Tag Archives: Fiction

Sunday Morning Brunch

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Hey everyone! Thanks for stopping by today. I know weekends have become a down time for blog reading as the weather gets nicer, so I appreciate the time you have taken to visit me today.

I’d like to talk about my plans for the blog, my writing, and future publishing plans. This information most likely is of interest only to me, but it’s good to organize your thoughts and I hope that the outline of this plan may inspire you to create your own. As regular readers will know, Sinistral Scribblings underwent a face lift a few weeks ago to what I hope is a more streamlined and easier-on-the-eyes look. I chose to use one of WordPress’ default themes for restaurants, which seems strange, but I think it works rather well for a fiction blog.

At the same time that I re-themed the blog, I also adjusted my focus on my writing plan and it has undergone numerous tweaks since then. If you take a look at the navigation menu over to the left, you can see that the majority of the navigation items I used to have are gone. I have narrowed my focus to three projects: Easy Money, Harper’s Grove and Wyld Hunt. I have also made the decision to no longer work with writing prompts (this decision was made yesterday, so it may change) so that I can focus on these stories. Ultimately, these stories will result in enough material for me to assemble novels, which I hope to then attempt publication through the traditional route of a big publishing house.

EASY MONEY

Easy Money was born back in the mid ’90′s. The first few paragraphs of it were written in a class I was taking on Ancient Mesoamerica. Those paragraphs eventually became a rather extensive action sequence which was cut from the original short story on the advice of my long-time friend, Kevin Wilson. Kev’s advice was sound, as most people have enjoyed the end result. About 10-12 years ago, Easy Money underwent a revision to make it more family friendly- profanity and sex were removed and some the characters got name changes. I also refined some of the language and streamlined a few scenes so that they read easier. At some point around 1999-2000, I sent the story out to two magazines for publication. It was rejected on both counts.

Easy Money was pushed into the junk bin, but last year, new life was breathed into it when my brother suggested to a friend of his that the story would translate well into graphic novel form. After spending time translating some of the story into a script and expanding on the world and story, that project abruptly ended.

The characters and story were fresh in my mind once again. The asteroid colony of Yndi had become Yndi City here in North America, and what was once to take place in the far future, is now taking place a mere 70 years from now. The relationships between Gris, Reggie and Jefferies have become more complex as their history was explored. The man behind the counter of the Zephyr, once only known as “the bartender” with only one line, is now Raz, a friendly guy whose speech incorporates a few Spanish words and acts as an informant to those with enough credit to spend. The gangs – Tiburons, Raptors, Jolly Rogers – are more than just street thugs. They have goals and ideals (no matter how low).

In short: This world grew rather quickly in a short amount of time. I want to tell these stories and I think you will enjoy them. As of this day, there are three stories published to the blog, a fourth mostly written, and a fifth planned. The stories are meant to be read one after the other in the order listed on the Easy Money page I created specifically to keep things easy to find. This is, essentially, a novel that is being posted roughly 1,000 words at a time as I write the parts. As it stands today, it looks as if the first five posts will cover the time period of the first fifth of the short story.

WYLD HUNT

Much like Easy Money, Wyld Hunt is a novel being posted roughly 1,000 words at a time. Also like Easy Money, the reading order can be found on the Wyld Hunt page.

Wyld Hunt came about as a response to a writing prompt. It was so well liked, that readers demanded more – and so I wrote more. The original posts have been removed, but I believe there were three of them. From those three, I felt I had the germ of a good fantasy book, so I set about ordering the posts, figuring out what transpired in between them and began to re-write and add material accordingly.

What happened is that I found I did have a novel on my hands and decided to work on it. Chapters and scenes were written (out of order, which is how I do things as long as I have a clear outline to keep things organized) and planned out. I currently have 14 posts either written, at  various stages of completion or outlined. As of this day, only two posts have been published to the blog.

HARPER’S GROVE

This project is a bit harder to deal with. It has become a “catch-all” for any of the modern urban fantasy stories I have written – Hannah Anne (the witch at 11 posts), Mr Lux (the mortician who can speak to the dead at 4 posts), Mrs Jones and Clarence Brown (the library ghosts at 1 post) and others I haven’t introduced yet, for a grand total of 16 posts! All of these posts have been categorized and placed in reading order on the Harper’s Grove page. In addition, the actual beginning of Hannah’s novel has been disguised as the post, Welcome to Harper’s Grove! so I suppose you could say 17 posts.

The Hannah Anne stories will become a book someday, though very different from the stories you can find here. Many of the posts (in particular the ones which mention magical items from other published works) will not find their way into the final story. Stories that have been written within the last week are more in line with what you can expect from the book. It may be that at some point in the near future, I may scrap all the Hannah stories that are currently posted and start fresh as I did with Easy Money and Wyld Hunt. That decision has not yet been made.

What I can say for certain is that Mr Lux will not have his own book, but I am writing a short story about him that I intend to send to Shimmer Magazine first above any others. I feel that his story will be a perfect match for what they publish over there. The library ghosts will pop in with their own stories now and then, and all of these characters will make brief appearances in Hannah’s book (if it’s necessary – there won’t be any gratuitous cameos just because I think it’ll be cool).

IN CLOSING

Last week, I published 6 posts to the blog – 2 from each project. The total number of words I wrote was almost 7,000 (according to Scrivener – other word processors may calculate differently). In total, the word count on all three projects so far is around 27,300.

I am going to work exclusively on these projects. I have become invested in this – sucked into the worlds and stories of these characters. And I’ve gotten pretty grumpy when I have to be pulled away from them (sorry, Honey! Please, bear with me!). I can’t say that there will be a post a day or that anything will be posted in any order, but I will keep writing and keep sharing.

As always, please leave a comment if you visit and read. Leave some criticism. I have a thick skin and am always looking to improve my writing so that it will be the best it can be. If you have questions about something going on in a story because you think you don’t have enough information, check to be sure you have read all of the previous installments and if you still have questions because of that, chances are you aren’t supposed to know yet. Remember, these are novels in progress, not stand alone stories.

Again, thanks for reading and supporting me. You guys have been a big help to me, especially my lovely wife (who is supporting me in this endeavor despite the financial difficulties), the wonderful folks of the Fab Four Writers: Shannon, Steph and David (I’m the fourth. Go check out their fiction, it’s some of the best you’ll find online.), my brother (whose actions with Easy Money allowed me to rediscover a great story) and everyone else who has taken time away from their families and work (however brief) to read and comment on my stories with your wonderful words.

Announcing “In Other Worlds!”

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Greetings friends and readers! I have a short announcement to make.

I would like to happily tell you all about the launching of my new blog, In Other Worlds: The Official Blog of Author Eric W. Storch. And, I’m kicking it off with the first 1,500 words of the Wyld Hunt work in progress!

In Other Worlds will be my home on the internet for all of my novel writing, discussion about writing and publishing, and about my forays into publishing short stories. As such, I have moved all of the Hannah Anne and Wyld Hunt material from Sinistral Scribblings to In Other Worlds. I have also created a new Facebook page to tie into the new blog called, Fiction Author Eric W. Storch. Make sure you like both the new blog and new Facebook page so that you can keep up to date on all of the groovy things that are upcoming!

What’s happening with Sinistral Scribblings? you ask. Fear not! I will still be publishing short fiction here. Sinistral Scribblings has taken on the role of prompt responder and writing experimentation. Your continued readership is still greatly appreciated.

That’s it! Please know that I treasure each and every word you all leave for each of my stories and that I also treasure your own stories. I would have quit this whole business long ago if it wasn’t for all of you and your kind words about my writing and all of your encouragement. I’ve said this before and it bears repeating: It’s all your fault!

State of the Scribble – Holiday Edition

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comicholidaysI just want to give all of you a quick update on what’s been happening here in Sinistral Scribblings land and apologize to the few of you who may have been expecting some new short fiction this past week.

Hannah Anne Novel

Serious work has begun on the Hannah Anne novel finally, thanks to a Scriptic prompt I received last week. As I’ve been writing, all of the nit-picky details of the book that were fuzzy or non-existent have been coming into focus and falling into place. It’s been a fulfilling experience. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’ve slowed down on the flash fiction stuff.

Hannah has a last name now – “Ennis.” No one who participated in the Name Contest chose this name, but I’ll find some way to honor all those who chose Irish names because, for some reason, Hannah had to be of Irish ancestry. No other country fit her.

HANNAH ANNE ENNIS

I chose Ennis for a number of reasons. First, I love alliteration, and now all of her names are structured, “vowel/NN/vowel.” Second, Ennis is an old Irish name – an anglicized version of ó hAonghuis which may mean “unique choice” – a meaning that fits her character. I’m very big on giving characters and places meaningful names that says something about them, but I try not to make it obvious.

Speaking of characters, everybody’s favorite creepy mortician is now part of the Hannah book. Yep, Mr. Lux has been integrated into Hannah’s world. Like most of you, I like Mr. Lux and have been wanting to give him a decent story of his own. However, I don’t think he’s a strong enough character to carry his own novel – maybe a short story. In the meantime, he’s been added a minor character in this book.

Writing a novel is very different than writing very short flash fiction pieces. As many loyal readers have commented, much of my short work seems to come from something larger, or could be made larger, or something-that-means-holy-shit-where’s-the-rest? I must confess, I find writing fiction to fit into one blog post very difficult. I leave out much of what I see and hear in my mind while writing so that I can produce the short work that fits the blog format. Now, writing the book, I am free to dive into those details, descriptions and conversations that may not necessarily move the story forward, but do create a rich atmosphere.

One last thing regarding Hannah. A number of people have expressed an interest in being a “beta reader” for the book. WHICH IS AWESOME! I seriously love you guys and all the support and encouragement has been humbling. Thank you so much. I’ll be sending out the first few chapters after the holidays to those who requested them. If you’d like to beta read, just drop me a line.

As a Holiday Gift to all of you awesome people, here’s an excerpt from the first draft:

Hannah kicked the stand down and swung off the old Schwinn. Jack stood by, half-heartedly wagging his tail, watching with his rheumy eyes. The dog looked much like his master: old, thin and dried out. Clumps of hair were missing here and there and he smelled of an ammonia-formaldehyde cocktail.

Straightening her denim skirt, Hannah reached out a hand to scratch Jack’s ear when a voice like dried leather said behind her, “Hrm, he bites.”

“Jack doesn’t bite and you know it, Mr. Lux,” Hannah said to the voice behind her amiably.

“Well, hrm,” a skeletal hand the color of death grabbed Jack’s collar. “That may be, hrm, Miss Ennis, but Jack doesn’t like people.” The hand jerked and Jack was pulled away from Hannah.

Turning, Hannah confronted the mortician. Nearly a foot and a half taller than she, Mr. Lux was a personification of Death. Tall and thin, his joints showed as points through his black suit. A weak scruff of white hair wrapped his head from ear to ear, carefully combed back with Brill Creem. He bared his teeth at Hannah, which she knew to be his attempt at a smile.

“I think it’s Jack’s master who doesn’t like people,” Hannah told him firmly.

Mr. Lux’s grin grew wider, revealing an impossible amount of teeth. “The dead, hrm,” he jerked on Jack’s collar once again, though the dog hadn’t moved, “The dead have more interesting things to talk about.” He placed a hand over his breast and sketched a brief bow. “Good day, Miss Ennis.”

“Good morning, Mr. Lux,” Hannah smiled as friendly as she could. The mortician always made her skin crawl.

“Hrm, come Jack,” Mr. Lux jerked the collar once more, turned, and led the dog back the way Hannah had come.

Happy Holidays!

Can’t Fool the Blues

Work on “Can’t Fool the Blues,” my five part story being hosted by The Scholarly Scribe, was halted this week in my mad rush to get the first few scenes of the Hannah book down. I plan to return to writing part three very soon, but in the meantime, if you haven’t already, please visit David and read Part One – 1996 and Part Two – 1974. It’s some of my best work, I think.

The Master Class/Fab Four Fables

The Master Class will return for the Spring Semester sometime in January. Until then, Shannon of The Squeaky Wheel Blog, David of The Scholarly Scribe, SAM of My Write Side and myself have created a round robin style story thing called Fab Four Fables. You can read the first and second parts of our current story at my blog with In the Way of Dreams and SAM’s blog with Sinister Shadows. David will follow with part three and Shannon will close the deal. If you haven’t yet, please go read some of these fabulous writer’s work. They are all very good.

In Closing

There are a couple of other projects happening, but I can’t talk about them now. So, go read, go write and have a safe and happy holiday season!

Prompts, Comics and a Challenge

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Well, hello there, Readers! As you may have seen, I have been absent for a few weeks. Sicknesses (of both the physical and mental) have been running rampant through the house and it’s put a damper on my productivity. Things are getting back on track, though, and I should be writing more once again.

That said, here’s what’s been going on and what’s in store:

1. I just signed up for the next Scriptic.org prompt exchange. At some point between now and next Thursday, there should be a cool story posted (won’t know what it is until I get my prompt.)

Even my work poses for pictures better than I do.

2. I have been working on a TON of background for the Easy Money comic. Rob, the illustrator, has expressed a great desire to take the comic series beyond the scope of the short story and I’m with him 100%. There are a number of hurdles to jump over for this to happen since the original story was meant to be a stand alone without much history behind it. When I wrote the script for the first issue, I made some changes in order to fill space on the comic pages, but those changes aren’t going to be enough. This past week, I’ve been working on a timeline that starts in this current year (2012), with all of the real-world issues surrounding us now. I have been writing bullet points for every even numbered year beyond that. I’ve been focusing on politics, economics and technology. The goal is to reach some where in the 2070′s with a future that’s entirely plausible. After the timeline is finished, I’ll be writing a history of the main characters (Reggie, Gris, Jefferies and Stahler) and how their lives have come to be tied to one another. After that, there will be a re-write of the first issue script so that I can incorporate the new ideas. We have decided to put illustrating on hold for now until all this is done so that we can have a solid foundation for the world of Easy Money starting with the first issue. Fans of sci-fi thrillers should be pleased with the final product.

3. Next month is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). If you don’t know what this is, in a nutshell you have 30 days to write a 50k word novel. Many crazy people will attempt this challenge, most will fail and only the craziest will succeed. I have been eyeballing this challenge for a few years, but never tried it. This year, I feel crazy enough to do it.

Let this space be where I make my official announcement that for NaNoWriMo 2012, I will be writing the Hannah Anne novel! Yes, you heard me – work on Hannah Anne’s book will begin on November first!

Luckily, participants are allowed to plan their books ahead of time and I intend to take full advantage of that, outlining as much of Hannah’s story as possible before November hits. If I don’t finish the November challenge, I will finish the book, of course. But if I do finish by the 30th, it will be glorious!

Are you going to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo? If so, what are you planning?

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Out of the Frying Pan …

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This Hannah Anne story takes place a few weeks after the events described in “All the Demons” and A Gold Medal. For all the other Hannah Anne stories, please visit the Hannah Anne Page.

Hannah Anne sat on the floor of her living room, piles of books and old vellum scrolls scattered about. She was thumbing through a large volume on her lap, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips with each turn of the page. Bridget lay on the couch, watching Animal Planet.

Without looking up from her book, Hannah mumbled to the long-haired goat, “You know I’m going to have to brush the couch tomorrow, don’t you?” for the tenth time.

Bridget was beyond responding and only glared at the back of Hannah’s head.

Week’s done, this year’s garage sale had been a bust thanks to Roddy Garry. Everything had been packed away, including the box of special items for the special customers. Well, all but the Bowl of Winds. That sat on a shelf in the basement under an old pillow case. It was simply too big to put anywhere else. What occupied Hannah now was a puzzle she had been unable to solve.

In the days following the garage sale debacle, Hannah had talked to a few of her neighbors while occupying Bridget on her walks. What they told her all amounted to the same thing; they had all been overcome with with strong panic and fear when Roddy Garry opened the door to hell. The puzzle was that Hannah was the only one who was not.

Two days of pouring through her aunt’s old texts had turned up nothing.

Hannah slammed the book shut and pushed it off her lap onto the pile in front of her. Bridget made an inquiring sound.

“I don’t know, Bridget,” Hannah rubbed her eyes. “I can’t find anything. I should have been running away screaming like everyone else.” Hannah stood, rubbing the small of her back. “I’m going to make some tea. You want anything?”

Bridget pointedly stared at the television.

Hannah carefully navigated the mess on the floor. “Fine, then. I don’t know why I’m so nice to you, meanie.” Bridget snorted.

After tea was made, a soothing orange chamomile blend, Hannah pulled out the two ledger books for the store. Hannah inherited The Seven of Cups: Herbs and Sundry from her aunt as well. Business wasn’t exactly booming, but she could see that she needed to restock sage for smudging. Mrs. Johannson had purchased all she had in stock, convinced that she could get rid of the negativity in her house. Hannah was sure that Mrs. Johannson would be best served by telling her twenty-two year old son to move out of the basement or to at least find a job.

Hannah began making two lists of items she needed for the store: those she had to order and those she could provide from her own garden.

Deep in her work, her puzzle temporarily forgotten, Hannah jumped out of her chair when the kitchen door banged open. She just glimpsed Bridget’s behind as the nanny let herself out.

“Bridget! What’s the matter with you?” Hannah stood in the doorway watching the goat walk deeper into the yard. Hannah shivered. The air held a misty chill. “Ugh, you could have at least closed the door.” As Hannah pushed the door shut, she caught the sounds of Meerkat Manor coming from the living room. “And turned off the television!”

Once again navigating the living room mess, Hannah turned off the television and jumped a second time when someone banged on her front door.

“Hannah! Hannah!” The banging continued. “Hannah! I’m coming in!”

The door burst open and a figure stumbled in, mist tendriling in around them.

“Deborah?” Hannah caught her sister before she fell down. “What’s going on?”

Deborah righted herself, broke free of Hannah’s grasp, slammed the door shut and began beating at her body and legs swiping off mist that clung to her.

“Deb!” Hannah grabbed her sister’s shoulders and tried to stop her. “Deb, what’s happening?”

Deborah stopped and stared at Hannah, her eyes wild, long blonde hair a tangled mess. Pushing her glasses back up her nose with one finger, a gesture Hannah knew as a show of nervousness in her sister, Deborah whispered with strain, “I didn’t think anything would happen.”

“By the Three, what did you do?”

“I’m…,” Deborah hesitated. “I’m not sure. Johnathan and I…”

“Johnathan!” Hannah stepped back. “I thought you were done with that jerk.”

“Nevermind that!” Deborah screamed. “They took him!”

“What? Who took him?”

“I don’t know!” Deborah fell against the wall and slid down on her haunches. “The things in the mist.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was the mist.”

Hannah glared down at her sister. There was a reason that Aunt June had left everything to Hannah and not both sisters or even just Deborah. Deborah had no affinity for magic and no desire to learn.

Hannah spoke slowly. “Deborah, what did you do?”

Deborah’s shoulders were shaking with quiet tears. “I found one of Auntie’s old books when I was here last and took it home.”

Hannah made an exasperated sound. “You stole from me?”

“Borrowed!” Deborah looked up Hannah. “Borrowed. I was going to give it back.”

Hannah growled, “What did you do with it, Deb?”

“Johnathan found it and started looking through it, wanting to know if this was the kind of thing that my ‘weirdo sister’ believed in,” Deborah shook her head. “I tried to tell him it was real, but he started reading from it.”

Hannah looked ready to chew nails. “What book and what did he read?”

“Oh god, don’t hurt him, Hannah. I know that look.”

“What flipping book and what did he read?” Hannah shouted.

Deborah sagged. “Peadric’s Incantium. I don’t know what spell it was, but I remember what he said.”

Remembering the mist and now knowing the book, Hannah knew very well what Johnathan had read:

Pitter patter
Lightning spree
People of the mist
I summon thee!

“You have to help me, Hannah,” Deborah pleaded. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“You have no idea,” Hannah’s voice was far away.

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, SAM gave me this prompt: Pitter patter, / Lightning spree / People of the mist / I summon thee!.

I gave Tara Roberts this prompt: Memento Mori

Dude Write
It’s the 15th week of Dude Write and they’re talking about magic for the week. Why not send in my latest Hannah Anne and see what happens?

Could I have a Word with you, please?

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Late last week, I made a decision that was very hard to make. My days have been filled with many tasks and I have been finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with them all. It’s strange, but I thought that the kids going back to school would help clear my schedule somewhat. Between the daily household tasks and my various writing projects, my days have been filled to bursting. I came to the conclusion that I need to trim the fat, so to speak. I needed to find somewhere to make a cut and free up some time so that I can work on the Easy Money comic and a novel.

I decided to step down as co-leader of Studio30 Plus.

Not to worry, though! Studio30 is in very capable hands. Kelly is still in charge and the support staff is still in place. I’m sure we will see some cool things from them in the future. I just couldn’t be a part of it anymore.

I wish the Studio30 staff continued success in the future.

I have also been having a difficult time focusing on one project. I feel that it is time for me to make a serious attempt at writing a novel, but I have too many ideas. I put the question to you last week on Facebook. Today, I announce the results of what you guys have chosen for my novel project.

Here are the results of the poll:

1800′s Novel – 3 votes
Hannah Anne Novel – 5 votes
The Linden Tree Novel – 8 votes

Since half the people who voted chose The Linden Tree, it is obviously the clear winner. There was some confusion during the polling process (when isn’t there? Whatever happened to President Gore?). A few people (parental units from both families) were unfamiliar with Hannah Anne. One even stated that after having read one story, “I thought that it was someone else who wrote it so I didn’t read any of the others.” I should take that as a compliment, because I did write them and if I was able to bust out of my usual style and tell a good and believable story from a woman’s point of view – I call that success! Cameron Garriepy, a wonderful fiction writer said this about what I did, “Really great details to ground the character, Eric, and female without being cliché.”

So, I think Hannah may have lost votes because some people didn’t think I wrote them. I also think that there may have been confusion surrounding The Linden Tree as well. When I listed in the poll, “Linden Tree Novel,” I meant an actual novel, not a continuation of the serial on the blog. So, if you were voting for the serial, that’s not what I was talking about.

What I think I’m going to do is continue The Linden Tree as a serial on the blog. I’m going to try for an episode a week. That should keep you voters satisfied. The reason for this is that the concept of the story was to tell it as a serial and translating it into a novel format might be more work than I can deal with right now (translating it into a comic, well, that could happen!). For the time being, I am going to begin work on a Hannah Anne book while still using Hannah Anne for writing prompt responses when appropriate (look for one for Scriptic.org in a few days! Thanks, SAM!)

So, that’s it, I think. The Linden Tree makes a comeback, Hannah Anne is getting her own book and Studio30 Plus is in better hands.

Onward!

 

Time To Go To The Polls

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Me, trying to decide what to do next.

I find myself torn between three novel projects with very little headway being made on any of them. I need to choose one project and see it through to completion.

As some of you may know, I was going to novelize Easy Money, but that changed when I got the offer to change it into a comic book. In the process of writing the scripts for the issues, I’ve been able to implement the ideas I had for novelizing the story. So, in a way, I already am novelizing Easy Money.

Some of you may also know that I started writing a fantasy book set in a late 1800′s setting complete with steam power and magic. One of the major themes/conflicts of that is magic (the natural world) vs technology (the man-made world).

Others may be more familiar with The Linden Tree, my serialized novel. The Linden Tree has kind of lost steam over the past months, but I have been coming up with ideas to make it into a proper novel.

Lastly, many of you have fallen in love with Hannah Anne (as I have). It wasn’t much of a jump for me to know that Hannah deserves her own book.

So, I put the question and onus on you, my dear readers. Which book would you most want to read? The 1800′s Fantasy? The Linden Tree? Hannah Anne? It doesn’t matter if these are books you would or wouldn’t typically read. Which sounds most interesting to you?

Once you decide, head on over to the Sinistral Scribblings Facebook Page and cast your vote! I set up a poll over there and stuck it to the top so that it won’t get buried.

The poll will stay open for about two weeks. That’ll give you time to think about it and me some time to finish writing issue two of Easy Money.

Thanks for you time, input and support! You guys are the best fans a non-published writer could have!

 

PythagoraSwitch

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Walking the Line in Chicago, by John Rizzuto

You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he smoked a cigarette at 3:14. He always stayed on the corner until 4:20 at which point he would sigh loudly, slump his shoulders and shuffle away up Second Street.

He was there every day of the year, no matter the weather and was once featured on the local evening news, though when a reporter asked him some questions, he ignored the woman with the microphone and went about his routine.

From time to time, people said they saw him in other places around town, exhibiting much of the same strange behavior, though those stories were always second or third hand. No one knew his name, where he lived, if he had a job, where he bought groceries. Nobody knew him. He never talked to anyone, never deviated from his routine. In fact, he did not seem to realize that there was an entire world around him.

Children made fun of him, as children do. The teens were the worst. They called him names, shouted jeers at him, and once, about six months ago, a group of high school kids pushed him down. The man got back up, picked up his doughnut, and took a bite. Tommy Mason, the school’s quarterback, knocked the doughnut out of his hand and into the street, which caused the teens to begin a whole new take on their name calling. That was the only day the man deviated from his routine. When Tommy knocked the doughnut away, then man just turned and left, shuffling up Second Street. The high schoolers followed for a bit, but a patrol car came by and they gave up their taunting.

It all ended last week when the most extraordinary thing happened.

It was Wednesday afternoon and the man was smoking a cigarette looking around despondently. He then did something he had never done before. Rather than drop his cigarette at his feet and crush it out, he flicked it into the face of a passing bicyclist. The woman on the bicycle lost control, swerving into a newspaper box, knocking it over. The box crashed open, spilling newspapers at the feet of a father and son who were walking along the sidewalk eating ice cream cones. They both tripped on the newspapers, sending the ice cream to the sidewalk a few feet in front of them. A stray dog burst from an alley, running towards the ruined ice cream, and as it did so, it bumped a trash can that fell into the leg of a fruit stand. The fruit stand toppled over, spilling various apples onto the sidewalk and out into the street. The vendor at the hot dog cart slipped on the apples, jostling his cart. The wheel chuck popped out and the cart rumbled into the street directly into the path of an oncoming SUV whose driver was talking on their cell. The driver hadn’t seen the old man crossing the street he was about to hit, but he did see the hot dog cart and slammed down on his brakes, stopping just in time. Cart and old man were safe, and the strange, impromptu Rube Goldberg machine ended.

The man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis glanced at me and smiled sheepishly. Pointing to a bizarre looking watch on his wrist he said, “The Switch is two years off. I suppose I should have it looked at.” Turning, he shuffled away up Second Street.

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Carrie gave me this prompt: You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he had.

I gave Diane this prompt: If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything. ~Mark Twain

UPDATE: The actual prompt I got was, “You could see the man with the uncombed brown hair and the wrinkled khakis at the same street corner every day for two years. At 1 o’clock on Monday, he ate a peanut butter sandwich, at 2 o’clock Tuesday he had a doughnut, and the rest of the week he had a vegetable of one kind or another at exactly 3:15. It never seemed like he ate enough to sustain himself, which may be why he hasn’t been seen for over a month.”

The email I received cut it short. Obviously, if I had gotten the whole thing, my story would have been much different.

torrential-rain

Just Add Water

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For the first part of this story, read “Hannah Anne vs The Sun.” For all other Hannah Anne stories, please visit the Hannah Anne page.

Hannah Anne had a difficult time carrying the Bowl of Winds upstairs. Nearly two feet wide and incredibly heavy, it was a cumbersome climb. Bridget made it no easier as she continuously bumped Hannah from behind, bleating encouragement.

After setting the bowl down in the living room, Hannah let Bridget out into the backyard. She went upstairs, took a long shower, crawled into bed, fell asleep and immediately began to dream.

Hannah’s Dream

Thirteen women formed a circle around the bowl. Joining hands, they began to channel power into it, forming the energy into a four pointed star. The bowl glowed blue, like a summer sky and the clouds within the crystal began to swirl. The star became five points and the color of the bowl changed. Six points. Seven. Each time the bowl’s color changed and the clouds swirled in different patterns. When their power formed a nine pointed star, an immense beam of energy shot straight up into the sky. The women then directed their power at the beam, altering it to affect the change they needed.

Hannah awoke with a start. It was always like this. Sleeping after casting a Need spell brought a dream which showed her how to use the item she had summoned.

But thirteen women? And so much power! I think I may have made a mistake, she thought.

Sitting up in bed, she noticed she had been sweating. It was so hot in the house. The clock informed her that she had been asleep for a little over six hours and that it was mid-afternoon. None of the fans were on and it was sweltering.

“Bridget!” Hannah leaped from bed, ran downstairs and threw open the back door. Bridget was an Irish goat, with long white hair that Hannah never sheared. Bridget was proud of her hair and got fussy the first, and only, time Hannah tried to cut it off. Hannah scanned the yard. “Bridget!” The nanny was nowhere to be seen.

Hannah began to circuit the yard, dead, brown grass crunching under her bare feet. Bare feet? Hannah looked down and realized she was naked, stalking around her yard like some kind of animal. She had never dressed after taking her shower. With a yelp, she ran back inside, hoping the neighbors hadn’t seen.

As she ran through the living room heading for the stairs, she heard an inquisitive bleat behind her. Surprised, Hannah tried to turn around while also still running for the stairs and succeeded only in falling on her face, looking back the way she had come. Standing over the Bowl of Winds was Bridget, staring at Hannah. The goat bleated again and nodded down to the bowl.

Grunting in frustration, Hannah got up and ran up the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “I need to get dressed first!” Bridget bleated angrily in response. I’ll shear her yet, Hannah thought, see if I don’t. She threw on a skirt and blouse, No time for anything else according to Bossy Bridget.

When she got back downstairs, Bridget was gone. Hannah grabbed the bowl and found Bridget standing by the back door, looking over her shoulder at Hannah. “I don’t see how you can get into the house on your own, but I always have to let you out,” Hannah mused to Bridget. “Care to share that with me?” Bridget bleated short and sharp in response. Hannah grunted. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Opening the door, Bridget stepped aside so Hannah could go first. “C’mon, ya nanny. Let’s see if we can get this thing to work.”

Hannah set the bowl down on the lawn in an open space just past the vegetable garden. She knelt down beside it, Bridget taking a position opposite her. “I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, Bridget,” Hannah furrowed her brow. “In the book it took thirteen women to get it to work.” Bridget bleated softly, nodding her head. “Ok, I’ll try.”

Closing her eyes, Hannah slowed her breath and calmed her body and mind. She cleared away her frustrations, her hunger, and her stress about the upcoming garage sale. Taking one last deep breath, she opened her eyes, stared into the center of the bowl and thought about rain.

She thought about the cool wetness of a gentle summer rain, the ground soaking the moisture. She thought of the clean smell of wet earth. How rain sounds like bacon frying as the drops hit the tree leaves. How salty bacon tastes. By the Three, I’m hungry. Bacon and eggs sounds good. Wait! No! Concentrate, fool woman!

The mid-afternoon sun beat on her back and Hannah was sweating. Please, this needs to work!

She thought about the cool wetness of a gentle summer rain, the ground soaking the moisture. She thought of the clean smell of wet earth. How the rain sounds as it hits the tree leaves. The vibrancy of color just after the rain stops. I should really paint the living room a billiard green. That would look nice. Argh! No!

Sighing, Hannah leaned over the bowl to see if there had been any change. She saw none, and as she began to lean back, a drop of sweat fell from her nose and hit the bowl. The bowl flashed blue and the drop of sweat disappeared.

“Bridget, did you see…?” Bridget stood up and bleated excitedly. Not knowing what else to do, Hannah wiped her forehead with her hand, and flung the moisture into the bowl. The bowl flashed blue again, but it lasted just a bit longer.

“Bridget, I think we got it!” Something fell from the sky, hitting Bridget in the nose. The nanny stepped back in surprise, trying to look down her short snout. “Bridget! That was a rain drop!” Hannah looked to the sky, but there was not a cloud in sight and no more rain.

“We need more water!” Leaping up, Hannah ran for the garden hose and turned on the spigot. Turning the hose on, she aimed it at the bowl.

The Bowl of Winds exploded in color, nearly blinding Hannah. She dropped the hose, rubbing her eyes. Bridget had retreated to the safety of the hole she had dug under the porch where she would lay during hot afternoons. A bright beam of light shot up from the center of the bowl, lasting only a few seconds. The bowl quieted, all the water Hannah had shot into it was gone.

Hannah waited. Only the June beetles were making any noise.

Minutes passed.

Hannah scanned the sky, but saw nothing.

More minutes.

A sound invaded her ears, and she realized she had been hearing it without knowing it. The sound of distant thunder.

As the thunder grew in volume, the sun darkened as black clouds hurried across the sky.

The rain was coming.

Hang_Tough__Bastogne_1944_b-600x362

Red Rover

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The shelling had gone on for days. The Krauts would take a few hours off each night, but when the sun rose, we all heard the whump! whump! of the 88′s coming to life again. Seconds later, noise and fire erupted all around us and wouldn’t stop until well past sun-down.

We lost a lot of good guys in Bastonge. Jimmy, Mac, Sal, Johnny – too many, too soon. We lost a lot of the new guys too – Greens just out of boot who thought Normandy was a legend, and I suppose to them it was. We were the tough guys, the veterans. The Greens looked up to us, but we avoided them. We had learned what it was like to lose a buddy and we didn’t want anymore buddies.

If the shells and the bullets didn’t get you, the cold did. That’s what happened to Lieutenant Walker. He started a cough, worse then the rest of us, but it was when his feet turned black from frostbite that the medics shipped him back to Mourmelon. A Green was promoted to take his place – Lieutentant Jones. Jones looked to me like a school teacher, all thin, pointy nose and glasses. He never said much, just let us vets do what we did. Which was fine with us. We didn’t need an inexperienced officer who would probably run at the first sign of real trouble.

When the sun rose on the 23rd, we didn’t hear the 88′s start up. It was quiet. Looking out over the grazing field toward Foy, it was all fog and silence. We were uneasy.

Lt. Jones dropped into my foxhole, a question on his face.

“I don’t know, sir,” I whispered to him. “Might be they ran out of ammo?”

“Not likely,” the Lieutenant whispered back. “They’ve got a solid supply line into Foy.”

The silence continued for an hour. We were on edge, expecting an all out attack at any second.

What we got was a voice.

One of the Krauts, probably an officer, was shouting to us across the pasture. I didn’t know what he was saying, but he kept repeating the same thing.

“We have anyone who speaks German?” Jones asked.

“Yessir,” I pointed east. “Schwartz does.”

“Go get him.”

Just as I was about to climb out of the foxhole, Schwartz jumped in.

“Lieutenant, the German are asking for our surrender,” he said between gulps of air.

“Our surrender?”

“Yessir,” Schwartz wiped his mouth. “They say that if we approach slowly across the pasture, hands up, they will accept our defeat.”

Jones looked at Schwartz a moment before he began laughing. I couldn’t help thinking for a moment that this soft Green officer was just happy to get out of a foxhole.

“Sir?” I asked.

Jones’ laughter subsided to chuckles. “I was just reminded of Jeanette Soltz, Sergeant.”

“Sir?” I asked again.

“Jeanette used to be the caller when we played Red Rover when I was a kid,” he chuckled. “Little cheater, she was.”

Schwartz and I shared a look, wondering if Jones had lost it.

“What are we going to do, sir?” Schwartz asked.

Jones stopped chuckling and gave us a level stare. “I never trusted Jeanette Soltz.” The Lieutenant grinned. “Tell the boys to dig in.”

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Jester Queen gave me this prompt: My mind flashed to childhood games. I imagined Jeanette Soltz chanting “Red Rover, Red Rover, we dare Lilly over.”.

I gave lisa this prompt: You receive a package in the mail from your grandfather who died 12 years ago.