Thursday, September 19, 2013

Sept 7th Exercise of the Georgia Nutts Guild. Read Georgia

Sept 7th Exercise: 100 to 200 fiction story about something you saw or experienced in the past weeks

Whole Again by Yvonne Walker

The shadows creep in through the darkness.
People crowd in coveting my light.
They press in as the shadows swallow them.
My light dims and I am surrounded.
Their pain, their angst, their negativity increases.
The shadows feed off of the collected sorrow. 
They press in on me trying to escape the night.
My knees begin to buckle from the weight of them, greedily reaching for my light. 
I cry out in pain as they pick, prod and poke, looking for my weakness, using masks of good intentions to cover their crime.
Tiny tears turn into gaping wounds as they suck the energy from me.
I turn inwards towards the little light I have left feeling the darkness engulf me.
The shadows tighten their hold on me pulling, tearing and ripping at my remaining light.
The music begins and I hear Him. His words soft and soothing drift over the chaos to surround me.
The weight begins to lift as His light illuminates the darkness chasing away the shadows with their masks of good intentions.
I am broken and weakened until His touch fills me, heals my wounds and restores my light.
I am whole again!

On the Lake by MeMe Bem

“Thanks for today. I know I was a brat, but I am glad you are here,” Sadie chewed her lower lip and played with Jeremy’s collar, stealing a glance at his face after her comment. Jeremy waited to catch her eyes before replying.
“Yeah, you were a little brat,” he said, a hint of a smile playing around his lips and eyes. Sadie punched his arms, but he did not budge or show any sign of discomfort. “Careful. I might retaliate.”
“I am not scared of you,” Sadie looked him directly in the eyes as if daring him.
“Scared isn’t what you should be.”
“You wouldn’t even think of doing anything right here,” Sadie’s tone was matter of fact. “There are two men over there cleaning their fish.”
“They wouldn’t stop me. Don’t tempt me,” Jeremy added in a warning tone at Sadie’s raised eye browse.
“Even if you don’t care what they think about you, what about how I feel about what they think of me?” Sadie’s voice was soft but ripe with meaning.
The gentle current swayed the boat. Neither spoke, as both glanced to shore at the fishermen cleaning their morning catch. Sadie sighed her regret.

Wonderland by DAP Tales

Plaid wasn’t a fabric that Monica thought would complement her square face, but here she was, admiring a reflection she never thought would be flattering. With each turn and angle of her head, a new outfit from her wardrobe would pop into her mind.

“I just don’t know…” She muttered, as she adjusted, then re-adjusted the brim of the yellow, plaid, tribly hat.

Wonderland was going out of business. Seven years they existed at the cusp of Little Five Points and Monica never felt called to the place. Today… finally, they had something in their window that she just couldn’t find anywhere else.
After removing the hat, Monica peered down at the tag; twenty-five dollars.

“And it’s half off... hum, I just don’t know…” Consulting her other purchases, she decided to think it over.

“What time do you close?” She asked the pensive clerk.


Monica kept thinking all the way over to the Ethiopian coffee shop across the street. She thought through her latte and her turkey sandwich and after it all, the hat was all she wanted. In a mad dash, she crossed the street, only to find the door jammed. No… not jammed… closed.

Genome Soap by Al Falaq

Multifarious, multidisciplinary genius Timothy Buchenwald was plowing the aquamarine surf off California’s northern coast as his mad dream of 'Purifying the earth with Genome Soap' crawled towards life in the lab.  In eighteen months at the complex I had seen my share of nutty, even horrifying things but nothing had yet convinced me that genome soap was going to make the world any better.

Marie was probably the luckiest; she only sprouted fairy wings and became ghastly pale, but ensuing chronic depression had urged her to become a hermit in one of the sprawling forested areas at the southern end of the compound.  I stood now, regarding some of the more recent, but less fortunate of the test subjects.  Three glass domes each housed a sort of humanoid lizard attached to a giant sperm; a snail with another snail growing out its backside and probably least lucky of all, a rabbit like thing that had only been allowed to survive by the annex of various light bulbs to its body in place of several of its limbs.  I was made less inclined to try and figure that one out because of my nagging need to puke.  I sub-grouped the three containers on the digital interface so the gas valves could purge them all at once, paused.  The poor bastards would have to go, just like all the others.  I looked at the sorry ass bunny thing, none of its light bulbs glowing even the least bit.  I had come to work today just like every day, and I would go home the same again tonight.  Timothy Buchenwald was churning the surf with his Sea-Doo somewhere in the pacific waters.  The bunny thing chittered at me, seemingly knowing what was about to happen.  “God-Damned Genome Soap”, I muttered.  I activated the gas purge and looked towards the time clock.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

GNG exercise 8/10/13 Read Georgia

At our GNG meeting on 8-10-2013, the GNGs wrote 100-200 words that must contain some of all of the words listed:
Alpha, Annotate, Atoms, Aardvark, Acrylics, Activists, Activity, Atrocity, Acoustic, Acquate, Amuse and Acquired.

One day as I was walking down Alpha Street, I came across an activity that caused many people to be amused.    My curiosity peaked as other people joined and I became swept up with them. When I found a place to stand next to a curious little boy I became amused as well by what the acoustic guitar playing activist standing next to an acrylic covered aardvark.  He said:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to acquaint you with the aardvark! He is atrocity that the acrylics industry has performed. They annotate atoms to make your life better but our poor friend the aardvark suffers.  To combat this atrocity against the acrylic covered aardvark a dollar each to save him.”
Everyone in the crowd began to reach in their pockets and purses to produce their dollar.  When the little boy next to me spoke up:
“Hey Mister, I gave that acrylic covered aardvark for 10 cents. Why would I give you a dollar and you won’t give it back?”
Gasps and angry voices filled the air and the crowd dispersed. They moved along shaking their heads leaving the acoustic guitar playing activist holding his acrylic covered aardvark he had acquired for 10 cents.

I am the Alpha by alFalaq

"I am the Alpha," declared God, standing inside a blackness of depth unknown, even to Him.  His existence was naught more than a spiraling dream, a tendril of fate arcing out endlessly through the void.  Within His lucid delirium He acquired the place and parcel of all the atoms that were or could be, each by name etched in his vision.  His own sigh, released nonchalantly, pushed the mass of the Cosmos, even until its very limits, carrying out through every vibrant string of activity the fullness of His dream.  Dust swirled; stars were born, lived, loved, birthed other stars by the billions.  Worlds formed, spun, evolved life, exploded into war or collapsed into atrophy.  An aardvark, somewhere in some deserted region of Nevada, raided an ant colony, devouring the tiny denizens by the thousands, walked half a mile, shitted, then napped before doing it all again.  Infinitely aware of every iota of activity, God annotated the deaths of worlds and ants alike.  Amused, He pondered, "I am the Aardvark."  He closed His eyes, imagined endless blackness and breathed in, that He might now sigh anew.

They were a group of activists, who wanted to change the world.  When they brought about their imaginings for this new world,they created an atrocity.  Society as they knew it melted, and their hopes created anarchy instead of the meritocracy they truly wished for.  These activists soon realized they were simply pawns in a much bigger plot for others to come in and finally dominate the world’s resources and economic reserves.  However, their new masters spared mercy and kindness to the ones who swept them into power, and were provided comforts beyond their wildest imagination for their services to their masters. 

Alpha and Muse by DAP Tales

Alpha’s fingers stroked the flexible spine under the mud-brown fur of Muse, his pet aardvark. It was a gentle action that ran parallel to each of his thoughts. Muse purred as well as any cat and the reverberation knocked against his ribcage creating a hollow acoustic that made Alpha’s fingers pause. Alpha looked up from Muse’s fluted nose to the empty canvas in front of them. He exhaled a sigh as his eyes focused on a six-color pallet of acrylic paints to the left of his canvas and, once again, to the right of the naked canvas.
Muse shifted in his person’s arms. Alpha looked at him, then back at the acrylics and finally, back at the canvas. Muse, canvas, acrylics. Muse, canvas, acrylics. Pause. Muse, the aardvark looked up at his person with foreboding. Before he could change his mind, Alpha rolled his pet into puddles of paint and smudged the creature onto the canvas. Visually vibrating from the shock of his personal atrocity, Muse scampered from his betrayer to a corner at the other end of the room. Satisfied with his painting, Alpha shrugged his apology.

Acquiring Bravery by Mia Maine

“…indulging in that atrocious activity is hardly amusing,” Mom yelled! Her voice reverberated off the walls and shimmied down my spine, accentuating the room’s acoustics. It wasn’t her tone, albeit laced with anger, but the look in her eyes that captured my attention. Beneath the rage lay such concern and disappointment, that I began to feel the shame that was conspicuously absent whilst performing the deed. While in the moment, titillated by the concept of violating a taboo and exhilarated by the extent of my daring, I savored every precious surge of adrenaline not each inhalation of tar and nicotine.