Just East of West

Well, I promised my sister I would turn her short story suggestion earlier this week into a short story all it’s own. Her suggestion was, as a reminder, the phrase “it slithered.” I wrote this last night in about a half an hour, and then tweaked it around on my lunch break. Enjoy! (Also, Aaron and I are writing something together we will post probably tomorrow.) (more…)

For our faithful reader and friend, Victoria. I hope you like it. Happy Birthday.

———– William Weatherby collapsed into his seat on the train, heaved a heavy and world weary sigh, and wondered what had happened to his life. Sniffling slightly due to the foggy chill of London, he pulled his train ticket out of his over coat pocket, and set it on the windowsill, where it perched apologetically. William put his feet up on the ugly upholstered seat across from him, and folded his arms in what he hoped was a clear sign that all four of these seats were taken, if not by his physical body, then by the full force of William Weatherby’s bad attitude. (more…)

A short story I wrote last night while Aaron was packing. Enjoy!
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I always tell my mates, “Don’t lean out like that. You can never tell what’s out there.” It’s something you learn, over time, doing a tour on the ground. Neos come down often enough, off the ships, ready to earn their bragging rights. Not much to brag on, once you find out what it’s really like. Planet-side is a lot like ship-side, except for mostly everything. Ship’s got clean air, clean water, and clean clothes you don’t have to do your self. Down here, well, it’s different. (more…)

The ending you’ve been asking for… or something! Enjoy!

“What do you think?” Joash asked Casting, facing the mirror and shooting out his sleeve cuffs. “Well, turn around Operative Brisbane, I can’t check this impossible get up properly from this angle.” Casting huffed.  (more…)

Part two of three in my latest short story. Enjoy!

Joash and Casting made the hour trip away from the city dock, and came to the Guide house. Built in the shape of a large, very red barn, it had many bright open windows and crisp smelling rooms. The scent of drying herbs and wood smoke filled the forested area around the house; a large garden absorbed the acreage between the home and the forest. A pair of matched black dogs ran side by side, slamming into each other in their turn around the house. Casting loudly admonished the dogs as he stepped over the threshold, and they obediently gave him a glance that seemed attentive, if unimpressed. Like all Guides, Casting lived in this enormous home with the others whose skills provided food and comfort for the Oracles.  Far from solitary, the Oracles were none the less busy, and needed, like most men with many preoccupations, all the help they could get in keeping their lives comfortable and orderly. (more…)

You didn’t ask for it, but you’re getting it anyway. Here is Part One of ” The House Brisbane goes Consulting” ****************

Joash stepped of the ship, a Factor Seven aeronaut, and took his first breath of clean, unrecycled oxygen in over a week.  The journey here from his own Colony was a week long, but comfortable on a Factor Seven, the largest aeronauts available, made for high orbit jumps. This particular ship, the Guardian, was the same ship Joash usually took on journeys for the Colony. However, it was the first time the Guardian had brought him here to Eh’ Art, known to it’s natives, as Earth.  (more…)

I borrowed clothes from my sister when she went to NZ. She was worried about me borrowing them, and subsequently, returning them. Being such lovely clothes, and loyal too, they asked me to post this letter they wrote to her. I thought you might enjoy it too.

To Meghan, Our Illustrious Owner:

New Zealand

From: White Shirt, Black Vest, Purple Sweater and Green Skirt:

Left Side of Closet,

Missouri

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In the comment box of my last post, my sister kindly left me posting suggestions. I chose one, and turned it into a short story. Enjoy. :-) 
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 ” Are you sure you want to go through with this, Mr. Trump?” Asked the cloaked stranger, pushing back the folds of his traveling cloak and peering indelicately into the blue eyes of an average New York Man with astoundingly perfect hair.
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