Flash Fiction : Wrong Bottle

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 NO!”

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.

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Happy Birthday Pluto! : Song Pluto’s always a planet to me

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
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.

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Fiction Snippet : Nu Yeller

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? Y/N?” 

“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.