Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Love this stuff, CPD!

Thank you, EoC.

[Allfather Waffles]

This is brilliant! Moar plz!

[Don Flouncote]

what in the sweet gibbering fuck

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

what in the sweet gibbering fuck

Which part?

[LMNO, PhD (life continues)]

[The 'play' button is pressed. At first the cassette plays a series of whistles, clicks, screeches, and a peculiar metallic rasping. Eventually, a woman's voice can be distinguished from the noise. She sounds like a mature woman, perhaps late-forties, early-fifties. Her speech varies from strong, clear diction and hoarse muttering.]

"Sorry about that. They bring me these toys and want me to explain them. Sometimes it's just easier to demonstrate."

[More noise follows, including no few expletives from the woman and that peculiar metallic rasping, now louder. The tape stops and stars several times as various noises are recorded and, presumably for the 'they' earlier mentioned. The tape resumes after several moments of hissing static punctuate by a trilling burble and three loud clicks. When the tape resumes, the original woman's voice returns, sounding stronger and less harsh.]

"All right. Now that they understand, sort of, my work here is done. But - [a pause filled with a heavy sigh and static] - it was refreshing to hear another voice. Even if it was just my own. I may keep this toy. If I can find more tapes."

"After everything that's happened, I'm amazed at how curious they are. Almost like kittens with a basket of balls. Some balls jingle, some rattle, some light up, some bounce, and some fly. They are determined to suss out every kind of ball in the basket. And then find another basket."

[The woman chuckles and then coughs. Again, metallic rasping can be heard, this time as if it is scraping over something soft and then clashing against another metallic object.]

"Gah, this is such a bitch. You never notice how much a handicap has affected you until you can't do something simple like cover your mouth when you cough. I can just imagine what wiping my ass would be like if I didn't have the hot pools to slip into afterwards. It boils everything right off and you come out feeling like a brand new baby."

[More coughing fills the next several minutes, dry and hacking. Metal rasping becomes louder and the tape clicks off.]

. . .

[A click and then static before the woman’s voice returns, sounding exhausted and congested. Small bouts of coughing punctuates every pause. A hissing noise, similar to boiling water can be heard in the background, as well as several different drips and an occasional far-off high-pitched burst of sound.]

“They mean well, I think. After everything. But we all know . . . I’m on my last legs. And I’ve already given up my hands, so this is probably it. I’d almost be willing to go to the surface . . . if I thought there was a surface left. If I thought I wouldn’t be dissected. Or just plain executed. I don’t expect to tell my story to anyone who cares, so an unfeeling machine may as well hear it.”

[A series of splashes fill the tape and then a surging in the hissing bubbling noise. The woman sighs, her breath hitching at the end as she coughs.]
“When I was little I wanted to be a housewife. A stay at home mother, tending her children, house, and husband. Maybe grow roses. Or lilacs. I’ve always been partial to lilac.”

[She stops talking and the background noises can be heard more clearly. The sounds of water in various states, the shrill screams and cackles. The sound of something heavy being moved across a hard surface. These noises, except for the water, recede into the background over the course of several minutes.]

“There. They’ve gone out again. Who knows what they’ll come back with next time. There are only a handful left. I think they’re waiting for me to die. They disappear one at a time and . . . I don’t think the fights are continuing. I haven’t seen the strange man or heard sounds of fighting. I certainly haven’t had my own youngling dumped in my lap like so many pounds of gutted fish.”

[Water sounds; the hissing boil, steady drips, a far-off rushing; are present. Almost imperceptibly, the sounds of quiet sobbing joins these noises. Eventually, the woman’s voice returns, rougher now.]

“It went wrong when I betrayed them. But they’d taken my hands and that man had tried to warn me. It went worse when I turned on those humans who were trying to fight them.

But the humans had promised not to hurt my little one. And they gutted him. Brought him to me like a trophy. Telling me they did me a favor, killing the one that bit off my hands. I tried . . . I tried to explain it was only because they’d become infected from all the cuts.

All the junk I’d been handling for the creatures, sorting it into piles, explaining how it worked. My baby hadn’t meant any harm. He just hadn’t wanted me to die from the infection. But they killed him anyway.”

[A long pause punctuated with coughing.]

“Now there’s nothing left. Not of me, not of my baby, not of the battle. I don’t even know how it ended. Who won? Why didn’t they just kill me, too?

But the answer to that one is obvious. Too stubborn to die. The good die young and I’ve never been that. Not good enough, anyway. It’s a sad thing, to look back and feel you’ve failed at every turning point.

When we’re in the moment, all we can do is act on the information we have, do what we think is right. We try not to act rashly, try to be cautious . . . but then we cage ourselves in cotton and concern. If we submit, dive in head first and commit fully to every day and every situation . . . well then when things go horribly wrong . . . and they will . . . we have the regrets to haunt us.
Sometimes I don’t think there is a right way - a least painful way. Sometimes I think the whole universe is spun of different flavors of pain, all of them heart-breaking and all of the awful. But our only choice is to pick our flavor and eat it.”

[The metallic rasping comes again and the tape is shut off with a harsh click.]

Dear lord.  The ambiguity of what the hell is going on here really creeps me out.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Dear lord.  The ambiguity of what the hell is going on here really creeps me out.

I try.

ETA: Bwuahahahhahahahaha!!! Internet ate my spooky laugh the first time I replied.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Now that it's been read a few times, here's the skinny. That last bit was part of Khara's story, in the Nessies epic, that I never got around to posting.

[Lenin McCarthy]

All of these are brilliant!

[Don Flouncote]

Now that it's been read a few times, here's the skinny. That last bit was part of Khara's story, in the Nessies epic, that I never got around to posting.

 

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Now that it's been read a few times, here's the skinny. That last bit was part of Khara's story, in the Nessies epic, that I never got around to posting.

 

I couldn't finish it and then life happened and my computer randomly renamed some of my files so I thought it was gone. Found part of it in my mp3s and tweaked it a little. Added to it. And brought it here to give someone else nightmares for a change. :P Aren't I kind and caring?

[Eater of Clowns]

Now that it's been read a few times, here's the skinny. That last bit was part of Khara's story, in the Nessies epic, that I never got around to posting.

That's what I thought as soon as I read it!

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Now that it's been read a few times, here's the skinny. That last bit was part of Khara's story, in the Nessies epic, that I never got around to posting.

That's what I thought as soon as I read it!

Woo! There's more to it, somewhere. Should I put the rest of it up or let it stay buried? I kinda don't want to start something now that Khara isn't here anymore. I need to e-mail her this bit, before I forget.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Bad poem is bad. I got the first three lines in the shower and then forgot the rest. It wasn't this, but this is what came out when I tried to re-write it. Hoping the original will occur to me now that I have part of it out of my head. Mah brain is fried.



See the rebel sun send messages
through the moon;
how it is always watching us,
the light will always find us;
there is nowhere to hide.

Comforting in a cruel way,
we live by light, after all.

Save the nights the sky is black,
when we howl and bay
for the moon to come back
to reflect
the glory of the sun
into something that doesn’t burn
quite as much.

No one likes
being left alone
in the dark.

[LMNO, PhD (life continues)]

CPD, I've been compiling/editing the Nessies stuff.  I've gotten Khara's permission to keep her narratives intact.  If it's ok with you, I'd like to grab this and add it into the story.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

CPD, I've been compiling/editing the Nessies stuff.  I've gotten Khara's permission to keep her narratives intact.  If it's ok with you, I'd like to grab this and add it into the story.

Go for it. Same with the other parts, if I keep on with it, here.