Posts

Posted on

#18 Jumping off the Page

Bob sat down to write the story. He’d had the idea incubating for a number of years, but it was never complete until that day when he realized what the best resolution for the story could be. He was eager, and opened up the word document he’d been keeping for, what seemed like, an eternity. Today he’d write the last 1000 words, and be done. He felt giddy with excitement.

About 10 minutes into his writing, he heard a noise behind him. He turned to find a beautiful woman standing there. She was dressed conservatively, but could not hide her shape.

“Do I know you”, he said to her. She smiled.

“Yes, although we haven’t met in real life”.

“How did you get in? What’s your handle online?”, he realized that she couldn’t answer both questions at the same time, but each was equally nagging to him. He didn’t live in the best part of town, so his doors were always locked. And not living in the best part of town meant he found a great deal of companionship with friends online. He had over 1000 Facebook friends, surely she must have been one of them who was able to find him.

“I don’t know how I got in”, she said.

“What do you mean?”, he replied.

“One minute I was standing out in my backyard, and the next minute I was here”.

She didn’t seem like she was lying, and something about her felt oddly familiar.

“Where do you know me from?”, he said, as he stood up.

“We know each other from…”, she stopped. “Well, from…”. This continued about a half-dozen times, she would begin to speak but stop herself, with a puzzled look coming over her face.

“I don’t know how I know you”, she said, reluctantly. “But I do – you’re very familiar to me”.

He felt the same way, and had the same odd feeling of knowing the mystery woman beyond a passing meeting. He took a pen and scrap of paper and began to write down random facts about her, as they came to his mind.

“Are any of these right?”, he said, handing her the paper.

“They’re spot-on”, she said. “My name is Calissa, I live in the southwest, and I’m a bit of a workaholic”. He’d included the last one, feeling a bit bad. After all, that could be taken either way, as a compliment or a character flaw. She seemed to gravitate toward the latter.

“What do you know about me?”, he asked.

“Nothing specific – I don’t even know where this place is. It just seems really familiar”. She stood there, across from him, as he tried to put the pieces together. Suddenly, he rushed to his computer, a look of horror coming over his face.

“Calissa – but nobody calls you that – they call you Kelly – right?”. She nodded.

“Oh God! This isn’t possible”. He quickly punched CTRL-F on his keyboard, typed “Calissa” into the find box. It returned the first result.

Calissa never was there for him, she was always working, always off on some business trip or personal errand. In brief moments, Robert could see the shadow of her former self. The old Calissa, before the world happened and she adopted the nickname. Here he was again, alone at the house. She’d walked outside, but when he looked for her, she’d disappeared. 

She looked over his shoulder in disbelief. He quickly saved the document and minimized it.

“Why do you have details about my life written down there? Have you been stalking me?”, she asked accusatorially.

“Kelly, this is kind of hard to explain”, he said, as he offered her a seat, and sat down himself. “You’re someone I made up, years ago, in my story”.

“That’s impossible! I’m as real as you are”, she replied incredulously.

“And yet you don’t know how you got here, and I know a lot about you, and you know little about me other than familiarity”. He replied.

“So how did I get here”, she asked.

“I don’t know”, he said. “Maybe it was something I wrote”.

He opened up the word document again, and read the last paragraph:

He was changing everything, out with the old, in with something unknown. Everyone he knew he was casting out, starting with the frigid girl he rarely saw

“Robert thinks I’m frigid!?!”, she had read over his shoulder once more.

“I guess he does – when I write I sorta lose myself in it. I guess Robert was cleaning house, and you were something he cleaned out. But how you got here, how you became as real to me as I am, I have no idea”.

–

They found him 4 days after the leak had been discovered and fixed. They didn’t know his house had been affected. It wasn’t until he’d been reported missing that they went searching. He’d gone quickly, slumped over the keyboard of his computer. On the screen, they found his final words.

“He had changed his mind, he wanted her back. After all they had been through, they were finally together again. “I love you Bob”, she said as they drifted off to sleep.

[SSDay]

Posted on

#17 In A Hurry

I’m in a hurry
A rush you see
I’m in a hurry
Don’t you dare bother me

Things to do, bags to pack
A list a mile long
Papers to gather, books to stack
An urge to right all that’s wrong

I’m in a hurry
Time nearly ran out.
I’m in a hurry
Without a

[SSDay]

Posted on

#16 Take It Away

The old library sat unused, the new one sat next door. The old library was the site of many a hot debate by impassioned undergraduates inspired to succeed as they were the first to attend college in their family, the first to be able to sit around all day and think as opposed to work. The first to be given that sort of freedom. The new library’s claim to fame was that it sported a coffee bar, and lots of big plush chairs near power outlets.

The old car sits on the used car lot, abandoned by it’s owner. They had been through good and bad, and many jury-rigged fixes in place of regular maintenance. He had driven it down to fumes numerous times, praying that it could make it just a bit farther to the next gas station. It had been where he got his first traffic ticket, and made out with his future-wife. Now the new car sat in the garage,  and he felt he’d earned it through years of hard work. But it never felt the same.

The old computer waits for the child to play with it. It’s the location of the first article she wrote, and where she slaved over her resume that she used to get the position she loved. It’s the computer that held the games which she used to relax after a long day studying. It’s the computer that traveled the 2 hour commute during her first years of working here. Now the new computer purrs and moves about quickly, she seldom thinks of the old clunker.

The old lover feels the sting of the rejection, and sits lonely with the old friends, and the forgotten family. They wonder aloud why they were abandoned, why they were cast aside as useless by the person they once knew. The replacements never see their predecessors, they are too busy enjoying the time with their new friend.

It’s fine and well to take away the old and replace with the new when progress demands. But one should carefully consider the consequences, directly proportional to the sentience of the object being replaced.

[SSDay]

Posted on

#15 TurtleNet Tech Support

TurtleNet Tech: Thank you for contacting TurtleNet Technical Support, my name is Ricky, how can I help you today?

JtBunny11: Ricky? Bob come on, I know you’re the only tech. But whatever, we need to talk about my download speeds. They’re horribly slow man.

TurtleNet Tech: Yes, I am understanding that you are having trouble downloading files?

JtBunny11: Well, not just that – downloading anything, it’s really slow. Are you limiting my speed or something?

TurtleNet Tech: What files are you downloading Mr. Bunny? It is possible they are large.

JtBunny11: Are you listening to me? It’s not just files, and for your reference, the files I do download are never more than 10 megabytes, and I never stream movies or music. But still, a 4 meg download takes 10-20 minutes! And this is broadband Tier 3, your highest service!

TurtleNet Tech: Often downloads are slow due to network congestion in your neighborhood.

JtBunny11: It’s not like Jabberpaw lives near me Bob – come on, you’re limiting me aren’t you?

TurtleNet Tech: I do not know who Bob is, and I cannot speak about other customers’ usage. Are you downloading large amounts of ‘torrents’?

JtBunny11: Bob is the owner of your company Ricky, but whatever. No, I’m not downloading ‘torrents’, I’m downloading things like images in web pages. I go to The Bunny Times and the articles take a minute and a half to load. That isn’t normal Ricky.

TurtleNet Tech: We do not show any problems on your account.

JtBunny11: So it’s supposed to take 3 minutes to load the Bunny Obituaries?

TurtleNet Tech: We do not show any problems on your account.

JtBunny11: Look Bob, I know you’re sore about our past dealings, but this isn’t fair. Tim the Field Mouse lives next door, and his speeds are fine!

TurtleNet Tech: We do not show any problems on your account.

JtBunny11: I’ma gonna come over there and flip you again Bob. You’re asking for it.

TurtleNet Tech: You should be aware that Mr. Bob has hired Jabberpaw for security. Mr. Jabberpaw is anxious to see you again Mr. Bunny.

JtBunny11: You guys suck.

[SSDay]

Posted on

#14 A Valentine’s Day Poem

The flowers were shaking, as I walked to the door
My senses were confused, they were torn
I was about to meet a girl, for the first time in person
Yet I was calm, not anxious or scared.

Time passed, we bonded, and we longed to take the next step
I became We, and We found peace with each other
We decided to be together forever, eternity, for always.
Still I was calm, not anxious or scared.

Now it’s been nearly 13 years, my love.
We’re in a pattern of love and respect, we finish each other’s thoughts.
We anchor ourselves against the rock we built.
Calmly, not anxious or scared.

[SSDay]

Posted on

#13 Attention to Detail

He had a keen sense for details, and she hated that about him. As they walked along the beach, he might interrupt the sunset to comment on the missing screw in the “swim at own risk” sign. As they stood at the train station, he’d point out the open plastic weather flap over the bolt on the read out. And as they fought over how to deal with delicate issues, he was prone to correct her grammar, or her handwriting.

He hadn’t always been like this. Several years ago, right after their 4th anniversary, he had lost a job. He was fired after a long battle with a manager who disliked him, and while the reasons were never really known, in his mind the origin lie at a mistake he had made on a presentation, years before his termination. After his termination, he fell into a deep depression, and while therapy had helped him get back to a functional state, the obsessive need to attend to every little detail kept him from fully embracing his former life.

She had handled it gracefully for the first few years, she had even entertained him, by turning it into a bit of a game, to see who could out nitpick the other. But after a year she had to admit it wasn’t fun for her, and it didn’t seem much relief to him. Instead, it honed his skills. She tried ignoring the problem for awhile, and finally she lost all patience and held it in outright contempt. The man she loved taken prisoner by the obsession she loathed, and she knew that given a few more years, she would either leave or go insane.

It so happened that she went for a physical exam at his urging one spring, as he had become a preventative health nut, looking to check off a list of the optimal ways to keep oneself in shape. They found a tumor on her neck, no bigger than a walnut, and the decision was made to remove it. It was the easiest way to deal with the problem, and while the doctors were fairly certain it was benign, he insisted that they be sure.

It required her to stay in the hospital for one night, for observation, after the surgery. He vowed to keep watch, and she let him mostly so that she wouldn’t need to answer a thousand questions over the telephone regarding exactly how she was doing. He kept everything in line for her, organized her paper work, kept track of her personal belongings, and made sure she got everything she needed. At night, they attached her to some monitoring equipment, and he heard the subtle tone every five minutes, as a light flickered on at one of the indicators.

“Nurse, what does that mean”, he asked as she entered the room.

“Oh Mr. Smith, that light goes on when we haven’t hooked up a certain sensor. Your wife doesn’t need that sensor tonight, but without it the machine will emit a small tone and light up on that spot” she said as she gestured.

“Are you certain?”, he asked. She stared at him in amazement. She had been working there for 10 years, and had been using this particular piece of equipment for five. She knew it would do this, she knew why it was doing it, and she also knew he was of a nervous disposition. She reassured him, but was firm. “I’m certain it’s fine Mr. Smith, your wife will be OK”.

He sat there all night, watching her sleep, and watching the light. He had resolved himself to the fact that nothing he could do would make the nurses stop the beep and light – they were fine with it on, his wife didn’t find it disturbing, and the world wasn’t going to end with it’s presence. He would need to put it out of his mind.

At about 2 AM, the light turned off and the tone stopped. He thought “Perhaps it times out after 6 hours of inactivity”, but kept vigilant incase it would return. He was not surprised when it did, about 10 minutes later. But this time, it was different. The tone was more shrill, and the light was slightly to the left of it’s former position. He raced out of the room to the nurses station and told her.

“It’s fine Mr. Smith, that has to be the same light – there aren’t any others on that end of the machine”, she reported. He couldn’t accept that. He’d lived with one detail out of order for hours now, and another could not be tolerated. He began searching the hallways, interrogating every person he found with a badge about the machine, while periodically checking on his wife. Finally, after about 30 minutes, a doctor took pity on him, and went to her room with him to check.

“Mr. Smith, it’s just like they told you – look, the light is the same, and I can show you the page in the operators manual for this machine that explains why the light and tone persists”. The doctor was incredibly kind about the confusion, showed him the manual, and suggested he get some rest.

“You must have nodded off for a few minutes, and when you noticed the tone again, it seemed different due to your lack of sleep”, he said. Mr. Smith was tired, and in no capability to protest at this point. He stayed there the rest of the night, asleep in a chair.

The next morning, his wife woke him with a sharp command and stern look.

“I hear you had half the hospital going crazy last night about that silly light”, she barked. He meekly told her his side, but she would have none of it. “I know you mean well, but this is crazy. We need time apart. You can go home, I’m going to my mother’s” she said.

Weeks passed as he languished at their home. She seemed more and more distant, more sure of her decision to leave. She was the only thing holding him together, and without her, he knew that the obsession would own him, he would end up committed, and his life would be reduced to rubble.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. He looked out the window and saw her standing there, papers in hand. This was it, she had come to show him the end of their marriage on paper, he would not be able to convince her otherwise. One night he had let his obsession go too far, and now he would pay for it.

He opened the door but could not hold back his tears, as she walked in and asked him to sit.

“I need to show you this”, she said as she opened the large file. To his surprise, it was not filled with legal papers, but with medical X-ray images. He saw the walnut sized lump, and saw that the papers contained were a lab report.

“When they analyzed it, they found out it wasn’t benign”, she said. “In fact, it would have grown pretty quickly, and within a few months, been inoperable.”. He was shocked. His obsession with details had saved her. Maybe not that night in the hospital, but if it hadn’t been for the same motivations that haunted him that night, she wouldn’t be sitting in the house today.

“I think, with some help, I can learn to be there for you, like you’ve been there for me”, she said. She showed him the card of a psychologist that she had been seeing. “I don’t think I ever realized how much the obsessions you have were driven by a need to protect me, and us”, she whispered. They collapsed into each other’s arms on the couch, and for the first time in years, no detail seemed out of place.

[SSDay]

Posted on

Peer Pressure

For every kid whose parent warned them about peer pressure, consider this. Each morning this winter, I’ve stood on the train platform, safely enclosed in a small heated room, provided to commuters to wait in. The room isn’t very big, but its big enough, and its about 60 degrees, as opposed to the below freezing temps outside.

Each morning, a lady I don’t know, comes in with me for a few minutes. She then sees a friend outside and usually makes some comment about her rugged friend who is braving the elements. She then, reluctantly, goes out to join her. I don’t think she wants to, I think she’s somewhat hesitant to not appear tough. Why she cares? Who knows. All I can figure is that Peer Pressure doesn’t end after adolescence.

In the image below are the “roughing it” women I took it from the relative warmth of the little room.

Posted on

#12 Dreams

A contact lens tinted green.
Buttons I had never seen.
A stolen car causing me to scream.
Thank God it was all a dream.

A 107 dollar gas bill.
A snarky boss I’d want to kill.
Running late onto the scene.
Unenjoyable crazy dream!

[SSDay]

Posted on

#11 Eleven Men and a Box

They sat in the room arranged around the table. The room was feeling pretty familiar by this point, they’d been there before quite a few times. Tom was gone, he’d ventured out to get something or another, but the rest remained, tired and worried.

The beginning of a new task always requires effort, and trying to transition from one state of affairs to another would be a greater challenge than anyone expected. There were so many questions to be answered, and none of them were quite prepared to tackle them. It had only been a few days, plans were uncertain.

At the door lay a plain box made of wood. It’s rough surfaces sanded down smooth, and despite varnish, it seems to reflect light in a subtle way. If the room had been darker, it might have seemed that the box was glowing on it’s own, but in the late-day sun filling the room, the box just appeared slightly lit, ominous in it’s simplicity and unattended nature. No man dared to open it, while all were curious.

Phil spoke up first, asking what they were going to have for dinner. Others grumbled, not sure if they were even in the mood to eat. That first week had been really tough, and they’d all lost a few pounds, although no scales were handy to verify this. They were all sure that in the weeks to come, they’d still not be quite back up to the affairs of the world. They were creating their own world, here in the room, waiting for the right time to act. The right time, they could not know at this point, would come in a flash several weeks from now. It would push them out of their haze, into the world, to meet all the benefits and consequences that they were destined for. But for now, without that flash of inspiration, they sat here. Some occasionally spoke, some told a joke or anecdote, and some were moved to tears at the insanity of it all. Throughout it all, the box remained.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and when they opened it, they were shocked at who it was. He sat down with them, and listened as they spoke. It was amazing that now, even though they had questions to ask of him, they did most of the talking. He patiently listened as the conversations gradually turned more light in nature. Someone, probably James or Jack went out to get some food, and they all ate together. He left a few hours later, mentioning that he’d be happy to open the box for them sometime, if they didn’t do it themselves. They thanked him.

Thus it went on for several weeks. The number changed a few times, as people came and went. Sometimes there were nine in the room, other times twelve, and always the meal was exquisite. On his last visit, he did indeed open the box, and the surprise it held flew out at them.

“You’ve really got to get moving”, he told them on that last visit. “The box is open, I’m going on a trip, and this room is awfully depressing in a way, don’t you think?”. They agreed, and left with him. Many went separate ways, but they would never forget what they learned in that room, or from the contents of the box.

[SSDay]

Posted on

#10 Staring Her Down

He sat on the edge of his seat, while she looked at him. They’d been together for so long, seen so many things together, and been through the good and the bad. It was hard to believe that she was the only constant in his life up till this point.

They’d met in highschool, and been together ever since. He was now in his late 20’s, and knew she would be leaving him soon. Don’t misunderstand: She wasn’t unhappy, there wasn’t another woman, and he wasn’t going to walk out. But it was the way life had dealt the hand. Her condition had been known from the start, they both knew that he would outlive her. Tonight they simply sat and watched each other, giving each other that knowing look. Whoever blinked first was largely forgotten by both parties the next day, however as the years passed by, the number of next days was uncertain.

“As soon as this is done, I’m going to make dinner”, he told her as he gestured toward the kitchen. She followed his gaze but said nothing. She was a professional at these staring matches. Her record had nearly 4 times more wins than losses. She only ‘stared’ with him, so those losses were all in his stats as well.

“You can’t watch me forever!”, he playfully told her. She still said nothing – concentrating as hard as she could. This was a battle, after all.

As they sat in the bedroom, him on the chair, her on the bed, they were surrounded by memories of their life together. The toys of youth, the casual messiness of their belongings that bothered neither him nor her, and of course, the bed that they shared. In the mornings, light would stream on to it, waking both of them up. Some mornings he would rise early while she stayed asleep. Other mornings she would be up, the veritable ball of energy, moving around the house, eating breakfast, watching the world outside. She worked in the home, and wished he could as well. They were perfect for each other, which is why the inevitable end was so hard to understand. Why would their creator put them together like this, and then yank them apart so soon.

“HA – you blinked!” he said with delight. He had won one, the first in a long time. They then both went toward the kitchen, ready for their dinner. For now, all was right in the world.

[SSDay]

Proudly powered by WordPress