Friday, April 29, 2011

Late Night

Last night I got home at 11:30pm and hit the hay at about 1am. I went to a bar with some co-workers to have a little going away party for a co-worker who is leaving the company. I enjoyed spending time with friends and I saw a buddy I haven't seen for awhile. He told me he's going to propose to his girlfriend this weekend, very exciting. Reminded me of when I took the plunge. Alright internet nation, until next time. Peace.


Sunday, April 24, 2011

New Story: Alone on the Range

Alone on the Range
I um..we counted...we counted it all wrong, completely wrong. We got close, but close is never close enough, now is it? There were twelve of us, rowdy young lads, all early 20s. We set off in search of new land and new opportunities. The word out was that this planet was a rich bounty of the precious metal Citrium along with great ol heaps of untainted land piss drunk on oil. That’s what they said, the gunslingers sittin around the saloon talking out their asses sipping cosmic whisky served by silver bartenders with loose bolts and rusty grins. That’s what they all said; only a few old timers with dusty wrinkles could second that. We each wanted to be one of the few, one of those old space cowboys. Our horse was the Range. She was quick, smooth and quiet as a night in the desert. We counted up the fuel, herded up the live stock and poured up the whisky.

            Well, it's been drunk for years. The food supply just about ate up. We didn’t have to worry much about that, one of the few things we know is how to keep food. The live stock flourished in the pasture bay of the Range.  Amazing how pasture bay functions. Seeds are planted on a mat under the floor, constantly wet with Citrium charged water. The precious metal leeches nutrients mixed in flowing water. Grass sucks up the rich water and feeds off of the bay’s 100 odd synth-bulbs, quite a piece of engineering. Then, of course, the herd eats the grass and drinks the water. Sure is slick.

 Once we got stuck, energy was conserved by diverting battery power to pasture bay exclusively. We had to sit and drink in the dark. We cooked steer by campfire just like the olden days. Pasture bay went out a year ago. I’ve been living off the remains of the herd, meat kept by salting.

We had the planet in sight, we were almost there. The Range hit planetary orbit, but we didn’t have the fuel to get out; now we're circling this lump like a tumble weed, drifting aimlessly with no strength of our own, have been for the past 60 years. Ain’t no one seen our smoke signals. We took some off the battery to charge the incinerator. A plume of smoke drifted out her back, a beautiful thing to watch, like pipe smoke circling around until it’s blown away. Out here there’s no wind to blow it away, but it drifts all the same. We prayed that someone would see the mass on radar, the airy sign of our distress. Hasn’t been a soul, we were starting to think the planet is uninhabited. We waited and got older. I sent the last one out a year ago. I picked up his withered body, still warm, tattered hat on his head and boots still on his feet. His gun was as clean as the day he got it, silver and shiny, he polished it constantly. He was still heavy for an old timer like me. I loaded him into the pine box, made from the cattle barn boards. I pushed him out the transport hatch. I watched as the wooden box drifted into the eternal night. I would bury him if I could, just like we did back home with old Chester. The only problem was this is the great frontier in the sky, there’s no dirt or sand. That is the ground out there; cold like six feet deep. Stars sparkled like sand reflecting sunlight. Now that the last one is gone, who will push me out? Maybe I should do it myself and drift off into the night, or maybe I should just wait.

He went to pasture bay and slowly walked up toward the wood pile that used to be the barn. He found some boards of the correct size. He started nailing the sides together and found a door for the top. His hands held a nail, trembling. His old twisted fingers managed to nail a handle to the top. He stood up and held his coffin by the handle. He slowly walked down the hill, dragging the coffin behind him, dry pine scraping dead grass along the way until he reached the main hallway to the ship. He rested, breathed deep and reached for the handle. He continued down the hall until he reached the large boarding room containing the transport hatch.

I suppose it’s time now. He picked up the switch for the hatch, the long cord stretching from the side of the door and brought it with him to his coffin. He dragged the serpentine cord like a dead rattle snake. Once he pushes the button, the hatch will swing open and anything within the bay will be sucked out into the abyss. He climbed into the box holding the dusty control switch, circling the button with his thumb. Once he pushes it, he’ll have a few seconds to throw the switch out and close the door before he flies out. The door to his coffin remained open, dangling on its rusty hinges. He drifted off to sleep.

He woke with a jerk, something hit the ship, a slight nudge, and then it happened. He drifted off again. The hatch began to open; he woke with a jerk as wind rushed past him. His wooden home crept forward toward the hatch, making a terrible grinding sound. It picked up speed until it was stopped.

A large figure dressed in a white padded space suit at the opening held his foot against the coffin and looked down at the dying old man. Another, smaller figure stood next to him. They made garbled sounds to each other as the old man drifted off again.

He awoke in the dark to the sound of the pine box dragging across the floor. An intense joy consumed him. He thought to himself: finally someone came! I won’t have to do this alone, someone will push me out; send me out like the others, like I did for them. He drifted off to sleep for the last time as he was dropped into the cold sky.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Lazy Saturday

What a lazy day. I woke up at 12:30pm which equates to about 14 hours of sleep. I'm such a lazy bastard, at least I went to the gym.

I spent a solid two hours on facebook, sweet. It's been a lazy, boring day but it beats working. Tomorrow I will post another new story.


Sunday, April 17, 2011

New Story: Adverts

Hello sci-fi fans, here is a new story:

            “So which holo-tunic are you wearing today,” asked Herman. Hank’s beeper went off right before he could answer. “If you come over to my house today, you’ll notice the clean floors, all thanks to Dimension floor sanitizer. That’s right Dimension is number one in household flooring cleansers. The easy to apply liquid clings to a Dimension brand mop and lets go when cleaning is over. You can find Dimension floor cleaner and mop at any Dimension super store. Call 1-800-Dimension for a store directory to find one near you.” Hank rattled off the Dimension sales pitch while his full body holo-tunic flashed the Dimension logo. Bright colors filled the otherwise drab kitchen. Hank stood at over 7 feet tall. He was a perfect walking advertisement. His friend Herman was merely 6 foot 10 inches. Herman was wearing a holo-tunic displaying the Signet brand Hammer logo. He still had a few minutes before his beeper went off.
            “Sorry about that Herman, you caught me right before a pitch.” Said Hank.
The people of New America each worked for several mega-corporations. Their housing, food, transportation, entertainment, money and health care are all covered. The only hitch is that every citizen has to don a holo tunic every day, along with special glasses that have a slogan scrolling across the inside lenses. Each day was a different advertisement. Once the wearer put on the tunic and glasses, they would have to repeat a slogan, preferably when others are around, and slowly rotate while lifting their arms so that each side of the tunic would be visible. The people are walking advertisements. Their beepers would go off, approximately fifty times each day. Whenever the beeper sounded, the citizen would have to recite the slogan and slowly turn around. The taller, larger individuals were selected for over several generations. The average height of a citizen of New American is 6 foot 6 inches, and the average weight is 300 pounds, the bigger the advert the better.
“Oh that’s no problem, time will be up for mine soon enough. Did you hear about the new record for largest baby? A 20 pound boy was born this morning! Can you believe that?” Herman asked.
            “Geez, how big is his Mom? She must be massive.” Hank said.
            “Get this; she’s 7 foot 5 inches and 340 pounds, the second largest woman in the country!” Herman exclaimed.
            Herman’s beeper went off: “when you reach for the proper tool for the job don’t forget to pack your brand new Signet Hammer. Signet Hammers are built to comfortably fit in your hand. The galvanized steel handle will ease you into any home construction, craft, carpentry, or leisure project. Signet also includes a box of ultra sturdy nails with your first order. Call now to receive your free box of nails with any order of Signet Hammers. Call 1-800-Signet, that’s right 1-800 S..I..G..N..E..T. If you’re not satisfied with your Signet Hammer, return it today for a full refund. That’s right.” Herman recited in a deep monotone voice.   

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Long Weekend

Boom! It's the beginning of a four day weekend and I could not be happier. This week went well, not too stressful at work or at home. Got some exercise in and am planning on watching some anime tomorrow with my wife and a friend.

Goal for this weekend: successfully make a batch of beef jerky. I think this will happen. I have liquid smoke, soy sauce and remnants of other stuff. Have you ever tried bits of beef jerky on ice cream? It's the best thing ever. I'll have to totally do it up. Anyway, I'm off to bed. Peace.


Sunday, April 10, 2011

New Story

Hi, here is a new story. Part two of last week's. I hope you enjoy.

A Little Tweaked Part 2
Day 5:
                I woke up at 5am today, two hours earlier than the mandatory awakening time. Without my journal I’m stuck writing on the wall behind my bed. All I have to do is move the bed out of the way, very quietly, hunch over and write on the wall, then move the bed back. I had a lot to write about, one of my dreams last night was very vivid. Once again I had a very realistic dream. I dreamt I was talking to a director who wanted to make one of my books into a movie; this is all dependent on the fact that I wrote books which I don’t think I have.  He said the interplay between two of my characters would make for a very compelling and provocative movie. This dream felt so real. I think I used to be someone, maybe 13 was right. Everyone of the Prime State may have been an individual at one time, but I can’t remember when. I’m 12A, that’s my name, but maybe I had a different name before, something beautiful, something which has no numbers to awkwardly pronounce. Maybe I was an author and an individual instead of one of many, part of the collective.  
 It is now 7:30am, time for Morning Prayer. I changed into my government issued white tunic and headed out to the assembly hall. The masses of bald headed people moved and flowed like river water, I joined them. It took five minutes to walk to the assembly hall. I entered the assembly hall and made my way to the knelling bench, my assigned spot was clean, ready for my form to take its place. To my left was a spot filled by an older man. Until now the spot was not assigned to anyone. I turned to greet him and noticed he was swaying a bit and looked at me with cross eyes. He was drunk! The man must’ve taken to drink prior to Morning Prayer. Drink was forbidden by anyone of the Prime State. Individuals of the other states will do as their master computer tells them, but our Lord Father prohibits the use of drink or tobacco amongst his children. I can’t believe all the deviance lately. Yesterday 13 was executed for treason, and now today there is an intoxicated stranger beside me.
Following Morning Prayer we had group lunch where I was approached by two androids who whisked me away to speak to the judge android in sector C which was connected to the cafeteria. They didn’t tell me why I had to go, but I was quickly brought to the judge. He said to me, while sitting behind his large desk: “While you were in Morning Prayer, 12A, we searched your room for other creativity contraband and found some writing behind your bed. You know that’s forbidden but you do it anyway. If you would please read page 54 of Lord Father’s book of laws.” And so I read the law against creativity. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. I was soon escorted out of the judge’s office and brought outside. The time is now 11am, this is when quiet reflection begins. No one is allowed on the streets at this time. I have to get to the meditation building, but I’m already late. I could be in a lot of trouble if I miss quiet reflection. Those bastards kept me late, they wanted to scare me. Well, its working, my hands are trembling as I run. My heart is beating quickly and my legs begin to strain. I see an android down the road, he sees me! I turned down an alley and picked up my pace. Now I’m full on sprinting to the meditation building, can I make it? This is all too ridiculous, all this fuss over a little writing. Oh no, I can’t think that way. “I must resist deviant behavior, Lord Father taught us to be better than that, his rules are the law.” Taken directly from Morning Prayer, but that is how I must live my life. I live for Lord Father.     

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Seeing Family

Today I saw my parents and my brother, we celebrated my Mom's birthday. We enjoyed cake and gave her some presents. Later on, my brother and I went to my grandparents house to see them along with my aunt and my uncle who is obsessed with math. We discussed calculus, physics and some chemistry and genetics to tease my brain. Did you know that if you were on a game show and there were three doors with a prize behind one of them and you were asked to choose one, the host then chose one that didn't have a prize behind it and only left you with two doors (the one you initially chose and the one remaining after the host took away one) then asked you if you would like to change your choice to the one remaining then mathematically speaking, the odds would be in your favor to change your choice to the remaining door? I'm sure there is some big long equation or formula to explain this. I'm amazed that some people can prove or disprove amazingly difficult math theorems.

All in all, we had a good time. It was nice seeing my grandparents, who are in their 80's! Wow, imagine all the stories when you live to be 80+. Well, that is all for me tonight, stay classy internet.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Week from Hell

Well it's Thursday night and my work week is done! I'm glad because it was horrendous. 12 hour day Tuesday was not fun. Anyway, it's done and I can look forward to the weekend. Tomorrow my wife and I are going for a home inspection. We found a nice little house and have to do the necessary things before it becomes ours. I'm very excited and a little nervous.

Ashley (my wife) is working Saturday and Sunday, so I'm left to my own diabolical devices, only joking. Only three more days before I post a new story. Who's excited? 

Sunday, April 3, 2011


Hello, welcome to my blog that I set up last night around 1am. The theme of this blog is mainly a journal, but once a week, on Sunday, I will post an original science fiction one page short story. To give you a little background, I started a science fiction story writing group at work (that's right, I'm a huge dork).  It started off as three people and has dwindled down to two. We try to stick to a weekly story, but sometimes people get busy and can't come through with one.

A little bit about me. I work as a QC Scientist for Pfizer, I've been there for four years. I perform all sorts of duties, most of which is in a microbiology lab. But anyway, enough about work. I enjoy drawing, reading, writing, playing bass guitar, hiking and running in my free time. I've been married for a year and a half and am very happy. My wife and I have a lot of fun together. We bond over our common love for the band 311 amongst other things such as sushi, we can't get enough of it.

So there you have it. A little bit about this blog and a little bit about my life. Without further ado, here is one of my short stories. I hope you enjoy it. Tell me what you think:

A Little Tweaked
Day 1:
                Today is the very first entry into my journal. I can only write at night, before bed. Lord Father discourages creativity in his children, but I don’t care. I have an urge to write, I’m not exactly sure why. He doesn’t seem to watch as closely at night, so I can get away with writing. I found this old book called the “Bible” to write in. My journal entries will have to be written perpendicular to the text, along the edge of the page.

                I woke up with a funny feeling, like something isn’t quite right. During Morning Prayer I met a man named 13. Morning Prayer is the time when everyone in the city meets at the assembly hall and listens to the teachings of Lord Father, the most powerful computer in the world. He created us, flesh from machine. 13 told me that life wasn’t always like this; he said Lord Father brain washed us all to believe that we are progeny of him, his children. He said we’re all a little tweaked, not sure what he means by that.  I’m not sure if I trust 13.

                I startled awake this morning at 7am, the mandatory awakening time. I had an unusual dream. I dreamt I was a famous writer. I was at a book signing or something like that even though I don’t know what one is. Lord Father never taught us about book signings. I was at one end of a room filled with people. Everyone smiled as they came up to me, holding their copies of my book. The dream seemed so real.
                It is now afternoon, morning prayer finished on time as always. It is now group lunch, where everyone sits and eats in the mess hall. I shouldn’t be writing during lunch, this is not smart…….
                I just got back from three hours of detainment for creativity crimes. I found a piece of card board to write on. The androids caught me writing during lunch. One of them handcuffed me, the other set my journal ablaze right in front of me.

                Morning Prayer did not go so well today. 13 stood up and started shouting. This is what he said: “Don’t you all remember a year ago when we had normal jobs. We lived normal lives. We were allowed to be creative, to think, to live, to dream. That machine over there re-programmed us. The supposed Lord Father didn’t do a good job with me. You wanted a prisoner, right? Well, you didn’t get one.” Those were his final words. He was executed on the spot, right where he stood. The Androids rushed over to him and silenced him with a morphine shot, three times the lethal dose, I was told.
                It’s now approaching mandatory sleeping time. I’m running out of room on this piece of card board. Until next…….