My Final Project for the Beginning Writers' Workshop at KCC

VOYAGE WITH THE VISITOR: THE NULL WORLD

“What is this place?” I asked my extraterrestrial Visitor.

The two of us gazed down on the expanse below. Through a combination of electrochemical and pheromone signals emanating from the Visitor, I was able to understand when it spoke to my mind: Look. The planet above which we hovered was swarming with shuffling creatures.

We call this the Null World, the Visitor said.

The beings upon it looked so familiar, although I didn’t know why. They were of various shapes and sizes - tall, short, spindly, round - yet based upon the same blank template. They ambled past each other heedlessly, either not knowing or caring that others were nearby. I noticed two things right away: they were hooked to at least one portable object, and parts of their faces were oddly misshapen.

Their noses are the first to atrophy, said the Visitor, followed by their ears. Their tongues, which were once so useful for the formation of words, now only help them to swallow. Their devices keep them alive.

“Devices?” I asked, feeling queasy. I didn’t want to know what they were, but some part of me already did.

“Maybe try and communicate with one of them,” I said. “Telepathically, like you’re doing with me.”

The Visitor widened its two black, gleaming eyes, until they morphed into one that spanned the bridge of its tubelike nose. I saw it focus upon one of the figures below, and the image grew ever clearer. The creature himself - a bald-headed male - was intensely focused upon the flat screen that he carried. Two seconds passed, then five, then ten. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tingle as my galactic guide attempted to reach the creature’s mind. Apparently, this telepathy did not only affect its potential recipient.

Nevertheless, the male did not react. He simply moved on, leaning in closer to his beloved tech-wear.

The Visitor drooped its head: I said “Hello”. After hesitating, it let its one eye separate into two again.

We looked at the creatures again. Despite all of their aimless shuffling, their fingers fluttered with manic purpose. They mashed and swiped their thumbs against screens that only they could see, and bobbed their heads to musical vibrations they could only sense - not hear. I shut my eyes tightly against the scene.

“What’s wrong with them?” I asked. “Why don’t they notice each other, or even themselves? Huh?”

They fear death, and seek to escape it by uploading as much information as they can through their technology. Unfortunately, what they’re actually doing is downloading themselves onto these devices. They want to live forever, and in pursuing such a goal, they die. 

This paradox was too much to bear. I kept my eyes shut, shaking my head over and over. It couldn’t be.

It is, my companion replied, and that’s why I’ve come for you.  

The Visitor soothed my mind, and the Null World - Earth - disappeared.

Writing Challenge: "Laughs at the Library"

This is the second writing challenge posed to me by Chris and Jerri Schlenker from my "Beginning Writer's Workshop" course:

LAUGHS AT THE LIBRARY

There are several reasons why our local library is one of my favorite places. For starters, the dusty scent of old tomes combined with that of fresh paperbacks sends me reeling back to my childhood. So do the helpful librarians, several of whom I’ve known since then. Of late, however, my newest reason to love the library is Junior High Game Day. I know what some of you are thinking: “Junior high kids are actually fun?” 

Yes, indeed. One day per month, our librarians invite local children from sixth to eighth grade over to play board games. There are several, including chess, Apples to Apples (a perennial favorite), Monopoly (with electronic banking so you don’t have to perform the arduous task of making change), Twister (which I never play for fear of breaking one or more of my appendages), and Trivial Pursuit (very rarely utilized). 

This last is because the questions are way too hard for post-Millennials: “Who was the first U.S. President to ride in a car?” One kid’s answer: “George Bush!” I pointed out that automobiles were invented in the late 1800’s, not the early 2000’s, so he bravely gave it another try: “Abraham Lincoln!” The actual answer is William McKinley. I confess that the only other thing I know about him is that he was assassinated by a Polish man named Leon Czolgosz. If I have my Slavic pronunciation right, that’s “tsol-GOSH.” The only reason I recall that is because of his last name. I’ve tried to master Russian and failed, so there you go. 

Anyway, that’s why we don’t play Trivial Pursuit. Another big hit at Junior High Game Day, at least when I remember to bring it, is Crappy Birthday. I have no idea if that’s because the gifts depicted on the game cards are so funny, or because the kids are legally allowed to say “crappy” at the library. Perhaps both. Each kid takes turns being the “birthday boy” or “birthday girl”, who is a judge of sorts. All the other kids have five “gift cards” in their hand, depicting horrible presents such as forty gallons of nacho cheese, a decorative urinal, a peeing statue, and so on. The player with the “birthday” has to pick the present they would hate to receive the most. The kid who had that card in his or her hand gets a point. Five points wins. 

“What’s a ‘bid-it’?” asked one boy (not the same one who guessed “George Bush” for the Trivial Pursuit question). He held up a card showing what looked like a large toilet. Blushing a little, I explained that the word was pronounced bidet, and it was “a special toilet that washes you after you go to the bathroom.” Immediately, another boy cried, “I want it! I want it!” Everybody else cracked up, including me. “Who wouldn’t want that? That’s a great present!” he added. More guffaws. Yes, this is a true story as well. 


Such laughs at the library!

Writing Challenge: "A Great Day"

This challenge was posed to me by Ann Goza, from my "Beginning Writers' Workshop" student group on Facebook. I am to write 500 words or less on the subject, "You know it's going to be a great day when..."

A GREAT DAY

You know it’s going to be a great day when you get to sleep in. Not only is it your day off from work, but if you have kids, they’re on a field trip for school - and you DON’T have to chaperone. So, at 6:00 AM, you snuggle back under the covers and enjoy at least three more hours of rest. Your pet joins you as a comfy bio-pillow.

When you finally do get up, you discover that your significant other has finally broken out the cappuccino machine that you gave him/her last Christmas. Over a steaming cup with extra foam, you engage in friendly discourse whilst still in your pajamas. With a sultry wink, you’re asked the question: “Should I take a shower before…or after?” You respond in kind, according to your preference, surprised that such a high pronunciation of the word “Yee!” can emerge from your throat post-children. You, my friend, are on a roll.

Thus satisfied on both the gastrointestinal and libidinal fronts, you “start” your day after discovering that it’s actually 11:00 AM. Out of a simultaneous sense of habit and duty, you glance toward your treadmill in the bedroom. No, you think, casting a baleful glare at the contraption. I don’t have to do that today. Instead of putting in your required thirty minutes of hard labor outside of the office, you open a book. You haven’t had any time to read it lately. Your favorite mystery/romance/horror extravaganza has been almost permanently replaced by The Poky Little Puppy and, disconcertingly, Walter the Farting Dog. 

Thankfully, the kids aren't here, but do you know who is? Your favorite talk show host during lunch. Your significant other is out doing something or other. Therefore, you revel with perverse glee in the eternally-shocking paternity revelations of Maury Povich, If you’re a more health-conscious sort, you watch that one  episode of Dr. Oz that you’ve had on DVR for two months. Duly admonished, you wash the dishes and promise that you’ll get back to the treadmill and vegetables tomorrow. Today you had to have grilled cheese.

When your significant other returns, s/he poses you a challenge: Another round of you-know-what, or a round of competitive golf on Xbox Kinect? You pick the golf first, with the other activity as a little forfeit. The loser has to submit to the winner’s best impression of Christian Grey from 50 Shades. You’re game. Against all odds, you also emerge victorious! Then again, you dimly suspect that your SO was “showing off” some brilliant “parking lot shots”. However, who cares? To you go the spoils of both love and war.

You eat an early dinner at your favorite Italian place with actual wine, because the kids aren’t around. You even share a portion of tiramisu for a “pick-me-up” that you know you’ll need tomorrow. Oh, well. To finish off your great day, when you tuck your little ones into bed, they decide to give you five hugs apiece.

Short Story: "Called to Account"

This is a writing challenge posed to me by Chris and Jerri Schlenker from my "Beginning Writer's Workshop" course:

CALLED TO ACCOUNT

A 500-Word Short Story by Rainey Wetnight, a.k.a MsFicwriter

“Mister Edmonds? Would you step into my study for a moment?” 

“Certainly, your lordship.” This isn‘t good. If Lord Marsdale wants something, he summons me to the parlor or dining room. I’m being called to the carpet, but what ghastly infraction have I committed? 

Once he’s seated behind his mahogany desk, he places his fingertips together in a pyramid shape. “It seems that two thousand pounds has gone missing from my bank account.”

“Sir?” Calm down. Keep your tone neutral. 

“I find it rather odd, Edmonds, that just one week ago you were requesting some time off.” 

“I - That is true, but I don’t take extravagant holidays. A fortnight in the country is enough for me.”  

He ignores this. “The only three people on these premises with access to my finances are my wife, my valet Coe, and you - for household expenses. Have you been making withdrawals without my knowledge?”

My spine stiffens. “I would never do so, sir, especially for such a large sum. Have you questioned Coe?” 

Lord Marsdale raises an eyebrow. “I shall, but I thought I’d start with you. What are you not telling me?” 

Square your shoulders. Head high. Stand up straighter. “I have been perfectly aboveboard with you.” 

“Yes, you have, and I applaud you for that. Such is why I’m surprised at your reticence now.” 

“Reticence? My lord, I have done absolutely nothing. Theft is far below me, and these accusations, with all due respect, are far below you.” Good. Keep questioning his honor, and putting him on the defensive.  

“Sit down.” 

He’s kept me standing this whole time. Foolish move. I could have bolted, but didn’t. Why? With cautious grace, I take the one seat across the desk from him. I want him to speak next, and to keep on speaking.  

“Have you been having any financial difficulties lately, Edmonds?” 

“Related to my duties, sir? Of course not. I make a point of budgeting wisely, for this estate and myself.” 

My employer leans forward half an inch. “What about the evening gala for Lord Steyne and his wife?” 

I cringe. “It was their anniversary, and so I purchased food and wines according to their particular taste.” 

“Aye. In this case, ‘their particular taste’ happened to dig us five hundred pounds into the hole…” 

The edge in his voice is growing sharper. I’ve got to nip this in the bud. “What can I say?” I shrug. 

“The Steynes were quite pleased, but I was not. I gave you a reprimand, which you seem to have ignored.” 

“No, sir! I’ve striven to be frugal in our dinners, especially in the servants’ kitchen - less meat, more meal.” 

“Bravo.” He lets his hands slip down onto the desk, and then curls them into fists. “Now I want the truth.” 

I give him a slow, oily smile. “Why don’t you ask your wife? Your beloved Mabel, who is now my beloved?”