would do nicely for starters." He stood up and walked around the grounds, head hung low as he scanned the ground for his next ingredient. "What I need is..." He lifted his gaze up to the canopy and pointed, "mistletoe."
Red jumped, with lightning speed and grace, up the tree and over the branch and easily broke off the mistletoe and dropped it down to the Woodsman.
"Thank you, my child." He walked into the cottage and grabbed a large pot that was hanging on the wall by the fireplace. He handed it to Red and asked, "can you fill this up with water about half way to the top?"
Red grabbed the pot and ran down to the creek, filled the pot and ran back. The Woodsman had crushed the clover and mistletoe together and added some salt and sugar to the mix. He dumped it in the pot and hung the pot on the fireplace.
He walked over to Canis and placed his hand on his rapidly rising and falling chest. He cocked his head slightly, as if listening to something inaudible to anyone else. Squatting down, the Woodsman took a closer look at the wound. "Ah... I see now why you are in so much pain. Your kind does not do well with silver. I can help you but you will need to trust me, Canis."
Canis opened his eyes slightly, looking toward the deep, rugged voice that sounded so reassuring in his painful darkness. He saw the long, wild-haired head of a very large man as he tried to sit up. A large hand found his chest again and held him down.
"You will want to remain still, young one."
Canis, engulfed by agony and unconsciousness, fell still once again. His breathing still labored and rapid, like an injured dog. The Woodsman went over to the pot and stirred it once more as he leaned in and took in a long whiff of the pungent odor. "Almost ready."
Red paced back and forth in her kitchen, angry and worried; she felt so helpless, so worthless. It was hard for her because she was used to being able to do anything she wanted; she was a Vampire after all. It had been a very long time since she felt so unable to do anything. Trusting others was not her strong suit... Except for Canis. She trusted him the moment she saw and fell in love with him.
"Alright, the remedy is ready," The Woodsman took a ladle off of the wall and slid it into the mixture and poured it in a goblet that he found sitting on a nearby hutch, "I will need your help, Red."
Red went over to Canis and held him up as The Woodsman administered his medicine. Canis regained a little bit of consciousness, enough to drink and swallow. "Good... Good!" The Woodsman said heartily. He looked over and winked at Red. "I think he is going to be just fine."
Just then, loud sounds erupted from outside and splinters of wood exploded from the wall at Red's front door. Red ducked and pulled Canis off of the bed and onto the floor. The Woodsman just stood there, reaching into his pocket for something. He opened the door and walked out, saying "Whoa there, men! What are you doing? Have I offended you somehow? I beg you to leave and take your drunken revelry somewhere else!" He shut the door behind him, sealing Red and Canis off from the conversation.
"You are harboring monsters, mister!" One of the men shouted.
"I assure you that I am no more harboring monsters as you are raising little monsters."
The men looked confused and glanced at each other nervously. "Hand over the demons and we won't hurt you, Woodsman!"
The Woodsman laughed heartily, "Hurt me you say? Little men, leave now before you are not able to leave on your own accord." His eyes widened as he took a very confident step forward, causing the men to step back. He raised his hands and a wind started to blow around the cottage, stirring up dust and leaves in the eyes of the mob of men.
The men stammered back, hands over their eyes. "What kind of magic is this Woodsman?"
"Come closer and find out! I am going back inside, when this gale dissipates I expect you to be gone or I will force you gone." With that the Woodsman went back inside.
Red was still administering the remedy to Canis while he lay on the floor. The smoking and bleeding had stopped and he sat up on his own. The Woodsman went over to Canis's side and and pulled out a mash of green moss and leaves from his pocket and dipped it into the remedy and offered it to him.
"Chew on this but don't swallow. Once the taste is too much to bear, spit it out. This will give you the energy to travel for a day." He got up and looked out the window, "The mob is still outside. I will take care of them while you two leave out the back. Go fast and go far. Good luck."
"I won't leave my home Woodsman! They will not force me out. I will deal with them now." Red got up but was forced back down by a very large hand from the Woodsman.
"Child, you can kill them but more will come. Their minds need to be changed and that will not happen this night. Go far away and don't look back. Trust me. You two will survive. If you love this creature, you will go... now!" He walked to the door, opened it, and went outside.
Red heard commotion and gunfire outside as well as trees falling and screaming. She got Canis up on his feet as he spat out the mossy concoction.
"My love are you..."
"I'm okay, Red. Let's go." Canis gave his love a kiss on her perfect lips as he leaned on his lover for support.
"Okay. I guess we must find a new life."
"As long you are with me, Red, we will be just fine."
The two left out the back and ran into the darkened woods. The sounds of uprooted trees, gale-force winds and gunfire dwindled as they ran farther and farther away. As they ran, ducking under branches, Canis slowed momentarily.
"Where should we go, Red?"
"Well, I have an old family friend; she is a Vampire, like me. I used to call her Grandmother..."
Word Count: 2664
© Copyright 2010 EvilDawg
Friday, December 14, 2012
Family
In light of what happened today in Newtown, CT, I felt compelled to write about family.
One never thinks that a tragedy like the school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School could ever possibly happen to them. If any of my readers have children, do me a favor, tonight when you home please hug your kids and tell them that you love them or call them if they are away and tell them how important they are you. Our kids need to grow up knowing that their parents love them and that life is stable and secure.
We as parents want nothing more than to shield our kids and protect them from the horrors of the world. We want to ensure that they grow up to be good men and women and care for others and treat people well and respect life. We want to know that they will be able to fulfill their dreams and have the tools to take on the tasks associated with life.
I have an 11 year old son, Atom, and three step-children, Meghan, Aubrey and Nathan. I love them all dearly and want nothing less than their complete success and happiness in life. I reflect on my son, whom I have watched grow up to be a smart and caring young man who has his whole life ahead of him, both good and bad decisions and the consequences that accompany those decisions. I have the rare opportunity to watch life unfold for not only my son, but also my step-children as they all progress through school, work and eventually their own families.
As of this moment, 20 children ages five through ten have been killed in Newtown, CT in a Kindergarten through Fourth Grade school. Tragic.
We trust that when we send our kids to school they will be safer there than anywhere else they could be with the exception of home. No one knows yet if there was a breakdown of school security today but I suspect that since the killers mother worked at the school that he was a normal person to be seen there and as such trusted by school staff. I am sure that if there were any inclination that something was wrong, the staff would have done something sooner.
There are possibly other acting influences that are affecting my reaction to this today but I think that all of us, as parents, are affected by this in some way and I would hope that all of us call our kids, hug them if you can and tell them that we love them and that they are very important to us and do what we can to help them feel secure in their home life.
Thanks for listening.
Dawg
One never thinks that a tragedy like the school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School could ever possibly happen to them. If any of my readers have children, do me a favor, tonight when you home please hug your kids and tell them that you love them or call them if they are away and tell them how important they are you. Our kids need to grow up knowing that their parents love them and that life is stable and secure.
We as parents want nothing more than to shield our kids and protect them from the horrors of the world. We want to ensure that they grow up to be good men and women and care for others and treat people well and respect life. We want to know that they will be able to fulfill their dreams and have the tools to take on the tasks associated with life.
I have an 11 year old son, Atom, and three step-children, Meghan, Aubrey and Nathan. I love them all dearly and want nothing less than their complete success and happiness in life. I reflect on my son, whom I have watched grow up to be a smart and caring young man who has his whole life ahead of him, both good and bad decisions and the consequences that accompany those decisions. I have the rare opportunity to watch life unfold for not only my son, but also my step-children as they all progress through school, work and eventually their own families.
As of this moment, 20 children ages five through ten have been killed in Newtown, CT in a Kindergarten through Fourth Grade school. Tragic.
We trust that when we send our kids to school they will be safer there than anywhere else they could be with the exception of home. No one knows yet if there was a breakdown of school security today but I suspect that since the killers mother worked at the school that he was a normal person to be seen there and as such trusted by school staff. I am sure that if there were any inclination that something was wrong, the staff would have done something sooner.
There are possibly other acting influences that are affecting my reaction to this today but I think that all of us, as parents, are affected by this in some way and I would hope that all of us call our kids, hug them if you can and tell them that we love them and that they are very important to us and do what we can to help them feel secure in their home life.
Thanks for listening.
Dawg
Thursday, December 13, 2012
"The Cube" by EvilDawg
Published in November 2009 Issue of Spectacular Speculations
Jack had a lot on his mind these days; it seemed he was always preoccupied with something. The Lab was busy and stressful as they were always way too close to having their budget cut. Archeology doesn’t garner the same respect and patience as it used to. Jack’s team had just brought back some pottery fragments and an odd stone cube from a recent dig in New Guinea and they were excited to start cataloging them.
The drive to work was a normal one; traffic and rain, never a good combination. He listened to Nirvana on the radio as he pulled into the museum parking lot. The Museum of Natural History was a huge series of buildings, most impressive were the underground labs and storage facilities. Jack grabbed his satchel and coffee cup and walked from his car to the employee entrance of the main building. He struggled to hold his coffee and satchel in his left hand while he searched for his card key in his coat pockets. After a few seconds he opened the door and went inside, shaking the water off of his satchel as he strode in.
Jack went into his office and set down his coffee and satchel on his desk and sat down in the chair. He feebly attempted to organize the messy desk, gave up and took a long drink of his java. He shifted his lanky body in the chair but couldn’t get comfortable; his legs were too long for this seat and it was already adjusting to its highest setting while having his legs actually under the desk. So much for ergonomic he thought. He tried to settle in as he had some paperwork to get caught up on.
The phone rang, Jack picked it up. “Dr. Jennings.”
The man on the phone was Bill Fredrickson. Bill was the Project Planner for Jack’s expedition to New Guinea. “I see you made it back okay, how was the trip?”
“It was good, Bill. We uncovered some pottery and a strange idol, at least, I think its an idol.” Jack thought back to the day it was discovered. His team was in Quadrant 147, along a trail that was once the main road to the little village they were unearthing, and dug up a strange stone cube. The cube was unremarkable except for its weight. It should have weighed in at about two hundred pounds, but only weighed twelve. It was slated for radio carbon testing later today; Jack anxiously awaited the results.
“Good. Listen, I have to get all of your receipts from the trip so I can reconcile the books before I turn in the expense report to the foundation. When can I come by and get them?” This was all standard operation procedure for both Bill and Jack.
“Can we do it tomorrow Bill? I have a lot to catch up on today.”
“Sure thing. Well, I’ll let you get back to it then... Oh, that reminds me! Kaitlyn wants to have you and the girls over for dinner soon. Nothing urgent, just let us know when is best for you. Have a great day and welcome back!” Bill hung up without waiting for a reply. He didn’t want to give Jack an “out” for the dinner.
“Okay, I’ll think...” Click.
Hanging up the phone, Jack went back to work. He managed to get through most of his paperwork and created folders on the server for the cataloging that was to happen tomorrow morning. After lunch, which he always brings from home, today, a Healthy Choice frozen Whiskey Steak entree, he went over to the Dating Lab and opened the first of the two doors. This was one of many sealed rooms where the temperature and humidity were kept at a constant. Artifacts, buried for centuries, tended to decay faster if not pampered and kept in the proper atmosphere. The first door closed and there was a loud hissing as the air was sucked out and then replaced, adjusting the atmosphere in the little ante-room to match that of the Dating Lab. The inner door opened and Jack walked into the dimly lit lab.
“Jack Jennings! How the hell are ya?” Colm greeted Jack once the inner door closed, extending a hand to Jack.
“I’m good Colm, how are you?” Jack shook his hand and searched the room, nonchalantly, for the cube, but didn’t see it.
“Good, good. So... You’ve come for some answers? The cube?” Colm backed up, still keeping his gaze on Jack, his arm searching for the back of his chair as he went.
“Yeah. It’s the damnedest thing Colm. We found that in New Guinea, along with several other items of pottery and pottery fragments. As far as I can tell it’s some kind of idol, but I have no idea of what.” Jack followed Colm as he found his chair and sat down.
“Let’s see what we can see. It’s in the mass spectrometer now.” Colm spun in his chair to face the series of keyboards and monitors. This lab was a permanent fixture at the museum, it never had to worry about grant money or the foundation's board of governors review processes. Colm was on salary and will be here as long as he wants. Jack, however, was not as fortunate. His length of stay was directly proportionate to the amount and quality of the results he and his team produced. It weighed on him heavily at times, like now.
Colm started typing and the process began. Through a monitor that was now active, Jack could see the cube in the spectrometer, a pale light illuminating it as the test began.
The data started streaming into the computers. Colm looked at the results as they appeared and cocked his head. “When did you say this village was active?” He turned to look up at Jack who was still standing.
“Four hundred years ago, give or take a few decades, why?” Jack was curious, as he always was, about the cube, the results and it’s meaning in the world.
“Well... According to this, it is much older than that.” Colm turned back around and started parse through the data into a report to be printed.
“Yeah, but the stone itself could be old, but made yesterday, right?” Jack leaned in to see the data on the monitor in front of Colm.
“Right, but there are tool marks and metal chips from the carving of this that would be more accurate to test, which I did... This isn’t my first rodeo. It is over two thousand years old!”
“Really? So then the question is, how did this cube end up in this village?” Jack loved puzzles and this appeared to be a good one.
“Here ya go!” Colm reached to his printer and handed the documents to Jack. “Let me get the specimen for you.”
“Thanks Colm.” Jack perused the papers for a minute while Colm went and got the cube.
Suddenly Jack heard what sounded like a shock or spark and then a slumping sound. He rushed over to Colm, who was on the opposite side of the mass spectrometer. Jack was aghast when he got to Colm, his jaw dropping and eyes widening. Colm was on the ground, eyes open, skin charred from head to toe. There was an inky black substance dripping out of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Jack knelt down, unwillingly smelling the burnt flesh, and checked to see if Colm was breathing; he wasn’t.
Rushing to the phone, by the keyboards and monitors, Jack called 911 and told them what happened. He hung up and dialed security, who told him they were on their way. He hung up and started to go back over to Colm, that’s when he noticed the cube on the monitor.
The cube, when it was brought into the lab, and when Jack saw it just a few minutes ago, was a gray, roughly carved stone cube. It was one foot on all sides and weighed next to nothing compared to what it should have. There were no markings on it of any kind and was relatively unremarkable. Now, however, the cube was opened. There was a side of the artifact missing, as if it had never been there and inside, utter darkness.
“What the...” Jack stopped abruptly as he watched in horror and fascination as a small, pinpoint of bright light emerged from the cube. It was white and seemed to radiate it’s own light like a Timex Indiglow watch. The object was about the size of of a pencil eraser. It slowly, cautiously hovered out and onto the vacant space above the testing surface the cube was placed on.
The outer door opened with a hiss, as the security team arrived and four men walked inside, waiting for the pressurization to initiate. The door closed and the stabilization commenced.
Jack was not even bothered by the doors as his curiosity compelled him to keep watching the entity. It was, however, noticeably bothered by the sound and flew out of the spectrometer and out of Jack’s view. He ran back over to Colm to see where it went but could not locate it. The inner door opened and the security officers came into the lab.
“Hello? Anyone in here?” The team was looking around for movement when they saw Jack stand up, motioning them over to Colm. They started walking around the spectrometer unit when the officer in the rear let out a gut-wrenching scream and fell to the floor.
Everyone gasped in horror when they saw the glowing white light move up the officer's leg, which was dissolving at a fantastically rapid pace. The officer writhed in agony while the object left a trail of what can only be described as acid, up the officer's body. The monster finally came to rest, hovering above his face and his body tensed up as if he were having a convulsion and let out a terrifying gurgle, then fell silent and still. The object remained motionless, hovering just above the dissolving security officer.
Jack backed up against some file cabinets, trying to put distance between himself and the light. He looked to the cube and was shocked to see another side had disappeared. He looked around for some kind of weapon, anything that could help him if another one of those things came out. He found a pair of scissors on top of one of the cabinets and held it up like a dagger, waiting for anything.
The cube started emitting a pulsing sound, like a car with too much bass playing loud a couple blocks away. It was faint yet deliberate. The sound grew louder, with deafening speed, quickly over taking any other sound in the room. The remaining officers covered their ears and knelt down on the ground, restless in pain and anticipation. The creature, king of it’s hill, watched, seemingly unaffected and unmoving. The air in the entire room pulsated with the sound, in and out, like being directly in front of a sub-woofer. Jack slid down the cabinet and sat on the ground, knees to his chest, covering his ears while still holding the scissors.
The lights flickered wildly then the room went dark, the sound still getting louder and the airwaves becoming more violent.
The top of the cube dissolved into nothingness, a faint light emanating from within. The glow from the cube’s top was like a beacon in the darkness and shot up and out of the cube, bathing the ceiling of the spectrometer unit in increasingly bright light.
Jack found it hard to keep his eyes open for any length of time due to the pulsing air around him and the rapidly growing brightness of the cube. He did, however, mange to see the mass of little creatures pouring out of the cube like lava pouring down a volcano. They moved slowly but seemed to be pushed out of the cube at a consistent rate.
Oh my god...
Just before Jack had to shut his eyes to lessen the pain of his environment, he saw a thick, fluorescent fog drifting up and out of the top of the cube, then another. He shut his eyes, hands still over his ears. He felt something on his legs. It was like sliding into a warm hot tub, slowly. The sensation grew up to his waist, then his chest. He felt tiny things crawling on his face and arms, that’s when the pain started at his feet. A burning pain that he had never felt before, engulfed his every sense. The acid started dissolving Jack, starting at the feet and traveling the same path as the creatures.
Jack screamed but couldn’t hear himself over the noise. He felt little monsters crawling in his mouth, leaving a strong, vaporous taste. Something tugged at his hand and he felt himself fall to the side.
The pain overtook him as he passed out, unable to hold on any longer.
The last thought that Dr. Jack Jennings had before he died was What have I done?
Jack had a lot on his mind these days; it seemed he was always preoccupied with something. The Lab was busy and stressful as they were always way too close to having their budget cut. Archeology doesn’t garner the same respect and patience as it used to. Jack’s team had just brought back some pottery fragments and an odd stone cube from a recent dig in New Guinea and they were excited to start cataloging them.
The drive to work was a normal one; traffic and rain, never a good combination. He listened to Nirvana on the radio as he pulled into the museum parking lot. The Museum of Natural History was a huge series of buildings, most impressive were the underground labs and storage facilities. Jack grabbed his satchel and coffee cup and walked from his car to the employee entrance of the main building. He struggled to hold his coffee and satchel in his left hand while he searched for his card key in his coat pockets. After a few seconds he opened the door and went inside, shaking the water off of his satchel as he strode in.
Jack went into his office and set down his coffee and satchel on his desk and sat down in the chair. He feebly attempted to organize the messy desk, gave up and took a long drink of his java. He shifted his lanky body in the chair but couldn’t get comfortable; his legs were too long for this seat and it was already adjusting to its highest setting while having his legs actually under the desk. So much for ergonomic he thought. He tried to settle in as he had some paperwork to get caught up on.
The phone rang, Jack picked it up. “Dr. Jennings.”
The man on the phone was Bill Fredrickson. Bill was the Project Planner for Jack’s expedition to New Guinea. “I see you made it back okay, how was the trip?”
“It was good, Bill. We uncovered some pottery and a strange idol, at least, I think its an idol.” Jack thought back to the day it was discovered. His team was in Quadrant 147, along a trail that was once the main road to the little village they were unearthing, and dug up a strange stone cube. The cube was unremarkable except for its weight. It should have weighed in at about two hundred pounds, but only weighed twelve. It was slated for radio carbon testing later today; Jack anxiously awaited the results.
“Good. Listen, I have to get all of your receipts from the trip so I can reconcile the books before I turn in the expense report to the foundation. When can I come by and get them?” This was all standard operation procedure for both Bill and Jack.
“Can we do it tomorrow Bill? I have a lot to catch up on today.”
“Sure thing. Well, I’ll let you get back to it then... Oh, that reminds me! Kaitlyn wants to have you and the girls over for dinner soon. Nothing urgent, just let us know when is best for you. Have a great day and welcome back!” Bill hung up without waiting for a reply. He didn’t want to give Jack an “out” for the dinner.
“Okay, I’ll think...” Click.
Hanging up the phone, Jack went back to work. He managed to get through most of his paperwork and created folders on the server for the cataloging that was to happen tomorrow morning. After lunch, which he always brings from home, today, a Healthy Choice frozen Whiskey Steak entree, he went over to the Dating Lab and opened the first of the two doors. This was one of many sealed rooms where the temperature and humidity were kept at a constant. Artifacts, buried for centuries, tended to decay faster if not pampered and kept in the proper atmosphere. The first door closed and there was a loud hissing as the air was sucked out and then replaced, adjusting the atmosphere in the little ante-room to match that of the Dating Lab. The inner door opened and Jack walked into the dimly lit lab.
“Jack Jennings! How the hell are ya?” Colm greeted Jack once the inner door closed, extending a hand to Jack.
“I’m good Colm, how are you?” Jack shook his hand and searched the room, nonchalantly, for the cube, but didn’t see it.
“Good, good. So... You’ve come for some answers? The cube?” Colm backed up, still keeping his gaze on Jack, his arm searching for the back of his chair as he went.
“Yeah. It’s the damnedest thing Colm. We found that in New Guinea, along with several other items of pottery and pottery fragments. As far as I can tell it’s some kind of idol, but I have no idea of what.” Jack followed Colm as he found his chair and sat down.
“Let’s see what we can see. It’s in the mass spectrometer now.” Colm spun in his chair to face the series of keyboards and monitors. This lab was a permanent fixture at the museum, it never had to worry about grant money or the foundation's board of governors review processes. Colm was on salary and will be here as long as he wants. Jack, however, was not as fortunate. His length of stay was directly proportionate to the amount and quality of the results he and his team produced. It weighed on him heavily at times, like now.
Colm started typing and the process began. Through a monitor that was now active, Jack could see the cube in the spectrometer, a pale light illuminating it as the test began.
The data started streaming into the computers. Colm looked at the results as they appeared and cocked his head. “When did you say this village was active?” He turned to look up at Jack who was still standing.
“Four hundred years ago, give or take a few decades, why?” Jack was curious, as he always was, about the cube, the results and it’s meaning in the world.
“Well... According to this, it is much older than that.” Colm turned back around and started parse through the data into a report to be printed.
“Yeah, but the stone itself could be old, but made yesterday, right?” Jack leaned in to see the data on the monitor in front of Colm.
“Right, but there are tool marks and metal chips from the carving of this that would be more accurate to test, which I did... This isn’t my first rodeo. It is over two thousand years old!”
“Really? So then the question is, how did this cube end up in this village?” Jack loved puzzles and this appeared to be a good one.
“Here ya go!” Colm reached to his printer and handed the documents to Jack. “Let me get the specimen for you.”
“Thanks Colm.” Jack perused the papers for a minute while Colm went and got the cube.
Suddenly Jack heard what sounded like a shock or spark and then a slumping sound. He rushed over to Colm, who was on the opposite side of the mass spectrometer. Jack was aghast when he got to Colm, his jaw dropping and eyes widening. Colm was on the ground, eyes open, skin charred from head to toe. There was an inky black substance dripping out of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Jack knelt down, unwillingly smelling the burnt flesh, and checked to see if Colm was breathing; he wasn’t.
Rushing to the phone, by the keyboards and monitors, Jack called 911 and told them what happened. He hung up and dialed security, who told him they were on their way. He hung up and started to go back over to Colm, that’s when he noticed the cube on the monitor.
The cube, when it was brought into the lab, and when Jack saw it just a few minutes ago, was a gray, roughly carved stone cube. It was one foot on all sides and weighed next to nothing compared to what it should have. There were no markings on it of any kind and was relatively unremarkable. Now, however, the cube was opened. There was a side of the artifact missing, as if it had never been there and inside, utter darkness.
“What the...” Jack stopped abruptly as he watched in horror and fascination as a small, pinpoint of bright light emerged from the cube. It was white and seemed to radiate it’s own light like a Timex Indiglow watch. The object was about the size of of a pencil eraser. It slowly, cautiously hovered out and onto the vacant space above the testing surface the cube was placed on.
The outer door opened with a hiss, as the security team arrived and four men walked inside, waiting for the pressurization to initiate. The door closed and the stabilization commenced.
Jack was not even bothered by the doors as his curiosity compelled him to keep watching the entity. It was, however, noticeably bothered by the sound and flew out of the spectrometer and out of Jack’s view. He ran back over to Colm to see where it went but could not locate it. The inner door opened and the security officers came into the lab.
“Hello? Anyone in here?” The team was looking around for movement when they saw Jack stand up, motioning them over to Colm. They started walking around the spectrometer unit when the officer in the rear let out a gut-wrenching scream and fell to the floor.
Everyone gasped in horror when they saw the glowing white light move up the officer's leg, which was dissolving at a fantastically rapid pace. The officer writhed in agony while the object left a trail of what can only be described as acid, up the officer's body. The monster finally came to rest, hovering above his face and his body tensed up as if he were having a convulsion and let out a terrifying gurgle, then fell silent and still. The object remained motionless, hovering just above the dissolving security officer.
Jack backed up against some file cabinets, trying to put distance between himself and the light. He looked to the cube and was shocked to see another side had disappeared. He looked around for some kind of weapon, anything that could help him if another one of those things came out. He found a pair of scissors on top of one of the cabinets and held it up like a dagger, waiting for anything.
The cube started emitting a pulsing sound, like a car with too much bass playing loud a couple blocks away. It was faint yet deliberate. The sound grew louder, with deafening speed, quickly over taking any other sound in the room. The remaining officers covered their ears and knelt down on the ground, restless in pain and anticipation. The creature, king of it’s hill, watched, seemingly unaffected and unmoving. The air in the entire room pulsated with the sound, in and out, like being directly in front of a sub-woofer. Jack slid down the cabinet and sat on the ground, knees to his chest, covering his ears while still holding the scissors.
The lights flickered wildly then the room went dark, the sound still getting louder and the airwaves becoming more violent.
The top of the cube dissolved into nothingness, a faint light emanating from within. The glow from the cube’s top was like a beacon in the darkness and shot up and out of the cube, bathing the ceiling of the spectrometer unit in increasingly bright light.
Jack found it hard to keep his eyes open for any length of time due to the pulsing air around him and the rapidly growing brightness of the cube. He did, however, mange to see the mass of little creatures pouring out of the cube like lava pouring down a volcano. They moved slowly but seemed to be pushed out of the cube at a consistent rate.
Oh my god...
Just before Jack had to shut his eyes to lessen the pain of his environment, he saw a thick, fluorescent fog drifting up and out of the top of the cube, then another. He shut his eyes, hands still over his ears. He felt something on his legs. It was like sliding into a warm hot tub, slowly. The sensation grew up to his waist, then his chest. He felt tiny things crawling on his face and arms, that’s when the pain started at his feet. A burning pain that he had never felt before, engulfed his every sense. The acid started dissolving Jack, starting at the feet and traveling the same path as the creatures.
Jack screamed but couldn’t hear himself over the noise. He felt little monsters crawling in his mouth, leaving a strong, vaporous taste. Something tugged at his hand and he felt himself fall to the side.
The pain overtook him as he passed out, unable to hold on any longer.
The last thought that Dr. Jack Jennings had before he died was What have I done?
© Copyright 2009 EvilDawg
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
"The Journey" by EvilDawg
No one knew how the boats got there; they just appeared overnight as if by magic. We were all stunned. We had been on this island for what seemed like an eternity, maybe it was an eternity….
There were eight boats, all rowboats; about eight to nine feet long and maybe three feet wide in the middle. They were unremarkable in all respects except for the signs on the top of the back of each seat: ONLY FOUR PER BOAT.
That made sense, there were thirty-two of us. All of us stranded here and most of us stranded differently. Myself, I was knocked overboard by shrapnel from cannon fire. I remember falling in the water, then I woke up on this beach. When was that? It seems like years; many, many years. Samantha was thrown from a plane over the Caribbean, she says she was sucked out, but we all have our suspicions to the contrary. While I have never seen a plane personally, I can only imagine it would have hurt, but here she is; walking and talking and arguing.
The boats, once they were here for a while, started floating farther and farther out to sea with each tide. We all voted and decided to get in the boats before they were gone. This might be our only hope. The only one who disagreed was Samantha, of course. She argued that we had been fine up to this point, that the island provided all we needed. She kept asking ‘Why would we leave this paradise?’ over and over.
Ignoring her complaints, we all lined up in front of each boat, four in a row, and cautiously climbed in. We all just looked at each other, there were no oars, no sails and none of these motors the others seem to expect; just seats in boats. We sat there for a while, wondering if the tide would take us away to where we needed to go.
Suddenly, the tide pulled us out to sea, surging to and fro with the swells; the mist of the water caressing our faces. The warm breeze felt refreshing on our lightly wet skin; a sense of renewal washing over us. We floated in peace, even Samantha was quiet, for many days.
Eventually the sky grew dark and a storm appeared on the horizon, threatening our solitude with chaos. It was at that moment that seven of the eight boats turned towards the sunset, leaving one boat, Samantha’s vessel, to continue on towards the storm. As the sun grew warmer on our faces, we could hear Samantha and the other three scream. We looked over and saw that the storm had grown to become a fiery explosion of smoke and bright orange and red columns of flame that reached into the sky as well as beneath the sea. Her boat was soon engulfed and the screaming stopped.
Our new path led us to another island with a large obelisk made of solid ebony marble. The island seemed very much like our old island save for the large pillar that adorned its sands. We left the sanctuary of our arks and investigated the towering obelisk. At the base, a door marred the perfect surface of the monolith; above it, a sign: WELCOME ALL WHO MAY ENTER
To me, this was an invitation, which I accepted. I opened the door and a soft warm light emanated from its hollows, drawing me in. The others gasped in delight. I walked in and was enveloped by the light and knew that I was no longer stranded, that we were no longer stranded. We had been found.
I wondered if others would ever have the same journey as we had.
Lost in peace, I drifted away.
(Words: 615)
There were eight boats, all rowboats; about eight to nine feet long and maybe three feet wide in the middle. They were unremarkable in all respects except for the signs on the top of the back of each seat: ONLY FOUR PER BOAT.
That made sense, there were thirty-two of us. All of us stranded here and most of us stranded differently. Myself, I was knocked overboard by shrapnel from cannon fire. I remember falling in the water, then I woke up on this beach. When was that? It seems like years; many, many years. Samantha was thrown from a plane over the Caribbean, she says she was sucked out, but we all have our suspicions to the contrary. While I have never seen a plane personally, I can only imagine it would have hurt, but here she is; walking and talking and arguing.
The boats, once they were here for a while, started floating farther and farther out to sea with each tide. We all voted and decided to get in the boats before they were gone. This might be our only hope. The only one who disagreed was Samantha, of course. She argued that we had been fine up to this point, that the island provided all we needed. She kept asking ‘Why would we leave this paradise?’ over and over.
Ignoring her complaints, we all lined up in front of each boat, four in a row, and cautiously climbed in. We all just looked at each other, there were no oars, no sails and none of these motors the others seem to expect; just seats in boats. We sat there for a while, wondering if the tide would take us away to where we needed to go.
Suddenly, the tide pulled us out to sea, surging to and fro with the swells; the mist of the water caressing our faces. The warm breeze felt refreshing on our lightly wet skin; a sense of renewal washing over us. We floated in peace, even Samantha was quiet, for many days.
Eventually the sky grew dark and a storm appeared on the horizon, threatening our solitude with chaos. It was at that moment that seven of the eight boats turned towards the sunset, leaving one boat, Samantha’s vessel, to continue on towards the storm. As the sun grew warmer on our faces, we could hear Samantha and the other three scream. We looked over and saw that the storm had grown to become a fiery explosion of smoke and bright orange and red columns of flame that reached into the sky as well as beneath the sea. Her boat was soon engulfed and the screaming stopped.
Our new path led us to another island with a large obelisk made of solid ebony marble. The island seemed very much like our old island save for the large pillar that adorned its sands. We left the sanctuary of our arks and investigated the towering obelisk. At the base, a door marred the perfect surface of the monolith; above it, a sign: WELCOME ALL WHO MAY ENTER
To me, this was an invitation, which I accepted. I opened the door and a soft warm light emanated from its hollows, drawing me in. The others gasped in delight. I walked in and was enveloped by the light and knew that I was no longer stranded, that we were no longer stranded. We had been found.
I wondered if others would ever have the same journey as we had.
Lost in peace, I drifted away.
(Words: 615)
© Copyright 2009 EvilDawg
New Label: "Short Stories by EvilDawg"
I am creating a new tag for this blog and will start uploading some of my Short Stories that I have written that are currently housed on Writing.Com.
The first one I will upload is one that that has won several writing contests and has the most reviews and with a 4.5 out of 5 star rating, I think it will be a good choice for the first post under this new label.
Thanks!
Dawg
The first one I will upload is one that that has won several writing contests and has the most reviews and with a 4.5 out of 5 star rating, I think it will be a good choice for the first post under this new label.
Thanks!
Dawg
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Moving
I find, as I get older, that moving becomes less stressful and more painful. I have moved so may times in my 42 years that while moving sucks and is not fun I feel that I have a pretty good handle on the process and the mental checklist of remembering certain things like transferring utilities and such. While all of that is well and good, I hurt, physically, more than ever. I guess that the many years of martial arts and physical labor (Mobile Auto Detailing for many years, pulling network cable, gym workouts, etc...) have finally caught up with me as has my aging structure.
Having said all of that, moving from a small house to a large house is definitely worth it. When I have my son every other weekend we have six people in the house and 1100 square feet was not cutting it. The new house is 3000 square feet and it is just right and everyone will have their own space if they need it.
All in all it was a good move and I should have the office set up soon so I can get back to writing.
If anyone is interested in checking out my writing portfolio, you can visit Writing.Com.
Having said all of that, moving from a small house to a large house is definitely worth it. When I have my son every other weekend we have six people in the house and 1100 square feet was not cutting it. The new house is 3000 square feet and it is just right and everyone will have their own space if they need it.
All in all it was a good move and I should have the office set up soon so I can get back to writing.
If anyone is interested in checking out my writing portfolio, you can visit Writing.Com.
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