Story Episode #8

Before I could change my mind, I closed my eyes and contacted Jack.  The bastard was VRing.  I appeared right in the middle of what appeared to be a typically epic battle between the Ferengi and the Starship Enterprise.  Jack was unfazed by my appearance and continued to shout orders from the captain chair.  I looked down at myself and sighed in resignation, the goddamn VR had clothed me in a red and black unitard.  I knew better than to interrupt Jack in one of his frequent forays into old Sci-Fi, who knows, maybe this time he was actually doing some research.  Unlikely, but possible.  Always best to give him the benefit of the doubt.  I was about to go search the ship for the holodeck when Jack suddenly looks up and recognizes me.  He makes the "pause scene" motion and we're suspended in time.
"I assume you have good news?"  He leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together, classic, though cliché...


While doing a small bit of research for this part, I came across this: Blue Stripe: The Life and Times of a Holodeck Janitor, which is an interesting bit of reading. 

Story Episode #7

Eventually, after much anguish, I found myself in front of the most ordinary house in the county.  Not because it looked the same as all the other houses, though it did.  No, it had a certain je ne sais quoi that caused it to fade into your subconscious, you know it's there, but if someone were to ask you to recall anything at all about it, it would appear blurry and nondescript in your mind's eye.  I opened the gate and walked towards the front door, but instead of ringing the doorbell, I walked to the side of the house, which was hidden from view from the neighbors and from people walking their dog by a tall, healthy shrub.  And then I walked through the wall.

Once out of sight and in safety, I gingerly lowered the backpack and unhooked it from my arms.  Before I could change my mind, I closed my eyes and contacted Jack.  The bastard was VRing.

Story Episode #6

The sirens were deafening as the police arrived, loud enough to cover my grunts of discomfort as the durians poked into my back.  I knew I should have splurged and gotten the model that allows you to self-inflate a cushion for the back.

Nevertheless, I trudged on.  The day was full of light and waves of heat washed up against me from the ground but the warmth that surrounded me at every turn wasn't able to soak into my bones and ease the coldness I felt there.  With every step my back felt like it was being hammered by a spiked mace.  I imagined my shirt slowly being soaked and saturated and the droplets leading a path for everyone to follow.  Eventually, after much anguish, I found myself in front of the most ordinary house in the county.  Not because it looked the same as all the other houses, though it did.  No, it had a certain je ne sais quoi that caused it to fade into your subconscious, you know it's there, but if someone were to ask you to recall anything at all about it, it would appear blurry and nondescript in your mind's eye.

Story Episode #5

Three durians the size of my head were wrapped neatly in clear heavy-duty shrink wrap, they smelled about a week from being optimally ripe, just in time.  I carefully unfolded the backpack I had in my pocket and shook it out.  The wind caused a flurry of white powder and amidst the fake winter, I gingerly picked up the durian package with my hands and once they were securely in the backpack, I slowly donned the pack and took the back exit.  The sirens were deafening as the police arrived, loud enough to cover my grunts of discomfort as the durians poked into my back.  I knew I should have splurged and gotten the model that allows you to self-inflate a cushion for the back.

Story Episode #4

As I crossed the threshold and my eyes adjusted to the dim, powder-caked everything, I instantly recognized what it was I came to retrieve. This post office contained a trophy case of all the various bowling and charity events the employees had participated in.  It also contained the unmistakable stench of durian fruit.

At one point in the history of the human race, it was illegal to ship durians by most means because of its pungent odor.  It's something you either love or hate, and if you were a hater, the faint waft of the smell could cause dry heaves.  Nowadays, you shut up and donned your face mask if you had to come into contact with the fruit.

I let my nose lead me to the shipment.  As I rounded the corner and saw the package, I whistled in appreciation.  Jack had really gotten good intel on this one.  Three durians the size of my head were wrapped neatly in clear heavy-duty shrink wrap, they smelled about a week from being optimally ripe, just in time.


So, I have been reminded that it is Nanowrimo, and while I've been wracking by brain for any sort of idea that I could conceivably write thousands and thousands of words about and be able to re-read over and over again without being utterly blargh, so far, nothing.  Some half formed ideas of a sci-fantasy story that I thought of a year or two ago about a world that we discovered that is basically based on our fairy tales.  Chock full of unicorns and such.  They fed off of and evolved from our imaginations.  And today on the bus, children with special abilities, starting with a boy who every night when he went to bed, would in his sleep grow a special hair that in the morning, when he woke up and it fell out, would either create a creature (bunny, etc.).