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Literature
Trick or Treat
The female voice on the other end of the line cajoles, “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re going to one of those sorority Halloween parties.” The one with the phone to her ear just listens trying to decide what to answer. The female voice continues, “Seriously, Megan? You know what those parties are, right? All booze and drunken rowdiness. You don’t want that. That’s not you.”
Megan decides to say something here, “You’re right. That’s not me. I wasn’t planning to—”
The voice interrupts, “You aren’t planning to stay home, are you?”
That is precisely what Megan is planning on doing. Caught, she struggles on what to answer, “Uhhh …”
“You are,” the voice realizes, “aren’t you?”
Megan twirls her ponytail with her free finger, “Maybe?”
“I knew it,” declares the voice on the other end. Her voice changes just a bit, “You
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Literature
Destination: Desert (CWJ #5)
Start!
=====
"Stop that ghastly flashing!" In the near black room, the only light source comes from a single stationary dot. The light, though, does not stop flashing. In fact, a burst of flickers long and short follow. All while the light floats down and to the side. A small circle of comforter and chin illuminate with each splash of light.
The voice from before sounds again, "Yes! Yes, I'm awake."
Another burst of flashes. The barely-lit blanket stir a little as whatever is under it moves a little. "I can still hear you with my eyes closed." Flickers. "I can see you though my lids." Another burst of flashes.
This time the flashing light drifts away from the body in bed. "Don't you dare, Lighty." As if testing the sleeping one, it flies an inch further. "I can hear you." Another inch. "Don't." Inch. "You." Two inches. "Dare." A second hesitation and then it goes another inch. This time when it flashes its message, a circle appears on the wall near it.
The figure in bed tries another t
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Literature
In a Line
[TFs: TG, Female to plant, Snake people]
A man follows the red and green striped runner on the floor to the woman standing nearby. "Am I in the right place," he asks her.
She turns toward him with her curly brown ponytail trailing behind her. "I dunno. I'm not entirely sure myself. Are you here for the test?"
He nods. "The one written on the handwritten sign stapled to the A-frame outside?"
She nods to that and they lapse into silence. Not wanting it to get awkward, he dives in, "That was one crazy door getting in, right?"
Her eyes go wide. "I know, right? It looked like an elevator door but with a human indention in it. I almost didn't realize that I was supposed to fit my body in it."
He's grooving with this and relaxes some. "Yeah, but what got me was the all the weapons pointed at that opening. I think I saw a laser gun and a robotic arm with a huge mallet. I'm not sure what the others were."
She agrees, "Yeah, I'm not sure either." Again, the conversation descends into silence.
Th
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Literature
Visit to SuckleBerry Swamp (CWJ #4)
Start!
=====
"Some say this treehouse is magical," the guide concludes.
The raccoon looks over at the alligator with suspicion, "Are you sure?" The alligator nods. "This isn't a trick to get me into that old rotted tree?" The alligator nods again but this time after a hesitation. The raccoon continues his assault, "'Cuz it looks rickety and about to fall over into the swamp at any minute."
Looking at the 'magical tree', it is just as the masked bandit described it. A big, hollow, rotting tree is tilted to one side over the water, weighted by the wooden sizable treehouse filling its limbs. Various vines entangle the trunk and branches and seem to be the only thing keeping it from capsizing. It's understandable that the raccoon is a bit nervous.
However, he did not ask a question, much to the alligator's relief, so he doesn't have to answer. The alligator tries another tactic instead. In his usual swarmy voice he says, "You asked for me and paid me to guide you to the various attractions
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Detective
A half a block back and she’s lying on the table in the head gear that makes her nervous. Tracey adds her two cents, “This is perfectly safe, remember? You know the commands. This is a simple get in, get interviewed, get out. Easy peasy.”
Sleep comes, but the dreams are different. No childhood memories. Just the waking up in bed and the day at school up until dropping off Luz. That makes her smile as the darkness closes in. She turns everything on and checks her movements. All systems check.
She turns to Tracey who says, “You’d better go on foot. We wouldn’t want them to recognize your car.”
Rubberta nods and heads out the automatic doors. During this trip she decides to try to change up the speed instead of changing the length of her legs. She sprints and realizes that she’s not getting out of breath. She’s not even breathing. Oh, I’d better work on that.
Paying attention to the m
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 5
Chapter 5: The Aftermath
Randi is not happy when she wakes up in her bed. In the other room, her phone is going off. From the ringtone it is obvious that it is Tracey. If it is Tracey, then it is time to wake up. Like before only with more dexterity, she lifts her legs and uses them to propel herself into a seated position on the edge of her bed.
With resignation and some exhaustion and depression, she stands and trudges into the next room, the living room and dining room and kitchen combo. Her eyes go straight to her front door where she drops her stuff as she steps in, but no,  the spot is empty and the sound is coming from elsewhere. There, next to The Chair, she spots her phone on an end table. I have an end table? Oh right. That’s where I stack my used dishes until I take them to the sink on Sundays. A quick glance confirms the sink is more full than its usual overfull-ness. Her attention returns to her nagging phone. Beneath it on the floor sits her caver
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 4
Chapter 4: The Mission
Then something different comes near her in the darkness. “Hello? Is someone there?” It doesn’t answer. “Are you friend or foe?” Again, it says nothing. Instead it draws nearer not in a fast or scary way but rather in a slow inspection. “Since you aren’t trying to hurt me, I’ll take you as a friend.” Another silence but this one isn’t frightening since someone else is there. “I don’t suppose you know how to work thing do you?” Randi sighs as she doesn’t get an answer, “I didn’t think so.”
“Well, Tracey knows I’m here, so she’ll probably save me soon if I – we can’t figure this out. In the meantime, you mind if I just talk? It’s nice having you here. I think I’d have totally broken down if you hadn’t shown up. I kinda wish I could turn on the lights around here so I could see who I’m talking to. But since
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Literature
Untitled (CWJ #3)
Start!
=====
Crrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaakkkkkk! The door opens with a groan. Soft footfalls patter across the wooden boards.
Upon reaching the half open entrance, the flurry blue monster stops. "Awwww, who made the door noisy again? I just oiled it." One might be frightened of the 8 foot tall, four armed and sixed legged beast that looks like it could crush a person, except that this one has a giant toothy grin that crosses its face.
Without any identifying traits of either gender someone could only guess that this thing is a guy from his deeper voice which is in the tenor or alto range. He pulls off his backpack from his back and holds it with one pair of arms while sorting through it with the other.
Pulling it out his prize he raises it with pride, "Ah Ha! I found it!"
It's an oil can with trigger action pump and adjustable nozzle for getting just the amount of oil you need in just the spot you want it.
He uses it quickly and deftly to re-oil the hinges. Then he places it back i
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Literature
Trust Machines - A Good Night's Sleep
"Uhhh! Even sleeping on the couch doesn't deafen your snore. If the only way to get away from it is divorce then so be it," the female exclaims.
Both their eyes go wide. Neither of them had ever used the 'd' word before. Her hand covers her mouth as silence fills the room.
He breaks the silence first, "We've got to do something about this." His tired eyes look to her for a solution. The perspiration from her head has smeared her mascara and washed away some of her makeup, revealing the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair, in a bun, has started to come loose with strands of dirty blond hair at odd angles undecided if they want to return or droop down with her bangs.
His face has cooled, but the flush has yet to finish leaving his face, "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I think I'm more irritable lately."
"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have attacked you for napping and not helping with dinner." A slight smile comes to her face as she adjusts her navy business blouse. "Lack of sleep can do tha
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 3
Chapter 3: The Invention
There’s got to be something. Tracey’s brows furrow in concentration. “I know I’ve seen something around here that does that …”
“Actually, you haven’t. I haven’t released the Brain Copier to you yet. It’s in the chip aisle. Look for a giant telephone handset.”
Tracey pumps a fist in the air. “Yes!” Then she leaves the former dairy freezer converted to a workshop.
Randi lingers trying to understand. “So, you are letting her do it?”
The inventor looks back up to the remaining distraction with a smirk. “Of course. The sooner I agree, the sooner you leave, and the sooner I can complete this.” Randi looks into his eyes to gauge the truth behind this statement. He seems to be telling the truth, but is there something else there? She can’t tell.
Tracey pokes her head through the heavy door. “C’mon Randi! What are you waiting fo
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Literature
Dark, Windy, Stormy Day (CWJ #2)
It was a dark, windy, and stormy day. The "breeze" is bending the old fence far beyond what the support should allow. Yet there was one brave soul who is out in this foul weather. He was on a mission, a mission of extreme importance. Using his body to shield the box behind his back, he forges on as his wet hair flaps in the moving air.
The wind slows for a moment, the young man sprints to the cover of a nearby tree. He whips his package to the front of himself and nearer the trunk of the tree to protect it from the rain. Gulping down the still air, he catches his breath. The breeze picks up again and he waits for this blast to pass.
Once it slows again, he darts onto the slippery sidewalk. The gutters have swollen from trickles to raging rivers desperate to reach the drain. He pays it no mind. He has one destination in mind, and it causes him to pick up speed. Only to have the wind pick up and fight him. Moving the box back, he returns it to its protection.
"One block to go. I hope no
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 2
Chapter 2: The Inventors
Randi pulls to a stop in a parking space of a deserted lot of an abandoned grocery store. The cement pillars out front supporting the overhang are cracked with small pieces missing. Faded letters of the former store’s name highlight the final three there. The “LA” and “B” are separate, but with the care given them, it is clear that this is a lab.
She crosschecks the address on the paper with what is left on the building. “I guess this is where Tracey works. She turns the ignition key off and pockets them. The old vehicle idles for a few seconds longer before stalling into silence.
CreeeEEEEEEEeeeak! The metal joints on the door protest as she steps out of the car. Upon taking her first step, her foot slides forward on the tar coated gravel of eroded blacktop. As she approaches the entrance she steps over line after line of faded white paint and tall weeds growing in the cracks. Cement cylinder pillars
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Literature
Rubberta Origins Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The teacher
“So, just get the denominators the same and add. Simple! Any questions?” She’s not really asking. The class of students groan in unison. A quick glance would reveal that most the kids were looking in any direction but their brown haired teacher. The ceiling is coated with spit wads from a plethora of bored learners. Faint outlines of the previous message of “Welcome to Miss Tendere’s class!” have discolored the green paper on the bulletin board. Letters have been removed and rearranged to say what’s on a prankster’s mind, “See Miss Tendere’s ass!” That first ‘S’ was created by manipulating the two ‘c’s. A white border surrounds the formerly green bulletin board. What the original color was, only the pudgy professor knows.
A lone hand rises from near the back of the room. All heads turn toward the young boy attached to the raised appendage. All but one that i
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Literature
Eggs for Breakfast
The smell. Oh the aroma pulls at him and drags him out of slumber. Like an exotic belly dancer curling her finger while shaking her hips, she lures him into a half-awake state. With much effort he slides out from under the covers, slumps down the side of the bed, and slithers across the floor to the closet. Eyes still closed and drawn by the alluring scent, he snags a bathrobe and slips it on.
Zombie-like, he lumbers toward the source of the captivating smell. In the kitchen he finds it, the coffee pot about half full. He'd pour himself a cup, but he is more of a tea drinker. So, he reaches to one side and fills a mug with the translucent liquid. His cup says, "I put the 'temper' in 'temperamental'." If he were awake, he might have noticed that someone switched his cup with hers.
After a sip or two, his eyes begin to open wider than a crack. Ready, at last, he turns toward the dining room and the white haired female at the table. Knowing full well that whatever she answers he will have
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Literature
Beans and Cheese (CWJ #1)
"Johnny? Johnny," the frantic woman calls as her head darts around, "Where are you?"
A little head peeks around the corner, "I'm here, Mom."
Air rushes out of her body as it relaxes, "Oh good." A cart rushes by the young boy nearly clipping him. He doesn't even flinch.
Someone crosses her vision blocking her view for a moment drawing the mom's attention "Excuse me," the faceless shopper says.
"It's no problem at all," the mom replies looking around the person to spot her child again invalidating her answer. Leaving her cart behind, she weaves through the throng to reach Johnny.
He meets her halfway with a can of beans in his hand, "Mom? Beans was on the list, right?"
She takes it from him. "That's correct, Honey."
"This is one," he continues, "that looks like the one on your coupon."
"Oh, you are such a good helper." People bump them as they interact.
He looks up to her with the puppy dog eyes, "Can we also get this can?" He holds out another can of refried beans.
"Uhhhh," her mind dar
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Literature
Greens to Her (2/2)
Xavier wakes to a female voice calling out to him, "Sir! Sir!" Groggy, he sits up and his door closes. Looking around, he doesn't see who woke him up. At the foot of his bed, however, are clothes laid out for him. Realizing the plan of the day, he throws his clothes on and darts out the door.
A maid in the hall leads him to a door. "This one is the quietest. Go and be with her."
As promised the door makes no noise. He sprints down to the stables. There he meets a teen in flannel and a straw hat. A piece of hay sticking out his mouth would complete the image of a farm boy.
"Oh! You're here. Doc said you'd be coming." He gives Xavier a wink. "Trust me. We've got it all set up. Doc's gunna call me and I'm gunna say that she's not ready yet."
"Great. Where is she?"
"She's in stall five with her mother." Xavier turns to go. "Wait. Before you go, you're probably gunna wanna roll in the dirt."
"Why?"
"So you don't smell like a human. Chocobos don't really like humans near their eggs."
"This i
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deviantID

Uncle-Ben
United States
Yes, I know it's December. I was meaning to write this yesterday.

First, the news. There will probably not be any stories this month. Definitely not today. I barely got a lick of writing done in November. You can blame it on Thanksgiving, if you like.

What's really been happening, though, is that I've been programming. For those of you long time watchers, you might recognize the following pictures.
FCadd 1 by Uncle-Ben FCadd 2 by Uncle-Ben FCadd 3 by Uncle-Ben

That's right. Another programming language has gone obsolete (at least the browsers will no longer support it [Flash]), so I need to create it/them once again. This time in a sorta familiar language, VB Studio, which is similar to VB 5 that I used to program in.

Part of the trouble is that programming is a creation process that tends to not allow any other creativity...

The good news is that some writing got done this month, albeit not enough to post anything.

I worked on Maid for a Week (part 2) and Pastry Wizard 2 (and the secret project that won't see the light of day until June, hopefully).

Anyways, them's the news. And if I don't journal until sometime in January, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
  • Listening to: Christmas songs. Still. For some reason.
  • Reading: over my notes on Maid for a Day and Week.
  • Watching: too much YouTube

Comments


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:iconderfs51:
derfs51 Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2018
Hey, Happy Birthday, Unc! :D
Reply
:iconuncle-ben:
Uncle-Ben Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2018
Thank you!
Reply
:icontheheroofdarkness:
theheroofdarkness Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2018  Student Digital Artist
A new Happy Birthday to you. :)

Another year passed so quick now, apparantly... ^^;
Reply
:iconuncle-ben:
Uncle-Ben Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2018
Thank you!

(That's the rumor. People still don't believe me when I tell them how old I am. XD )
Reply
:icontheheroofdarkness:
theheroofdarkness Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2018  Student Digital Artist
Welcome. :)

(What? How so?)
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