“But I –” Topher began.
Adelle cut in. “Do not speak unless you can improve the silence.”
Topher shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked. He raised his eyebrows and made a series of highly expressive and inexplicable gestures that indicated he was very agitated about the situation at hand, but Adelle was pondering a serious problem and ignored him.
A voice broke through Adelle’s brooding, and she spun, ready to deliver a sharp invective to the person who had dared act against a direct order, but it was just George, tall and golden and beautiful and so much a victim, standing in the doorway with a pleasantly passive expression on his face.
“ – Ready for my treatment.”
Topher, very deliberately not saying a word, gestured for George to cross the room and seat himself in The Chair. Adelle studied George, and remembered when she’d first seen him, a broken runaway who’d ended up past the other side of the tracks and almost drowned himself in the river of humanity that was Los Angeles. In his doll state, he didn’t have the accent that reminded Adelle fiercely of home.
Six more months on his contract, and his very wealthy parents would be pleased at the sane, healthy, confident young man who returned their vast estates in the Southeast.
Topher was distracted from his mime act by pulling up The Pipepline and parameters of the engagement. He’d done the work beforehand, but once Ivy, sleep-deprived and too afraid to confess it, had mixed up the imprints and the dolls, and Topher was one for leaning from mistakes.
He lowered the chair, and the light flared blue. Adelle didn’t even flinch anymore when George hissed, arched his back in pain, but then Topher was raising the chair, and George was no more.
George’s handler, Perry, was a slender slip of a thing, and underestimated by everyone who looked at him.
“Are you ready?” Perry asked.
“Of course,” George said, only he was someone else now, someone who sounded like home, and Adelle wished, for one moment, he could stay for a chat.
(350 words)
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Lies and Truth
“You know what they say.” Gabriel perched on the edge of the railing like a giant eagle, muscles tense, wings quivering with anticipation.
“Depends on who they are and what they’re saying it about.” Kyle watched the rioting mob, the puffs of tear gas and the flailing police batons. He thought it fitting, that the government agents wore black like the demons with whom they’d formed an unholy alliance. He’d been kept awake all night dreading even a glimpse of those shadows in the crowd.
“Lies hurt.”
“Yes.” Kyle slewed a glance at Gabriel, alarmed at his flat tone. Gabriel was never one for stating the obvious.
“Truth kills,” Gabriel said.
Kyle blinked. “Are you allowed to say things like that?”
Gabriel drew a shining steel sword from thin air and hoisted it high. It flashed, like lightning, in the sun. “I wield the Sword of Truth.” And he plummeted from the sky.
Kyle closed his eyes, murmured the same letters he sketched on the railing, and then he flickered from existence. He reappeared on the ground at the edge of the mob, and he began to sing.
(188 words)
“Depends on who they are and what they’re saying it about.” Kyle watched the rioting mob, the puffs of tear gas and the flailing police batons. He thought it fitting, that the government agents wore black like the demons with whom they’d formed an unholy alliance. He’d been kept awake all night dreading even a glimpse of those shadows in the crowd.
“Lies hurt.”
“Yes.” Kyle slewed a glance at Gabriel, alarmed at his flat tone. Gabriel was never one for stating the obvious.
“Truth kills,” Gabriel said.
Kyle blinked. “Are you allowed to say things like that?”
Gabriel drew a shining steel sword from thin air and hoisted it high. It flashed, like lightning, in the sun. “I wield the Sword of Truth.” And he plummeted from the sky.
Kyle closed his eyes, murmured the same letters he sketched on the railing, and then he flickered from existence. He reappeared on the ground at the edge of the mob, and he began to sing.
(188 words)
Cursed
The blisters on the bottom of my feet seared with pain, each step a fresh agony, every mile a torment. Remote hills marched ponderously closer and receded into the distance behind me.
I didn't know where I was going anymore. Didn't know where I had been or what the next rise would show me; I only knew that I had to keep moving forward. Forever wandering. This was my curse and my punishment.
It all seemed so long ago now. A curse placed upon me for an innocent mistake. I thought back on how I had come to be on this long road.
Nadya was as beautiful as the sunrise and as fair as the spring wind and I had made the mistake of falling in love with her. She was of the wandering people. The Romani, the gypsies. They were an old people. With old traditions and old magic. Nadya had been promised to another, but I didn't care. I foolishly persuaded her to run away with me. I was sure we would be happy together.
That was before her mother had found us out. I remember the coldness in her eyes, deep, fathomless eyes that seemed to burn even as they froze. She simply stepped between us. She looked me in they eye and said, "Poate tu rătăcească pe faţa pământului pentru totdeauna, niciodată de două ori dorm in acelasi pat, nu bea apă de două ori din acelaşi bine, şi niciodată nu cruce de două ori acelaşi râu într-un an."
From that moment on I have continuously wandered. Never resting more than a day and never in the same place. It was a long time before I found anyone that could translate the words that had been burned into my memory. And when I did, I finally understood.
May you wander over the face of the earth forever, never sleep twice in the same bed, never drink water twice from the same well, and never cross the same river twice in a year.
I didn't know where I was going anymore. Didn't know where I had been or what the next rise would show me; I only knew that I had to keep moving forward. Forever wandering. This was my curse and my punishment.
It all seemed so long ago now. A curse placed upon me for an innocent mistake. I thought back on how I had come to be on this long road.
Nadya was as beautiful as the sunrise and as fair as the spring wind and I had made the mistake of falling in love with her. She was of the wandering people. The Romani, the gypsies. They were an old people. With old traditions and old magic. Nadya had been promised to another, but I didn't care. I foolishly persuaded her to run away with me. I was sure we would be happy together.
That was before her mother had found us out. I remember the coldness in her eyes, deep, fathomless eyes that seemed to burn even as they froze. She simply stepped between us. She looked me in they eye and said, "Poate tu rătăcească pe faţa pământului pentru totdeauna, niciodată de două ori dorm in acelasi pat, nu bea apă de două ori din acelaşi bine, şi niciodată nu cruce de două ori acelaşi râu într-un an."
From that moment on I have continuously wandered. Never resting more than a day and never in the same place. It was a long time before I found anyone that could translate the words that had been burned into my memory. And when I did, I finally understood.
May you wander over the face of the earth forever, never sleep twice in the same bed, never drink water twice from the same well, and never cross the same river twice in a year.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Speech in Silence
It was a long time before I realized why David was so different from other men, and people in general.
It wasn't the fact that he was gentle, I knew a few men who were just as gentle. It wasn't that he was extremely handsome, though he certainly was. It was simply the fact that he said nothing at all. Ever.
I realized it the day that I ran right into him. The boss had just bawled me out for turning in a project late and I was hurrying back to my desk to finalize the plans for the new high rise that our firm was building in the heart of the city. I wasn't looking where I was going, furiously making notes on my hand held about the specs that needed to be updated and the building codes that had to be checked, when I slammed right into someone, knocking the both of us down amid a flurry of papers.
"I am so sorry!" I exclaimed. I made a grab for some papers that were floating within reach. "I wasn't watching where I was going. It's all my fault," I said.
I finally looked up after gathering the papers and my eyes met Davids.
"David!" I gasped, "I... I didn't know it was you."
He smiled at me and made a calming gesture.
"Are you alright?" I asked, "Is anything missing." I reached out to take his offered hand and stood up straight. David nodded and handed me back my hand held. I could feel my brow furrowing in confusion, "David?"
David simply smiled at me and reached into his pocket for a small pad of paper and a pen. "I'm alright. Are you okay?" he jotted down in a neat hand.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't realized," I stumbled over an apology, embarrassed that I didn't know that he was mute. I felt my face grow red.
"It's alright," I read from his paper, "sometimes silence is also speech.”
It wasn't the fact that he was gentle, I knew a few men who were just as gentle. It wasn't that he was extremely handsome, though he certainly was. It was simply the fact that he said nothing at all. Ever.
I realized it the day that I ran right into him. The boss had just bawled me out for turning in a project late and I was hurrying back to my desk to finalize the plans for the new high rise that our firm was building in the heart of the city. I wasn't looking where I was going, furiously making notes on my hand held about the specs that needed to be updated and the building codes that had to be checked, when I slammed right into someone, knocking the both of us down amid a flurry of papers.
"I am so sorry!" I exclaimed. I made a grab for some papers that were floating within reach. "I wasn't watching where I was going. It's all my fault," I said.
I finally looked up after gathering the papers and my eyes met Davids.
"David!" I gasped, "I... I didn't know it was you."
He smiled at me and made a calming gesture.
"Are you alright?" I asked, "Is anything missing." I reached out to take his offered hand and stood up straight. David nodded and handed me back my hand held. I could feel my brow furrowing in confusion, "David?"
David simply smiled at me and reached into his pocket for a small pad of paper and a pen. "I'm alright. Are you okay?" he jotted down in a neat hand.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't realized," I stumbled over an apology, embarrassed that I didn't know that he was mute. I felt my face grow red.
"It's alright," I read from his paper, "sometimes silence is also speech.”
A Bird In Hand
“Does anyone else think this is unnecessarily cruel?” Sylvia asked.
Sam curled her hand toward her gun; she noticed Dunham do the same. The three seraph-voice with them stood at the mouth of the tunnel, heads cocked, listening to what only they could hear. And then Damien stepped out into the sunlight.
“You know what they say,” he said.
“What do they say?” Jimmy was always distant, hollow-eyed, lost in his own little world.
“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Damien knelt, sketched invisible letters on the cement. Then he drew a knife, and Dunham flinched.
“Wait just a moment, kid,” Dunham began, and who was he to call anyone kid?
“Let him alone,” Sam said, but she flinched too when Damien sliced open his own palm, squeezed, shook his hand to spatter the blood across his invisible letters. And then he murmured under his breath, sounds from a language humans never knew and maybe were never supposed to know.
“So why aren’t we catching him?” Sylvia asked.
“Like the man said, two in the bush,” Jimmy said. He turned to Sam and smiled, and for the first time Sam saw horrifying lucidity in his eyes. “Why catch the one when he can lead us to more?”
Blood and feathers exploded overhead.
(219 words)
Sam curled her hand toward her gun; she noticed Dunham do the same. The three seraph-voice with them stood at the mouth of the tunnel, heads cocked, listening to what only they could hear. And then Damien stepped out into the sunlight.
“You know what they say,” he said.
“What do they say?” Jimmy was always distant, hollow-eyed, lost in his own little world.
“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Damien knelt, sketched invisible letters on the cement. Then he drew a knife, and Dunham flinched.
“Wait just a moment, kid,” Dunham began, and who was he to call anyone kid?
“Let him alone,” Sam said, but she flinched too when Damien sliced open his own palm, squeezed, shook his hand to spatter the blood across his invisible letters. And then he murmured under his breath, sounds from a language humans never knew and maybe were never supposed to know.
“So why aren’t we catching him?” Sylvia asked.
“Like the man said, two in the bush,” Jimmy said. He turned to Sam and smiled, and for the first time Sam saw horrifying lucidity in his eyes. “Why catch the one when he can lead us to more?”
Blood and feathers exploded overhead.
(219 words)
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Devil or Angel
"Time was when angels walked the earth. Now they are not even in heaven," Cody whispered. He rocked back and forth, hands wrapped around his knees.
Agent Dunham stood on the other side of the one-way mirror and watched him intently. "He's crazier than one who flew over the cuckoo's nest."
Sam shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
Dunham raised his eyebrows. Sam could admit his skepticism was warranted; Cody was disheveled and unkempt, his hair and beard greasy and tangled, his clothes torn and stained. He looked like he'd been sleeping in a dumpster. Local PD had picked him up in an alley on the wrong side of town.
"He's a complete and utter nutball," Dunham said.
Sam wouldn't tell Dunham that she'd heard the voice of the angel who accompanied Nicodemus Cohen, that she'd known deep down in the space between her heartbeats that she'd heard the voice of death. But she couldn't hear its voice now.
"He's hiding something," Sam said. "I want to find out what it is." She pushed open the door and laid a file down on the table. "Cody Cohen, we have to talk."
He lifted his head sharply, blinked at her like she'd flipped a light on in a dark room. "A young angel, an old devil," he said.
"Where are the angels now?" Sam asked.
"Gone with the wind," Cody said, and smiled faintly, as if at a distant, happy memory.
"Are they here?" Sam asked.
Cody shook his head. "You know what they used to say?"
"What?" Sam asked patiently.
"When the angels present themselves, the devils abscond." Cody shook his head and laughed. "It's not true anymore."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because you brought them here," Cody said. "You brought the devils and gave them voices, and now they won't go away." He lifted his head and gazed up at her with hollow eyes. "Have you ever seen a person inside out?"
(325 words)
Agent Dunham stood on the other side of the one-way mirror and watched him intently. "He's crazier than one who flew over the cuckoo's nest."
Sam shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
Dunham raised his eyebrows. Sam could admit his skepticism was warranted; Cody was disheveled and unkempt, his hair and beard greasy and tangled, his clothes torn and stained. He looked like he'd been sleeping in a dumpster. Local PD had picked him up in an alley on the wrong side of town.
"He's a complete and utter nutball," Dunham said.
Sam wouldn't tell Dunham that she'd heard the voice of the angel who accompanied Nicodemus Cohen, that she'd known deep down in the space between her heartbeats that she'd heard the voice of death. But she couldn't hear its voice now.
"He's hiding something," Sam said. "I want to find out what it is." She pushed open the door and laid a file down on the table. "Cody Cohen, we have to talk."
He lifted his head sharply, blinked at her like she'd flipped a light on in a dark room. "A young angel, an old devil," he said.
"Where are the angels now?" Sam asked.
"Gone with the wind," Cody said, and smiled faintly, as if at a distant, happy memory.
"Are they here?" Sam asked.
Cody shook his head. "You know what they used to say?"
"What?" Sam asked patiently.
"When the angels present themselves, the devils abscond." Cody shook his head and laughed. "It's not true anymore."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because you brought them here," Cody said. "You brought the devils and gave them voices, and now they won't go away." He lifted his head and gazed up at her with hollow eyes. "Have you ever seen a person inside out?"
(325 words)
A Garden in My Pocket
"Found one!" I called out in excitement.
I pounced in glee when my eyes fell on a pocket version of my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. Ann and I were following our usual Saturday ritual of combing through old book stores for rare finds.
I thumbed through the slightly wrinkled pages, noting the slight water damage to the edges. The print was excruciatingly small, but I didn't mind too much. Not when I had the opportunity to carry it with me anywhere.
"Susan, are you finished?" Ann called out to me from the front of the store. I smiled in response to my friend, though she couldn't see me at the moment. I could always count on Ann to join me in a book hunt.
I stepped around the end of a shelf and spotted my friend. She was petite, with red hair and bright blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose.
"What did you find?" Ann asked.
"A copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. And it's small enough to carry anywhere," I said with excitement.
"But you have at least four copies of that book already," Ann laughed. We quickly payed for our purchases.
"But this one I can take anywhere. After all a book is like a garden carried in the pocket," I said.
I pounced in glee when my eyes fell on a pocket version of my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. Ann and I were following our usual Saturday ritual of combing through old book stores for rare finds.
I thumbed through the slightly wrinkled pages, noting the slight water damage to the edges. The print was excruciatingly small, but I didn't mind too much. Not when I had the opportunity to carry it with me anywhere.
"Susan, are you finished?" Ann called out to me from the front of the store. I smiled in response to my friend, though she couldn't see me at the moment. I could always count on Ann to join me in a book hunt.
I stepped around the end of a shelf and spotted my friend. She was petite, with red hair and bright blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose.
"What did you find?" Ann asked.
"A copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. And it's small enough to carry anywhere," I said with excitement.
"But you have at least four copies of that book already," Ann laughed. We quickly payed for our purchases.
"But this one I can take anywhere. After all a book is like a garden carried in the pocket," I said.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Project Assignment #86 - Proverbs
Sorry for this one coming in so late in the day. But this week is Proverbs.
Have fun let's keep it to 350 words.
Posting may be light from me. It's coming up on the end of the semester, but I will try to post as often as I can.
Have fun let's keep it to 350 words.
Posting may be light from me. It's coming up on the end of the semester, but I will try to post as often as I can.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Overview #85: Allusions
I had fun with this. One songfic, one mad Bible reference, and some movie references. I wasn't as steady as I wanted to be with posting this week, but I had fun, and I got to explore the ways in which we communicate in shorthand - namely, with allusions. The new job is out to kill me, but I'm always glad to get in the writing I did. I'm getting the feel of the Seraph-verse boys and girls more. When I first started out, I thought I'd like Kyle the best, but maybe I do kind of like Cody. A lot. I didn't think much of Marsh as a character, but readers seemed to like him. I need to do more work with Agent Sam Samuels, but I think I'm getting the hang of her, and I'm liking the way the angels themselves are developing personalities.
Of course, I know the boys of Sector Five the best, and I was really pleased at what came out with their conversation. Here's to having more energy to post regularly next week.
Of course, I know the boys of Sector Five the best, and I was really pleased at what came out with their conversation. Here's to having more energy to post regularly next week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)