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Monthly Archives: May 2014

The New Generation

29 Thursday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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android, high school, regeneration, Story

Unit M3-L173 stumbled through the door of her home, dumping her purple backpack beside the door. The backpack snagged on her shoulder, caught between the ball joint and the wires of her neck, as always, but she unhooked it with a well-practised shrug.

“I’m home, Mom!” She called out through the house, the noise bouncing between the worn staircase and the yellow hallway towards the kitchen. A middle-aged woman wearing a flour covered apron came out.

“Emy!! You’re home!” She said, wrapping the android in a massive hug without even putting down her wooden spoon. “Come come, I’m making your favourite blueberry muffins in the kitchen. You can tell me how your day went.” Emy hesitated as the woman walked away, following behind her at a much slower pace. Her mother was already busy in the kitchen when she settled down on a stool at the counter.

“So, how was high school?” her mother prodded again. “Better than last week?”

“No.” Emy said with sigh, toying with the hem of her t-shirt. “I don’t know why you make me go, I already know all the material.” Her mother pursed her lips.

“It’s not so you can learn the material, Emy, it’s so you can learn about other kids your age.” She said as she stirred the batter.

“Well, the other kids just hate me.” Emy spat out, still not wanting to make eye contact.

“Is that Josh kid picking on you again? I can call the school-“

“It’s not just him! It’s him and the rest of the football team! It’s him and all the popular girls with their stupid designer shirts!” The android plucked at the shirt on her metal body. “Why am I even wearing this thing if it’s not going to make them like me more!?” Her mother watched her with sad eyes.

“There’s more to being popular than wearing the right clothes, Emy.” She said softly.

“Well great,” the android replied, “I guess I don’t need this.” She started to pull off the shirt when she heard her mother take a sharp breath. She froze mid action, then hastily tried to pull it back down, but it was too late. Her mother was already walking around the counter, pulling up the shirt over her left hip.

The metal joint was crushed, with cracks running up the plating. A thick red liquid oozed through the cracks, warm beneath Emy’s still human fingers. She winced slightly as her mother’s fingers traced the crack up her back, only to find a second dent, a perfect circle of cracks, the size of end of a baseball bat. Emy closed her eyes in silence as her mother pulled off the shirt completely, revealing three more dents on her red-stained back.

“Emy, who did this?” Her mother asked. Tears squeezed out of Emy’s red and blue eyes.

“I don’t know. Josh did. The football team. All of them. Said I deserve it for being too perfect.” She shook gently beneath her mothers hands.

“Go get in the regen pod.” Her mother said gently, “I’m going to call the school.” Emy looked up in panic, tears staining her porcelain face.

“No, please no.” She whispered in horror. “It’ll just make it worse.”

“Emy Lite, go get in the regen pod.” Her mother said firmly. She reluctantly got to her feet, her full name overriding any further resistance. The pod was in her bedroom, glowing a soft blue as she stepped in. The pod closed about her and gently reclined as it locked into place.

Regeneration Is Now Required, Remain Calm

The blue glow turned purple and the thick pink biofluid began to fill the pod ad as Emy heart pounded, sensitive ears straining to pick up the sounds of her mother on the phone down the hall.

The Genie on Live TV

25 Sunday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Bees, Oprah, Story

Susan squirmed beneath a thick layer of make-up on Oprah’s couch. Her mouth felt dry as a bone and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands in front of the studio audience. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder as she looked up at the face she’d always admired.

“Are you okay?” Oprah asked quietly, sitting a glass of water her. Susan nodded quickly, grabbing for the water.

“Just nervous.” She said, trying to put on a smile. Oprah patted her shoulder.

“You’ll do fine, don’t worry.” She said, taking her seat as the camera man counted down on his fingers. The audience clapped as the red sign over her head illuminated.

“And we’re back, with Susan DeClaret, author of best-selling book, My Only Wish.” Oprah announced in a cheerful voice.

“Now Susan, I was captivated by your description of Cynthia as she found the genie’s lantern in a thrift store. It was such an intense moment when she rubbed that lamp, desperately hoping for a miracle. Can you describe your thought process in that scene?”

Susan licked her dry lips, rubbing her sweaty palms against her black skirt.

“Well, Oprah, I think everyone knows that feeling some days, where you’re praying for a miracle, knowing just how unlikely it is. Sometimes I feel like I’ve found my own miracle with the success of this book.” The audience laughed appreciatively, Oprah laughing along with them.

“Well Susan, after reading your book, I happened to be walking through a thrift store myself, and you’ll never guess what I found.” Oprah reached into a bag beside her, drawing forth an old oil lamp, resembling the one described in Susan’s book. The audience gave an appreciative gasp. “And well, I thought I just had to bring it along, and see if you can summon a bit of magic here for us.”

The audience tittered as Susan took the magic lamp playfully. “I don’t know Oprah, genies are notoriously shy.” She said, rubbing the lamp to play along. “I’m sure nothing will-“

With a clap of thunder, green smoke began to pour out of the spout of the lamp, roiling up into a great cloud that formed itself into the shape of a man. The man stared down on Susan, who had dropped the lamp and pressed herself into the couch. The audience was in a panic as the genie boomed.

“SILENCE!!”

In the calm that followed, the genie’s gaze bore down on Susan, his sapphire boring a hole into her.

“Speak your wish, mortal.” He demanded. Susan stared up, her tongue twisting in her mouth. A wish? For what? Fame and fortune? No, not on live TV, she’d look greedy, and she was already on her way. No, something altruistic. Images of dying crops and starving children bombarded her as she thought of all the wrongs in the world. Her mind raced, finally grabbing at the first thought that came to her. She fumbled the words out of her mouth, too nervous to even speak straight.

“W-World… Bees.”

She gasped as she heard herself, trying desperately to reclaim the misspoken word, but it was too late, as the genie vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but a million bees  in his wake.

oprah-bees

First Dates

22 Thursday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Odds and Ends, Stories

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beach, date, Story

June walked down the boardwalk with Ben, watching as the waves crashed onto the beach below, coloured gold by the setting sun.

“This is nice,” she said with a careless smile, “I haven’t done this since me and Mark were teens.”

“Oh? Who was Mark?” Ben asked with a wink. “Should I be jealous?” June pursed her lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to mention him and spoil the mood. Mark is… Well, he was my husband.”

“So you’re divorced then? Tough luck for him, letting you slip away.” Bem gave her a sly smile. June smiled wistfully, recalling bad memories.

“Thank you, but we weren’t divorced. Mark went missing twelve years ago. He went to pick up some milk and never came home. No one ever found him again.” Ben frowned with confusion.

“So he just walked out on you? Sounds like a douche to me.”

June shrugged, “That’s what my mother used to say, but I was never convinced that’s what happened. Mark and I were happy together, he even kissed me goodbye that day. But then he was just gone.”

June stepped a little closer to Ben to steal his body heat as a chill wind blew in from the beach. With a chivalrous sweep, he slipped off his jacket, wrapping it around her thin sundress as it’s namesake slipped below the horizon. She gave him a grateful look as she snuggled it closer. Ben reached out to pull her closer, but changed his mind at the last second. He faked a stretch instead, blurting out words to cover his awkwardness.

“And no one found him again?”

June shook her head. “I’ll tell you the oddest part though. When I finally got around to giving away all his clothes, I found this shoebox in his sock drawer, filled with 3 passports and over $2000 in cash.” She smiled as Ben’s eyes went wide with the juicy detail.

“Wow, I wonder what that was for?”

June shrugged under Ben’s too-big coat. “Don’t suppose I’ll ever know. But enough about my former husband, tell me more about yourself. Any skeletons in your closets?”

Ben laughed. “Nothing quite as exciting, just one crazy ex named Amy. Some of the shit she used to pull…”

The boardwalk ended below their feet as Ben kept talked, and June wordlessly lead him down familiar streets towards her home. The Miami streets were brightly illuminated with strings of Christmas lights on every bar patio, filled with people out drinking on a Friday night. But the world stopped momentarily when she caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. Mark’s grey eyes met hers, still framed by his boyish locks and large ears. June’s heart caught in her throat, but as quickly as she saw him, a woman in red stepped in front, and he was gone.

She tried to tune back into Ben, trying to calm herself. Mark would be older now, she reminded herself, not looking like he’d just stepped out the door. She tried to glance back, but all she saw was a mass of people sitting on a patio.

“…Your place?”

June caught just the end of Ben’s question. She had to ask him to repeat it.

“Am I taking you back to your place?” He asked again. June reconsidered, replaying their date before reaching a snap decision.

“Actually, I’d like to see your place.” She said with a wry smile. “I think the ghosts in my house are a little too loud tonight.”


“What are you looking at, Daniel?” asked a woman in a low cut red dress. The man with black curls turned his attention back to his date.

“It was nothing- Denise. Just somebody that I used to know.” The woman glanced curiously down the sidewalk at the passing people.

“Why don’t you go say hello then?” She asked. Daniel sipped his drink as he watched the pair walk away.

“Nah. She doesn’t need me interfering right now.” He said with love in his voice.

One Last Flower

16 Friday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, Will & Dia

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Dia, fiction, funeral, ghosts, Story, Will, Will & Dia

“Do you want to come to the funeral?” Dia asked quietly. Will bit the inside of his lip. He and Dia had only been dating a few weeks now, but he could see her silently begging behind her brown eyes. He hadn’t even met her grandma, but he’d be a monster to say no to her pain.

“Of course I’ll come.” He responded quickly.

The next day, he waited outside her house beside his car as Dia came out in a black dress covered in red roses. She was still putting in a teardrop shaped earring as she got in beside him.

“Thanks for coming, I just hate going to family gatherings alone. And funerals give me the heebies.”

“I think funerals give everyone the heebies.” He said reassuringly, rubbing her knee through her nylons. “Where are we headed?”

The car ride passed quickly as Dia told him stories about her grandma. About the cookies they’d baked when she was supposed to be too sick to go to school, and playing dress-up in her closet with floppy hats and lipstick. As they pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, Will saw an older woman come quickly walking up. The woman shared Dia’s curly hair and brown eyes, and as Dia rushed up to sweep her into a hug, he could see the resemblance in their round cheek bones.

“Mom, this is Will.” Dia introduced as he came out of the car. “He’s the one I’ve been telling you about.” The woman looked him up briefly before sweeping him up into an equally big hug.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Will. Come on Dianna, let’s go introduce him to everyone.”

After shaking what felt like an endless number of hands, Will collapsed onto a small bench in the hallway. He heaved a sigh of relief as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, young man.” Said a voice beside him. Will looked over to see an elderly woman sitting beside him. She smiled at him warmly, her pure white hair curling gently about her ears. He was struck by the smile that it seemed Dia’s whole family shared, a genuinely happy one to see. He quickly straightened himself out, holding out his hand to shake.

“I’m Will, Dianna’s new boyfriend.” He said, giving a gentle shake to the delicate hand beneath his. The woman’s brown eyes twinkled back at him.

“So Dia has herself a new lover. How lovely for her!” She leaned over and whispered in a conspiratal tone, “We were worried she might never find herself a nice man. But you seem positively charming!” Will blushed slightly.

“Well, I try to be. I never realized her family was so… big.” The woman laughed, leaning over to peek through the open door where the family had gathered.

“Yes, who would imagine so many people turning out for one crazy, old lady.”

“She must have done something right, at least, to have such a welcoming family.” Will retorted, defensive of the woman he’d never met.

“And yet you’re sitting out here! What, did they scare you off?” She said with a playful hint.

Will ran a hand through his hair, “No, it’s just very intense. My family’s funerals have never been quite as boisterous as this one, Mrs…” He trailed off hesitantly.

“Call me Primrose, please. I think that she would have liked this funeral. It’s loud, and full of life. Better to celebrate what she did than mourn that she’s gone, right?”

Will nodded thoughtfully, “A celebration of life then…”

“…And maybe some new beginnings. You treat Dia well, okay? She deserves the best.”

Will smiled back at the woman, “I think I can do that.”

Just then Dia and her mother came into the hallway. “There you are, Will!” Dia said, “Come in, they’re about to do the eulogy.”

“Oh, sorry.” Will said, getting up, “I was just talking to Primrose here.” He gestured to the seat beside him as he noticed Dia’s mother’s eyes begin to fill with tears.

“You’re such a sweet boy.” She choked out before heading back into the room. Dia smiled.

“I didn’t know you were religious.” She said quietly, pulling him towards the gathering room. Will glanced back in confusion, to see nothing but an empty bench in the hallway. As he was pulled into the room, he heard Dia’s uncle from the front of the room begin to talk.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the passing of a great woman, Primrose Barriet…”

Drums of War – Part #8 – Aggressions

14 Wednesday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, The Drums of War

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Drums of War, fantasy, Gwen, Keita, Turgis

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Gwendolyn hustled out into the private garden of the Warden’s headquarters, her cloak hastily tossed over her shoulders. Turgis had a goofy smile plastered over his face as he waved in greeting to her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked fiercely, pulling him away from the window and down a well-forested path. Turgis laughed at her discomfort, gesturing behind him to where Keita hid in the woods. “I thought you were smarter than this, you know most of the Wardens here wouldn’t think twice about turning you into fertilizer for trespassing.” Turgis rolled his eyes.

“Aye, well, I wanted to see you again.” Gwen snorted.

“Right after I caught you with a new lady? You might be dumber than I thought.”

“Bah! I’m old enough to be Keita’s father. I was just trying to keep her out of trouble.” Gwen gave him a doubtful look.

“So why are you here now, with her?” She stopped walking away and turned to stare at him. She’d led them to a small grove beneath a huge willow tree, the leaves drooped dense and green around them. “The truth this time.”

Turgis gave her a mischievous smile. “Stirring up some trouble.”

“So let me get this straight. She needs to see the Oak of Ages for this quest of hers. That doesn’t really explain where you fit in.” Gwen said, one explanation later. Turgis shrugged.

“I’m helping. She seemed a little lost.”

“Hey!” Keita exclaimed beside him. “I just got here, I would have found my way eventually. I’m not that helpless.” Turgis sighed.

“Keita, look, are you going to do this whether I’m here or not?”

“Of course I am!” She said, hands set on her hips.

“And will this be significantly easier with my help?” The girl fell silent, glowering. “Then I suggest you start accepting my help and stop worrying about the why. I have my reasons.” He turned back to Gwendolyn, who had watched the interaction. “So, can you help us out?”

Gwen arched an eyebrow at Turgis, “Well, I can certainly help bring you to the Oak of Ages, come this way.”

Keita fell into step beside the druid as she led the way through the woods. Gwen smiled at her. “The Oak is actually open to all visitors, so your elder should already be there. The Oak is the center of the power in Cetrius, that all the Wardens draw from. Without it, all the plants across the neighbouring kingdoms would wilt and die.”

Keita listened to Gwen’s speech curiously. “So, what’s to prevent someone from trying to destroy it then?” Turgis snorted from behind her.

“She is.” He said, gesturing to Gwen. Keita sized up the young girl, taking in her flowing hair filled with flowers and short stature.

“She doesn’t look that tough.” She said dismissively, “I could probably take her.” Gwen raised an eyebrow as Turgis chuckled.

“You think so?” Gwen asked, glancing around at the surroundings. Keita puffed out her chest.

“Yes, any time, Warden.” She said condescendingly. Gwen sighed, shrugging at Turgis who was still laughing.

“Is this a good place to fight, Keita?” She asked, gesturing at the clearing. Keita took in the area, a sparsely wooded clearing about 20 feet across.

“Perfect.” She said, breaking into a wide grin. “Back off, old man, I don’t need you coming to my rescue this time.” Gwen gave Turgis’s back a hard stare as he retreated further down the path. Gwen backed off several steps from Keita as Turgis signalled the start of the fight.

“Start!!” He declared from a safe distance. The barbarian lunged at the small druid fiercely, but tripped just short of reaching her, with a vine wrapped tightly about one leg. She went to rip it off, but no sooner had she torn free of that one that another had wrapped itself firmly about one arm. Soon she was buried beneath a squirming mass of vines that writhed around her. Turgis nudged her with his toe.

“Do you give up?” He asked, holding back his laughter. A low growl emerged from the greenery, and a hand quickly shot out towards his leg, jerking him off feet. He landed heavily beside the girl, a pair of grey eyes glowering out at him from beneath a thick vine crawling along her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who wanted to fight the Warden beside ‘Their source of power.'” He said, kicking a questing vine off his ankle as he stood up again. She growled at him, still struggling against the vines as he backed away.

“Should we keep walking?” Gwen asked from across the clearing. She held one hand tightly clenched at her side as the flowers in her hair glowed faintly, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with the blight of the barbarian girl.

“I suppose we may as well.” Turgis said, heading towards her and the path. As he reached the path, he heard Keita cry out.

“Enough!” She yelled, now having struggled her way onto her knees beneath the vines. Gwen relaxed her fist and the vines abruptly stop moving, though not retracting. As Keita tore the remaining vines off, Turgis reached out and lightly touched on of the flowers in Gwen’s hair. It broke off into his palm, the glow having faded away. He looked at Gwen curiously, but she shrugged it off.

“It’ll grow back.” She said, unconcerned. Keita came up, pulling weeds from her hair and set off down the path, with Gwen falling in step beside her. Turgis tucked the delicate blossom into his cloak as he followed after the two girls, now animately talking.

A Blind Date

12 Monday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories, Will & Dia

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colour, date, Dia, Story, Will, Will & Dia

Will watched as the girl entered the coffee shop, mesmerized. Her short dress swished as she walked, kicking up the multitude of pastel layers like she was a fae, caught in a world of harsh lines and bold colours. She laughed with the barista at the counter, her voice echoing towards Will like the sound of a crystal wine glass being clinked. As she collected her order and headed towards the back of the shop, Will smiled to himself, admiring the way she walked, with a slight twist to her step to best set her hips swaying.

“You’re staring.” She said as she walked past his table. Will broke out of his reverie with a slight shake of his head.

“I’m sorry, I was just… Waiting for someone.” The girl beamed a smile towards him.

“Well I’m meeting someone. Perhaps it’s you?” She said with a wink. Will smiled back at her, straightening out in his seat.

“Perhaps it is. Are you Dianna?”

“Call me Dia, only my mother calls me that.” She said as she plunked herself into the spare seat. “So Mr. William Cooper, we meet at last.”

It was Will’s turn to laugh. “Please, call me Will. Only my father calls me William.”

“Will then.” Dia said, taking a sip of her whip cream and sprinkle covered drink. Will stirred his coffee, two sugars, two cream, and realized that all the conversation topics he’d prepared for this date had flown clear from his brain. He sipped at his coffee to stall, suddenly panicked at the idea of talking to this woman with hair like spun gold.

Dia put down her drink, taking in Will in his off-white dress shirt and beige pants. “So Will, what do you do for a living?” Will hastily swallowed his coffee.

“Oh, I’m a business analyst at a tech company. We work just down the road, making software that helps stores order and ship new stock…”

“Oh!” Dia said like she’d worked out a puzzle, “Did you just come from work then?” Will felt his cheeks grow warm. He self-consciously glanced at his outfit that he’d spent all morning agonizing over.

“I… Yes, I did.” He rushed his way to a new topic, “What about you, what do you do for work?” Now it was Dia who seemed self-conscious.

“I work at a used bookstore down on Main Street, but on weekdays I’m a waitress.” She replied. “The bookstore is really cool, I’d work there full time if I could, but there’s never enough hours. You know how it goes.” Will nodded along, stopping himself at her last words.

“I guess… I mean, I’ve never really had that sort of job. Unitech hired me right out of University, I’ve been working there since.” Dia pursed her lips, and Will stumbled in his words.

“Uh… Pets!” His brain latched onto a new conversation topic, vaguely recalling the list he’d looked up over his lunch hour. “Do you have any pets?”

The lights turned back on on Dia’s face, as she clasped her hands together near her face.

“Yes! I have the cutest little cockatiel at home! I named her Pearl, she’s super affectionate for a bird. She always wants to come out and cuddle with me when I’m watching TV.”

“So you’re a bird person?” Will said with a smile. “Does she sing for you?”

“All the time. I can barely get her to shut up most days, she always wants to sing along to the commercials. What about you?” Will spread his hands.

“I just have a dog. Her name’s Gabriel, she’s a bit of a handful.”

Dia laughed. “I should have guessed you’re a dog person.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s just a safe pet.” Dia said. “A safe pet for the guy who works a safe job.” Will pursed his lips.

“Are you saying I’m boring?” He asked.

“You’re just very… average.” Dia replied, “Not that average is bad, but it’s just not very exciting. I should have expected Becky to set me up with someone like you.”

Will looked Dia up, taking in this brilliant gem of a woman who’d walked into his life. He could see this date slipping quickly downhill, just like his last 6 dates had gone. He couldn’t let this one slip away too, not this woman who’d so captivated his eye. He looked into her twinkling eyes as he got up from his seat, pulling her towards the door with a mischievious smile.

“Come. Let’s go do something more exciting then.”

Under Sapphire Skies

10 Saturday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Amelia Earhart, Atlantis, fantasy, Story, veil

As the early morning sun dyed the sands gold, Amelia Earhart paced the shores of Atlantis yet again, kicking over any mounds of sand that seemed too tall and inspecting the various bits of garbage the ocean had washed in.

“At it again?” Asked a tall, dark skinned man, walking up beside her, in a language that has long been forgotten. He was well muscled and wore nothing but a loin cloth and a string of beads about his neck. From the waist down his legs were covered in blue-green scales, that ended in large feet with long, webbed toes. He carried a slim fishing spear with him. Amelia replied in the same language he spoke.

“One day, Kay. One day soon I’ll find that last piece, and finally fix my plane.” She bent over to inspect a particularly promising mess in the sand, but found nothing but an unspooled cassette tape. She sighed in frustration, but shoved the mess into a basket woven from torn grocery bags. It wouldn’t get her plane moving, but it might be useful to trade in town. The Atlantians were mostly self sustained, but always found a creative use for the discard trash of the outside world. Magnetic ribbons were a popular decorative ornament.

“And then what?” Kazil said, the sun glinting iridescently off the scales embedded about his neck. “You’ll find this… gasoli you speak of, and fly off into the veil? Into that?” He gestured with his spear into the clouded mists that surrounded the island. It glittered like a rainbow, and empathized his gesture with a crackle of jade coloured lightning. Amelia turned to stare at the unbroken wall of mists, quietly. The silence dragged on as she stared into it, beginning to frown. Kazil drew his lip into a thin line, and walked behind her, slipping his arms about her and drawing her close to his bare chest. After a moment, Amelia looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“I can’t spend my whole life here, Kay. I’m a free spirit, I need to see the world. This feels like a cage I’ll never escape.”

“From what you’ve told me, you’ve already spent two lives here with me. Now come back to bed, you make me feel like I’m still in my first century of life.” He said, playfully nuzzling her neck.

Hours later, Kazil found her on the beach yet again, staring out at the veil as it danced and glittered.

“Still thinking of leaving me.” He said without malice, sitting beside her to watch the evening sun turn the mists red, orange and purple.

“Tell me about the veil again.” She said, “Truly, has no one ever lived to get past it?”

“None that we know of. People have tried, of course, but their bodies are normally found washed up on shores a few days later.”

“But not all of the bodies, right?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Kazil sighed.

“Not all, no, but the last person to go missing to the veil was centuries ago. Not since my grandfather’s times.”

“I wonder if they still speak English out there.” Amelia mused in her native tongue.

“My grandfather knew him, you know. Soren, the last person to try to leave Atlantis. He said he was like you. Always curious. Always infected with, how do you say it, wanderlust?” He twisted his tongue about the foreign word as Amelia looked at him curiously.

“You never told me this story, Kay.” She said, gently accusing him.

“I did some asking about for you, my little caged seagull. My Grandfather likes you. He says Soren was obsessed with the veil, like you are. That he would claim the veil had moods, that could be tracked like one tracks the weather. He thought that the veil might be calmer at times, you see. My grandfather always laughed at his theories, but Soren was convinced he could make it through the veil. Soren would often sit out here and watch the veil, much like you do. One day, as they were sitting out here debating whether the veil was calmer at a full moon or dawn, a small blue bottle washed ashore. Soren claimed it was proof that some things could pass through unharmed. He promised my grandfather that when he made it through, he would send back a letter to my grandfather in that very bottle, to prove he made it.”

Amelia stared Kazil intently. “And then what?”

“My grandfather said that a few weeks later, on the night of the full moon, Soren went missing. No one was sure when he’d left, but my grandfather knew where he was heading. He combed the beach for years afterwards, but never did find the blue bottle again, or Soren. He says all he found was this.”

Kazil placed a curved piece of blue sea glass in Amelia’s hand, no bigger than a sand dollar, and worn smooth by the ocean currents. She turned it over several times.

“But what does it mean?” She asked.

“He wasn’t sure. But the veil sure is lovely tonight.”

Mr Wiggles Adventures

08 Thursday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Story, teddy bear

Glen quickly walked into the house, with one hand behind his back, and walked over to where his wife sat.

“Where’s Amy?” He asked, struggling to sound cheerful. His wife, Ariel, looked up from her book curiously.

“Mr. Lizak is looking after her. I think she’s playing cops and robbers with his grandson in their backyard. What’s wrong?” John pulled a sad, destroyed teddy bear out from behind his back.

“I ran over Mr Wiggles with the lawnmower.” His wife gasped, staring at the massive tear in the little brown bear. “Can you fix him?” She took the tattered bear from his hands, sliding her hand through the rip.

“Maybe… But I’m going to need some more stuffing. You run out and get that, I’m going to get my sewing kit.”

Glen slipped into the neighbour’s backyard, looking for the elderly Mr Lizak, when he got tackled mid waist by a fierce hug.

“Daddy!” The girl exclaimed, “Are you here to play with us? Cause I think I forgot Mr Wiggles at home and Robbie said we would go over and get him soon and…”

“I’ll go get him, Honey.” Glen interrupted, “Do you know where you left him?” Her face scrunched up beneath her pigtails.

“I was having a tea party with him outside when you said you needed to mow the lawn, he must still be out there!” Glen nodded seriously.

“You should be more careful with him, you wouldn’t want to leave him in the lawn. Something might happen to him.” The girl’s face crumbled at the thought and her dad quickly put on a smile. “Don’t worry, Honey, go play with Robbie.”

The girls face brightened as she ran off after the boy, wielding her toy gun widely. Glen watched her as he walked over to Mr Lizak, asking him to keep her distracted for a bit.

A few hours later, Glen and his family sat on their backyard porch with Mr Lizak and Robbie, eating ice cream as they looked out onto the freshly mowed lawn. Amy happily snuggled Mr Wiggles as Glen and Ariel shared a co-conspiring smile. It was the perfect crime, except-

“Daddy? Why does Mr Wiggles have this line on his chest now?”

Drums of War – Part #7 – Suggestion

06 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Tags

Drums of War, fantasy, Gwen, Keita, Story, Turgis

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Turgis prodded Keita’s still form where it lie on the bed.  The girl jumped up from a dead sleep, staring at the soldier as she scrambled to find a weapon.

“You’re a jumpy little thing in the mornings, aren’t ye?”  Turgis said with a laugh, standing beside the bed fully dressed.  “I wouldn’t have guessed a barbarian would sleep so late.”  Keita stared at him hatefully, her multi-coloured braid coming loose and fraying.

“The Ora wake with the sun every morning.  This is not morning.”  She said as she began to remember where she was.  Turgis nodded knowingly, as he opened the curtains over the window, letting the bright morning sun filter into the room.

“Whatever you say, darling.  I’m going to get some breakfast downstairs.”

Keita came down to the kitchen table a short time later.  Her hair was neatly braided as she stared through blurry eyes.  The only person at the big table was Turgis, though as she entered the room he pushed a plate of eggs and hash towards her.

“Not much of a morning person, I guess.”  Turgis sipped a dark tea, oblivious to Keita glaring dagger at him over the plate of food.  “I’ve been doing some thinking while you were getting your beauty sleep.  I seem to recall you mentioning some else you wanted to talk to here in Cetrius.  Seems like it might be a place to start.”  Keita swallowed a mouthful of potato.

“Don’t you have a job you’re supposed to do instead of helping me look for Elders?”  She asked suspiciously.  Turgis shrugged.

“That is my business, but I trust no one will notice my absence.”  Keita snorted.

“Really?  You’ll tell me that you think your King is insane but not that?”

“Everyone has the little truths they’d like to run away from.”  He replied casually.  Keita  lightly blushed behind her scars.

“Yes, well, it doesn’t matter much, I’m not sure where the Elder is.  This is my first time outside of the plains.  It was by luck that I found the city.”  Turgis laughed.

“Well then, perhaps it’s lucky that you found a patron as easily as you did.  So tell me, what did the Elder tell you?”  He asked.

“To find the Elder within the borders of Cetrius.  She mentioned it would be a place of great spirituality, near the Oak of Ages.”

“Hmm.”  Turgis stroked his stubbled chin.  “I’m as lost as you are.  But I know someone who would know.  Luckily, she sleeps in almost as late as you do.”

Gwendolyn  stumbled down the stairs to the common room of the Warden’s headquarters.  The small flowers in her hair had all closed their blossoms overnight, and were just beginning to reopen.  Suppressing a yawn, she grabbed a black kettle out of the hearth and poured the water over a cup of tea leaves.  She watched the tea seep out of half opened eyes quietly.  When it was cooled enough to drink, she raised it to her lips, her eyes drifting towards the window that looked out to the Warden’s Garden.

Outside the window, she saw Turgis’s smiling face, waving enthusiastically at her.

Gwen sputtered in shock, sending hot tea spraying all over the table before her.

Teaching a Robot to Love

04 Sunday May 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Poetry

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Tags

love, poem

Some people will talk about love,
and the grand displays it brings.
The chocolates  and roses on Valentines,
And serenades out window with ballads that are proven.
They’ll tell you of expensive dinners for two,
Or about a trip to Peru.
They’ll tell you about diamond rings,
Of the white dresses and triple tiered cakes,
And flowers of every hue.
Everyone knows this is how you prove your love is true.

But these acts are not where love lives.
Love lives in the unexpected cup of tea
When you come in from the cold,
Or the cup of soup when you have the flu.
Love is the gentle squeeze of a passing hand,
Or the hug waiting at the door.
Love is the shared smile when he enters the room,
And the way her eyes light up to see him there.
Love is opening the garage door for the driver,
Even when you can’t bear to look at his face any more.
Love is the candles and rose petals
Scattered on the empty floor of a new apartment.
Love is the quiet presence that fills in the gaps,
When the shows and bravado have gone home.
That is where true love lives.

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