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Showing posts from July, 2018

Short Story: Alys in Wonderland

The interview didnā€™t go very well. Well, that was almost a misstatement of facts. The interview didnā€™t even happen. Alys sat for over an hour in a vacant cube, wondering if he had been forgotten. Certain that something was amiss, he again approached the front desk, ā€œExcuse me, but-ā€œ The front door opened with a bang, ā€œIā€™m late,ā€ gasped the woman in a skirt and matching blazer. She frantically glanced at her phone, then scurried down the hall. The receptionist watched the woman go, shaking her head in dismay, ā€œI would reschedule you, but the same thing will happen.ā€ ā€œWas that Jessica White?ā€ Alys followed her with his eyes. She had dark, fluffy hair and a strange little hopping jog to her step. He had but the merest impression of her face, anxiety etching it into rabbit-like nervousness. ā€œYes, and if you want to work here, you better follow her.ā€ Alys felt sure that someone would stop and question him as he wound his way through the building, searching for Jessicaā€™s...

The Sound of a Human Voice

One of the books I finished recently was Exploding the Phone by Phil Lapsley . Itā€™s a book about phone phreaks, a topic I got interested in when I was toodling around a website on defunct computers. I learned some things I didnā€™t know; like how a large number of phreaks were blind, and how the first switchboard operators were teenage boys. But the thing that surprised me the most was that itā€™s very likely Iā€™ve never used an analogue phone. By the time I was old enough to remember talking on the phone, all the systems had been converted to digital. I know Iā€™ve complained before, maybe even ranted, possibly even on this blog about how digital sound differs from voice. Sometimes I worry that society as a whole has forgotten what people actually sound like when they sing. Itā€™s different, right? Iā€™m not the only one whoā€™s noticed this, yes? Listen to someone singing in a cathedral or what the heck, pull out your record player. My point is that the sound, the undigitized sound...

Grafitti

Well, it's finally happened; my house has been tagged. Check out this nonsense: It looks vaguely like a Minion. The perpetrator of this crime had his charcoal confiscated.  Charcoal, which I may have brought home from the beach after demonstrating how to use it.  Possibly. ~/~ In spite of the longer days, summer has somehow seemed busier than its sleepy cousins.  I mean, there's sprinklers and bounce houses around every corner.  Who the heck can write while being sprayed with water or dragged into an inflatable castle.  I really didn't think they allowed adults in those things, but apparently if your child is terrified enough, they let you in.  I would try to be a little more reassuring about the bouncy-castle thing, but they are actually unsafe.  Most accidents involve the the bounce house blowing away like some modern Wizard of Oz.  I'm not entirely sure if you could squash a witch with one, but you might be able to suffocate ...

Poem: Silica

You say that glass, unbroken never glitters, that shorelines would stand empty, wont for sand. But my love is brittle, as pure as soda-lime, solid as the breakers that glisten on the sea. ************************************************** Now that the weather is sort of nice-ish again, I've been sneaking down to the beach whenever I can.  I don't know if I can even call it sneaking, since I'm carrying a bag of sand toys and cajoling two toddlers across a train-trestle/bridge thing (if you've been to Carkeek Park, you know what I'm talking about).  We actually ran into a traffic jam last time, with a row of twenty toddlers all trying to go down those see-through steps at once.  I've started working on a sort of sequel to Egregious .  So if you enjoyed the original, or you like sci-fi/fantasy mash-ups with a dash of horse carriages, check it out.   I am really working on making my writing more focused, and not being concerned about ...