The Green-Walled Tower

March 16, 2014

Bureaucracy…in Space

This is a piece for the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge. (The title is a take-off of Pigs in Space. If you don’t know what that is, click here.)

Bureaucracy…in Space

Bruce pulled himself to the bathroom and squeezed out a few painful, amber drops. The purifiers banged and vibrated and he waited with swollen throat for that tiny cupful of pure water to emerge. He was still twenty-two days away from Earth, far too long to survive like this.

There was a blip on his radar—another ship in range. With trembling hands, he hailed them.

“This is Scout eagle 45AZ. What type of ship are you?” he asked.

“Scout eagle 45AZ, this is Transport 50TS.”

“TS? You’re a terraforming ship? What are you carrying?”

“Water,” came the reply.

“50TS, I need water,” Bruce called. “My tank sprung a leak and I’ve been venting water. I just need a few gallons to get me back to Earth.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry 45AZ, but our tanks are all sealed. We need permission to open them.”

“Then get it!” Bruce shouted. “I’m dying here.” His voice cracked and he started coughing.

Several minutes passed before there was a reply. “45AZ, I’ve obtained conditional permission. I’m sending you the order now.”

A message flashed on Bruce’s screen.

FROM HIGH COMMAND:

Permission for water tanks to be opened is granted, contingent on the applicant appearing before a tribunal on Earth in two days time to explain the necessity. Thank you for your cooperation.

13 Comments | tags: Alastair's Photo Fiction, bureaucracy, fiction, flash fiction, science fiction, space, space travel, thirst, water | posted in Light

March 14, 2014

Lesser Known Writing Challenges

By David Stewart

If you’ve read my blog at all, you know that every week I participate in a writing group called Friday Fictioneers. It is a challenge to write a 100-word story around a photo prompt. I also often do a similar thing on Sundays, called Sunday Photo Fiction, run by Al Forbes.

These aren’t the only ones out there, by far. There are challenges to write 33-word stories, haibun (prose + haiku), even six-word stories. In that spirit, I have come up with some other writing challenges.

1. Mono-words.

Write a complete story with conflict and plot development in one word.

Example:

The Time Billy Replaced All the Thanksgiving Candles with Firecrackers

Blam!

2. The Little Word Challenge.

Write a story with words no longer than 3 letters.

Example:

My Pig Was Sad

I had a pig, Joe. Joe was sad. He saw me and my new gun. I put Joe and my new gun in my bag. We ran to the bus. At the end of the day, I ate ham. Joe was not a bad pig, but he’s not sad now. Now he’s a yum pig.

3. The Alphabet Trainers.

You must write a 26-word story, in alphabetical order by first letter.

Example:

A Beautiful Cat

A beautiful cat dodged Ernie’s fist.

“Gotcha!” he interjected joyously. “Kill little mice now!”

Ophelia proffered Quentin’s red sweater. “Tight underneath?”

“Very warm!” Xavier yelled zealously.

4. The Punctuators.

The challenge is to write a story, then take out everything but the punctuation. It’s up to the reader to fill in the blanks.

Example:

? !

,,,.,,…,..??,?,??,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.,.,,!??.,.!,.,….,.,,..,.,.,,,.,.,.,??;,.,:;;;;.,.,().,.?;.,.:

21 Comments | tags: blogging, Friday Fictioneers, prompts, punctuation, Trifecta, writing, writing challenge | posted in Uncategorized

March 12, 2014

Viruses Anonymous – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

Viruses Anonymous

The meeting was held in a backroom server.

“Hi, I’m ILOVEYOU.”

“Hi ILOVEYOU!”

“I’m a virus. It’s been 10,036,651 seconds since I’ve infected a computer. I looked in the mirror one day and realized: I’m a worm. Nobody likes me. My whole life is a lie, even my name.”

“You can mutate,” Code Red said. “You can still become a good .exe.”

ILOVEYOU nodded. “I’m trying to make amends. Now I steal private information from gangsters and send it to the Red Cross. It’s just so hard.”

Code Red gave him a hug. “It’s a long trail to walk, man.”

63 Comments | tags: AA, anonymous, computers, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, quirky, support group, virus | posted in Friday Fictioneers

March 10, 2014

What a Metaphor is

By David Stewart

A metaphor is a soaring bird, wheeling in great arcs beneath the laughing sun that dances in the deep, vibrant, ocean of the sky, where clouds school together, then scatter like puffy, frightened fish;

[*]

fish whose golden scales gleam like the ransom of kings seated on towering thrones, glaring down on the hurrying lines of ants they rule, each one a cog in the inexorable machine;

the Juggernaut crawling forward like a hideous beast of war, Ares’ lapdog resting before an inferno of souls, surrounded by the skulls of vanquished heroes, each grinning like a macabre clown, singing a song of ghoulish glee in ghastly harmony: the worst birthday party in the world;

the party stalling, the vain effort of prosperous parents to placate their tempestuous toddler, their obstreperous offspring, by showering him with medals for moot victories and bribes for better behavior;

his face a rainy day of disappointment, until his mother reveals the Great Secret, the trip away from chattering phones and economic conquests, with only the family trinity, together like a hug and a kiss;

his little heart flaming in hope and joy and leaping up like an arrow from the string, like a fiery rocket,

like a soaring bird.

Well, a metaphor is something like that. You get the idea.

9 Comments | tags: birds, birthday party, description, Fish, Juggernaut, metaphor, writing | posted in Uncategorized

March 9, 2014

Narcissus’ Soul

By David Stewart

Narcissus’ Soul

I looked down into the pool and saw myself looking back. I stared, astonished, as that other self waved at me and then walked away. He climbed the trees and read quietly by the edge of the water.

I turned away and when I looked back, I was looking back at myself. Again though, that other me vanished and soon I saw the trees in the reflection ablaze. Then the other me appeared, holding a bloody sword, and sneered at me with wicked contempt. I jerked my eyes away.

The next time I looked, I watched my reflection build a castle of crystal and alabaster around the pool, its spires soaring up to Heaven. I could not tear away and watched as that other me built an empire of perfection greater than any human accomplishment. The majesty of it brought tears to my eyes.

I felt my strength fading but I could not look away and my final thought, before darkness overcame me, was how beautiful were the works of that other self, and how wonderful, how marvelous, my potential was.

19 Comments | tags: Alastair's Photo Fiction, death, dream, fiction, flash fiction, Narcissus, potential, vision | posted in Dusk

March 8, 2014

Do you like scary stuff?

By David Stewart

My first piece of original fiction to be accepted by a literary magazine is finally out in print!

The story, Bloody Neighbors, was accepted almost a year ago and Issue #14 of Bete Noire just came out this last week. Go buy a copy and read mine and other scary stories.

18 Comments | tags: Bete Noire, creepy, magazine, publishing, short story | posted in Uncategorized

March 5, 2014

Rapacious – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

This is a hard week for me and I found this picture rather hard to turn into a good story. While pondering various story lines, I was musing over the idea of flash fiction. Rochelle, in her rules for the Fictioneers, always says that the challenge is to “Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end.” I’ve been religious with the 100-word rule but I’m sure I’ve broken the beginning-middle-end rule quite a few times, although I try. What I also try to do is: 1) make sure there is some conflict and 2) make sure the characters want something. Without these, especially conflict, it’s not a story, it’s only a scene. Of course, Rochelle makes sure to point out that no one is ostracized for breaking the 100-word and she is very forgiving with other rule bends too. And now, on with the story…

Rapacious

The Mountain is killing me. I feel the life leaching from me into the pitiless walls. The Mountain claims all: innocence, youth, health, time. The walls are fat with my wasted years.

I knew it would take my life, but I vowed it would never take ME. I feel it, though, clawing at my soul. The ME is slipping away, no matter how much I clutch it.

When they bury me, write no name on the headstone, for what they bury is not me, but merely the husk of what the Mountain has devoured.

(found scratched into a prison wall)

51 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, mountains, prison, prisoner | posted in Friday Fictioneers

March 3, 2014

It’s a brand new school year!

By David Stewart

Well, it’s back to the daily grind again. Here in Korea, today was the first day of school, which makes for one very tired Green-Walled Tower keeper. I got in the habit of getting up at 8:00 or 8:30 during vacation; now I have to get up around 6:00. As well, I’ve taught almost exclusively elementary schools for the last five years and this year I’m teaching mostly middle schools, so that’s a big adjustment.

All that to say, don’t be worried or offended if I’m not around as much in the next few days. I have a lot to do and not much energy. I’ll do what I can though.

A look into the mentality of school. This says: "The day has finally come." "The First Day of School" (high school and middle school students' final day)

A look into the mentality of students here. This says: “The day has finally come, &*@#!.” “The First Day of School” (high school and middle school students’ final day)

17 Comments | tags: blogging, 개학, first day of school, Korea, outside the tower, school, The Green-Walled Tower | posted in Korea

March 2, 2014

All Wrung Out

By David Stewart

This story deals with somewhat disturbing material. Just a heads up. It’s a story for Al Forbes’ Sunday Photo Fiction. A bit over the word limit, but please forgive me this time.

All Wrung Out

I feel wrung out, with a soul like an old dishrag, flapping in the burning wind. But you gotta keep on, so I flip a smile, crack a joke and pretend. We all do.

“We got a drill hole on 10^th Avenue,” Marc calls. “A real slip-n-slide.”

“And here I forgot my bathing suit,” I say, climbing into the truck.

There are no survivors, of course. The laser beam drilled a perfect hole down through the 20-story building, gutting it and disintegrating everything in its path. Nobody calls us when there are survivors, only when there is “organic material” to clean up. I don’t mind the “organic material”; it’s picking up the body parts I can recognize that gets to me. Nobody said war was pretty.

“Do you ever wish one of those lasers would get us?” Marc asks that evening. “Just erase the memories and nightmares forever.”

“What, and leave this dream job?” I say, laughing and taking a swig of beer.

He looks at me with pain in his eyes, pleading silently for me to be serious, just once. But I can’t do it, because I feel so thin inside that if I stop smiling, I’ll shatter.

I’m just all wrung out.

14 Comments | tags: Alastair's Photo Fiction, death, fiction, flash fiction, horror, violence, war | posted in Dark

February 28, 2014

The Laziest Dog in the World

By David Stewart

There is a coffee shop in my city that is quite beautiful. It has a large lawn, which is rare for Korean cities, and has a lot of greenery and flowing water inside and out. It also has a large dog outside that is, I swear, the laziest dog in the world. Every time I’ve been there, he’s always sleeping in the same place. He looks like he’s dead, unless you try to pet him, since he’s a bit skittish of strangers. In honor of him, I’ve written a story. I’ve written it in the style of a kid’s story, although of course with my own weird spin.