Tag: come back

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Church of the Mech

http://gorillaartfare.com/2009/10/sci-fi-dumpage/ (fourth down)

Martin found the encompassing feeling of the abandoned mech hanger remarkable. The lofty girders above and the open bay doors along the perimeter reminded him of a church he attended as a boy before he stopped praying.

“Thanks.” The occasional single-syllable acknowledgement was all that remained of Martin’s belief.

:Roger that, Commander.: Lieutenant Abilene Guerrera’s voice spoke in Martin’s earpiece. She drove the mech guarding above him. He smiled and pretended it was Goddess responding instead. He then tried to think of what he’d say to the Lieutenant’s inevitable query. :…uh, ‘Thanks’ for what, sir?:

:[something profound and direct]:

:Of course, sir,: Guerrera replied after a delay. Her brief protocol made Martin smile and almost laugh. He imagined her turning wide-eyed and questioning to her ensign co-pilot and him, cringing, unable to offer an explanation for their boss’s sudden melancholy. They’d chew on that shit for days, he thought.

xxx words on day 788

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Begging the Leaves

I’ve just finished watching every episode of Firefly and then the movie Serenity. I should write better now.

Each time I sit down I struggle to start with an image that isn’t Charming sitting on her roof drinking tea and watching the sun set. I don’t write it because…

OMG! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Miriam gathered the brittle maple leaves around her and begged each to arrange itself with the others into a niche at the back of her tent. Many of the leaves were too far gone or too curious to join the others, so once that half dome resolved itself to her liking she brushed a clear space on the decking and produced a beeswax candle from her possibles. She did not want them burnt by the flame or caught up in the melt.

Reaching into her possibles again, Miriam withdrew two pine dowels that might have made good knitting needles were they a gauge narrower. She crossed them directly above the wick then zipped them apart. The friction sparked the candle to life. She paired the dowels and tucked them away again. The warm honied wax smell mingled with the musk of the fallen leaves.

That’s all I could get for now.

207 words on day 761

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His Intended Purpose

http://ffffound.com/image/48e044690c6806c9e8c5f5705c6ac67eff9c9a13

Even after 45 years, Boot Camp reminded him to hold the pistol in a safe down and away position while he moved north along the alleyway on a Wednesday afternoon. Reggie wondered if it was ironic that training had not reminded him to not gun down his ex-wife’s new boyfriend. He could not recall any ethics lessons during that 13 week period of his life.

Reggie also wondered at the pristine awareness he held for everything he encountered but the lack of distraction. He could simultaneously recognize that Ronnie Edward’s kid’s near abandoned Pinto had a flat driver’s rear tire from the angle it rested in the tall weeds while surmising the fence between him and Tally Randermiester—who was hanging her wash (a mixture of pastel baby clothes and jeans)—was just high enough she would not see his weapon. Two more steps and he would be at the proper angle to both politely say hello and to catch the sun brightening through her thin cotton skirt.

A scene played quickly through Reggie’s thoughts where an unseen reporter interviewed Tally about today’s events. Tally wipes her eyes and says, “‘Hello?’ He just said, ‘Hello’ like nothing was about to happen. Like…” There they seem to edit the next thing she says, but she just stops. She is unable to finish her sentence. Unable to say, “Like he wasn’t a cold blooded killer.”

To save her that grief he decides not to greet her. Not to see her slim 20 some year old legs silhouetted through a flower-printed broomstick skirt. Not to be interrupted. Not to lose sight of his intended purpose.

270 words on day 751