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Sore LoserIt is November of 1998.
My reward for being a year ahead in school is being the only one in my class without a car. I never had a moped, either -- I ended up with the sort of trike that meter maids use. It's slow, but it carries things and would have made me some money if I was any good at money. It also assuages my mother's fears about my safety, which for some reason her becoming aware that I had to do surgery on myself a couple of time didn't do. Unfortunately, it's the exact model of trike that garbage collectors use.
I used to be mocked about it a lot. I don't get mocked about that any more. Luca is still relearning how to write.
It's Monday afternoon. We have afternoon classes today -- normally school is Monday thru Saturday, 8am to 1pm, but this is a Chatolic school and the extra hour of theology and latin have to go somewhere. Well, actually I have drafting in the afternoon, but that's how it goes. The bottom line is that we have an hour for lunch.
Normally anyone under 18, so
dancers in the darkdancers in the dark.
hello, points of light! There's a green one, and there's a red one to its right. If it's following standards, it's someone facing me. The white and yellow lights on the ground are just enough to let me see clouds as more than the absence of stars. The two lights are coming a little apart, and becoming brighter. They tilt a little in greeting, and I do that too. I bet there's propellers buzzing above them; I don't have ears right now, flight wants light and I've left most things at home. I tilt forward and come a little closer. Hello, points of light that are another quadcopter chassis! The movement earlier was hesitant enough to tell me that there's someone in it. I wonder if they have meat at home with goggles on? Looks like we both left our radios home. A whitish-blue light that I know to be infrared comes on, chirping at me. I turn my own nav lights on and off twice in acknowledgement. It's a tone, then another tone, pulse width for opening doors and the l
The Photon KnightIn A.R. 2101, war was beginning.
The stalwart rule of the Spiral Emperor over the Galaxy
is challenged by the Irredentist Army of the deranged Stra-Kuhl.
With a direct confrontation imminent, the elite Photon Knights are dispatched to raid
the Dark Lord's newest installation so as to discern, if not to foil, his undoubtedly dastardly plan...
The base's steel superstructure was twanging with the echoes of battle.
"Stop, foul fiend!" the Photon Knight called out to the Dark Lord as the taller, caped figure began to turn tail and run.
Karen looked down from the catwalk to witness the magnificent, white-clad muscular man gallantly spare one of the underlings after disarming him with a dashing movement. On the other side of the hallway, the flourish of a dark cape and tzing of a sword being drawn let her know beyond any myopia-induced doubt that had accepted the challenge.
"Impudent fool! Thinkest thou hath me cornered?" Stra-Kuhl's deep ominous voice retorted tauntingly.
The IncidentThe Incident
Those things were loud; loud and big. They were hard to start and, in some cases, almost impossible to stop. And if they didn't when they were supposed to, people got hurt and killed...
Livio's parents had had a hard time making him finish high school; it was eventually his driving instructor that made a good case of it, pointing out that these days one needed a diploma of some sort even to work as a truck driver. The wiry boy nodded, winced, barely said a word and got his GED fifteen days later, then finished the year anyway so that his folks could go home with pictures of his graduation.
Two years later, he'd been from Portugal to Russia, seen more life than most of his acquaintances who went to college ever would, and learned the rudiments of five languages and the common insults of ten. He lived in his truck seven days a week, living on canned food and moving whatever he had to for anyone who would hire him -- always people, his father's experience having warned him aw
Change Over Time"Change over Time"
Time: Some time after the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Place: The Rocky Mountains, North America.
"Look, as much as I agree that this is worth trying, I don't think that one experiment will settle this, either way", one of the learned men told me with what I reckoned was a sigh sigh at the end of what, in normal conversation, could have been a short speech.
After two hours of conversation -- half of which admittedly went over my head -- it was the only thing the two professors agreed upon. The Chairman of the Institute for Creation Research and the head of the National Center for Science Education had agreed to this meeting only by phone, whereas I was hoping that at least one would show up in person neither had time for a simultaneous appearance, and neither wanted to risk the other's personal presence swaying me, even though this project might never start off. It was my turn to make my final sales pitch to both of them.
"I keep telling you; there are
I Belong To You I hate rain. Not really, I love it. Just not when the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, perfect, comfortable, waterproof, perfect coat in existence has been savagely butchered by my so-called friend’s Dalmatian. Every slap of rain on my naked arms is a stinging reminder of the irreparable hole in my wardrobe.
Some people might try to fill the void with lesser coats but I can’t bring myself to betray Valentino, even after her death. Instead my slippery arms grapple with each other in wet shock as I stumble to the op shop, clinging to one last thread of hope. I know in my deadened heart that I’ll never have another coat like her. Yet here I am, blundering through the elements in my vain search for the acceptance and warmth I found wrapped in Valentino’s woollen sleeves.
Thud. My body slams into the door, making the ‘open’ sign quiver and the bells tinkle in offense. I fight for entry, the door’s assault doubled by the stale funk of
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More