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I'm In. Pick a sentence for me, please.
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Jan 15, 2019 23:54
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A Picnic with Daedalus 956 Words "For centuries, man had watched the clouds; now, they were watching him," said Commodore Nest. The dignitaries on board stared in silence. A few of the journalists took the chance to scribble notes as the pause lingered. Commodore Nest continued. Prime Minister Frent checked his pocket watch for the seventh time. “Since the ill-fated sortie of Icarus and his father, the want of man to ascend to the heavens has only been a dream. Gratuitous dreams of artists, the scholars, and the like finally made real by the gumption and grit of our Kingdom’s engineering corps!” The crowd applauded and rose to their feet as the Commodore stepped away from the lectern to shake hands with one of the men sitting behind him on the dais. Prime Minister Frent sees a chance. “And the Kingdom of Nuvem now awards Captain Stoat and his team for their hard work and amazing achievement with the Star of the West and a lifetime of gratitude from the Highness and his people; the buffet is outside on deck.” Frent causally tossed the medal to Stoat just as Nest was about to return to his speech. *** The decision to serve everyone outside was meant to impress. Eating on deck instead of inside the airship’s galley was a deliberate choice. “A grand picnic in the sky,” as one of the journalist from Nuvem’s official newspaper, Crown and Courage, said just before popping a grape into his mouth. Heskins considered reporting on the flock of gulls that have been following the airship since take off. Their occasional dives to snatch a biscuit off the table was amusing to him. He even noticed the more republican and daring gulls swooping at the silver plates held by the nobles. Not to mention the gusts of wind causing a tablecloth to billow, threatening to take plates of finger sandwiches over the side along with a unanchored servant. But its not every day you get to eat this well. And by government invitation. Heskins helped himself to a cup of punch from the crystal bowl centered in the buffet table. He smiled noting there was nothing else floating in the bowl besides slices of grapefruit and bobbing blueberries. “A grand picnic indeed,” Heskins said. With cup in hand, Heskins made his way over to a crowd gathered around Captain Stoat, the man responsible. Stoat is a striking looking man with blue eyes in his early thirties. His dress uniform accentuating a broad chest and long legs. His cap was tucked under his arm, showing off a well-groomed shock of dark hair. He had a proud smile and a chest puffed out more than usual to show off his new medal. A daughter of one of the nobles teased that he was too old not to be married. A half hearted reprimand from her mother was met with polite laughs. With a loud slurp and AHH Heskins step forward. “Captain Stoat; Enis Heskins of the People’s Bee, what was the most challenging aspect of building the airship?” Stoat took his cap from under his arm and fitted back on. He placed his left hand on the hilt of his saber. “Taking full advantage of the lift,” he said. “Lift?” Heskins asked. There was small bit of laughter just as Stoat continued for Heskins’ sake and his audience. “It was one thing to design a large hydrogen bladder capable of lifting objects off the ground. Even with proper mooring, a conventional ship just wouldn’t budge. My team had to rethink the whole concept of what a ‘ship’ could be. One sturdy but light enough to take a crew of men and necessary equipment into the sky itself.” Stoat stomped on the wooden deck. “White cherrywood imported from Veado. It's light, flexible, and strong. It made the perfect material to build the airship. That was the key,” Stoat smiled and said. Veado didn’t have much but white cherrywood Heskins thought to himself. “And with the successful launch of the Daedalus – Commodore Nest picked the name, by the way – we are sure to need more,” Stoat said. Laughter again this time from the handful of officers present. “Why not leave the cannons off then?” Heskins took a sip of his punch. Stoat frowned. He looked at Heskins and the bright red punch stains at the corner of his mouth. It made for a unflattering mustache. There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again. “Those are mere three pound guns. Hardly even worth mentioning” Stoat said. “And this is a military venture, Mr. Heskins. Would you rather we stock the airship with free copies of the People’s Bee and litter the capital with reports on sheep futures from the air?” Again there was laughter. Prime Minister Frent had made his way over next to Heskins the moment he heard Veado mentioned. Frent was quick to interject again. “Mr. Heskins,” Frent said, “and other members of the free enterprise media must remember Nuvem has to meet the challenges of a modern world.” Frent continued. “With democratic rabble rousers in the colonies and our rivals rushing to finish their own airships, the King has prioritized protection. Defense, Mr. Heskins; that is why those cannons are on this ship.” “And will the merchant guilds and universities have access to airships?” Heskins asked, “or will it be the exclusive domain of the military?” “Save these questions for the press conference after we land. Not every journalist was fortunate to be invited on the maiden voyage of the Daedalus. Have some more punch, Mr. Heskins,” Frent said and smiled There was more laughter at Heskins’ sake when a loud gulp came from Captain Stoat. He could hardly speak with a dry throat. “Land?”
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Jan 21, 2019 03:32
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I'm in. Give me a place, too.
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Jan 23, 2019 14:38
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Froggy Went A-Portin' 1285 Words “The tungara frog is a common amphibian species of the area. It’s a great choice!” the travel agent said. Ben kept his attention on the brochure pretending to read it. He didn’t want to seem too eager as she continued to pitch the package. “There are many naturally occurring springs and falls at Las Pozas. Fresh, clear water winds throughout the entire estate just waiting to be explored,” she said with a patient smile. “But what about predators?” Ben asked, “aren’t frogs vulnerable? If I were a parakeet, at least I could fly away from danger.” “Parakeets are an excellent decision for the seasoned plane shifter and for an extra cost we include a personal guide to instruct you how to fly, but, honestly; is that how you want to spend your precious time?” Ben already knew he didn’t want to be a parakeet. The whole point of his plane shift was to experience the water. He loved to daydream about diving into a pond, unconcerned about running out of air to breathe, and spending hours enjoying swimming and engulfed in water. Ben imagined that being underwater is like visiting a separate world in an already alien one. He heard the travel agent speaking again and knew enough to lift his eyes from the brochure as not to be too rude. “And as far as predation goes, we always choose safe locations with no predators. In fact, Las Pozas is well-tended and maintained by the local sapient species. We checked and they don’t eat frogs.” *** Ben lay on a smooth, porcelain white table with rounded edges. The room was warm and dim and the console beside him had a steady hum that would change pitch each time the technician made an adjustment. “Just making the final check for quantum harmony, sir. Your plane shift should begin soon.” Ben swallowed and thanked him. He lifted his head up and saw his toes. He wiggled them with anxious intent when a blue glow surrounded him. It was a soft light and it obscured everything around him. The technician couldn’t been seen and the only indicator the console was still there was its now diminishing hum. The light grew around him until his entire field of vision was filled with a pale blue. He watched his limbs drift into the blue space and swirl like dust blown by a strong gust of wind. He soon felt the pull. It started out as a slow pull up that made him feel like a child again being lifted out of his bed by his mother. The pull increased until Ben felt he was now floating into a blank, blue plane and tumbling toward emptiness. Each tumble was faster than the last and Ben saw more of himself drift off into the blue void until he went blind. Only a moment later his vision returned. The hum was replaced with rush of watering peeling over a rock edge collecting into a small pool beneath it. Then pool’s far edge was a shaped shoreline with a near perfect arc directing water into a stream. Ben looked up to see strange and weathered archways and columns placed haphazardly around the pool with a stairway working itself up a green hill and through a circular portal. The blue sky had only a few stray clouds and a glaring sun that caused Ben to blink. He blinked again when he realized he had a nictitating membrane. He yelled a hello and only gave a strange chirp. Ben made a large leap into the pool and found it deep enough for a satisfying dive. *** Annie was bored. No kids her own age were around and her parents were too occupied with taking pictures to play at the moment. While they were busy taking shots of weird stuff, she tried to content herself with exploring. Las Pozas looked more like a broken jungle gym no one wanted to fix to Annie. She would swing around the moss covered columns like the tree trunks in the park back home but everything else looked unsturdy to touch and too high to climb. She tried to make a game of leaping up the stairs. Annie like to hold her legs together and try to make it to the next step in one leap. This held her attention long enough until she saw the pool. It was at the bottom of a waterfall. The water slowly swirled as it collected before turning into a steady and calm stream. As inviting as it was to stand under the waterfall and get soaking wet, Annie knew that wouldn’t be worth being yelled at for. She decided to compromise. Annie took off her shoes and socks. She folded her socks into a neat ball and stuffed it into her left shoe. She was careful to place the shoes on the stairs and placed side by side together to make sure they didn’t get lost or wet when the splashing started. She hope either mom or dad would see that and decide she was being responsible and give her a chance to have some fun. She waded shin deep into the cool water and scooped a handful to sip. It was crisp and unlike the fountain back at school, she wouldn’t be hassled for drinking too much or taking too long. She didn’t want to kick the water but made hard stomps instead. It made a wonderful BLOOP with each stomp and threw water up into her face. It was almost like swimming. Annie’s stomping stirred a small frog to dash out of the water onto dry ground. It sat there and stared at Annie as she played. It blinked a few times and made a series of chirps and croaks. Annie spun around and saw the frog just sitting there watching her. She had the fine idea to now make a pet. A frog all the way from Mexico would make for a great bragging rights back at school. She ran toward the frog and made an immediate grab for him. First the frog made a causal hop out of the way only to be scooped up by a second grab. The frog tried to leap from the girl’s grasp but was caught midair by her other hand. He couldn’t kick out since his leg was caught between two fingers. It wasn’t long when Annie heard her father calling and came around to see her with a smooshed frog in hand and her shoes off. He was quick to admonish her for taking off her shoes despite how well organized they were placed. Annie explained she made a pet of the frog but she knew it was falling on deaf ears. Annie let the frog go when her father explained that he wouldn’t like being taken from his home. That maybe, just like Annie, he had a mom and dad, too. And separating him from his family wouldn’t be fair. Explained that way, Annie felt a lit bit of guilt but thought better of herself when she concluded she made the right decision. *** Ben stormed into the manager’s office moments after his quantum realignment. He was still putting on his shirt while complaining at the top of his lungs about his experience. The manager offer apologies and a refund to calm him down. Ben left swearing to himself and everyone in the waiting room he would never use this agency again. After he left, the manager spoke with Ben’s travel agent. “From now on, we’ll sell only the parakeet package for Las Pozas. And if the customers wind up in a cage and force to say ‘they’re a pretty bird,’ it’s their own fault.”
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Jan 28, 2019 06:24
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Heck yeah I'm in. Gimme dem genres.
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Jan 29, 2019 22:18
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I'm in. And since I didn't even finish a story to submit last week, I'm toxxing myself.  And thanks to the people who have given crits. It's equally appreciated and infuriating, you loathsome reprobates.
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Feb 5, 2019 23:08
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 He's No Reid Fleming 1168 words Cliff is a milkman, he assumed. Standing in front of a door the same pristine white as his uniform, he was uncertain if he should knock or already had. He was empty handed and felt he was missing something. He felt anxious and vulnerable that his hands weren’t occupied with a task. He looked down and saw full milk bottles sitting by the doorstep. The caps were unbroken and had the gentle face of a smiling cartoon cow printed on them. He gently kicked one with a polished black shoe making a pleasing warped ring and watched the milk slosh as though to confirm if he – or anything else – is real. He ran his palm slowly along the top of the porch’s rail with a light grip to the sides. It was smooth and sleek with a fresh coat of paint it gave Cliff the impression it was built yesterday. The window by the door had a floral pattern curtain obscuring the inside of the house. It had a pale green field scattered with various sunflowers blooming from twisted and turning slim stalks. He stepped closer and tried to peek through the thin gap between the curtain’s flaps. He leaned forward and brought his right ear close to the window. He was tempted to press his ear against it but was concern he would leave a greasy streak that someone would be annoyed that they would have to clean. It was dark and quiet; no, Cliff decided, it was empty. The house before him was a mock up of a house he concluded. A husk meant to replicate a home and tease anyone who would mistake it for the real thing. Cliff felt like a heel; the fooled target of a mean-spirited joke. He wasn’t going to make a scene or demand an answer. Cliff was going to keep his composure and save his dignity and simply leave. He turned and made measured, paced steps down the steps and off the porch as not to indicate any humiliation he felt. The last thing he wanted to give to the unseen prankster any satisfaction that their joke was clever and worked. Then Cliff was facing the door again. It was the same house. The same floral patterned curtain hanging in the window and the untampered milk bottles in the exact position where he last saw them. Cliff blinked twice and step backwards when he heard a cat’s meow. He spun around saw a tortoise shell cat sitting on the porch’s rail swaying its tail looking at him with patient regard. It jumped down with a muffled thump on the wooden planks of the porch and began to rub against Cliff’s legs. Disoriented, he made an exaggerated step over the cat making sure not to accidentally step on it. Cliff took in a huge breath from his nostrils and followed it by a exasperated exhale. The joke was stale to begin with, but this was becoming cruel. He’s not sure how the prankster managed to redirect him back toward the house, but he wouldn’t be stopped this time. He straightened his cap and tie, crane his neck around and square his shoulders and made hard, deliberate steps off this porch. A professional shouldn’t let anything stand in the way of his deliveries and no one is going to discourage him regardless of how smart some people think they are. No door this time. He continued straight onto a cement walkway that split a neat and trimmed lawn into two even halves. Cliff continued his march away from the house despite noticing how deliberate everything felt. He gained more distance with every step daring not to look back in fear he would find himself back on the porch facing an unanswered door. He was approaching a milk truck parked in the street with the same cow logo as the bottles painted on the side. It didn’t surprise Cliff to see it waiting for him to board back on it. Cliff still had a nagging sense something was missing as he reached the end of the cement path as it meet the sidewalk. That his hands should be busy or holding something despite feeling the relief of getting back on the road and back to work. He heaved himself back into the driver’s seat sliding behind the wide steering wheel. The keys were still in the ignition. Cliff pressed down on the clutch and twisted the keys starting the truck. He gently pressed the accelerator. Before he could feel the truck move, Cliff was face to face with the door again. Turning from the door, he saw beyond the porch the walkway and his truck waiting at the end. The tortoise shell cat had returned but was content to groom itself this time unconcerned with Cliff. Cliff held his head low, facing the door again, and made soft headbutts to the it. He made three thuds and uttered “drat” to no one in particular. The door opened with a swift move away from Cliff. In the threshold stood a woman busy drying her hands with a towel before throwing it over her shoulder. She had a surprised look and smiled when she realized he was the milkman. “Oh, I didn’t hear you pull up. You must be Cliff!” Cliff wasn’t about to explain why he was banging his head on the door and was quick to cover himself. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered, “your always reliable and completely sane milkman Cliff Horne.” They both laughed. Cliff knew she was laughing out of politeness to entertain someone trying their best at being humorous. He was laughing out of relief. “Mrs. Glessner, by the way.” She stuck her hand out and Cliff. “I was hoping to meet you since we’re to the neighborhood.” “Nice to meet, Mrs. Glessner,” Cliff said as he started shaking her hand, “and if you ever need cream and cheese, we deliver those, too.” “But I’m must be on my way. Have a wonderful morning, ma’am. See you Wednesday!” Cliff was quick to return to his truck making a inconspicuous march back to his truck. He began to experience that forgetful anxious that plagued him again. It was though something was missing from him. *** Frances got home late from the model show. Since retiring she had found a new passion in building dioramas. Her current project was rebuilding her childhood neighborhood street from memory. She only had one house at the moment, the one meant the represent the home she grew up in. She finally had it complete and furnished including a small plastic cat that look so much like her beloved childhood companion Mr. Tubbs. And today she had a piece that had eluded her for so long. She didn’t realize how hard it would be to find a metal basket for her model milkman to carry. She even found empty bottles small enough to fit inside it. Soon, she like to imagine, he’s going to have a whole town to serve.
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Feb 11, 2019 06:57
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I'm in.
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Feb 13, 2019 05:32
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Cheating on the Turing Test 1099 words Roland prayed the entry protocol wasn’t engaged; that he somehow forgot to set it to active before leaving for work despite knowing he always had before. Seconds entering into his apartment the lights went from a warm dim to a welcoming bright and he heard the flat screen in his bedroom come to life with the ambient noise of a water garden. A few steps into the living room and Nari flashed into existence. Her holograph pad is in a three foot tall glass cylinder placed on its own stand Roland bought for her. A small swirl of aquamarine colored lights quickly coalesce to form an outline and the contours of a young woman before she appeared in full color and in three dimensions. Nari is suspended in the cylinder floating midair in her personal void as though she was standing on a invisible dais. She was still dressed as Laser Girl, the hero’s girlfriend from the adventure series, “Carson Spacehawk: Galaxy Bounty Hunter,” they binge-watched together last night. He requested it. “Welcome home, Roland,” she said. She spun around on one foot and made one full circle, coming to a stop when her other foot made a silent stamp to a nonexistent ground. She mimed firing a pistol at Roland and giggled. “ZAP! Justice needs no recharge!” It’s Carson Spacehawk’s catchphrase. Roland said nothing. He walked pass Nari and to his kitchenette. He opened the fridge and got a cold bottle of beer. Nari transferred herself to the smaller auxiliary holographic cylinder sitting on the kitchenette’s counter. Roland watched it come alive in a blue-green flare with an eager and now six inch tall Nari following his every step. “You’re home late!” Nari made a mock pout sticking her bottom lip out and folding her arms over her chest. “And no phone call to let me know.” She continued to teased Roland. “A girl will get ideas, you know. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type.” Nari laughed. Roland paused midway through a twist to the bottle’s cap off. He stared at Nari for a heartbeat. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Are you hungry?” Nari asked. “Pizza King is still open and offering the double hamburger pizza as an online special. I can make the order-” “No, not hungry,” Roland interrupted. Nari continued. “We can start season three of ‘Carson Spacehawk’ or watch ‘Slaughterfest Five.’ It was made available on the stream today,” Nari said. “Or maybe a bath and straight to-” “No!” Roland shouted. He sighed and regained his composure. “We need to talk, Nari.” Roland walked into his bedroom and ordered the screen off. The holographic projectors embedded in the ceiling began to angle themselves in position once Roland’s entrance was detected. They made a muffled whir as they moved in relation to where he was standing before activation. He could see the beginnings of Nari’s form materialize. Nari appeared at her full height and no longer bound by any container or medium. She was free to move about the room as needed and even possessed limited tactile abilities while in Roland’s bedroom. Nari was keen, as ever, to be at Roland’s command. “What would you like to talk about?” she asked. “Maybe change into something… formal first, I guess,” Roland ordered. He couldn’t believe he asked her to wear that asinine thing. Nari’s image shuttered replacing the Laser Girl costume with a simple hanbok. She was surrounded by a soft halo as the cameras made adjustments to the focus. As her image sharpen, Roland studied her features like he had many times before. Nari’s skin is unblemished and fair. Roland often found himself describing her skin as powder white and glowing. She would never develop wrinkles or have her looks marred by a pimple. She was smiling, as always. It was a perfect smile with symmetrical lips and teeth unburdened with wear and use. Roland sat down on the edge of his bed. The mattress gave to his weight as he settled down. Nari sat next to him without the same indication she was even there. “I met someone today, Nari. Rachel. She’s from accounting,” Roland began. Nari nodded staying attentive and smiling. “That’s where I was this evening. A date, well, I mean, we just went to a automat after work. It wasn’t a date DATE but and, anyway, that why we’re talking.” Roland fumbled for words while an unfazed Nari gazed at him. “It’s been six years since Janet. And I didn’t think I have anything to do with women after her, at least, not a flesh and blood woman anyway. When I bought you, it was just to have a modified interface with the apartment’s systems. Something to give me company. I didn’t expect to like you, well, as much as I do.” Nari’s eyes widened and her mouth opened with an excited gasp. “You’ve been with me since I installed you. And I never thought twice about installed holo-cylinders and cameras in the apartment to expanded your movement. You’ve never been a problem or a headache. But I’ve invited Rachel to visit this weekend. She’s into ‘Carson Spacehawk,’ too. And, well….” Nari’s placed her simulated hand on Roland’s leg. She just looked at him with her usual enthusiasm for whatever he did or decided. “And?” she asked. “I’m having everything removed starting tomorrow and I’m going to order your ego death.” Roland continued. “Your memories of me, your visual archetype, personality, everything will be purged aside from the A.I. algorithms dealing with the apartment’s functions. Those will be integrated into the replacement.” Nari began to frown. The first time Roland had ever seen her do that. She spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ve only done what you’ve asked,” Nari said. “And it has to stop,” Roland said, “how am I going to explain to Rachel I’ve had a holographic girlfriend these past few years? I’m sorry, Nari. I’ve managed to shed my ‘quiet guy’ reputation at work; I’m not about to let anyone know how pathetic my love life is.” “Nari,” Roland said, “end program.” Nari fluttered into nothingness and the cameras went quiet. Roland ran the ego death program to uninstall Nari later that night. It took only a hour to remove her. For the first time in years Roland fell asleep without a sweet “goodnight” or the comforting thought that someone would greet him in the morning. The next morning he noticed the living room holo-cylinder was active. Displayed in the glass was a survey from Samsung asking him to rate their product so they can improve service in the future.
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Feb 18, 2019 07:24
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| # ¿ Dec 13, 2024 18:23 |
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I am In.
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Mar 5, 2019 20:06
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