.
The dress is flimsy, some faded floral number from probably high school if he remembers correctly. She wears it when she’s alone or just with him. It’s shear in some places from wear. The blue looks white at a distance. There are two buttons on the back that were cannibalized from another, similar dress three years ago. He had to sew it because she forgot how well before they met.
She trots down to the waves as he struggles to keep up, saying something into the wind that he cannot hear. The sun is low above the water and their shadows seem to reach up the empty beach in back of them. He raises his camera and shoots. Clicks the button to review the last photo taken. Her profile, blocking entirely the sun as it sets, fills the frame. Dark and featureless. He frowns.
.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Detached, Submission 11 by Charlie Arnold
.
“Remember, heads you go tails I go” said Schmitt while holding back a smile.
“How long have you been waiting to use that one? What ever it was it was too soon. You’ll know it’s not too soon when you’re on the next mission that I’m not.” Cooper locked his helmet in place with one final twist.
“How can you blame me for trying? We both went through the training.”
“It’s all about background experience. What have you done that prepared you for what I’m doing? Money, de de do do do do, get away de de do do do do. Get a good job with good pay and you’re okay. de de do do do do. Doors have opened and I’m pulling out. Money, de de do do do do it’s a gas de de do do do do. Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash. We’ve got a blown fuse. A simple replace aught to do the trick. New car, caviar, four star daydream. Shit shit shit shit shit. I have separated from the craft. Repeat, the tether has become disconnected from the craft.”
“Houston. Waiting for the word on retrieval. Cooper has already moved past the shadow.”
.
“Remember, heads you go tails I go” said Schmitt while holding back a smile.
“How long have you been waiting to use that one? What ever it was it was too soon. You’ll know it’s not too soon when you’re on the next mission that I’m not.” Cooper locked his helmet in place with one final twist.
“How can you blame me for trying? We both went through the training.”
“It’s all about background experience. What have you done that prepared you for what I’m doing? Money, de de do do do do, get away de de do do do do. Get a good job with good pay and you’re okay. de de do do do do. Doors have opened and I’m pulling out. Money, de de do do do do it’s a gas de de do do do do. Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash. We’ve got a blown fuse. A simple replace aught to do the trick. New car, caviar, four star daydream. Shit shit shit shit shit. I have separated from the craft. Repeat, the tether has become disconnected from the craft.”
“Houston. Waiting for the word on retrieval. Cooper has already moved past the shadow.”
.
AVW Complaint, Submission 11 by Michelle Mathews
.
September 25, 2008
GOD, Human Resources Coordinator
Heaven
1806 Robert Fulton Drive
Reston, VA 20191
Dear GOD,
I am writing this letter as a formal complaint against the treatment I have been receiving from one of your fellow gods between the dates of July 1, 1985 to the present. At approximately 6:00 a.m. every day, Helios approaches my dwelling in an attempt to solve the issue of warming the Earth. After some debate as to when he should blaze a path across the sky, he very rudely and forcefully wakes me up prematurely. The tone and body language he uses displays an opinion of disgust and contempt towards my nocturnal habits. After several years of discussion about the dissatisfaction he has for my working area, he leaves. In the process he has bathed everything with an abrasive and intrusive light.
The intent of this letter is to inform you of my aggravation and sleep deprivation that occurs because of these incidents. He does approach me privately. He wakes and irritates me in front of approximately one of my housemates. Professionally, it has affected my morning job performance as well as low morning morale. Personally, it shattered any illusion of personal space as well as creating a strong dependence on a drug called caffeine.
I am not asking for an apology, nor would I believe its sincerity should I get one. All I ask is that should he have any further rude awakenings, he approach them with some degree of respect if not empathy to my nocturnal choice of lifestyle. I also ask that he take the complaints through the appropriate channels by requesting communication with my direct supervisor (Loki, God of Mischief) or myself in order to give us the chance to resolve things internally within my own bed.
Thank you for you attention to this matter,
Michelle Mathews
Common Human
.
September 25, 2008
GOD, Human Resources Coordinator
Heaven
1806 Robert Fulton Drive
Reston, VA 20191
Dear GOD,
I am writing this letter as a formal complaint against the treatment I have been receiving from one of your fellow gods between the dates of July 1, 1985 to the present. At approximately 6:00 a.m. every day, Helios approaches my dwelling in an attempt to solve the issue of warming the Earth. After some debate as to when he should blaze a path across the sky, he very rudely and forcefully wakes me up prematurely. The tone and body language he uses displays an opinion of disgust and contempt towards my nocturnal habits. After several years of discussion about the dissatisfaction he has for my working area, he leaves. In the process he has bathed everything with an abrasive and intrusive light.
The intent of this letter is to inform you of my aggravation and sleep deprivation that occurs because of these incidents. He does approach me privately. He wakes and irritates me in front of approximately one of my housemates. Professionally, it has affected my morning job performance as well as low morning morale. Personally, it shattered any illusion of personal space as well as creating a strong dependence on a drug called caffeine.
I am not asking for an apology, nor would I believe its sincerity should I get one. All I ask is that should he have any further rude awakenings, he approach them with some degree of respect if not empathy to my nocturnal choice of lifestyle. I also ask that he take the complaints through the appropriate channels by requesting communication with my direct supervisor (Loki, God of Mischief) or myself in order to give us the chance to resolve things internally within my own bed.
Thank you for you attention to this matter,
Michelle Mathews
Common Human
.
Denoument, Submission 11 by Lee Martin
.
The whole city was bathed in light; a soft yellow glow ebbed from the cracks of every stone, the corners of every street, the edge of every chin. Like the closing of a book the world had taken on an epic and final brilliance for one brief assertion of purpose that would never come home again.
He walked over the ancient cobblestone roads that intersected with fresh asphalt streets. Piles of dead angels stood like cold monuments. Some had already begun turning to stone, their light all but washed away.
Half heartedly he kicked over a gilded helmet that lay in the street.
The air felt like one great exhale, like the feeling of relief and resolution from crashing through the surface after holding your breath at the bottom of the deep end of the pool in the summer that melted tires and ice cream when all you ever wanted came out of the icy eyes of that girl with the golden hair from down the street.
He never expected it to end like this, but in a way, he was glad it did. He always liked surprise endings, and at least he hadn’t been bored.
It was the little things he noticed. The way the wind had decided not to blow ever again. The way clouds received their final resting place in the sky, after circling the world like a dog looking for a soft spot to sleep. The way he didn’t see anyone he knew.
Darker now. Every moment was darker than the last, but not as dark as the next. He could feel the cold beginning to flow our from the cracks now. He pulled his jacket tighter around his chest. His fists clenched, desperately holding on to the light that was determined to abandon, leave, finish.
Light crawled slowly over the bars of the gate to the park and left in small wisps. It felt warm when he pushed it open. It also felt a little sad, like the way your throat closes and your eyes freeze as you look at your dying grandma and desperately try to say with a half smile that it will be alright. The gate said its goodbye with a quite clink of metal on metal, the warmth walking away as he walked through.
That large tree that stood in the center of the park stood like a giant ember, the last of the warm places. He could almost hear the light as it dripped, slid, fell away on the many leaves. His back slid against the trunk and he felt the warmth spread through his chest as he sat. The cold succeeded the reign as he looked back toward the city.
His fists slowly fell to his side as he sat at the foot of the giant tree. One by one his fingers chose acceptance. Every fingertip briefly glowed.
It was fine.
.
The whole city was bathed in light; a soft yellow glow ebbed from the cracks of every stone, the corners of every street, the edge of every chin. Like the closing of a book the world had taken on an epic and final brilliance for one brief assertion of purpose that would never come home again.
He walked over the ancient cobblestone roads that intersected with fresh asphalt streets. Piles of dead angels stood like cold monuments. Some had already begun turning to stone, their light all but washed away.
Half heartedly he kicked over a gilded helmet that lay in the street.
The air felt like one great exhale, like the feeling of relief and resolution from crashing through the surface after holding your breath at the bottom of the deep end of the pool in the summer that melted tires and ice cream when all you ever wanted came out of the icy eyes of that girl with the golden hair from down the street.
He never expected it to end like this, but in a way, he was glad it did. He always liked surprise endings, and at least he hadn’t been bored.
It was the little things he noticed. The way the wind had decided not to blow ever again. The way clouds received their final resting place in the sky, after circling the world like a dog looking for a soft spot to sleep. The way he didn’t see anyone he knew.
Darker now. Every moment was darker than the last, but not as dark as the next. He could feel the cold beginning to flow our from the cracks now. He pulled his jacket tighter around his chest. His fists clenched, desperately holding on to the light that was determined to abandon, leave, finish.
Light crawled slowly over the bars of the gate to the park and left in small wisps. It felt warm when he pushed it open. It also felt a little sad, like the way your throat closes and your eyes freeze as you look at your dying grandma and desperately try to say with a half smile that it will be alright. The gate said its goodbye with a quite clink of metal on metal, the warmth walking away as he walked through.
That large tree that stood in the center of the park stood like a giant ember, the last of the warm places. He could almost hear the light as it dripped, slid, fell away on the many leaves. His back slid against the trunk and he felt the warmth spread through his chest as he sat. The cold succeeded the reign as he looked back toward the city.
His fists slowly fell to his side as he sat at the foot of the giant tree. One by one his fingers chose acceptance. Every fingertip briefly glowed.
It was fine.
.
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