It was spring, on one of those almost warm days with occasional bursts of chill wind, that I saw her walking down the street in a city two thousand miles from where I had known her. She was burdened by the accessories of motherhood and herding two young children along ahead of her. They had her friendly smile and her dark brown curly hair.
Monthly Archives May 2009
4 – A Treatise on the Making of Love
I suppose it started when we stole the MRI machine from the Westport hospital complex. Well, no, it started long before that, but as far as I knew it started on that warm summer night, on an overloaded dirigible winding its through the dark with a sizable chunk of hospital hanging, and only occasionally dragging, below it. It started that night, when I turned to look at Lisandra, standing attentively at my side on the bridge, looking down at the excised piece of architecture swinging gently below.
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apologies
It is too early still to apologise for number 3? I have got to get better at finding time to write. I think it’s pretty clear this one was not all it could have been, and the main culprit is finding uninterrupted hours to work in.
Oh well, you get kicked in the balls and you keep on walking…
3 – We Come to Earth
We come to earth in times of chaos. Wars, environmental stress, social upheaval. It must bias our data, true, but our job is not really to find the baseline, but to delve in, to see the nature of things. That nature doesn’t fully express itself in peace.
I was born at the dawn of a new century, in a country growing into its own on a planet teaming with invention and trade. The beginnings of a technological infrastructure were growing and the changes brought on by industry were tearing the fine network of tiny wounds in the fabric of society that presaged greater trauma. It was deemed a good time for myself and a handful of others to begin our work.
Under the wire, who needs editing?
#2 is my first 1-week story, completed in the seven days since #1. I was sick for about 5 of those days (still have a nagging cough), and you can tell this one was finished up in a bit of a hurry. I’ll edit it very slightly now that it is posted – typos and punctuation only, no changes to the actual story.
Road, meet Rubber, Rubber, this is that Road I’ve been telling you about.
I promise the next one will be better.
2 – Our Children, or, Mr Duck and the Robot Chicken Minder
Mr Duck came by her name honestly enough, despite being neither a Mr. nor a duck. The Owner had a child, who, at around three years of age, appeared several times in the yard and took an intense interest in its new denizens. This was in the early days, before Mr Duck had become the large matronly Rhode Island Red hen she was now. The child chose the names of Mr Duck, Pig, Charming, and Creepy Cat the rooster, and would not be budged by any of the wheedling logic the Owner had put forth in protest.
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