Coming to you live from DeMoss Acres, it’s the Wednesday night blog!

I honestly don’t have a lot to say tonight. Being home is awesome.

Some thoughts on being home:

1-It’s a lot like what I imagine British Parliament to be: you drink tea while a bunch of morons run around, doing who knows what.

2- Pancakes are better hot off the griddle, even if that means getting up at 7 am.

3- Sitting in the living room without the t.v. on is usually as funny as sitting the the room with the t.v. on.

4- Cold pizza=breakfast of champions.

*unless a sibling picks the pepperoni slices off

5- Contrary to popular opinion, family game night does not always have to devolve into fights. Fun fact.

Listen to this.

I have a love-hate relationship with this song. There have been some times when it’s really meant something to me, and other times when it just brings up a lot of bad memories. God is a God of order, and a lot of times, that order is a good thing. But at the end of the day, so few of us have a big capacity for hope anymore. We forget that good things can spring up on us as quickly as the bad, and that if we actually put some effort in, things turn out pretty all right.

“[Gatsby had] an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.”  – The Great Gatsby

Fiction from a prompt Part 2

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/trio-4/

Write something (anything) involving a speeding car, a phone call, and a bright, crisp morning.

To continue…

She sat there in the dark, listening to the siren. The flashing blue and red lights of the cop car blinded her for a second and she froze, hoping that the metamaterial invisibility programming that Michael had installed on her car would not give out. She glanced down at the dashboard: the power bar was dangerously low. Slowly, the headlights of the cop car wound around the end of her row of storage buildings, then rolled past. Andrea breathed a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, she carefully rolled back out onto the road, flipping the red switch back off. Out from under the shadow of the storage buildings, the light hurt her eyes. But, pushing the pedal down as far as she dared, she sped along the road.

“Where have you been?” Michael jogged alongside the car as she pulled it into the garage. “You should have been here ten minutes ago.” He glared down at her. “Did you stop?”

Andrea turned the car off and jumped out through the window. “I might have almost gotten pulled over.”

“That explains the power surge on the display.” He shut the door behind them and pushed her along. “Invisibility program work okay?”

“Yeah. It sucks up a lot of juice.” She handed Michael the metal piece. “I’ll warm the machine up.”

Michael studied the metal rod, holding it against a computer screen. “Right specs. Let’s duplicate it.” He ran the rod under a scanner. A deep thrumming slowly grew in the background. “Got it, Andrea?”

“Yep.” She stuck her head around the door. “It’s at about 80 percent.”

“Good.” Michael picked up the metal rod and handed it to her. “You keep this one.” He reached down under the computer and pulled out another metal rod, the exact duplicate of the one he’d just given Andrea. “Next time, follow the speed limit. You know that cop will be waiting there. It’s not worth it. Ten minutes can mean the world.”

Andrea followed him to the chamber in the next room and checked a panel. “It’s ready. Good luck.”

“Set it for 24 hours ago.” Michael wound a scarf around his face. “See you soon.”

Andrea closed the door. “Yeah. I’ll actually look for you this time.”

-FIN-

#noedits

Fiction from a prompt Part 1

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/trio-4/

Write something (anything) involving a speeding car, a phone call, and a bright, crisp morning.

All right, blogosphere. I see you.

Andrea tapped her fingers nervously against the textured metal of her seat. She stared out the window, watching a 747 take off into the piercingly blue sky. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“S’cue me, miss?” A little girl tapped her knee. “That man told me to give you this.” She handed Andrea a slim piece of metal, about 4 inches long,with knobs on both ends. “He said its for you.”

“Where is he, honey?” Andrea stood up.

“Over there. He’s got a funny scarf… Oh he’s gone. Can I have a candy?”

“Sure, honey.” Andrea pulled a sucker out of her purse. “Thank you, dear.” She hurried out of the airport and into her car.”Michael, I got it.” She pulled the metal rod out of her pocket. “What is it?”

“Just get here. Don’t stop.” He hung up.

Andrea sighed and squealed out of the parking lot.The blue sky and orange leaves flicked by as the car’s motor purred along. The radio hummed out mellow country songs and Andrea sang along. The sharp whine of a cop siren behind her jolted her out of the autumn calm. She eased off the gas pedal, but Michael’s warning rang in her head. “Don’t stop.” Changing her mind, Andrea stomped on the gas pedal and the car coughed.

“Come on, baby. Come on.” Andrea leaned into the steering wheel, her right hand hovering over a red switch. She looked into her mirror. The grey muscle car seemed to be gaining. “All right.” Stomping on the brake she whipped into a right hand turn, and then another. She threw the car into park on the backside of a row of storage buildings, and hit the red switch. “Sorry, Michael.”

She sat there in the dark, listening to the siren. The flashing blue and red lights of the cop car blinded her for a second and she froze, hoping….

To be continued next week…

Yay serials!

Author in search of a title

Is this real life, or is it just fanta-sea?

We’ve moved on to our fiction segment in my creative writing class. This was our first project, a flash-fiction story (around 750 words.) The requirement for our project was that we would, in small groups, come up with three laws which our worlds would live by, and then include those somehow in the story. Mine doesn’t have a title… Still working on it.

Tanner was 11 when his sister Naomi turned 13. His parents, Emile and Yan, spent hours in their room, the week before. Naomi wandered around the house, touching the chairs, the table, the dishes on their shelves. When they all sat around the table at dinner, everyone would  pretend that things were normal, but Tanner knew that Emile was struggling to hold back tears. She never cried, no matter how close she got. Naomi’s birthday, a Friday, was as bright as any autumn day. Quietly the family gathered in the kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Naomi.” Yan awkwardly put his arm around his daughter.”This is an important year.”

Naomi nodded, pale faced.

“We love you, Naomi.” Plates of steaming food in hand, Emile bent over to kiss her on the head.

“Just tell us.” Naomi pushed her plate away. “I won’t be able to eat anything.”

Yan folded his arms and sat down. Emile stood behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. He glanced up at her and she nodded, barely. “We love you both very much. You know that.”

Naomi whimpered.

Their father spread his hands.  “Tanner, we… we’ll miss you. I’m sorry.” His face set. “I’m sorry, son. Emile will prepare a bag for you.”

Naomi burst into tears and ran from the room. Tanner stared at his father.

A few hours later, Tanner stood outside the door of their home. The trees of the surrounding forest towered over him. His family gathered around the doorway, stone-faced. His mother stepped forward. “Here, Tanner. This is yours.” Her face crumbled.

Tanner’s father stiffened. “Please, Emile.” He nudged his wife back into the house, out of site. “Goodbye, son.” They shook hands.

Naomi threw her arms around her brother. “I’m sorry. Please be careful. Good… good luck.”

Tanner looked around at his family. “See you.”

“Tanner, wait.” His mother reached out past her husband towards her son.

“No, Emile. Go in the house. He doesn’t need your tears. Tanner…”

“Goodbye.” Tanner slung the bag over his shoulder, walking into the forest. The trees that grew in the woods around their house (his old house) were leafless most of the way up the trunk,  but covered in the leaves at the top. Tanner thought about trying to climb up one and rest at night.  He noticed the leaves fluttering down like a yellow rain. He shifted his bag to the other shoulder and picked up a stick.

As he walked, he cut out a path for himself with his stick. “Going somewhere. Going… somewhere.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Lately it ached and burned. Yan had told him it was part of his body changing. “The village. Two hours walk? Maybe I can stay the night there.” He stopped. “Where am I going?”

He walked further, staring at the sky. As he drew closer to the village, houses began to wink their lights on. Finally, he overcame his pride and went up to one of the houses.

“Hello!” The door creaked open. “Hello, ma’am. I was wondering if maybe you have a place for me to stay tonight?”

The grey-haired woman eyed him.

“It’s my sister’s thirteenth birthday.”

She opened the door. “Come in, son.”

“Thank you. My name’s Tanner.” He pressed against the back of his neck.  “I have food. I just need a place to sleep for the night.”

“Where are you going, young man?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have a plan.”

The woman steered him towards a seat at the table. “Have you received your gift?”

“No. No one in my family has a gift. I don’t think I will.”

The woman set a plate down in front of Tanner. “Nothing is certain. Now, eat. You may sleep in front of the fire tonight.” She sighed. “I lost my son when he turned thirteen.”

Tanner nodded.

“My husband died ten years ago and now I have no one. I make do.” She opened the door. “Come and we will get firewood.”

The next day, after wishing the old lady well, Tanner headed into the village, with no clearer idea of where he was going.  Stick in hand, he wandered down the streets, looking in windows and store fronts.

“Hey, boy.” A tall, blowsy girl jerked her hand at him. Her red hair swirled around her head. “What are you doing here? You gonna break something?” She looked at his stick, interested.

“No, sorry.” Tanner stared up at the girl. “I’m just… passing through.”

“Sure. I’ve seen you. I been following you. You’re wandering this town. Looking for trouble. I like trouble.” She grinned down at him, teeth shockingly white.

“Well…” Tanner thought a moment. “Yeah, I guess I was looking for trouble.” He stuck his chest out. “But not here. Somewhere else.” He rolled his eyes. “This place is small beans.”

“Where were you gonna go?” Her ragged eyebrows shot up.

“Out of the village.” Tanner switched his bag again and pressed his cool hand to the back of his neck. “Wanna come?”

“Whats your name?”

Tanner propped his hands on his hips and stared up at the girl. “Tor. You gonna come?”

“Yeah, Tor. I’ll come.”

-FIN-