I couldn’t help it. This dumb brick joke of a pop culture reference got stuck in my head.
“What do you mean, NO! I’m your master. You can’t say
Her face grew redder as her pitch and volume rose into
the scream, but still failed to approach the shining crimson of the much more
relaxed face she was screaming at. He rolled his eyes and drew a long pull from
the massive goblet in his hands, the dozen twisty curly straws each somehow
filling with a different color liquid before all combining where the mass of
straws were held bundled together by his ruby lips.
Catherine stopped for a moment, puzzled by the fact that
she could clearly see him roll his eyes, even though she couldn’t actually SEE
his eyes behind the massive, chromed shades he wore. This situation quickly
reversed as he set down the comically large glass on a table that hadn’t been
there a minute ago, sat up a bit straighter on the fluffy divan that had filled
her small apartment living room, and lifted the shades to his forehead. The
burning embers of his eyes smoldered in boredom, a mild quirk of his lips
betraying the amusement he tried to hide behind the nonchalant demeanor that
had been his only attitude since appearing in a puff of smoke.
Continue reading “Flash Fiction : Wrong Bottle”
So, it’s the 90th anniversary of the discovery of our 9th planet, Pluto.
Yes. It’s a planet. There are a LOT of reasons why the IAU decision is a steaming pile of manure. I put a couple of them into song! (To the tune of Billy Joel’s ‘She’s always a woman to me’.)
It can push and can pull, where another planet lies
Continue reading “Happy Birthday Pluto! : Song Pluto’s always a planet to me”
Good Lowell had faith we would see it with eyes
In his tower in Flagstaff Clyde finally did see
They call it a dwarf now but Pluto’s always a planet to me.
Thanks to Totally Mindy on Kid’s Place live this morning, I have a horrible cyberpunk version of Old Yeller in my head… here’s a snippet of “the scene” in my head, so you can all share in my horror at my own brain.
“No pa. He’s my dog. I’ll do
it.” Tahmina pulled the old keyboard
out from the rack by her desk. “Easy Nu,
easy girl.” Yeller growled, the thin
crackling from her blown speaker modulating as Tahmina slid down the access
panel on her neck, slotting the old usb-c connector. The dog froze as the
command line activated, the familiar floating screen popping into existence
above the board. She closed her eyes tightly,
typing by touch, the clacking of the old physical keys feeling like nothing
less than the loading and cocking of a shotgun. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up
to see Arslan standing over her, a rare tear touching his own eye as he nodded
to her, knowingly. She looked at the
screen, the lines of instructions, approvals, directory searches.
Her father coughed lightly, unable to see the
screen from his angle, but not willing to move to look. “Tahmi, darling, you need to get the subroot
directory under the facial imagery as well.”
She squeezed her eyes shut
again, but the blinking prompt was seared into her retina. “Confirm full system reformat and restory?
“I know father, I did. She…
she won’t recognize my face anymore.”
With a sob, she stabbed down
on the y key, and then tossed the keyboard from her lap, bursting to her feet
and out the door.