“I learned this song when I was a kid,” Cody said.
Elise arched an eyebrow. “Can you even sing?”
Cody cast her a withering look. “Hello. Jewish? Have to sing at your bar mitzvah. Private lessons with the cantor and everything.”
Elise shrugged her shoulders defensively, tugged her backpack higher. Overhead, the sun was scorching and white-hot, and waves of heat drifted up from the tarmac. Once or twice Elise had stuck her thumb out, struck a sexy pose, but Cody and Kyle had tugged her back into line. Marsh was bringing up the rear, huffing and puffing under the weight of his pack.
After hacking off Elise’s hair, they all looked like bedraggled boy scouts who’d long lost the rest of their troop. So far no one had stopped yet, which was what Kyle wanted. As soon as they could find more idiots to mug for clothes, they’d be that much safer. People wanted to help lost boy scouts, after all.
People were afraid of the seraph-voiced.
“What was the song?” Kyle asked politely.
“It was long and repetitive, and I think it was supposed to make me feel better about having to walk long distances –”
“When the driver and the Rolls were occupied,” Elise said dryly, and rolled her eyes.
Cody ignored her. “But it had a pleasant tune, and it worked. For the most part.”
“Sing it,” Kyle suggested.
Elise groaned.
“You sing all the time,” Marsh said. “Give Cody a shot. If I have to listen to one more Veruca Salt –”
“Fine, sing,” Elise snapped.
Cody took a deep breath, straightened up. And he sang.
“Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked.
Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked.
They washed at streams and worked and played.
Sundays they camped and read and prayed.
Week after week, they sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked.”
“That’s not a very Jewish song,” Elise said.
“It was pleasant.” Kyle smiled.
At the back of the line, Marsh picked up the melody, stumbled over the lyrics. Elise corrected him automatically. Kyle started singing along, helping Marsh with the lyrics. Cody started singing again, and then Elise sighed, joining in.
Together, the four of them sang as they walked, and walked, and walked...and walked.
(394 words)
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Learn to Fly
“If men were meant to fly, they’d have been born with wings,” Christian said. He stood on the edge of the tarmac and eyed the gleaming DC-5 with distrust.
Angel arched one eyebrow and levitated a coin briefly above his palm. “Or fairy dust.”
Even after six centuries (during which Christian had mostly been asleep, but the principle still applied) a poke at his inhumanity never failed to make him blush.
“We’re called Quislai,” Christian said huffily.
“But you can fly,” Angel said.
“No I can’t. Not really.”
“Well, Quislai can fly.”
“I stand by my statement,” Christian said.
“Then maybe you’re right, but...then that means you’re not really a man, are you?” Angel grinned.
“I am too a man. Just not a human one,” Christian said stiffly. He curled his hand around the handle of his suitcase.
“Well then, man up and let’s get this show on the road. Come on – your first commercial passenger flight. There’s nothing to worry about. If the plane starts to fall out of the sky, you and I are guaranteed to survive.” Angel clapped Christian on the shoulder and started toward the airplane. An attractive young woman in a smart uniform - they called them stewardesses - stood at the top of the metal stairs, waiting to greet him.
Christian took a deep breath, then followed. He really didn’t have a choice. And maybe he would learn something in this place called Egypt where Angel had once lived before. Maybe he would learn more about Angel...and her.
(261 words)
Angel arched one eyebrow and levitated a coin briefly above his palm. “Or fairy dust.”
Even after six centuries (during which Christian had mostly been asleep, but the principle still applied) a poke at his inhumanity never failed to make him blush.
“We’re called Quislai,” Christian said huffily.
“But you can fly,” Angel said.
“No I can’t. Not really.”
“Well, Quislai can fly.”
“I stand by my statement,” Christian said.
“Then maybe you’re right, but...then that means you’re not really a man, are you?” Angel grinned.
“I am too a man. Just not a human one,” Christian said stiffly. He curled his hand around the handle of his suitcase.
“Well then, man up and let’s get this show on the road. Come on – your first commercial passenger flight. There’s nothing to worry about. If the plane starts to fall out of the sky, you and I are guaranteed to survive.” Angel clapped Christian on the shoulder and started toward the airplane. An attractive young woman in a smart uniform - they called them stewardesses - stood at the top of the metal stairs, waiting to greet him.
Christian took a deep breath, then followed. He really didn’t have a choice. And maybe he would learn something in this place called Egypt where Angel had once lived before. Maybe he would learn more about Angel...and her.
(261 words)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Heading for the Northern Lights
“I think I could get used to traveling like this,” Angel said. He tugged his parka tighter around him, nuzzled the furry lining of his hood.
That’s only because you aren’t pulling the stupid sled, Tobias said. He was at the head of the team, all gleaming dark fur and feral black eyes. He didn’t know that Asia was one of the other wild half-breeds that had been loping along in the endless white, tugging the sled through the Alaskan expanse.
“Yes, well, I give the Esquimaux points for style and fun. The land out here is –”
Barren? Tobias suggested. The dog behind him snarled, leapt at him. Tobias turned and snarled right back. There was a tussle, and Angel sighed, using his telekinesis to untangle the harnesses, and at the end the other dog bared its throat. Halfway through the fight it realized that Tobias was no dog at all but a full-blooded wolf, and it slunk back into place with its tail tucked between its legs.
Angel patted the top of the tarp, pleased. This cargo was very precious, and he’d had orders to store it somewhere no one would find it, not the locals, not nosy government surveyors, not intrepid explorers. Asia said she didn’t know when the package would have to be retrieved, but then she always said that when she’d seen things in the future that gave Angel a headache when he tried to explain them.
He hoisted himself up onto the back of the sled and whistled, and as one the dogs – and Tobias – sprang to attention. Angel cracked the whip, cried, “Mush!” and the sled lurched forward. Soon they would be able to see the northern lights.
(286 words)
That’s only because you aren’t pulling the stupid sled, Tobias said. He was at the head of the team, all gleaming dark fur and feral black eyes. He didn’t know that Asia was one of the other wild half-breeds that had been loping along in the endless white, tugging the sled through the Alaskan expanse.
“Yes, well, I give the Esquimaux points for style and fun. The land out here is –”
Barren? Tobias suggested. The dog behind him snarled, leapt at him. Tobias turned and snarled right back. There was a tussle, and Angel sighed, using his telekinesis to untangle the harnesses, and at the end the other dog bared its throat. Halfway through the fight it realized that Tobias was no dog at all but a full-blooded wolf, and it slunk back into place with its tail tucked between its legs.
Angel patted the top of the tarp, pleased. This cargo was very precious, and he’d had orders to store it somewhere no one would find it, not the locals, not nosy government surveyors, not intrepid explorers. Asia said she didn’t know when the package would have to be retrieved, but then she always said that when she’d seen things in the future that gave Angel a headache when he tried to explain them.
He hoisted himself up onto the back of the sled and whistled, and as one the dogs – and Tobias – sprang to attention. Angel cracked the whip, cried, “Mush!” and the sled lurched forward. Soon they would be able to see the northern lights.
(286 words)
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Let's Ride
“I’m not a frickin’ gladiator. I can’t just...run. And catch that thing,” Marsh said. He had his hands on his knees and was panting heavily.
“We’re not asking you to step into an arena and fight for your life,” Cody said. He was staring out at the railway up on the ridge, to the spot where golden light filtered from a dusty hanging lamp. “We’re asking you to run.”
Marsh rolled his eyes. “Do you have to take everything so literally?”
Kyle smiled. “You can do it. It’s not a big deal. It’s all cargo, so it’s not going very fast. We can hop cars till we find somewhere soft to sleep.”
Marsh arched an eyebrow. “You do this often?”
“I’ve been around the block,” Kyle said easily.
Elise made a low noise of disbelief. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t.”
Kyle turned his easy smile on her. “There’s more than one block in a city.”
Cody took a deep breath. “Come on. We can do this. Let’s just...run.”
Marsh ran his gaze up and down Cody’s husky form. “Can you even run, tubby?”
Cody glared. “I can run just fine.”
“Yeah. From bullies,” Elise said.
Cody glared at her too. “Let’s go, Kyle. If these two want to go back with Agent Samuels, they can.” And he loped up the hill. Kyle followed.
“I thought runaways only did this in movies,” Marsh complained, but he started up the hill after them.
“We’re not runaways,” Elise said. “We’re enemy soldiers. Let’s ride!” And she charged up the hill, blowing past Kyle and Cody easily, her coltish legs carrying her swiftly than Marsh had thought possible. She ran alongside the train, matching its pace, and then she sprang, caught the ledge of an open car and rolled. When Cody and Kyle caught up to her, she helped them in.
“Fine,” Marsh muttered, picking up the pace. “Gladiator it is. Let’s ride!”
(321 words)
“We’re not asking you to step into an arena and fight for your life,” Cody said. He was staring out at the railway up on the ridge, to the spot where golden light filtered from a dusty hanging lamp. “We’re asking you to run.”
Marsh rolled his eyes. “Do you have to take everything so literally?”
Kyle smiled. “You can do it. It’s not a big deal. It’s all cargo, so it’s not going very fast. We can hop cars till we find somewhere soft to sleep.”
Marsh arched an eyebrow. “You do this often?”
“I’ve been around the block,” Kyle said easily.
Elise made a low noise of disbelief. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t.”
Kyle turned his easy smile on her. “There’s more than one block in a city.”
Cody took a deep breath. “Come on. We can do this. Let’s just...run.”
Marsh ran his gaze up and down Cody’s husky form. “Can you even run, tubby?”
Cody glared. “I can run just fine.”
“Yeah. From bullies,” Elise said.
Cody glared at her too. “Let’s go, Kyle. If these two want to go back with Agent Samuels, they can.” And he loped up the hill. Kyle followed.
“I thought runaways only did this in movies,” Marsh complained, but he started up the hill after them.
“We’re not runaways,” Elise said. “We’re enemy soldiers. Let’s ride!” And she charged up the hill, blowing past Kyle and Cody easily, her coltish legs carrying her swiftly than Marsh had thought possible. She ran alongside the train, matching its pace, and then she sprang, caught the ledge of an open car and rolled. When Cody and Kyle caught up to her, she helped them in.
“Fine,” Marsh muttered, picking up the pace. “Gladiator it is. Let’s ride!”
(321 words)
Shut Up
"We're lost."
"No We're not. We are exactly where we are supposed to be."
"Oh really? Since when did Utah have a great river running thorough it?"
"The Colorado River runs through Utah."
"That isn't the Colorado. It's to big. I told you we should have taken exit 251. But you didn't want to listen to me."
"Then what do you suggest genius?"
"Pull off at the next exit and turn us around. Duh."
"Fine. There's a sign coming up. It says.... Wyoming 120 Miles."
"I told you."
"Shut up..."
"No We're not. We are exactly where we are supposed to be."
"Oh really? Since when did Utah have a great river running thorough it?"
"The Colorado River runs through Utah."
"That isn't the Colorado. It's to big. I told you we should have taken exit 251. But you didn't want to listen to me."
"Then what do you suggest genius?"
"Pull off at the next exit and turn us around. Duh."
"Fine. There's a sign coming up. It says.... Wyoming 120 Miles."
"I told you."
"Shut up..."
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
There Yet?
Even though it was Elise’s car, she knew she was only the driver. Kyle was riding shotgun, crammed into the front seat, all elbows and knees, leaning against the door with his face turned toward the sunlight streaming through the open window. Marsh and Cody were crammed into the back seat, studiously ignoring each other.
Technically, Elise was the road trip DJ. After all, it was her car, her stereo - that she’d paid for with her own gig money - and her iPod.
“Let Kyle choose the next song,” Cody said. The way he deferred to Kyle just because of who Kyle sang for was downright pathetic, but Elise sometimes found herself deferring to Kyle as well. It had more to do with his own presence than with Gabriel hanging over him, but still, deference to Kyle was a natural reaction in almost anyone.
Almost.
Because Marsh was rolling a pair of dice in one hand and grinning wickedly in the rearview mirror, and by some not-magical but certainly supernatural coincidence Elise’s iPod shuffle kept turning up songs that Marsh liked – songs that no one else liked.
Elise had a rule about long car rides – driver’s iPod was the source of music, but prior to the journey every passenger could contribute a playlist, and whoever was riding shotgun had the ultimate veto power. That Marsh was using Tabris to play the odds in his favor, knowing Kyle’s indifference to most music, was downright annoying.
It didn’t help that all of the green highway signs seemed to be saying the same thing: they were no closer to their destination than they had been an hour ago. Elise knew it wasn’t true, but the mileage numbers on the signs were downright intimidating. Add to the fact that Cody and Marsh were glaring daggers at each other in the back seat while Kyle sunned himself like a gangly puppy and Elise was being aurally assaulted by the likes of Lady Gaga, and Elise found herself saying,
“Are we there yet?”
Pink flooded the speakers, and Marsh bobbed his head, smirking victoriously. Cody groaned and closed his eyes. Kyle turned away from the sun, and he said,
“This is interesting. Who’s singing?”
Elise had to resist the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. “Next stop, Cody’s driving and I’m shotgun,” she said.
“But I don’t have a license.”
“I don’t care!”
(400 words)
Technically, Elise was the road trip DJ. After all, it was her car, her stereo - that she’d paid for with her own gig money - and her iPod.
“Let Kyle choose the next song,” Cody said. The way he deferred to Kyle just because of who Kyle sang for was downright pathetic, but Elise sometimes found herself deferring to Kyle as well. It had more to do with his own presence than with Gabriel hanging over him, but still, deference to Kyle was a natural reaction in almost anyone.
Almost.
Because Marsh was rolling a pair of dice in one hand and grinning wickedly in the rearview mirror, and by some not-magical but certainly supernatural coincidence Elise’s iPod shuffle kept turning up songs that Marsh liked – songs that no one else liked.
Elise had a rule about long car rides – driver’s iPod was the source of music, but prior to the journey every passenger could contribute a playlist, and whoever was riding shotgun had the ultimate veto power. That Marsh was using Tabris to play the odds in his favor, knowing Kyle’s indifference to most music, was downright annoying.
It didn’t help that all of the green highway signs seemed to be saying the same thing: they were no closer to their destination than they had been an hour ago. Elise knew it wasn’t true, but the mileage numbers on the signs were downright intimidating. Add to the fact that Cody and Marsh were glaring daggers at each other in the back seat while Kyle sunned himself like a gangly puppy and Elise was being aurally assaulted by the likes of Lady Gaga, and Elise found herself saying,
“Are we there yet?”
Pink flooded the speakers, and Marsh bobbed his head, smirking victoriously. Cody groaned and closed his eyes. Kyle turned away from the sun, and he said,
“This is interesting. Who’s singing?”
Elise had to resist the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. “Next stop, Cody’s driving and I’m shotgun,” she said.
“But I don’t have a license.”
“I don’t care!”
(400 words)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Project #79: Travel
Almost forgot it was my turn this week. So...this week, write about travel. Where will your characters go? How will they get there? Are they frequent fliers or do they get seasick? Why are they going, and will they stay? You have 400 words to take your characters on a journey. Maybe give your newly-created characters a spin.
Overview #78: Songfics
So it's official, I kinda slacked off this week. In my defense, I was out of town and my access to internet was spotty at best, so I did what I could when I could. I love Songfics, and I guess I'm kind of a traditionalist when it comes to them - I like to weave the lyrics of a song into a piece. At least, that's what I like with The Script because I love the lyrics of their songs. If I'd chosen a band for the music instead of the lyrics, it would be a whole different story (which means I have to try some Eternal Melody stuff when this challenge comes around again), but this week I think I did all right, turning the lyrics into dialogue. I think my first entry was my favorite, because I love that song and I've been meaning to write that story (or one like it) to that song for a while. I think my last entry was the best as far as weaving in the lyrics more subtly. Still, I could have done better, and I felt like a cheat for defaulting to the boys of The Dagaz, but this was a pretty awesome exercise. Better luck next week.
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