Day 31 - Month of May summed up today

Today’s Prompt

About a Writer

I think I’ll do a list

of

31 days in May

Day 30 - Black Stigmata

It felt great, the smoothness, the shine; it was hard to decide what was most bewildering was it the weight or the blackness. 

For something the size and shape of a large goose egg, it felt feather lite, yet felt more substantial than anything around her. The shade of it was absorbing, unlike other blacks, some that reflect light this one did not; as shiny as it was, looking at it in the palm of her hand was like looking into bloodless, black stigmata.  It was mystical, it was so out of place. 

Here in the high country, the landscape was harsh and lush. Severe in that the eucalypts and scrub that had to grow in the rocky terrain. Scrub that constantly scratches you as you push through. Luxurious in that when you hit the open plains, the trees and shrubs give away to open expanses of native grass. 

Not anywhere in the three days of travelling had she seen or felt anything like this.  The Australian bush, like the insects and reptiles, was hard, rough and prickly. Always grabbing at your clothes, scratching and tearing your skin, the ground undulating trying to trip you, be it light sinewy sticks or hard rough granite trying to trip you to tear at your legs as you fall.

It was everything she could do to tear her eyes away from it, realising that the day was getting on she dropped it into her scroggin bag hanging from the waistband of her backpack. She knew she had another hour to walk to get to camp, best keep going, she could always look later.

Day 29 - Attention (read it out loud)

Attention, that’s what it is all about

every moment of the day it gets pulled about

each and every way distraction an illusive satisfaction

drawn astray we are never dismayed 

at how the news of today fades away

different every morning causing us to stray

never focus on the terror of the previous day

It’s as if we are in a self-induced coma

paralysed by overstimulation

stimulation that’s like defibrillation

rattling your brain and making you insane

What’s really odd though for some of us

as much as our attention wanes

we spend our days developing ways

To steal others attention away.

ways to nudge and coerce

to compete and disperse

to distract in every way

for attention is something to be commoditised 

to be stolen away every single day

Whole industries are geared to it, to draw us in

to nudge and ping to try to satiate everything

yet our attention is so stretched 

there is only stress our brains are buzzing

constantly scrubbing memories 

of events from day to day.

this loss of focus and attention demand

is resulting in the demise of the modern man

our attention is taken by these little devices

Devices that promise something more

yet make us so poor

they paint pictures of everything, 

utopia’s, dystopia’s and more

how strange it is to watch zombies eat brains

if we could see ourselves from the outside in

we’d see that attention aside

we are the zombies on the inside

Day 28 - Back to school, continued

One Day left and I am three stories down.  Today's is a continuation of Day 12 

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The next day Jelex was up bright and early, she wanted to give Mr Bumchin one more go.  See if she could lure him out with his favourite honey on toast and then negotiate with him to come to school and meet with the other Bumchin's.

After eating her breakfast, making her lunch and waiting for her dad to be distracted by work emails, Jelex asked 'Dad, can I go on my iPad'.

Day 27 - Beggar

He had seen her before; flitting among the people sitting eating their lunch in the food court. She would walk up to a table of diners, place a card on it, then walk away to another table and do the same. Then another, and another, then she’d return to the first table in the hope they would give her money.

He was always curious as to what was written on the note. She never spoke, if someone gave money, she would thank them palms together as if praying and give the generous person a small nod, monk-like.

Day 26 - Pop-up privacy

The unregistered laid out her wares on a six by six blue canvas. There were rubber masks, trench coats with and without shoulder pads, shoes with 4-inch heels, wigs, glasses; a veritable array of items used to disguise or distort.

Of most interest on the canvas were the new headbands. These circles that an individual wears above their eyebrows projects a digital distortion feed, preventing the facial recognition technology to identify and track a person's movement.

Day 25 - Eunuch

'Wait a moment please' Rebecca pressed the earpiece into her ear.

'Sorry, can you repeat that?'

'Apologies everyone, I am being told we have some breaking news.'

The screen to Rebecca's left lit up with a picture of the President superimposed on an executive order.

Day 24 - Soapbox aspirations

'Nice Hotdog, Mick?' Said John muffling through the last of his hotdog.

'That's nothing compared to what I am about to show you.'

'No seriously, best hotdog ever. I say that every time I come here.'

'Ok, let's get going.' Mick had a level of concern for what he was about to do. He figured it would be entertaining, he was simply unsure if John was in the right frame of mind.

Day 23 - Flesh

A memory was triggered today.

The three men walked out from behind the Ambulance. The first dressed in his Ambo's uniform; the other two casually dressed carrying a large tray. It was the tray that caught my attention.

A box really. It was a metre square, and maybe 4 inches deep, clear cellophane covering the contents. The contents, flesh coloured body parts separated by green leaves.

The leaves as my memory would have it looked floral, sort of like you'd see on a burial casket.  I knew these things because I was an altar boy.

Day 22 - Couch Fury

Story a day challenge 'One Sided Dialogue'

Last year’s version - http://afstoryaday.blogspot.com/2018/05/day-17-couch-potato.html This year built on it a bit.

===

‘WHAT!!!’

 ‘AAAAH!’  

‘This is bullshit, who wrote this crap!’

‘Brrrr, Brrrr; Brrrr, Brrrr - You have reached the voicemail of Dinga Bell.’

‘Dinga, bloody answering machine, how can I get your bloody answering machine. Did you watch the GoT, no that’s right you’re out on a date.  A date that took more priority over the GoT. Well anyway either delete the message now else you’ll get spoiler.  Right the Spoiler! Cersei got killed by a rock. A ROCK!!  That’s bloody insane, why the hell have I over invested in this show? Eight years. EIGHT YEARS! Seriously mate, it’s crap, these writers have lost the plot. See you tomorrow.’

Clunk

‘AAAAAAH!’

Crack!

‘Oh bloody hell!’

+++

Day 21 - Stickman Sam - Epistolary Story

'Ssssssss' then silence, and he existed.  Stickman Sam would be his name, and here he was, standing at the bottom left of a clean white lined page inside one of Jelex's first schoolbooks of the year.

Sam had been with Jelex since grade 1, they had been on many adventures together. Especially at the start of the year. When the books were new. New books meant opportunity. Where would Jelex's mind take him today?

Day 20 - 2020

Today's writing prompt from storyaday.org was 'Write The Same Incident From Three Different Perspectives'

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Sophia was stumped, after an announcement tone, like that of a hospital, airport and or train station interrupted the latest Taylor Swift song 'Democracy is dying' her screen switched to blue with a 'Warning!' from the government.

Day 19 - Election Day

On this surprising election day
We find the liberals have been given the right of way
The left is now bereft and left in dismay
All the polls did say, the left would get their way
Maybe, just maybe there is some good to come from this day.
The rightmost of the liberals losing their way
To and independent woman that will better lead the way
Fingers crossed my wife says
Hopefully, the political class will find their way
With the leadership of labor not in favour
Maybe, just maybe they’ll let a woman lead the way
Imagine that if you may
A government that governs instead of always being in a fray
One that might just lead the nation the correct way

NOTE - today's prompt was to write a sonnet or prose of 14 lines only.

Day 18 - Addition to the party

The cavern was massive, stalagmites and stalactites were well formed, looking like pillars randomly spread throughout, creating the illusion that they were holding up the ceiling.

The treasure was spread all over the floor, forming golden stalagmites, much more stunted and broad than their natural counterparts.  It was odd to be sitting in such a space, and not madly bagging the treasure.

Jelex knew better though, Bobmadik had been very clear that the treasure had a valid owner; an owner that he did not want to upset. From what she could work out, it had been about three days that they had been waiting. Bobmadik was adamant that the owner would turn-up soon.

Day 17 - What did you tell the world today

What I did.	Who I told (deliberately or not)
Alarm went off - of course my iPhone is my alarm.	Phone went active, told Telstra & Apple
Fanatic story a dayer - logged onto afstoryaday.blogspot.com to see hits to site & comments at storyaday.org	Google, Story a Day site, apple

Day 16 - Dwarvelf Chapter 5 - FalconBred

Dwarvelf Continued - previous Chapters

Chapter 1 - Shattered

Chapter 2 – What Now?

Chapter 3 – Durog’s farm
Chapter 4 - Rogue

FalconBred

'Where are we going, Papa?' Aelen had woken full of questions.  His quiet reserve of the previous day's flight from the kobolds a distant memory to the young Elf.

Ahead Taesha lead Apples the horse, ladened with bedrolls and food to cover the 3 days it would take to get to Dalgroth. 'We are going to my home.  We are going to meet my father.' They had been travelling for several hours, having risen before dawn and set-off on the main road west below the valley mouth. 

Day 15 - False Memories

'We need more children.'

'We are turning them over as fast as we can, it's getting more and more difficult. The feds are starting to stitch things together.'

Malachai looked out across the city. He and Adam had agreed to meet at the Terry Road Lookout. The lookout was at the top of the rise coming out of Denistone park, a casual 17 km's as the crow flies from the Sydney CBD.

'What's their issue?'

'Think about it, we've abducted six kids over the last 12 months, two months apart each time. Then strangely, each child reappears on the other side of the city physically and for all intents and purposes mentally healthy, with the exception that they cannot quite recall what has occurred in the last twelve months.  It doesn't take a genius to string it together.'

Day 14 - Dice Days continued - A Party Forms

This story is preceded by these three previous rolls

Dice - Day One - Medusa

Dice - Day 2 - The Ale Mage

Dice Day 3 - Garjoh and the Trident 

    Jelex woke to the sounds of the forest, birds singing in the trees. Crickets chirping in the warmth of the morning sun, flies and other small insects flying sparkling like floating diamonds in the sunrays breaking through the canopy of the forest.

Day 13 - flight

This story is a follow-on from An Explanation 

Julie leant back in her chair and looked about her. It was mid-afternoon in the Mission’s Old Brewery. The few people around her were consumed in their own conversations. 

A few hipsters having a debate about the merits of the latest brew on tap, a young couple leaning back in their chairs enjoying each other’s company. The barkeep, wiping down the bar top for the hundredth time since she’d turned.

Who the hell was Pig Napper? Obviously having emailed her investigirl account, it had to be someone referred onto her by DT3. 

Shutting her laptop, she casually dropped it into her backpack, slung it over her shoulder and downed her beer before nonchalantly exiting.  That was enough time in the bar; too long in any one spot was dangerous now.

Day 12 - Back to school for the Bumchin

Today's writing prompt was 'Dialogue'. I went with that as I was a bit stuck on what to write. The below dialogue is a build upon a story I did on Day 7 of last years challenge day-7-bumchin.html

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'Pssst! Mr Bumchin. Mr Bumchin!'

Jelex was madly searching for the Bumchin. It was baffling, how could he always be turning up when she least expected him, and now that she needed him he was nowhere to be found.  

She had already been down the back yard and lifted the tin over the tunnel cubby, thumped, scratched and dug at the earth with no luck. 

Half an hour of trying to persuade Nutmeg to go find him, everything; treats, tug-o-war, hide and seek in the backyard. Nutmeg had loved it, but the dopey dog was no help whatsoever. What was she going to do?

'Jelex! Dinner!'

'I'll be up in a minute!'

Standing still in the middle yard, the orange tree its branches sagging to the ground under the weight of the ripening fruit. The forlorn and unused clothesline she had seen him hang from while Nutmeg tried to nip his feet. It was all still, where could he be?

'Mr Bumchin, please.' her voice wavering, chin quivering, on the verge of tears. 'Please Mr Bumchin please.'

'Jelex! Dinner, I won't ask again.' 

Day 11 - Speculative Fiction Notes

OK today James Bradley author of Clade and others hosted a course on Speculative Fiction at Writing NSW today.  Excellent course.  Below are notes and exercises we went rhoguh on the day - please note I used Day 1 - Babelism as the base for this course.

Story a day - Speculative futures course.

Types: Utopia, Dystopia, post-apocalypse, slow apocalypse. (Listed a heap of books here in my notebook.)

Following are some exercises that will form/aide in the build out of the preceding story, or help inform others.

Day 10 - The car exhaled

  He turned the key, pulled on the hand brake, the engine stopped. Silence. Howard sat looking out the windscreen. The bushland shrouded in a fog; a cloud so thick it was impenetrable as it reflected the morning sun.
     Opening the car door the crisp cold of a winters morning hit him full force, overpowering the warmth that had built up on the drive from home.

Day 9 - Murray-Darling

‘Fuck that mate, I am not going down there. Over.’

Jack stood atop the pumping station. Pump seven had been screaming when he came across it.  He’d had stopped all the pumps, once he had seen what was causing the issue with pump seven.

Day 8 - Chapter 4 - Rogue

Dwarvelf Continued - previous Chapters

Chapter 1 - Shattered

Chapter 2 – What Now?

Chapter 3 – Durog’s farm

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Hector sprinted across the field. Had he stayed at the window too long? His tattered black cloak billowing behind him, he dove behind a boulder on the edge of the Forest, not far from the path that he had seen the Dwarves come down.

Gasping, lungs burning, heart thumping so loudly he was sure the Dwarf standing on the verandah would hear him.  Laying as still as he could, everything he wore, his soft leather boots, black woollen breeches and shirt moulding to his body; blending into the ground extending the shape of the boulder he lay behind.

As his breathing eased and heart rate reduced his sense of hearing slowly recovered. It was quiet; the moon had passed its zenith while he had been listening at the window. He knew though this was not the only reason that it was so quiet. It was the dwarves arrival and his flight across the valley floor that had caused all of the creatures of the night to stop and pause; waiting to see what would happen next.

Day 7 - Introductions

A friend and colleague today asked me, where do I get my ideas from. Then promptly got crook and raced off to the doctors. So I thought I would give them something to read by pointing out the backstories on the characters from the banner.  

Day 6 - Read it out loud

I forgot to say hello
You know, I became citified
Of late though I have realised
That to say hello is to be alive

Even now I walk the street
and in not quite a boom.
I do softly say it; hello or g'day
Oh and how it makes me feel

Day 6 - Lycanthrope

Stopping, the cold on his face felt different as he joined the stillness of the night. The tranquillity that only exists midwinter in the mountains. Silence born of creatures big and small huddling together; in their caves and burrows.

Breathing heavily at the exertion of what he carried, his breath drawing in and reflecting the light of the full moon. A full moon that would descend soon. He needed to move quicker, he needed to get his package inside before daylight. Before he changed.

He stood looking at her, she was beautiful. Maybe, just maybe.

---

Today's Prompt, write a 100-word story.

Day 5 - Permission

‘Where’s your dad.’
‘Stop worrying about him; let’s just hang.’
‘but you told me I need to ask him permission to date you.’
Julie blushed. Did Toby just really say they were dating.
‘Wait, how can you say that, you’ve not asked me?’
‘Of course, I haven’t, I have to ask your dad first.’
‘Let’s go find him then.’ Grabbing Toby’s hand, she dragged him into the crowd. She knew her father would be around town fete somewhere.  Jacinta would be dancing soon, maybe he was sitting at the front of the stage like normal.

Day 4 - Rory's Story Cubes continued

This was something I started earlier this year, while I was trying to get my writing mojo going again. I was using Rory's Story Cubes after doing day 1 and 2, I thought; hang a tick why don't I try and get a really short 5-day story out of this.  So with no more said, here is day 3, and obviously, just maybe I'll do 4 & 5 before the end of this month.

Dice - Day One - Medusa

Dice - Day 2 - The Ale Mage

Dice Days 3

Garjoh wandered through the garden, the light from his lantern reflecting the silver of the olive branches, the shine of the agapanthus leaves and the sparkle of the fireflies.  The shadows cast by his lamp stretching and contracting in all directions as he wandered by.

It was his pride and joy; Prince Lukchr and Criluk had entrusted him with its upkeep. He knew he would be ever thankful for their generosity, giving a claustrophobic mountain dwarf a chance.  A chance to do something he had dreamt about his whole life underground.

Everything was in order, his celery and carrots safe from the rabbits, the orchid flowers closed for the evening, the cucumbers noisily growing; so noisily he would have to pick them in the next few days and then there was the glowing Trident, it looked beautiful.

A Vignette

The heat is oppressive, as I stood from tying my shoe. I look around and cannot see Steve. He was in front of me only moments before. I call out. His voice comes back to me as clear as if he was standing next to me.

Day 3 - 10,000 or more

'10,000 lies, would you believe it? 10,000'

'What are you talking about you wally?' Mick knew it was only a matter of time, the camp had been set, dinner was made, fire alight, John sitting back, beer in hand, watching as Mick did all the work.

'Trump, he's told 10,000 lies, Colbert referred to some guy at the New York Times who is counting. Well, that was the other day anyway, so I am sure it is more than that now.'

'oh, I was wondering when it would start, you know the fire, a beer, just the two of us, how long has it been now?'

'It's the intimacy.'

'yeah, yeah. So what's the latest, I've tuned out to it; it got boring.'

Day 2 - The Guath

The challenge today was to write a story in 40 minutes, no more, no less.  I did not get to finish or did I.  Good exercise to drive some creativity.  Note I did one of these last year - Here

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Exhausted they fell to the floor. Bobmadik had extinguished the torch, smothered it with his cloak. The three of them enveloped in darkness, so dark they could not see their hands in front of their faces.

Each of them had lent their sword, seax or axe against their knee, so they knew where it was in the dark. Then, with the knowledge of their packs they had withdrawn their trail mix and sat quietly eating.

‘Dad’

‘Yes Aelen’

‘How long have we been in here?’

‘I’d say close on a day and a half.’

‘Can we sleep soon?’

‘Yes Son; Soon’

They sat in silence, each in their own thoughts. Their fatigue addled minds struggling to not mistake the darkness for sleep.

Day 1 - Babelism

‘Father, what’s this?’

‘Put it down son, it’s not anything of use now?’

‘But Dad?’

‘Do as I say, nothing good can come of it.’

Jake looked at his father and could see he meant it. As he lowered the thing to the ground, his father turned away. ‘Come on, there’s nothing good here, let’s get back to camp.’

Jake stood, slung his satchel over his shoulder; it was weighed down with the results of their scavenging, some rusted tins, a few prime pieces of metal. There wasn’t a lot now, the town had been stripped bare by previous scavengers.

As the two of them headed out of the ruins of what was once a small farmstead, both in their own thoughts. Naturally quiet, as much as they were thinking they were always listening.

‘You can’t tell anyone, Jake.’

Jake looked at his father, he looked tired, in his mid-forties, he was an old man with only a few years left in him. Not that he was frail, or ill; just that in the world they lived in, no one lived long beyond 50, at least no one that Jake new. ‘Tell anyone about what?’

‘That thing back there, the thing you asked about.’

‘What was it?’