I sit, sipping warmth
As the morning sun falls across the stairs
You are arriving soon, but not yet here
I wait to see you
To meet you
This house, made to be a home,
Full, but empty without you
Our final piece
The familial puzzle nearly complete
The picture on the box finally visible
I gulp the remaining life from my mug
I watch the shadows play across the room
The marching band, in the distance,
Heralding your arrival
Unwitting messengers of fate
I listen for your knock at the door
The telltale struggle to enter
Still I wait
With Destiny nearing its end and Destiny 2 ramping up for release, I feel like it’s finally time to share this microstory I wrote about my favorite ship in D1.
WARNING: VULGARITY AHEAD (not profanity, I mean actual vulgar language; you’ve been warned)
“Dude, I found two holes in the wall of your cockpit. What’s that all about?”
‘Oh, that. One of those is my glory hole. The other is my gloriole.’
“What the fucking what?”
‘Yeah. You put your dick in one and the ship’s AI gives you a blowie. It’s awesome.’
“And the other?”
‘Exposes it to pure Traveler’s Light.’
“Which is better?”
‘The glory hole. But if you put your dick in the gloriole, it glows in the dark for a week. And if you fuck a Vex with it, they explode.’
from heaven above, beneath, and among,
these dark waters filled this world
if some dæmon in love bewrayeth more woe,
what shall betiden of necessity make?
till thou com’st home, thy sweet voice afar confounds me.
— Written with assistance from the Creative Writer keyboard app for iOS.
I’m quite enjoying this app. A friend of mine sent me one of her poems last week, and it was very beautiful—far more beautiful than my own, in afraid. I’ll have to ask her permission to share it.
Anyway, I performed edits to this one after it was finished, as some of the word choices I was given this time were the wrong tense or worked well if there was another word placed before it that had not been offered. The coolest thing, though, is how well it gets the mind turning. I could very easily see poems born entirely of this app by someone that knows not what they wish to write, but that discovers it upon looking at the words they have writ.
i will never forget july,
and all the little emptiness it creates
for her love was mine
and all the world was bright
The above poem was written using Creative Writer, an iPhone app that replaces the keyboard with a list of words that are suggested based on context (kind of like iOS’s QuickType feature on steroids). Be sure and check it out.
Well, now. I suppose it was only a matter of time.
No one can run forever.
I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, waiting for the telltale click of the hammer-release, microseconds before darkness. But it didn’t come. I began to sweat.
No one should be forced to know their demise is imminent and then be made to wait. It is an unbearable torment to know your time on this plane has come to an end, yet listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall delaying the inevitable. This cancer in my mind gnawed at my sanity as the seconds slipped past.
I continued to exhale the remaining air from my lungs. Soon, I would need to take another breath. What a cruel fate to know that I might be interrupted by an ounce of hot lead caroming around inside my skull, tearing chunks of nervous tissue and compressing them into a useless pool of viscera.
I sucked in air. My calm was officially gone. I suppressed a scream of outrage at my treatment. To know that death had come to escort me hence and to stand, impatiently staring at my wristwatch while he chats up the receptionist was infuriating. Doesn’t he know that I have places to be? This isn’t his lunch break. He doesn’t get to decide my time has come and then push the appointment back by an hour!
I forcibly expelled all the air from my lungs again, this time refusing to draw another breath. If the gunman won’t pull the trigger, I’ll pass out from temporary asphyxiation. Then, at least, I won’t have to wait any longer for the finale. I can sleep right through it.
FUCK THIS, I’M THROUGH WAITI–
Fat, wet snowflakes
Blanket the wintry landscape
Trapping sound and eating echoes
Deep within our linen fortress
We stand against the cold
Cupping dark roast blend within our fingers
Listening to the silence
Finding tranquil peace
The mountain air setting us free
“It’s a dangerous world, son. One that should not be traversed lightly. When the sun goes down, you best be home. Safe inside with doors locked. There are few places left of peace. Bright pinpoints of light in the darkness. Best to be in one when the darkness comes calling. But even those places are fewer and farther between than they once were. The world is changing. Growing cruel and dark. You must be strong. But not yet. Not yet. For now, you must be safe.
Don’t worry, son. The darkness won’t come here. There’s a tale, you see. An old tale. There’s a reason that bright places like Homewood still exist. A very special reason. For centuries, they’ve watched over us. The grey sentinels. Watched over us and kept the darkness at bay. You remember that. When all hope seems lost and the gruekin come scratching at your door, the grey sentinel will save us. The Shepherd protects his flock.”
I took the time to write up a few more #WednesdayChallenge entries this week. The theme was “Childhood”, which I sort of experimented with quite a lot for my first post. The second was more traditional, however.
UPDATE (2013/10/21): I wrote another one today, so I decided to toss it up here, too.
If you missed last week’s #WednesdayChallenge post that explains what it is, you can check it out here.
“Sir… I don’t know if this is the best time for–”
Captain Dirk Darkstar of the Darkstar Spacestar Search & Research Society smacked his first officer across the mouth. The first officer went silent.
“I don’t know what star system you were born in, boy, but I come from the Darkstar System. The darkest system of stars in the known universe.” Captain Darkstar chewed on his holo-cigar and blew holographic smoke across the deck. “I’m not afraid of anything in space. Which means, it’s always time for—”
The USS Darkstar rumbled and shook violently, like a children’s toy caught in a tug of war between God and a child intent on defying his maker. The first officer tumbled and sprawled out on the floor, but Dirk Darkstar, the youngest commander to have command of his own starship in the DSSRS fleet didn’t even flinch.
“Get up, Number One. We’ve got a space kraken to explode.”
Captain Dirk Darkstar flicked his holo-cigar into the holo-trash-receptacle, which flickered into nothingness as the system lost power. The telltale sound of air escaping into the void of deep space was all Captain Dirk Darkstar needed to motivate him to try his riskiest of maneuvers yet. He flipped up the emergency guard on the emergency superlaser detonato-ray activation button and jammed it down, hard.
“Space is no place for a cephalopod.” Captain Darkstar mentally checked off Use word-a-day calendar in tense situation from his daily to-do list as the bridge of the USS Darkstar went white.
So, I meant to post this yesterday, but LIFE. Instead, you get them now. There’s this pretty cool thing going on over at App.net called the #WednesdayChallenge that encourages users to write a short piece of fiction that fits the weekly theme in 256 characters (technically, less, as the hashtag #WedC needs to be included in the post). I discovered it yesterday and thought it sounded like fun, so I made two entries.
This sort of reminded me of a subreddit I found a month or so ago called /r/shortscarystories. I took the opportunity then to post this piece there (which directly inspired the first of my two entries above). I hope to continue participating in the #WednesdayChallenge going forward, as it’s an excellent writing exercise and I really need to be writing more. This is the perfect way to force me to do some craft-honing.
If you want to read more about the #WednesdayChallenge, click the hashtag links above or check out the new site the creator threw together to showcase the works.