The Daily Dime: Whales.

The daily dime rises from the ashes like the mighty phoenix, and just like the hydra it is, it returns with more heads than were struck down. Behold!

Gabe: typinghurts.blogspot.com
Todd: initialdraft.blogspot.com
Steph: stephonix.wordpress.com

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Lola,

I know you can't come yet, but words fail to describe life here with the Martians. You know what I've done? I can't even begin to tell you. But I will try, one day at a time.

Today, I woke up and went for a walk along one of the Greenways. I know you've not seen any, as they've not been installed near Earth yet, but they are giant sections of green grass that usually grow along a river. The whole thing floats in space, outside of the planet. In space! Can you believe it? I couldn't! It's real grass too! It has to be mowed, planted, and watered. I can't even tell you the last time I've seen grass, let alone in space!

I don't know how these Martians do it, but you can breath there too, and it's not cold like it should be. However they do it, you can look right up and see through to space. It's overwhelming. I almost cried the first time I saw it, and I could only be out there for less than fifteen minutes, but now I spend most of my days out there. In fact, if you look straight down and star hard, you can see space in between the blades of grass. It's amazing.

And then there's the whales.

Yesterday was the first time I'd seen a flock of them. They're just like earth whales. Humpbacks? Yeah, I think that's what they look like, except they're massive! Each of these whales could easily give birth to 10 or 15 whales on earth! They're so big that the flock blocked out the light of the baby sun the Martians created. That's a story in its own right (yes, they created a star and named it Elfin Sun). And I can hear you now. Don't worry, they didn't create it in the Sol system! You have to remember that I'm out in the Black.

So the whales. I was sitting on a small hill looking down the Greenway to one of the atriums that it feeds into (the atriums. You have to come!) when the light was completely blacked out. I couldn't see anything, except occasional stabs of light. I stood and tried to peer into the light, but I couldn't. One of the Martians was walking down the path and he saw me. Yes, they're just as tall and luminescent in real life as they are in the movies. I think it'd be impossible to make them look any more incredible than they do in real life. Anyways, this Martian saw me straining my eyes so he lent me his sight so I could see them up close. And you wouldn't believe it. The whales have wings! And these were domesticated whales! The lead whale had a saddle and rider. I couldn't believe it. This place is so incredible, you need to come here as soon as you can, Lola. I miss you, and can't wait for you to get here.

Love,

Roger (P'keet in the nearest possible human equivalent for Martian)

“Where did he come from doctor?” asked the nurse, concerned.

“We don't know, Lola. He showed up on our door step. Naked, and no ID. The only thing he had on him was that note balled up in his shivering fist, and he begged me to give it to you. Do you think we should call the cops?” asked the elderly doctor. Lola looked up into his sandbag eyes.

“No. I don't think that'd be necessary. He's just confused.”

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So, I think I'm going to start offering commentary on these things. I'll time stamp them and put them below the actual post.

The Daily Dime: Whales Commentary

So, this story is actually a peak into a much much larger piece that I've got conjured up in the more injured parts of my mind.

AND READ THIS AFTER YOU'VE READ WHALES! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! DISPLAY SOME DECORUM! kids these days...

It's actually a sprawling, and man do I mean sprawling, space epic. It starts about 20-30 years from now, and then ends roughly 3,000 years after that. Each Epoch represents a section of the future of man. In the first one, they have to fight their way back from extinction. The second one is the story of the displaced "tribal" man living on a vacated mars, and the last one is a sort of internal conflict with man with a much larger threat looming over them. A much more difficult to understand threat.

This story is great, and I want to finish it some day. The sights in the Whales story is actually a snapshot of a scene from the final epoch. These characters aren't in the story, but the final epoch is supposed to be this time of unbelievable peace and prosperity. Humans discover the Martians (who vacated mars before the Greeks were dukin' it out) in "The Black" as I referenced it. Martians are doing wonderful and miraculous things. It's a great story. I should tell it to you sometime.

The Daily Dime: This

Gabe and I enjoyed this whole short story thing so much, we got a couple of other friends to join in. So, the whole crew now is myself, Gabe, Stephanie, and Todd.

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This awoke with a start in the same salty pool he'd awaken in countless times before. Though he awoke sharply, this was quickly calmed. It was the same sterile white room that was as much light as if it weren't room at all. He laid in the pool for several minutes before the same walking TV set came up to see if he'd woken up yet.

“Are we awake yet?” it asked sweetly, leaning over the pool and craning it's boxed head to the side. This looked at it confused.

“Memory never sleeps,” this answered quizzically. The TV nodded.

“Of course. How careless of me.” Change of subject, “would you care for a shower?”

“This would like a shower. Salt itches.” The TV, which was little more than an illuminated box with tubes and rods that acted as arms and legs stretching out of the back of it, motioned towards the hallway.

This emerged from the shower room, clean, and in his usual white coat and pants. The TV waited patiently, outside, as it had so many times before.

“Is it strange to not have your hair after waking up?” asked the TV

“This,” he said motioning to himself, “has never had hair. He,” motioning to his head, “has, but never this.”

“Ah. Right. Of course. Pardon my asking, but why is it you refer to yourself as 'this' instead of I or me?” This looked at the TV and thought for a second.

“Oh, right. Because this is a dream. The mind is gone, he is gone, and when he returns, he will remember this as a dream.”

“But he is you, er, 'this.'” This thought for a moment.

“No. This is the dream. Just because this dream is physical, it doesn't make this any less a dream.”

“Right...” said the TV.

“Has his consciousness downloaded yet from the old body?” The TV shook his head.

“Not yet. There are some last minute images coming through, however, if it would please this to watch?” this nodded.

“Yes. this would like that.”

The pair began walking down another sterile hallway. This one that stainless gray color common to sinks.

“Forgive me for asking, but what would happen if you went without his consciousness?” this thought for a moment.

“this supposes it would be like any other dream. The longer it was aloud to go on, the weirder it would get. That is to say, right now this existence is solely reaction based on stimuli, or stimuli based on reaction as a dream would be, correct?” The TV shrugged.

“I suppose so, but I think it goes deeper than that.” The pair walked for a minute in silence. Then this broke the silence.

“It might, but this has given it some thought. Dreams are merely reaction to stimuli, or brain creating stimuli as a reaction. Think of a dream. They spiral quickly into chaos, but the only reason this dream spirals slowly is because of the fact that it's attached to a physical body. Most dreams forget their bodies, but not this one.” The TV shook his head.

“This is too much for TV,” he said with a chuckle. this nodded his head and smiled.

“TV, you're a good friend.” The TV placed a metallic hand on his shoulder and gave it an appreciative squeeze.

The pair entered the room where this would view the last few moments of his consciousness before death, the last few moments that were instantaneously stored on every hard drive in every cell of his body before being transmitted back to where ever it was that this was.

this watched on the screen as his memories were being sent back to this massive computer, every inch of it chrome steel, to be transferred back into this mind. this watched as he fought. He was a soldier, and an impressive one it seemed. It looked as though his fighting was equal parts ballet and violence. Then this watched it. The moment the bullet entered his head, tearing synapse, destroying every memory, obliterating thought. Then this felt the momentary lag that followed a soldier's death. The moment when the soldier's body took the necessary measures to avoid apprehension and secure proper transmission. this realized that there was much more to it than that. Viruses, both physical and virtual, created terrifying barriers for any aggressive force. Soon, this would experience true consciousness.

The TV tapped him on the shoulder.

“You should have seen the beginning of the fight. It was incredible,” the TV said with a peculiar amount of enthusiasm only he could generate. this nodded slowly.

“TV,” said this, “This is the part that frightens me most.” The TV cocked his head and arched his back in unison.

“What part's that?” he asked.

“Consciousness.” The TV reached down and embraced his friend trying to comfort him.

“It's alright. You'll be alright. I'm always here for you.”

“I know, but I don't want the dream to end.”

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Gang, let me ask you: what was on the TV? I have an idea, but I want to hear what people see when I don't tell them what they saw.

The Daily Dime: Parting is Sorrow

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

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"And you have to leave now, you understand that, right?" the blond head bobs up and down in acknowledgment. "We were there with Kevin, I was there with the couple in the car. We were there with the computer man. I've had to face you in every memory and in every way, and extinguish your image from my mind. You've been with me since your fear consumed you. But it can't be like this anymore.” The blond head bobs. The surroundings look just like that mall from so many days ago, but both parties acknowledge their illusion. There are no walls. This is no mall.

“I'm so sorry. I let fear get to me. I didn't know what to do,” she squeaks.

“Shh, it's ok. It's ok,” he encourages. “What's been done has been done, and we can't undo it. But understand that I'll miss you, but you have to go.”

“I'll miss you too.” The pair embrace over their fabricated food court table. She shakes. Rather, his memory of her shakes. They part, and the scene that had been given to him and made too familiar plays before him. The table begins to buckle under the pressure of immense heat, the white plastic chair turning into a puddle. Flames lick up at her from the ground and the table. This time there is no one around to watch and scream in terror at mystery fire.

We had to end it here. Where it started he thinks.

I know she responds. The fire begins to circle her. This time, she has a smile on her face, and her tears are no more. I can finally go there she thinks. The flame consumes her and the girl, the chair, the table; the entire illusion evaporate with her.

“I'll miss you,” he says.

Shhhhh

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wow. what a quick way to make a week move. just make a story a day bet with a friend. that friend would be gabe. i tried to make some sort of nice full circle thing. how'd it work?

The Daily Dime: First.

I can remember the first time she said, "I love you."

I.

Love.

You.

We were driving down a road. It was late, or perhaps early if you approach it from the back angle. It was well after midnight. I can't remember what road, I can't even remember the car. Neither are important, neither are what happened there. What happened is what happened.

I was pulling up to her house, a black square against a velvet black canvas. I put the car in park, and looked at her and said, "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

"You'll see me tomorrow," she said. "It's my birthday, and you're going to kiss me."


You.

Love.

I.

I can remember the first time she said, "I love you."

The Daily Dime Super Short Sunday: The Letter I Never Wrote

20ish words. i'm sort of under the impression that this presents a narrative, or the ability to extract a narrative. either way, this is what i'm using.
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I never got a chance to thank you for everything,
and apologize for the rest.

So, thank you, and, I'm sorry.


-anonymous.

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this is my entry for day 5 of the daily dime. and back to you gabe.

Daily Dime: Hamster Story

How one becomes eighteen
No one knows.
Rather, the few who know,
Know of the Inbred Hamster.

One holiday, Christmas,
To be exact,
A mother purchased for her daughter
A hamster "boy."

The shop lied, and the hamster
Was a boy neither in fact or deed.
Indeed, the hamster was
Pregnant, in fact, eighteen others, much like her.

How, from one to one,
Inbred become?
This tale contains
The answer to all..

Christmas morning,
Come to see,
Eighteen more,
Just like she.

The mother of the human child,
Quite alarmed,
Placed a call with the vendor for the
Hamster farm.

"Hold onto them for nine weeks only,
So that they can be mature,"
Except they didn't tell the human mother
To keep the children's sexes lonely.

One to eighteen,
Eighteen to thirty six,
The hamster children
Replicating biblically.

Soon, a child is born.
A hamster child quite different,
With parents brother an sister both
Affecting its disposition.

This special hamster,
Inbred like few others,
Possessed a scream quite fearsome,
To keep the others away.

Soon, the hamster left
His home,
Adventures to complete
Dressed in punk, Santa, and easter rabbit motif.

The hamster gained popularity
A legend in his own time,
And without that inbred hamster,
this thing wouldn't rhyme... sometimes.

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you guys are bastards, and i don't care. this is part 4/7 of gabe and i's super daily dime story challenge happy fun time.