Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Short work - recycled once more, hurrah!
Yes, I'm sure most of you have seen this already somewhere. I don't care. I'm tired of seeing three posts on the main page, so I'm posting most relevent work on here in an attempt to build up an archive base of some sort. Enjoy.
--
Green lights flew. The man had arrived here five months ago and hadn't left since. He simply sat.
The other crowd, those around the open terminals who drank their guava-chai-doubleshot-martini-lattes and chattered to each other and came and went as they pleased, took notice of him only at first. Now he was a fixture of the place, and had become as completely unnoticed as the flashing garish and pastel lights outside the nonexistent windows.
For he had become permanently - literally - fixated to the place.
He lived in a glass box, about the size of a cheap apartment on the west side, that was placed in the corner by the door. He rarely left his own terminal. He had no choice - he was hooked up to it.
He used the outdated drives for unknown reasons, the ones no one would dream of making anymore. The cold, concrete floor of the box was dusted with various ancient components, wires, pipes, dirt and grease. Like himself.
None of the cyb-yuppie patrons cared, of course. He was invisible now. And no one saw what he was fiddling with at the moment - a slightly rusting modem card, bits of green label still intact. He liked it because it had his name on it in strange symbols - Cefo. Cefo clutched it to his chest; he had found identity.
Identity.
Another of the wires attached to his temple snapped. Green sparks flew into the glass.
--
Dun dun dun. Melodrama, how fun!
--
Green lights flew. The man had arrived here five months ago and hadn't left since. He simply sat.
The other crowd, those around the open terminals who drank their guava-chai-doubleshot-martini-lattes and chattered to each other and came and went as they pleased, took notice of him only at first. Now he was a fixture of the place, and had become as completely unnoticed as the flashing garish and pastel lights outside the nonexistent windows.
For he had become permanently - literally - fixated to the place.
He lived in a glass box, about the size of a cheap apartment on the west side, that was placed in the corner by the door. He rarely left his own terminal. He had no choice - he was hooked up to it.
He used the outdated drives for unknown reasons, the ones no one would dream of making anymore. The cold, concrete floor of the box was dusted with various ancient components, wires, pipes, dirt and grease. Like himself.
None of the cyb-yuppie patrons cared, of course. He was invisible now. And no one saw what he was fiddling with at the moment - a slightly rusting modem card, bits of green label still intact. He liked it because it had his name on it in strange symbols - Cefo. Cefo clutched it to his chest; he had found identity.
Identity.
Another of the wires attached to his temple snapped. Green sparks flew into the glass.
--
Dun dun dun. Melodrama, how fun!
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
John Dies at the End
(Or, Sheer Boredom Takes Over.)
Okay, now I'm just going to post whatever I can think of in an attempt to stave off death. This blog's death. For without sustenence, IT WILL SHRIVEL AWAY AND DIE, PEOPLE. Gah.
After this, methinks I'll post random pieces of the sci-fi-ish stuff I wrote while at Kenyon. That is, if I haven't conked out from NyQuil by then...
"John Dies at the End" is a madhouse caper of a horror/supernatural story, with elements of Lovecraft, Douglas Adams, X-files, surrealism, and god-knows-what-else. Although it's booklike in length, and partially in form, it's actually a completed serial started (and still found for free) online. An edited version can now be perchased in print through the website; however, the free online version seems to still be the most popular (I wonder why...). By David Wong.
Check it out: John Dies at the End
Okay, now I'm just going to post whatever I can think of in an attempt to stave off death. This blog's death. For without sustenence, IT WILL SHRIVEL AWAY AND DIE, PEOPLE. Gah.
After this, methinks I'll post random pieces of the sci-fi-ish stuff I wrote while at Kenyon. That is, if I haven't conked out from NyQuil by then...
"John Dies at the End" is a madhouse caper of a horror/supernatural story, with elements of Lovecraft, Douglas Adams, X-files, surrealism, and god-knows-what-else. Although it's booklike in length, and partially in form, it's actually a completed serial started (and still found for free) online. An edited version can now be perchased in print through the website; however, the free online version seems to still be the most popular (I wonder why...). By David Wong.
Check it out: John Dies at the End
Creation -> Inspiration?
Yes, I have returned from the land of the Rouss! I shall now attempt to light a match under the seat of this pitiful excuse for a party (how's that for a mixed metaphor?). Seriously, now, what would you all do without me? Tsk, tsk.
Here's your mission, should you choose to accept it...
Choose one of the following of my doodles (no worries, kids, lots to choose from). Use it as a springboard for a sci-fi/fantasy story. Post the results here. No length requirement, but must mention in post which picture was used.
Results due by midnight, September 1st! (Night of 31st, morning of 1st.)
And now, here are the pictures... *drumroll*
--
(Numbers 1-3, respectively)
(4-6)
(7-9)
(10-12)
(13-15)
--
And...go!
- L. W.
Here's your mission, should you choose to accept it...
Choose one of the following of my doodles (no worries, kids, lots to choose from). Use it as a springboard for a sci-fi/fantasy story. Post the results here. No length requirement, but must mention in post which picture was used.
Results due by midnight, September 1st! (Night of 31st, morning of 1st.)
And now, here are the pictures... *drumroll*
--
--
And...go!
- L. W.
Contributors
About Me
- Name: literaghost
- Location: Kentucky, United States
I'm a tumultuous culture-nerd with too much and too little time on my hands. I'm proud of my moxie and frustrated when forms won't render HTML. I like things that make my brain hurt, lots of freedom, and coffee in anything but the actual hot drink. I can't stand totalitarianism/dogma, Daniel Defoe, or excruciatingly long lists of statistics. I'm an activist, a devil's advocate, and a shameless heathen glamorpuss. (I'm also fond of playing with syntax, parallel sentence structures, and groups of threes, in case you couldn't tell.) I share a mindset, and a birthday, with Thomas Paine. I'm a rebel with a cause, and a redstocking without a card. Off-blogger, you can find me on BookMooch, LibraryThing, Flickr, and deviantART.