I've been single for what seems like a long time. To me, I should say, because naturally how we perceive time varies based on our age, our experiences, and other qualia.
Lately, the fact that I am single has been hitting me rather hard. It is not always a big deal (sure it would be nice to not have to deal with it again, but I can generally handle being single because less responsibility). Recently, however, I have been noticing all the missed connections I have with people. Or connections that I maybe haven't missed, but perhaps still haven't addressed yet.
I know how silly it can sound, making a love life so important. But I've seen some people I've been intrigued by lately, but despite my intentions to not miss those connections, I have been prevented from taking action. Mostly by circumstance, not by my unwillingness to talk to people. After all, if you pass a stranger on the street (fyi- just an example, I'm not literally approaching random people on the street, in case you were wondering), and you're into them but say nothing... you may never have a chance to say anything to them again. It's just how things go.
So, I've been a bit disappointed that I've missed some opportunities to get to know more about those intriguing people. Then there are the people who I like, but despite my efforts to get to know them better, it is unusually difficult. I suppose I should give myself a bit of credit, I am putting forth effort, but the connection with those people are also kinda vague. Nebulous, minor connections. I'm still working on them, but I think I may have to face the fact that it may never be a strong connection, regardless of how much time I put into it.
I long for connection with others. I feel I'm missing out on it somehow. And although I want the circumstances to change, I don't want to have to completely change who I am or how I operate just for a chance that something might happen. Maybe it is that very stubbornness to change that has led me to the point where I am. Approaching 30 years old, with less than 6 months of time in 'significant other' relationships under my belt for experience. Not sure what to do. And, for those who are reading, sorry if this isn't my normal fantasy short story type of post, but then again, the prompts do seem to imply occasionally writing real stuff, and this is Fantasy or Reality. So, today I'm being real. I hate missed connections.
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Monday, March 12, 2018
Great Minds
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Albert Einstein. Nikola Tesla. Benjamin Franklin. Galleo Galilei. Blaise Pascal. Gottfried Wilhelm. Leonardo DiVinci.
These were just a few of the great minds that have shaped the course of human history. And now, he was ready to be the next. Filbert Hilbarington, entrepreneur, inventor, philosopher, artist, and scientist. Everyone would remember his name. It would be in history textbooks, biology texts, mathematical proofs would be named after him, as would various elements.
Just one... last... tweak... done! Finally, his time to take his rightful place in the annals of history had come. Filbert Hilbarington climbed into his bed, and turned on the device attached to the headboard. It popped out, and over his face, and he began the launch sequence.
In a matter of moments, his bed was swirling around him. Colors and sounds, flying past, as he made the leap to another universe, one farther back in time... one thing he had forgotten to add to his time machine bed: a way to properly coordinate its position to match the same relative position to the planet, instead of the same absolute position in space.
Nobody ever heard of Filbert Hilbarington again, but several millennia later, an oddity was discovered when what appeared to be a bed was found entering Earth's gravity from space.
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
These were just a few of the great minds that have shaped the course of human history. And now, he was ready to be the next. Filbert Hilbarington, entrepreneur, inventor, philosopher, artist, and scientist. Everyone would remember his name. It would be in history textbooks, biology texts, mathematical proofs would be named after him, as would various elements.
Just one... last... tweak... done! Finally, his time to take his rightful place in the annals of history had come. Filbert Hilbarington climbed into his bed, and turned on the device attached to the headboard. It popped out, and over his face, and he began the launch sequence.
In a matter of moments, his bed was swirling around him. Colors and sounds, flying past, as he made the leap to another universe, one farther back in time... one thing he had forgotten to add to his time machine bed: a way to properly coordinate its position to match the same relative position to the planet, instead of the same absolute position in space.
Nobody ever heard of Filbert Hilbarington again, but several millennia later, an oddity was discovered when what appeared to be a bed was found entering Earth's gravity from space.
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Cleaning
The princess, at seeing how terribly messy the place had been, decided she was going to clean it before they got back from the mines.
Calling out in her most cheerful voice, she began to sing a happy tune. Whistling while she cleaned. Before long, the various animals of the surrounding area overheard her beautiful singing, and came to her side to help clean.
When the dwarves finally returned home, they were horrified by what they saw. The sink was filled with birds, splashing about. The rafters had rats running to and fro. A deer in the corner had eaten their house plant. Squirrels had poached their cabinet of all the nuts they had saved up for pie. And the stench. OH, the stench. It seemed that in every nook and cranny of their hut, there were droppings from the animals.
"That is it! You must go!" They said to the princess, upon realizing she had invited the animals into their home. And they evicted her, without a second thought.
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Calling out in her most cheerful voice, she began to sing a happy tune. Whistling while she cleaned. Before long, the various animals of the surrounding area overheard her beautiful singing, and came to her side to help clean.
When the dwarves finally returned home, they were horrified by what they saw. The sink was filled with birds, splashing about. The rafters had rats running to and fro. A deer in the corner had eaten their house plant. Squirrels had poached their cabinet of all the nuts they had saved up for pie. And the stench. OH, the stench. It seemed that in every nook and cranny of their hut, there were droppings from the animals.
"That is it! You must go!" They said to the princess, upon realizing she had invited the animals into their home. And they evicted her, without a second thought.
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Dictionary Definition
Behindhand - late, tardy; behind in progress, backwards; in debt or arrears
When you are behindhand in getting home by curfew, your behind gets the hand. Specifically, when you're late, you're going to feel it in arrears. When getting a spanking, 'behind in progress'.
That's how I grew up, anyway. I will refrain from commenting whether this is the best method of raising a child, but it is the method by which I was raised.
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
When you are behindhand in getting home by curfew, your behind gets the hand. Specifically, when you're late, you're going to feel it in arrears. When getting a spanking, 'behind in progress'.
That's how I grew up, anyway. I will refrain from commenting whether this is the best method of raising a child, but it is the method by which I was raised.
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Friday, March 9, 2018
Addict
Please, I beg, just one more.
The other person, he does not look back.
Just one more time, I plead.
In his sincerity, he turns around.
"Look, mate, I think you've had enough."
His words are a hot knife through my chest.
If he will not give it to me freely,
I shall take it then by force.
I pull out a knife of my own, and allow him to feel my pain.
"What... have you... done?" He asks.
That aroma, I am all too familiar to it.
You gave me no choice! I screamed.
The words leaving my mouth are not even my own.
I sit behind my pallor complexion, a silent observer.
I never wanted this, but I have no control.
The addiction takes over, and I am forced to watch.
As the beautiful man slumps to the ground,
I bend down, and start to feed on my cure.
The rush of the color, and the warmth on my cold skin excite me.
Then, in a moment, I am once again myself.
I step out from behind the mask, and sigh.
"Another mess to clean up" I say quietly.
I lifted his ensanguinated body up, and carry it to its new home.
"Had I the power to resist my addiction" I tell myself.
Yet, I knew the price when I joined the damned.
I had needed the power, regardless of the price.
I stopped to look in the mirror. Reflecting on who I am.
There, the sight met me, as always.
A body, floating midair, suspended by a force unseen.
I close my eyes and walk on. I feel the words of the darkness.
Thank you for this meal, I say.
But in my heart there is no gratefulness.
There is only remorse, at the creature I have become.
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Eavesdropper
"It's the latest, the greatest magical item ever! Truly a marvel of magical engineering! Come get one now, as if your life depends on it! If you are a builder, a camper, a survivalist, a hiker, a hunter, or an assassin, you need this item!" Called a slick silver-haired elf, in the square. His bright voice, and supple complexion containing a paradoxically shifty expression.
"You say this item is so special, but you have only been waving it around. You want to show us how it can be used by ALL THESE PROFESSIONS, or are you just afraid anyone who sees that they don't work will call the guard and have you arrested?" A burly man called out, lifting his carpentry hammer in protest to the dealer.
"Oh, come, good sir! I promise, I am not selling you anything but the finest wares. My lotions, potions, baubles, bubbles, trinkets and tickets all work exactly as advertised. But why take me at my word? Unless you steal them, like the biblioburglar of Linlitana Library? Come, witness the power of my products, the sensation of the season, the one and only EAVESDROPPER!" He called, lifting the small crystal pipette into the air above his head.
The crowd, enticed by his advertising, gathered around, and 'oooh'ed prematurely. The elf lithely jumped up to the top of the fountain he had been advertising next to. He tipped the eavesdropper, so the open end of the pipette was facing the fountain, with the rubber bulb held firmly between his thumb and his index. He squeezed, ever so gently, until a single drop fell from the tip. As it touched the spout of water coming from the top of the fountain, the elf jumped away to land safely to its side.
No sooner than he had landed, a beautiful awning spread out over the fountain, with walls sprouting shortly afterward. The fountain was now fully enclosed. The crowd went wild, cheering at the display of magic.
"Ok, so you made a case for using your 'eavesdropper' on our fountain, but why do you say it's useful for a hunter or an assassin?" The man yelled, angry that already he was being made to look foolish.
"I knew you would ask, so I present two more demonstrations!" The elf said. "Imagine now that you are an assassin, and your target has gone outside to take his evening pipe under this very roof." He jumped onto the awning, and let a single drop fall once again, this time on the edge of the awning. No sooner than it hit the side, the eaves of the awning fell to the ground, severed from the rest of the structure. The crowd gasped in terror. One lady ran from the crowd screaming "we are all doomed!"
The elf held up his hand, showing in his demeanor that he requested silence until he had finished. He took out a few seeds from his pocket, and flung them into the square. Then, with a fluid motion, words coming forth from his mouth faster than his lips were moving, several phrases at the same time, he cast a blinding green spell. When the light faded, the seeds had formed a small grove of densely packed trees, with their branches crossing overhead.
"Now let us take a moment to consider if a deer was crossing underneath, as you have waited for it to do, a hunter preparing to capture his meal." The elf leapt into the branches, and dropped yet again, one drop of liquid from his pipette. With a violent thrash, the eaves of the trees collapsed perfectly into a cage, deeply embedded into the ground, with several sharp spikes facing inward. Had an animal been there, it would surely have perished, or been trapped and wounded.
With all their doubts flying from their minds, the elf directed the townspeople to make their purchases at his cart, where his lovely assistant happily took their money. With each transaction, she warned them.
"Remember, there are no refunds, and to avoid any accidents, we request you do not use the word of activation found on the inside of the bottom of the box in town."
The townspeople agreed, and eagerly headed to their homes. After a few minutes, they were sold out, and the elf and his beautiful assistant, in her scarlet robes, took their money and left town.
"Once again, your illusion magic is as powerful as ever, dear Eva." The silver-haired elf lauded.
"If not for your delivery, I am sure none would have believed it, Ilthinar." She responded. And as they reached the hill, on the very edge of the forest valley, they overheard a collective roar of anger from the town.
"Well, they got what they paid for." He chuckled, as they continued on their path to the next town. Of course, the next town was warned by the man who had overheard them from the nearby trees. After all, there was more than one kind of 'eavesdropper' in this world.
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
"You say this item is so special, but you have only been waving it around. You want to show us how it can be used by ALL THESE PROFESSIONS, or are you just afraid anyone who sees that they don't work will call the guard and have you arrested?" A burly man called out, lifting his carpentry hammer in protest to the dealer.
"Oh, come, good sir! I promise, I am not selling you anything but the finest wares. My lotions, potions, baubles, bubbles, trinkets and tickets all work exactly as advertised. But why take me at my word? Unless you steal them, like the biblioburglar of Linlitana Library? Come, witness the power of my products, the sensation of the season, the one and only EAVESDROPPER!" He called, lifting the small crystal pipette into the air above his head.
The crowd, enticed by his advertising, gathered around, and 'oooh'ed prematurely. The elf lithely jumped up to the top of the fountain he had been advertising next to. He tipped the eavesdropper, so the open end of the pipette was facing the fountain, with the rubber bulb held firmly between his thumb and his index. He squeezed, ever so gently, until a single drop fell from the tip. As it touched the spout of water coming from the top of the fountain, the elf jumped away to land safely to its side.
No sooner than he had landed, a beautiful awning spread out over the fountain, with walls sprouting shortly afterward. The fountain was now fully enclosed. The crowd went wild, cheering at the display of magic.
"Ok, so you made a case for using your 'eavesdropper' on our fountain, but why do you say it's useful for a hunter or an assassin?" The man yelled, angry that already he was being made to look foolish.
"I knew you would ask, so I present two more demonstrations!" The elf said. "Imagine now that you are an assassin, and your target has gone outside to take his evening pipe under this very roof." He jumped onto the awning, and let a single drop fall once again, this time on the edge of the awning. No sooner than it hit the side, the eaves of the awning fell to the ground, severed from the rest of the structure. The crowd gasped in terror. One lady ran from the crowd screaming "we are all doomed!"
The elf held up his hand, showing in his demeanor that he requested silence until he had finished. He took out a few seeds from his pocket, and flung them into the square. Then, with a fluid motion, words coming forth from his mouth faster than his lips were moving, several phrases at the same time, he cast a blinding green spell. When the light faded, the seeds had formed a small grove of densely packed trees, with their branches crossing overhead.
"Now let us take a moment to consider if a deer was crossing underneath, as you have waited for it to do, a hunter preparing to capture his meal." The elf leapt into the branches, and dropped yet again, one drop of liquid from his pipette. With a violent thrash, the eaves of the trees collapsed perfectly into a cage, deeply embedded into the ground, with several sharp spikes facing inward. Had an animal been there, it would surely have perished, or been trapped and wounded.
With all their doubts flying from their minds, the elf directed the townspeople to make their purchases at his cart, where his lovely assistant happily took their money. With each transaction, she warned them.
"Remember, there are no refunds, and to avoid any accidents, we request you do not use the word of activation found on the inside of the bottom of the box in town."
The townspeople agreed, and eagerly headed to their homes. After a few minutes, they were sold out, and the elf and his beautiful assistant, in her scarlet robes, took their money and left town.
"Once again, your illusion magic is as powerful as ever, dear Eva." The silver-haired elf lauded.
"If not for your delivery, I am sure none would have believed it, Ilthinar." She responded. And as they reached the hill, on the very edge of the forest valley, they overheard a collective roar of anger from the town.
"Well, they got what they paid for." He chuckled, as they continued on their path to the next town. Of course, the next town was warned by the man who had overheard them from the nearby trees. After all, there was more than one kind of 'eavesdropper' in this world.
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
Thursday, March 8, 2018
The Found Poem
The clouds laugh at me,
But I could not see,
The sky so bright, metaphorically.
Beautiful affliction, a joke in the play,
Synchronized seconds of comedy.
A grand plan ready, a moment before eight,
When surprised the car met us and drove to the gate.
Watching a romantic movie, and literally
Several hours a flight to within the city.
Too bright for her eyes, a gesture like mine,
The moment emerged and our life stayed in line.
I could not hear whatever it was,
So for a while, it was just us:
Mom, myself, and Augustus
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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
But I could not see,
The sky so bright, metaphorically.
Beautiful affliction, a joke in the play,
Synchronized seconds of comedy.
A grand plan ready, a moment before eight,
When surprised the car met us and drove to the gate.
Watching a romantic movie, and literally
Several hours a flight to within the city.
Too bright for her eyes, a gesture like mine,
The moment emerged and our life stayed in line.
I could not hear whatever it was,
So for a while, it was just us:
Mom, myself, and Augustus
-------------------------
This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?
If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.
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