Tuesday, 11. August 2009, 16:42:54
Tiny Tales
Everything moves slowly, oh so slowly, passes by or sits below me and
bends and waves at me slowly. Now the world above me glows faintly,
darkness turning to light. The darkness frightened me. There was nothing,
nothing except the feel of that which softly flows around me like silk
upon my skin, which flows around what passes by or sits below and bends
and waves with the flow.
It gets brighter above. I am glad the darkness is gone. The wire that
holds my ankle tugs, pulls me down. Then I rise a bit, pulled by the
silken flow, and again the wire tugs. I wish my ankle would be free of
it. I would like to move on, to flow with the silk, to wave goodbye,
goodbye to something, to that below and beside me. They are waving
goodbye to me, but I cannot leave, the wire holds tight.
A shadow moves above me. I think that the darkness has come again,
but it is not the darkness, it is a piece of darkness, a shadow. It goes
past me, turns a bit, and then it stops. Something falls. And another
thing falls. I see two blacknesses and from them each comes a ray of
light. The blacknesses move, the lights move. And suddenly I am hit by
a ray of light. And then another ray of light. The blacknesses move
toward me.
They are black and they wear masks and behind the masks are two eyes.
They turn the rays upon me, come closer. And closer. I am not afraid of
the blacknesses. They mean me no harm. They cover me with rays of
light. They come closer.
One of the blacknesses with eyes behind the mask has a shiny thing, it
is a hand with some shiny thing in it. And suddenly I tremble and I
want to scream. I feel another world upon me. You bitch, the voice
said. And the shiny thing came toward me, and then was pain, like a
fire in my stomach below my nightgown, I leaned forward and smelled the
whiskey, and he grabbed my neck and pushed the shiny thing in me again,
and again the fire. I tried to scream but I could only fall.
He carried me to the car and then there was darkness. And then dim light
and he carried me into a boat, a small green boat on a grey river. And
the boat carried us a ways.... And then he lifted me and I fell and hit
the dim silk, and I sank, and the silk carried me with it. And then I
felt a pull. A wire had grabbed my ankle.
The blackness with the eyes beneath the mask comes closer with the
shiny thing, and I am afraid I am afraid to feel the fire again beneath
my nightgown. But the blackness sinks and then I feel a touch upon my
ankle, a touch as soft as the silk around me. And then my ankle jerks
and the wire is gone, it no longer holds me.
I float up. The blacknesses with the eyes behind the masks float up
with me. Higher, and the light above me becomes brighter, and I am
happy to be free of the wire. I feel that which moves and bends and
waves below me say goodbye, and I say goodbye to them. I rise to the
light, moving faster, and am happy. I rise faster. Happy to at last
be rising.
(photo by Bernd Nies, www.nies.ch, modified)
Wednesday, 27. May 2009, 22:38:16
Tiny Tales
Stevens sat in the high-backed leather chair and folded his newspaper.
Placing it on the table beside him, he gently pulled his glass of aged
scotch and finished the last. He had just about decided that he really
should order another drink when he felt a hand pat the side of his
chair.
"Stevens" the man said, "good seeing you here. Would you mind terribly
if I joined you?"
"Of course not, Ingersol, please do" Stevens said, waving his hand at
the chair on the other side of the small table. There was something
about the younger man that always made Stevens feel old and, possibly,
feeble as well. With only 12 nuclear weapons, Ingersol was one of the
newer members of the club. With over 5000 deployable nuclear warheads
at his disposal, Stevens could barely remember the time when he only
had 12 to manage.
As if on cue a punctilious waiter, dressed in a crisp white shirt and
a red vest, arrived to see to their needs. Ingersol ordered a good
Kentucky bourbon, neat. Stevens took the opportunity to finally get
another scotch.
"So, how have things been?" Stevens asked, once they had the drinks
firmly in hand.
"Well, Stevens, thank you so much for asking. My neighbor has been
making some rude noises lately. I think I make him nervous."
"Most get used to it eventually" Stevens said, feeling that it was
somewhat his responsibility to help the younger man. "Only the members
of the club here can really understand the great responsibility we
bear. Few members though we may have."
Ingersol sighed. "Yes, I suppose that it the case" he said, looking down
at this bourbon.
Ingersol picked up the newspaper that Stevens had left on the table and
started going through it, rather half-heartedly. Stevens watched the
light from the high window of the room filter down onto an empty spot
on the floor, along its way illuminating the cigar and pipe smoke drifting
through the air. His mind wandered from this to that.
A man approached from across the room. He was dark and wore an
impeccably tailored Saville suit. His black beard looked as it had been
trimmed by a fleet of barbers it was so perfect. He nodded and sat down
on the chair opposite them.
Stevens nodded back at him. "Rashani. Good to see you again." He tried
to give him his best smile.
"You are very kind to remember me" Rashani said, looking very serious.
"Not at all" Stevens said. "We all know each other here, don't we?"
Rashani was the newest member of the club. He had only developed a
nuclear capability the previous year, and now managed 2 nuclear
warheads -- although there were some who thought that it might be as
many as 6 warheads by the end of the year.
Ingersol cleared his throat. "I am so sorry, Rashani, that I haven't
gotten the time to welcome you here."
Rashani seemed to smile, and nodded. "It must be difficult for you,
I know" he said. "This is a most exclusive club."
Ingersol placed his drink on the small table. "It is not so much that
we discourage new members" he told Rashani. "It is, rather, the fact
that we wonder if they will conform to the code of conduct of the club."
Rashani's smile faded. He stared at Ingersol intently. "Is there
something about my conduct that you object to, my friend?" he said to
him. "Do I not also have two hands and two feet? Is not my suit as
nicely cut as yours, my shoes as expertly polished?"
Stevens thought he should intervene. These young ones were so
headstrong. They hadn't the experience of the older members of the
club, who had through the decades learned to treat each other politely.
"Well I don't think that anyone would say that, specifically" Stevens
told Rashani. He gave Ingersol a stern look. "If you are offended,
Rashani, we apologize."
Rashani gave it some thought. His smile returned. "Thank you, Stevens.
But I still do feel quite the outsider here."
Stevens took a sip of his scotch. "That will pass" he said, tipping his
glass at him. "That will soon pass. And then, I think, you will want to
stay with us for the duration."
Ingersol excused himself, saying that it was time for lunch. Rashani
asked to borrow Stevens' newspaper and set to work reading. Stevens'
mind resumed its wandering to and fro. It was so quiet in the club that
often you could lose yourself as the sounds of the outside world faded
into silence.
Friday, 13. February 2009, 15:01:54
Tiny Tales
Jim looked down from the ledge. About fifty feet below he saw his dad
walking along the road. His dad looked very nice, dressed in slacks and
a sport coat.
"He can't find the car keys" Jim said to himself. He turned, thinking
that he might find a way down to his dad. The Park Ranger looked at him.
He looked at him as if expecting some answer to a question that Jim had
long forgotten.
Jim looked at the red rocks around him. They were bright red, but had
thin, lighter veins of a tan color running through them. He racked his
brain trying to remember the name of that particular type of rock.
Jim followed the Park Ranger to the camp grounds. Various people were
milling about. Jim knew that the Ranger was searching for some certain
girl. "She's just about ready to get off work" the Ranger said. They
headed back to a small building at the rear of the campground, where
the Ranger thought the girl might be found.
Turning around, Jim saw a tall, slow moving escalator. At the top of it
was the girl with one of her friends. She had short, curly blonde hair
and was wearing old jeans, and she leaned against the handrail of the
escalator. Across from her and slightly higher, her friend leaned into
the handrail also, more or less facing her. Her friend had black hair
and was also wearing jeans. Both looked unhappy. Jim could have sworn
that he knew the blonde haired girl, from somewhere, he didn't know
where.
Jim watched the two move down on the escalator for a moment. Then he
turned to ask the Ranger a question. But it seemed that the Forest Ranger
had taken off.
"What do I do now?" Jim asked himself. But no answer seemed to come to
him.
Jim looked down from the ledge. About fifty feet below he saw his dad
walking along the road. His dad looked very nice, dressed in slacks and
a sport coat.
Wednesday, 10. December 2008, 17:56:25
Tiny Tales
Bruce walked into a small tavern downtown and found a stool at the bar.
"What'll it be?" the bartender said to him, throwing down a coaster.
"I'll take a bottle of Kokanee" Bruce said. "Perhaps a beer or two will
help to get my mind off of the size of my enormous penis."
"Uh, okay..." the bartender said. A minute later he brought the beer and
set it in front of Bruce and walked off.
Bruce sipped the cold, dry beer and thought about his enormous penis.
No one could understand what a burden it had been his whole life. His
enormous penis was the first thing he thought about in the morning as
he got up to use the toilet. And it was the last thing he thought about
at night trying to get to sleep. All the day between, Bruce thought
about the size of his enormous penis.
A guy with a goatee sat down next to him and ordered a drink. "How's it
going, bro?" he said, smiling at Bruce.
"Ah, it would be going a lot better if it weren't for the size of this enormous
penis that I am cursed with!" Bruce said, slamming his fist down on the
bar.
The guy next to him smiled. "Well bro, I don't mean to brag, but I kinda
know what you are talking about."
"No, you don't!" Bruce shouted, slamming his fist down on the bar again.
"People say that they can understand, but they cannot not possibly
imagine the size of my enormous penis."
"I hate to say it, buddy, but your pants don't look that much bigger as most
peoples'" the guy with the goatee said. Then he moved to a stool further down
the bar and started talking with somebody else.
Bruce was on his second Kokanee when a man came into the bar. The man
looked around at the walls, then turned to Bruce.
"Excuse me, do you know what time it is?" he asked him.
Bruce reached into his pocket. But he had been so distracted thinking about
the size of his penis when he left the house that he had forgotten to put
his cell phone in his pocket.
"No, I don't!" Bruce told him. "I've been too busy thinking about the size
of my enormouse penis!" The guy moved down the bar and got the time from
the bartender.
Bruce sipped two more beers and thought about the size of his enormous
penis. Then he left a small tip and left. He walked down the street to the
bus stop and caught a bus back home. Years ago, he had quit driving
following multiple collisions. It was difficult to concentrate. Bruce would
be driving along, but would become distracted by the thought of his enormous
penis and, inevitably, crash into something or someone. Finally, he gave up
driving entirely. These days he took the bus. The worst that could happen
on the bus was that he would be thinking about the size of his enormous penis
and end up getting off at a stop a block or two past where he should have.
Luckily, when much younger, he developed a talent for computer programming
and was now able to work at home designing components for video games.
At home, the distraction of his humongous penis posed less of a problem than
when he worked in public at a more regular job.
Bruce looked out the bus window. Off in the west the sun was setting,
creating an incredible array of oranges and reds on the edge of the
horizon.
It would have been a beautiful sunset. Were it not for the size of his
enormous penis.
Monday, 19. May 2008, 21:01:04
Tiny Tales
"Bring them in, Evgeny" the decrepit old man said from the low platform
of his wheelchair. "Show me what you have brought this time."
The servant motioned to two guards by the door. They turned and opened
it. Two other guards came through, dragging a man and a woman into the
secret, underground laboratory located in a salt mine in Utah. The man's
and woman's hands were tied. There was the look of panic about their eyes.
"Ah, this might be more acceptable" the ancient scientist said. "The last
ones you brought were useless! But that one there, that is a definite
possibility. I need the new body soon. This old shell can't last much
longer. I need to transplant my consciousness into a brand new form!"
The old man, Gravilian, looked the pair over. The man they had brought
was not youthful, middle aged but in apparent good health. He was ruggedly
good looking. The evil madman then turned to look at the woman. She was
almost thirty perhaps, dark brunette, and very beautiful. Gravilian looked
her body over closely. She was petite and buxom, with delicate pale ankles.
"Put the woman on the exchange process table!" he ordered.
"No!" her partner said, struggling unsuccessfully to free himself from
the grip of the guards. "Whatever madness you are up to, you pathetic
old loon, use me! Use me!"
Gravilian waved his hand at him. "I have no use for your body" he said.
"Except, perhaps, as food for Evgeny here. I will do as I wish." He
repeated his order to the guards, and a minute later the woman was
fastened to the table by her ankles and wrists.
The scientist approached the woman closer in his wheel chair. At her
feet, he reached up and touched the woman's stylish white pumps almost
lovingly.
"What size shoe do you wear, my dear?" he said to her. The woman, wide
eyed, merely began to sob. "I said what size shoe do you wear!" he yelled.
"I...I wear a size six!" she said, somehow frightened more than ever.
"Good!" Gravilian laughed. "Very good! Because I would hate to have to
replace my entire closet full of high-heels!"
Monday, 12. November 2007, 07:31:13
Tiny Tales
Madame Charpentier saw her husband come into their home about six. But
instead of coming to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek as he usually
did when he came in, he seemed to disappear. She eventually found him in
the library, sitting in his favorite chair, reading.
"I was wondering where you were" she told him. "Dinner will be ready
soon."
Jean Charpentier looked up from his book as if irritated. "I am not not
hungry. I will skip dinner." He returned to his reading. His wife tried
her best to convince him to come to dinner, but she was met with silence.
After a minute she gave up and left him to his book.
Over the next week she saw her husband less and less. He would come back
from his office and go directly into the library. He took to ordering in small
meals there, and began sleeping on the couch there, too -- something that
for some reason frightened Madame Charpentier.
"Jean, you must snap out of this" she said to him one evening. He rose
from his chair, furious. "Can't you see I am trying to read my book!" he
screamed. Then he grabbed her by the arm and took her to the door and
pushed her through it. The door slammed behind her.
Marie was concerned, but didn't know what to do. Two nights later she
decided to return to the library and try to convince her husband to come
back to their bed and to his normal life. But the door to the library was
locked. She knocked, and then pounded and pleaded at the door. But no
answer came from within. "I must go get the police" she said to herself.
"Perhaps something has happened to him."
She put on her hat and coat and left their apartments, and after a few
blocks found a local policeman and told him of her concerns. "Let's go
see" he told her. When they got to the library door the policeman tried
the handle and then spent a few minutes calling out to Charpentier. "I
can break the door down, if you want" he told Marie.
Marie nodded. The policeman walked back a few feet and then threw his
considerable weight at the door. There was the cracking of wood, and the
door flew open. The policeman and Madame Charpentier went into the room.
They found Jean in his reading chair, his face frozen into a mask, eyes
wide and staring out into the void. Madame Charpentier cried out. The
policeman walked up to Jean and, putting his palm on Jean's neck for a
few seconds, looked back at Marie and shook his head sadly. "I will have
to go get the coroner, Madame" he said. "In a case like this..."
The policeman left. Marie walked slowly up to her husband, and with great
tenderness and with tears touched the sleeve of his jacket. That is when
she noticed the book in his hand, one finger in the pages as if marking his
place. Curious, she gently pulled the book away. She began paging through
the book. She turned the pages faster and faster, and as she did a coldness
ran through her body and she began to tremble. Then she screamed, and let
the book fall to the floor.
The pages of the book, the book that had obsessed her husband for over
a week, were all blank.
Tuesday, 17. April 2007, 09:44:15
Tiny Tales, Robespierre
Robespierre looked out the window to the street three floors below.
Citizens from all over Paris were even at that relatively early hour
walking towards the Place de la Revolution in anticipation of the mid-day
executions. Robespierre's headache returned like a bolt of lightening
to a rod. He rubbed his temples and the bridge of his nose.
He went over to his armoire and pulled the two heavy doors open. He
crouched down and opened a drawer at the bottom, lifted a clean shirt
and from under it took his doll. Over at his small bed he put the doll
on his knees and held it gingerly. The doll was eight inches high,
female, dressed in fine cloth. The costume she wore was of the old sort,
like the traitorous queen used to wear, a white long dress with lace at
the bodice and the hem. The doll's blonde hair was in the old-fashioned
style also, pulled high up and pinned in back. Her body was of the
finest porcelain, and her eyes and lips and fingernails were delicately
painted. Robespierre ran the tip of his finger along the edge of the
bodice, gently bounced the doll up and down on his knees and, as he
always did when he played with his doll, began to laugh. After a while,
his headache disappeared.
A sudden knock on the door made him leap off the bed. "Just a second!"
he cried, in a voice that was about an octave too high for him. He ran
to the armoire and returned the doll to its hiding place.
"Pardon me, citizen" the young man at the door said when he opened it.
"But the Committee needs you immediately. They are arguing again. It
seems that no one can remember which death warrants should be signed."
"Let me get my things" Robespierre answered. He put on his coat and hat
and grabbed his satchel. "Fine, let us go then" he said. He took one last
brief glance back at the armoire, then pulled the door closed behind him.
Tuesday, 27. March 2007, 19:57:31
Albert Einstein, Tiny Tales
Albert Einstein walked out of the Bern Patent Office at exactly one
minute after three. He walked across the street and down a way until he
got to a wide ribbon of grass facing off the hill. The ribbon was lined
with benches and, as he did every day at that time, he pulled out his
lunch from his pocket and sat down to eat. He untied the string and
unwrapped the paper and pulled out the cheese sandwich he had made
before he left for work.
Einstein nibbled at the sandwich. It was winter, and at that time of the
afternoon the sun was already low in the sky. He watched the sun closely.
There was always something about watching the sun go down that brought
back the memory of his theory -- the theory that had occurred to him
one fine spring day twenty years ago but then, like a cloud over the sun,
had just as quickly disappeared from his mind.
"It was something to do with light" Einstein said to himself for the
thousandth time. "I remember that much. A light bulb, maybe? Or perhaps
a flashlight. And there seemed to be something in it to do with the
letter "E" -- I know there was an "E" that figured into it somehow."
Einstein took the last bite of his sandwich. "Or maybe I'm just thinking
of the initial of my last name. Yes, that most likely is it" he said sadly.
He put the string and paper back into his pocket, once again depressed
at the futility of it all, and went back to the Patent Office.
WIDGETIZE