Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category
Bed Time
Thursday, January 15th, 2009
First, you should floss and brush your teeth really well. And wash your face. Here’s your towel. Yes, that looks like the perfect nightgown to wear.
Do your clothes go on the floor? No, I don’t think so; I think they belong in the laundry hamper.
Thank you. Now climb into bed. No bouncing!
Okay, maybe just a little bouncing.
Yes, I like to bounce, too, but I might break the bed.
Okay, I’ll bounce, too, but just a little bit.
Oops.
I’m sorry about your bed, but isn’t it just as much fun to be in your sleeping bag on the floor? I think so, too.
Stretch out and I’ll pull up the top of it just right. Do your feet go on the pillow? I don’t think so; that’s where your head goes.
Do you want some music like usual? Okay, there you go. Give me a kiss on the cheek, and here’s one for you.
Why yes, the music is very nice. It makes me want to dance.
Let’s dance!
Watch me stomp!
Oops.
Isn’t our basement nice? It’s a good thing we have all these comfortable boxes down here to land on. Now let’s not bounce any more. Let’s not stomp any more.
It’s time for bed. I’ll turn off the light now.
Wait, did we do everything? Let me think: floss, brush, gown, hamper, bounce, oops, pillow, music, kiss, dance, stomp, oops, light. Yes, I believe we remembered everything.
Of course we remembered everything. Elephants are very good at remembering
Good night, sweetheart.
Riding Free at the Bear Lite Bulb
Wednesday, January 14th, 2009
The Zombie Kittenz were playing and Shawana was dying to go. But it was at the BLB, an under-21 show. She couldn’t pass any more, not since working as a bud mother. That left two choices, but the one she could afford was hitching a ride in her kid sister’s cerebellum.
The worst part was the teen angst. It had been forever since she felt this way. Actually, she had never felt this way. Noemi was a spoiled brat. But the Kittenz were the smog. She had to be there.
At the door they were doing brain scans. Shawana had to mantra. Lucky they didn’t notice her; she’d have been evicted on the spot. Inside, Noemi and her age mates formed a teenoma right in front of the stage. Shawana had not expected to be so close. The Kittenz were known for putting on a pretty wild show, but there was nothing she could do about it.
The front band played a lot of AI-synthocrap on flamboyant instruments that were nothing more than glorified MP6 players. Finally, the lights went low. Foreboding music throbbed in her borrowed bowels. The sound quickly rose to a shriek as the Kittenz leapt onto the stage. Their performance went far beyond audiovisual. They were using gravity waves. They were beaming coded sequences directly into the audience. Tygger stopped right in front of Noemi and her friends and leaned so close it was clear her costume was painted on. “No free rides,” she snarled. She pointed a REM gun directly at Noemi/Shawana and fired. Everything disappeared.
Don’t panic, Shawana thought, and tried to remember the drill. She repeated her emergency mantra, and wondered when Noemi would notice she was gone. She tried to scream, but nothing happened. She desperately sought something, anything she could latch on to. There it was! Somehow, she had found Noemi again. Or, maybe her own body. It didn’t matter. She dove for it, slamming into the cerebrum like a ball into a glove. It was such a relief to be corporeal again. She opened her eyes.
She stood, nude, in a transparent fluid-filled cylinder. She’d heard about this room, but never seen it before. She was in a clone body, and at least 20 other body tubes were occupied. Damn! She hoped the show would end soon. And that she could talk her way out of the fine. She slammed her fist against the wall of the tube.
The end