Tiny Story Time

Stream of consciousness*

*Note: Wrote this at work and having a weird week, so read with caution. 

Have you ever had one of those moments when:

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A Day in the Home of a Nightmare

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A Murder

“Umm…. Monday! It was monday when I saw him. Officer are you going to put him away? I mean a man like that in this day and age should be-“

Detective Chambers put up a hand, doing his best to make her stop. 

“Mrs. Calloway, thank you for your testimony but you have to wait until the trial. Of course we will let you know when that is and if we need any further information.” 

The woman pulled a sour face and took a breath to start yet another tirade. 

“A trial?! I hardly think that’s necessary with this kind of irrefutable-“

Wiling himself to not roll his eyes, Chambers interrupted her again. 

“Mrs. Calloway, we must follow the law in this matter. And the law has adapted for cases like these. But for now, I have to let you go. As a reminder, please do not leave this plain of existence or communicate with the press until the trial is closed. Again, thank you for your help and we’ll be in touch.”

With a curt gesture, he banished the ghost before she could say anything else. Running a hand through his hair, Chambers stood up from the table with a grunt. Sighing, he grabbed a bottle of water and placed it in front of the now convulsing man. 

As the man gasped, Detective Chambers recited “Sir, thank you for volunteering for our Out of Body Testimonial Program. Your help in this investigation will be noted and presented to the parole board when your case is up for review. Possession effects us all differently and there may be some disorientation. Please make sure you are fully hydrated and aware of yourself before exiting.” 

Nodding to the prison guard waiting to take the volunteer away, Chambers left the interview room. Murder cases were bad enough, but he hated the ones where the ghost stuck around to testify. It just made for too much paperwork. 

Things I have learned: Creative Burn Out

Creative burn out is not fun.

It is the exact polar opposite of fun. 

It’s like falling off a cliff into a dimly lit void. You can just make out the ground, and it’s a long way away. But all you can do is fall towards it, thinking about impact.

Occasionally, you see something that could stop your fall. 

You reach for it. Touch it. But then, it slips out of your grasp and your back to falling.

The ground has gotten that much closer and all you can do is wait for the hit. Hopefully, when you land, you  can pull all your pieces back together. Or, at least knocking your brain around will make you think of something almost new. 

That’s how Creative Burn out works. And it sucks 99.9% of the time. 

But then, there is the .1% of the time when you get lucky.

You remember you had something in your pocket that can save you. And you use that trinket, bit of obscure knowledge, or comfy old writing device to slowly stop your fall and climb out of the pit. 

Today I told my boss “I feel like I couldn’t tell shit from diamonds today.” He then looked at me and said in all seriousness “Diamonds don’t smell.” Then he told me I had written a good line. 

Science

The thing hissed, and Dan stepped back. 

Until this very moment, Dan didn’t believe something could be as horrific and pitiable as this. He had seen attack dogs about to be put down and evil men beaten to breaking in prison. But nothing could prepare you for this. 

The thing hissed again, and tired to move. But it’s legs wouldn’t oblige. All eighteen of them didn’t seem to want to go the same direction. And where the feathers ended and the scales began looked strange and painful. There were four to a cage, but none of the animals seemed to want to interact with one another. 

It was almost like they knew they were an abomination, and were angry that they existed. Nothing about this was right, but hardly anyone knew about these things. Those that did slapped the mental label of “progress” on the creatures and ignored it. 

It snapped it’s short sharp teeth at Dan, and he took another step back. The rage in the creatures bright eyes was almost palpable. He couldn’t look away. 

A scientist paying too much attention to a file in his hands nearly tripped over Dan’s equipment. 

“Hey! What are you-?”

Following Dan’s gaze the researcher let out a quick frustrated breath. 

“You must be new. Those are the chicken lizards. Chicken parts, breed like lizards, better than both. It’s already revolutionizing the fast food industry. They can’t hurt you and you should really get back to work.”

Dan nodded once and moved his cart out of the man’s way. The scientist hurried on down the hall while Dan finished mopping the floor. 

He had seen a lot of things as a janitor. But Dan didn’t think he would ever be able to eat a chicken nugget again. It would just remind him of that poor creature’s eyes. 

Things I have learned: Cannabis

Watching a special on PBS on plants that have adapted to humans working with them. It never occurred to me that to grow Marijuana indoors, it had to be cross bread with another type of Cannabis. Apparently the weed that is grown in doors today was a cross blend of tropical plant that primarily came from Mexico and a blend of cannabis that comes from india. Also the bud size is made larger by separating female plants from male plants. 

Huh. 

The special also kind of alludes to plants making sentient decisions. I wonder if years from now we will figure out how plants communicate and discover they have been sentient this whole time. I bet then there will be a rash of people only wanting to eat food that has been created and produced in a lab, so no organic beings are hurt. :P 

Edit: The show just started talking about potatoes. Apparently potatoes in the wild are poisonous. 

Pain-Proof: Becoming the Lady Aye

You’re never supposed to tell, but the secret to a bed of nails is that it hurts. It hurts a lot. But generally speaking, you’re on your back for fewer than 90 seconds, and by the time the tender flesh of your back meets the cold, sharp tines of the nails, your brain has downshifted into pure animal machismo…. READ THE REST 

This is the most heart wrenching story I have read today. It is also inspiring and made of pure amazing. 

Loss

Oh no, not again. 

tilt to the left! 

no no no 

more to the right! 

oh no i’m loosing it! 

no! nonononononoooo-

*splat* 

The final bit of tortilla drooped mournfully as he looked down at the perfect chunk of meat, beans and rice now sitting mockingly on the floor. 

I always loose the best part….. 

(This was inspired by my lunch) 

Silly Goose

“Ugh! It was all so much easier before!”

Across the table, Dottie pretended to agree and sipped her tea. Ignoring the other woman, Willow continued her weekly petulant rant. 

“I mean all the dresses, and the perfect manners, and the utensils! It’s all just a disgustingly bureaucratic way to live! And it’s so useless in the end. Not a one of those fuddy-duddies knows how to have a good time!” 

Pouting, Willow remembered to have some tea and Dottie finally got a word in edgewise. 

“Well yes dear, it does take some getting use to. But once you do…” 

With slight crack, Willow’s teacup returned to it’s saucer. Dottie looked a bit alarmed, but Willow ignored it in favor of waving dramatically. 

“Getting use to?! Oh Dottie, that is all so easy for YOU to say!  But I miss the open air, the stars at night, running without a care! It’s so lonely here, and these hands are positively beastly! I mean really…” 

Dottie rolled her eyes internally and tuned Willow out. As a goose in her previous life, she had lived with humans before being changed. Plus her wizard, the Lord Fitzrory was quite kind to her. So yes, she missed her wings every now and again but it wasn’t so bad. 

But good lord did she hope Lord Barnabus would stop picking predators to be his transformed familiars. They all just became prima donnas when taken out of their natural habitat, and complained bitterly. Eventually, something or other always drove them away and Barnabus would try again. Willow had been a young wolf, and Dottie sensed she was near her breaking point. With a mental grin, the transformed goose decided to help her along. 

Interrupting her companion, Dottie pointed to the edge of the woods out the window. 

“Oh my! I think I saw a wolf out there! Perhaps it is one of your pack-mates, come to find you? I dare say that….” 

With a girlish squeal, Willow was out the door and away. Chucking quietly to herself, Dottie finished her tea. 

This time she would ask if Lord Fitzroy could help poor Lord Barnabus pick a more reliable breed of familiar. The two wizards were the best of friends, and he just couldn’t keep wasting magic on things that would ultimately run off now could he? Perhaps a hen this time? Yes, a hen would do nicely. 

fatandgeeky:

thesulfurandthesigh:

I am laughing so hard it hurts, 

I need this book in my life 

(Source: thesulfurandthesea)