August 26, 2011 in D
The open road winds wearily, snaking off to the drone of the engine hum.
Chewing gum to pass the time.
August 12, 2010 in L
May 17, 2010 in H
He was born to run the 400 metre hurdles.
His muscles were perfectly conditioned to provide him with explosive sprinting capabilities and a powerful leap.
His cardio-vascular system was immaculately tuned to enable 400 metres of lightning fast running and jumping.
Even his face was aerodynamically shaped to slice through the air like a hot knife through butter.
He was essentially the ultimate 400 metre hurdles machine.
Unfortunately he had never had cause to run the 400 metre hurdles. He’d never really been interested in athletics, preferring instead to focus on team sports. He had played cricket when he was younger, showing only average skill as a batsmen and slightly above average skill as a bowler of medium pace. As he matured he left cricket behind to focus on his music career. He kept fit by swimming laps and going to the gym. He played basketball on Wednesday nights in a social league. Last season his team finished sixth.
March 1, 2010 in S
Fixing the Warp Antenna had been simple enough. Would have been child’s play if she’d had the appropriate tools but she’d had to make do with the Wire Cutters and a roll of Vacuum Tape. She came back in through the airlock and stood in the Hangar Bay, her breath providing the only soundtrack within her Suit.
“Reggie, the Antenna is as good as its gonna get. Punch us the hell out of here”
“With pleasure…..oh and Proctor?”
“Next time you need a pilot for one of your ‘quick little missions, in and out no problems’. I’m busy.”
She couldn’t help but smile. She heard the Warp Field powering up and knew that in roughly 4 minutes she would be blasting out of this God-forsaken Quadrant at an astronomical speed.
Then she saw it.
A flicker in the shadow.
Followed by a low growl.
She backed up slowly and pressed herself hard against the wall
It must have got on board when they were loading the Science Cargo, back before the Unholy Shit
Storm had decimated her crew.
It had been waiting this whole time.
So patient, but for what?
And then it struck her.
Stone cold realisation.
It was hungry, but not for flesh. They had never been hungry for flesh. All those deaths had been incidental.
It was hungry for Horillium.
It was going for the Warp Drive.
“Reggie! Seal the Hangar Bay”
“DO IT NOW!”
Reggie slammed down on the button and heard the familiar warning tone that indicated the Hangar Bay was in Lock Down. He swung around to check his VisCom Monitor.
“Sweet Jesus” he whispered, staring in disbelief at the image on the screen.
He could see Proctor cornered at the far end of the Hangar Bay, with one of ‘them’ turning to face her.
She was still in her Suit so she lacked mobility.
She had no weapons.
The creature looked mighty pissed.
And Reggie had just locked them in together.
Proctor stared at the Beast.
It was coming towards her with what seemed like an arrogant swagger.
Only a few seconds left.
She knew she only had one option.
She just didn’t like it.
But when she thought of the alternative it was clear she had no choice.
She reached down and pulled the lever that would manually blow the Air Lock.
Reggie watched in horror as Proctor, the Beast, and everything that wasn’t nailed down were suddenly and ferociously sucked out into Space.
February 26, 2010 in U
A broken moment?
An opportunity glistens then evaporates.
Perfect words had formed to frame the frozen fragment.
But left unsaid, they drifted.
Lost in the ebb.
Her face, once porcelain perfect, showed cracks of contempt.
She continued to chip as his silence solidified.
Weighing them down as they waited.
Wishing that it didn’t have to build to such well-crafted deconstruction.
He floated briefly above them.
Watching the last gasp of his last grasp.
He was so close to holding on.
He dared to hope on the slippery slope.
But this moment was as broken as they were.
January 22, 2010 in T
The air crackles with a palpable tension. She feels like she could conceivably clasp the tension and fashion it into a shape. Her thoughts meander loosely to the many shapes she was capable of crafting. Always so fond of the octagon. She could make a herd of eight sided shapes. Line them up. Her very own flocktagon. Flock. Funny word that. She turns it over and over in her mind like a linguistic pancake. How she loved pancakes. Though she actually only loved the first three. Then she merely liked the fourth and fifth. She usually regretted the sixth and rarely if ever went to the seventh. Though seven was her lucky number. She had seven fish. She tried to name them after the Dwarves but had got all her stories confused, resulting in Happy, Bashful, Frodo, Dopey, Sinbad, Hawkeye and Hotlips. Was it going to be hot today? It had felt more tropical of late. Tropical fruit juice always disappointed her. The name promised so much and never delivered. Should she change her name? Bernadette was nice enough but did it suit her? She secretly thought of herself as more of a Francene. Paris was the capital of France. Plaster of Paris. Plaster Cast. Casting aspersions. She goes to the dictionary and looks up ‘Aspersions’. She’d bought that Dictionary at a garage sale last July. The inscription in the front cover read “Dear Llewellyn, Get a Word up Ya, love Jules and Michelle”
January 20, 2010 in P
15 feet. Maybe more. There were at least 8 of ‘them’ surrounding the ship, their slimy claws dripping with blood. She could see the bodies of Stewart and Hoops. Another half-eaten carcass may have been Ego but she couldn’t tell. They were maintaining a perimeter around the ship so the Shield was still functioning. She tried her comm, hoping that Reggie was still on-board.
“This is Proctor, anyone copy?”
Then a voice came through.
“Proctor, this is Reggie….Shit, i thought you were dead”
“I will be if I don’t get back on the ship, its only a matter of time before they pick up my scent”
She knew he wouldn’t be able to Beam her on board while the Shield was up. Even if he dropped the Shield, the energy levels on the ship must be dangerously low. 15 feet was too far.
“Reggie…here’s the plan… I run at them..”
“LISTEN!… I run at them. When they come at me, drop the Shield and Beam me in”
“I don’t have much juice so you’ll need to get close”
“As close as you can”
She figured she could get 6 feet before they noticed her, maybe another 2 feet before they attacked. Any more than that was gravy.
She waited until most of them seemed to be feeding and launched herself into the open. Eyes focused, arms pumping. Made good time across the open ground. Possibly 7 feet before, en mass, their heads jolted in her direction. Their powerful legs propelled them towards her.
She wasn’t close enough.
She jagged to the right and headed towards the slower members of the pack. Bought herself half a foot.
Then she jumped.
Straight at one.
Caught it by surprise and hit it full in the chest. But it recovered lightning quick, drew back its gruesome claws and plunged it deep into her chest…
Only to find she was no longer there.
“Jesus Christ!” she gasped, staring at Reggie.
“Welcome aboard Proctor” he said with a smile.
“See, it was a good plan”
“Now we just need another one to get us off this rock.”
And as he spoke, they could see that the creatures had turned their attention back to the ship. And it would be 3 more minutes before the Shield could power up.
She searched in her pocket and found what she was looking for. Her last mint.
She popped it in her mouth and chewed.
“Shut up and let me think”
January 19, 2010 in M
There are moments. Sweet moments. Unexpected. Unpredictable.
They wash over me like a welcome wave of contentment.
Wooden Spoon in hand, garlic and onion gently frying. A symphony on the radio.
I catch a glimpse into another room.
A family passing the time. Nothing special. Everyday things.
But the picture seems whole.
I could watch for hours.
Sitting on the comfortable chair. Green Tea brewed. A sea of green on the television.
The bowler charges in to launch the first ball of the summer.
And the chair seems to get a little more comfortable.
Cool enough for the Doona.
Lost in the arms of a familiar and ferocious love.
Slipping into sleep in tandem. Venturing into one another’s dreams.
January 16, 2010 in I
January 13, 2010 in G
January 11, 2010 in B
January 8, 2010 in C
10 seconds since he’d thought about her.
9 empty bottles beside him.
8 different ways she used to laugh.
7 years they’d been together.
6 weeks since she’d left him
5 days since he’d seen her.
4 times he’d betrayed her
3 times she’d forgiven him.
2 late to change things.
1 man alone at midnight.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
January 7, 2010 in F