Mirror Ball – Visual Fiction #21

This week’s visual fiction is a bit different than most. It’s a bit longer and darker. I hope you like it.

taken in Changwon, South Korea

taken in Changwon, South Korea

They say you can’t see yourself in the mirror ball in the park, and for once “they” are right. I don’t know how he did it–the anonymous artist who designed it–but no matter how close you get to it, you’re invisible. You can see everything else around you, skewed and stretched along the curved, reflective surface, but never yourself. I see my friend, he sees me, but neither of us sees ourselves. Weird science, I guess.

They also say that if you go the park at midnight and look into the ball, you will see how you are going to die. Nothing weird about that; it’s the kind of thing “they” say all the time. Everyone says it, but of course, no one does it.

Except I did once, with my girlfriend at the time. I took her for a walk in the woods at midnight for the same reason guys bring their  dates to horror movies. Girls who are scared cling closer to you and there’s nothing wrong with that.

We came out into the clearing with the mirror ball and my girl stepped closer to me.

“I hear that if you look in that, you see how you’re going to die,” she said.

“Oh yeah? Should I try it?” I asked. False bravado in front of the ladies.

“Come on, let’s just go,” she said.

But I wasn’t finished showing off. I stepped away from her and walked towards the ball. I saw her behind me in the reflection, stretched and contorted and standing alone in the moonlight.

Then my watch beeped.

Midnight.

In the space of a heartbeat–barely enough time to react–I saw a car appear in the circular reflection. It hit a tree and a body was flung through the windshield and towards me. It lay, unmoving, at a twisted angle that was exaggerated even further by the convex mirror. Still, I saw without a doubt that it was my girl. A figure lurched out of the driver’s seat and came towards her. It was me as I had never seen myself before: older, bearded and holding a bottle.

Then the image was gone and all I saw was my girlfriend standing in the moonlit forest, hugging her arms around herself. I turned back.

“So, did you see how you were going to die?” she asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I’m going home now.”

“What? You brought me all the way out here just to bring me home?”

“Sorry.”

And then I brought her home and went straight home myself. I broke up with her the next day, no explanation. She never forgave me for that.

“I thought you were the one,” she said.

I think I was.


A Long, Disjointed, Enlightening Chat – Fantastic Travelogue #7

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

I woke up with a jolt and an incoherent exclamation, which is about the least dignified way a person can wake up. I had been dreaming about that horrible woman and her weird stare and creepy smile. In the dream, she had been searching for me everywhere, until I had nowhere to run. Waking up was not much better, since I realized that it was mostly true.

I was still in the small room by the secret gate in the fortress. The young woman was not there and what I could tell, from the light coming in from under the door, it was full daylight outside. I was just wondering what I should do when the door opened and the young woman stepped inside, followed by a man.

A man! It was the first one I had seen in the last two days. Not that I minded being around women all the time, but it was nice to know men existed here. The man seemed pretty surprised to see me too and he and the woman had an intense conversation back and forth. Finally, I got up and with my finger, I wrote “Who are you?” in the dirt, the best I could (誰是你). It was a mixture of Japanese and Chinese characters and I didn’t know the right syntax, but at least it got their attention.

They knew Chinese characters, and began writing some in the dirt as well. What followed took several hours and a lot of miscommunication. They knew characters that I didn’t and I knew ones they didn’t and dirt isn’t the best medium for making lots of tiny strokes. There were a lot of dead-ends and a lot of good-natured frustration, but here is the gist of our conversation. I’m going to present it as if we spoke it all, just to make it easier to read.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Ain-Mai,” the woman said (she wrote it as 安美). “This is my brother, Sing-ga (石鋼)”. (I only learned later that they were brother and sister. At the time, I had no idea what she wrote and the whole thing was very confusing.)

“I am David. I live in Korea. What is this place called?”

“This is Dwengshink (東山). How did you get here?” Sing-ga asked. He kept staring at me in curiosity, especially my beard.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was walking in the mountains and I lost my way and came here. Who was that woman?”

When they understood who I meant, it sparked a lot of what seemed like angry cursing from them. “She is like a queen,” Ain-Mai said finally. “She has magic and lives in another world. Whenever she finds a man here that she likes, she takes him back with her and they don’t come back. So when she comes, all the men hide in the mountains.”

I asked them more, but they did not know anything about where she came from or who she really was, at least not that they could express through writing in the dirt. They called her Hengfel, although I didn’t recognize the characters they wrote. As far as they knew, she had always come, since the time of their parents, at least. The golden dome was her residence in Dwengshink and no one else used it.

“She comes every six months or so,” Sing-ga said, “and stays about two days.”

“But why does she come here?” I asked. “Is she the queen of Dwengshink?”

“No, she is not our queen,” they said. “She only comes to this valley. She comes to eat gaan-shi.” That was how they pronounced it. They didn’t know how to write it, but I gathered that it was a kind of fruit.

“I want to go back to Korea,” I said. This sparked a lot of discussion between the two of them, presumably about how.

“Hengfel goes back tonight,” Sing-ga said eventually, “and I think it would be good if you went before then.”

I couldn’t agree more. I never wanted to see that Hengfel woman again and I could only imagine what was happening back at the sanjang where my backpack was. I had been gone almost two whole days and they probably thought I was dead.

Ain-Mai left for an hour or so, while Sing-ga sat there with me in mostly awkward silence. He tried to talk a bit, but gave up when I clearly didn’t understand. Now that Ain-Mai wasn’t there, he did not seem to have any interest in writing in the dirt.

Ain-Mai came back with a basket of food, mostly fruit and flatbread. There were grapes, apples and things that looked like really long persimmons and finally one thickly wrinkled yellow fruit the size of a baseball that Ain-Mai said was a gaan-shi. They let me eat most of it. It was sweet and tart at the same time; really good, although I don’t think I’d travel across worlds to get it.

After we had eaten, Sing-ga said we should be going and they led the way out, on the inside of the fortress. It was mid-afternoon and the sky was blue. Ain-Mai led the way along a small path through the woods, while Sing-ga kept us fifty feet behind her, presumably in case she met anyone.

We gave the clearing with the stone circle a wide berth and kept climbing up the slope. The trees were mostly evergreens and the smell in the warm air was wonderful.

After another ten minutes, Ain-Mai stopped and motioned for us to come closer. I saw that we had reached the main path, which I had taken the day before. The old woman’s cottage, where I had gotten a drink, was right in front of us. We were approaching the house when the woman appeared at her gate. She looked scared and when she saw us, she started making motions with her hands, warding us away.

Old woman's house

I got a sick feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach and turned to to run. Ain-Mai and Sing-ga were doing the same. I saw two female guards appear on the path, up the valley ahead of us. We turned to flee, but more appeared out of the trees below as well. There was nothing to be done. I could tell that Ain-Mai and Sing-ga had both given up; I could see the defeat on their faces. As for myself, my upbringing hadn’t involved fighting multiple spearmen (or women) unarmed, so I didn’t try to be a hero. One of them clipped metal restraints around our wrists and marched us back down the valley. I heard Ain-Mai crying behind me but when I turned, I saw that it was actually Sing-ga who was crying. That freaked me out more than being handcuffed and escorted at spear point. What on earth does this woman do to men?

We went around a bend in the path and came out into the stone circle clearing. There she was, the woman they called Hengfel, standing in the middle of the clearing, with her animal skins and purple veil and her creepy, creepy smile.


Ichiban the Great – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for another Friday Fictioneers. I asked my wife what genre to write and she said, “romance”. So this is about as close as I get to romance. This story is dedicated to her.

copyright Beth Carter

copyright Beth Carter

Ichiban The Great

I told my wife I married her for her car. She laughed and called me an idiot.

Ichiban, as we called it, was dirty-diaper brown and shivered like a Floridian doing the Iditarod if you got it over 70 MPH. We lost the front bumper to a deer; the back one to a malicious fire hydrant. The hubcaps all took their leave at high speeds on various country highways.

Finally, we lost the roof to a firefighter trainee who Jaws-Of-Lifed it off, mistaking ours for the practice car. We just laughed and kissed. We had our convertible, top permanently down.

 


“Well, I’m back,” he said.

As you probably know if you saw my Sunday post, I was away last week on  a trip. I went by myself to a couple of small islands in the southwest of Korea, called Heuksando (흑산도) and Hongdo (홍도). They’re part of a national park, which is not surprising, considering all the natural beauty there. As promised, here are some pictures I took there. It’s very visual, although not fiction; it’s a travelogue, and actually was pretty fantastic. Enjoy~

I left here on Sunday and went down to the port city of Mokpo. The next day I took this ferry. It was very fast and the water was very rough, making it fun for me, until other people starting getting sick and throwing up. The guy behind me kept saying, “I’m dying. I’m dying. I want to live. I should have gotten off at the last island.”

fast ferryOn the first island, I took a bus around the island on a road that wound up and down mountains on hairpin turns and steep grades. Between the cliffs and mountains, were tiny, idyllic coves with fishing villages.CoveHere is one of the roads. This one is famous on the island and has twelves switchbacks in a row. It was quite something going up this in a bus.

Snake RoadThe next day, it was crazy windy so I walked along the beach to see the waves crashing up on the rocks.

Wind and wavesAfter a while, I hiked back inland, through the forest and through pastures. I came across a lot of cow dung, but only 4 cows the whole time. This was a bull, a cow and a calf. The calf was very cute, but I didn’t want to get close, since the cow kept bellowing at me, even when I was out of sight.

CowsThe forest on the island was almost all broad-leaf evergreens and there were vines and ivy everywhere. It is much different from the rest of Korea.

Heuksando ForestThis is a view of the harbor looking back across the peninsula where I was hiking. I could easily have stayed there for a long time. It was so peaceful.

Heuksando ViewAt sunset, I went back to the harbor where my motel was. It was the off-season for tourism, so I think I was the only one in the hotel. I never ate at a restaurant with any other customers; just the owners eating their supper.

Sunset at Yeri HarborThen I climbed up the hill behind my hotel, where I was rewarded with this view:

Sunset over HeuksandoThe next day, I took a ferry thirty minutes to the island of Hongdo, which has some of the best craggy rock formations I’ve seen. Just like on Heuksando, I was one of the only tourists there.

Hongdo harborI climbed up the mountain and had a beautiful overview of the whole southern half of the island.

Hongdo overviewThe only problem with this island was that it was quite inaccessible. A lot of cliffs, like the one below, were off-limits, with no trails or safe ways to get to them. Which is too bad, since I would really liked to climb up on some of them.

Hongdo CliffsThe day was absolutely beautiful. As opposed to the previous cloudy and windy days, this day was sunny, warm, and serene.

Hongdo ocean viewI found a hotel, then struck out to the south side of the island and fought my way through the forest of vines and thorns down to a small beach. This island was just offshore from there.

Hongdo IslandA lot of where I walked was quite close to the edges of cliffs that plunged more than a hundred feet straight down to the ocean. I was careful, of course, but I’m sure my wife would have had a heart attack if she’d seen me.

Cliffs on HongdoHongdo is much smaller than Heuksando and everyone lives in one village in the middle of the island. Probably half the buildings are hotels or restaurants, the vast majority of which were closed for the season. Here is a shot of the harbor as I was coming back in late afternoon.

Hongdo harborI walked down to a dock on the far side of the island to see the sun set behind the island.

Hongdo SunsetThe next day I got up way too early for the ferry, so I went down to the harbor and watched the sunrise.

Sunrise over HongdoThen it just better and better as I waited.

Sunrise over Hongdo

Sun and cloud over Hongdo

I hope you enjoyed the tour. Now that I’m back, I am slowly climbing the long, winding steps up into the Green-walled Tower to see what other fantastic worlds I can spy. More fiction coming up tomorrow.

P.S. Bonus points if you can name the reference in the title. It doesn’t count if you’re related to me, since I KNOW you know. 🙂


Where I sat and wrote – Visual Fiction #20

This is not really a visual fiction, in that there is no story with it, but this is a shot from where I went this past week. I went by myself and hiked around, reading and writing as well. This picture was taken on the island of Hongdo, in the extreme southwest of Korea. It was the off-season for tourists, so I was totally alone on the paths, in the restaurants, in the hotels. Here, I sat on a bench and looked out at the Yellow Sea stretching out to meet the sky. The weather was warm (for February in Korea) and there were even insects out. I sat and wrote a bit here in a leather-bound blank book my parents gave me for my birthday. It was a good time.

Taken on Hongdo, Korea

Taken on Hongdo, Korea


Barnstormer – Friday Fictioneers

Well, I’m back from my rather long wander around some Korean islands. It was a wonderful time of hiking, exploring and being alone. Thus, I’m a bit late doing the Fictioneers story this week, but better late than never. I haven’t read any of the other stories in the group yet, so I hope we didn’t have the same idea.

copyright Janet Webb

copyright Janet Webb

Barnstormer

“It flies,” Rose said, looking out her window at the barn next door.

“Does it indeed?” her mother asked. “It looks rather rundown to me.”

“Well, it used to fly. Dr. Corbeau attacked it with his horde of bamboozles and smashed in the side. I’m going to build a better one though, with rockets, and I’m going to fly it all over the world, even to Easter Island! Do you think I can? Huh?”

“I know you can, dear,” her mother said, moving the pint-sized wheelchair over next to the bed. “Now let’s go. It’s almost time for your chemo.”

 


An Update on “The Woman Who Wants to Meet Bush”

Hello everyone.

I’m not here right now. That may seem like a contradiction, since I’m writing this, but what I mean is that I am not at home when you are reading this (probably). Ah, the magic of scheduling ahead. Right now, I am probably on an island in Korea by myself. Which island, you ask? I’m not sure. I plan to go to a couple, and since the ferries sometimes run in accordance to the weather conditions, I sometimes have to change my plans. However, I will take pictures and post a few here. I plan to do a lot of reading and writing and thinking.

Now, to the update. For those of you who missed it, this is an update on the post I wrote a while ago, The Woman Who Wants to Meet Bush. It was about an interesting woman who stopped me in the market near my office and asked me to invite former US President George W. Bush to come to Korea to meet her. I did send an invitation to an email address I found for him. And a couple days later, I got a reply back.

Bush update email

Well, I am not really surprised that he isn’t coming, it was still nice to get a reply. If I ever meet her again, I’ll mention it at least.


Fantastic Travelogue #6 – Enough of This

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

 

There are times in life when something happens that changes everything. Like if you’re arguing with someone and they pull a gun out, or if you’re in a restaurant and find a mouse in your food. They’re kind of deal-breakers. That’s what it was like when I saw that map, which apparently showed where I was, yet was nowhere that I recognized.

That’s it, I’m done, I thought. I wanted to get some air. I wrote the word “air” (空氣) on the paper, but the woman didn’t seem to understand what I meant. So I just stood up and walked out. She came too, of course.

I had no idea what time it was, but it must have been pretty late. The moon had set and the sky was dark. One door of the gate had been shut, but the other was open a crack. I walked around a little, as if admiring the architecture, and then when I got close to the gate, I just took off running. The old woman shouted after me, but I was already through the gate when the two guards wheeled out of the darkness towards me. They lowered their spears to block my way, but I was too fast for them and a second later, I was running and stumbling back up the valley.

It was exhilarating to break social convention that way and just run away. Once when I was in Korean city with my cousin, a man came up to us and wanted to guide us around. Nothing we said could make him leave and eventually we ran away as he was getting a taxi for us all. It was that same feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and relief, spiked with the fear of being followed.

I left the path to avoid being caught again and started blundering blindly through the underbrush. That place may not have been in Korea, but it sure had the same amount of thorns on every living thing. My jacket was torn and my hands were scratched and bleeding before I had gone very far.

I was out there a long time, maybe hours. All I know was the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east when I came out of the woods and found a tall fortress wall in front of me. I didn’t see the gate anywhere. I had left the path on the left side, and so I now continued left along the wall. My plan was to walk around the fortress and then back up the valley where I had come from.

I was really tired by this time. I hadn’t slept all night and the last time I had eaten was when I was locked up in the room in the fortress. I kept stopping to lean against the wall and close my eyes. Maybe twenty minutes later, I came to what Koreans call an ammun, or secret gate, built into the wall. The tiny door was open and all I could see inside was darkness. I was about move on, when a lantern was uncovered and a woman stepped out of the gate.

I was about to run, when I saw that it was young woman I had seen earlier the day before; the same one who had helped to lock me up. Still, she beckoned me in and smiled so joyfully, that my legs moved on their own and followed her inside.

Just inside the gate was a small chamber, probably designed for guards. There was food and water there, as well as a bed. I had a drink of water, but before I knew it, my eyes were closing and I couldn’t keep them open. The girl saw this and helped me lie down on the bed and covered me with a blanket. Within a minute, I had drifted off to sleep.

I know I usually draw pictures, but I didn't have time this week. This is a secret gate close to what it looked like.

I know I usually draw pictures, but I didn’t have time this week. This is a secret gate close to what it looked like.


The Broom – Visual Fiction #19

It seemed to tremble under my hand when I first touched it in the market, which was one of the reasons I bought it. I am just a groundskeeper at an elementary school, but I take care of my tools. I buy them carefully, and use them the same way.

The more you work with tools, the more they gain personalities of their own. I can hear their voices as we work together. The high, ringing voice of the hammer; the dull mumble of the snow shovel, grumbling querulously as it bites at the icy buildup on the steps; even the acerbic snip of the pruning shears as it cuts back errant branches.

But the broom speaks softly. It whispers to me as I pull it smoothly over the brick path. In the fall, I hear it speaking every day, murmuring softly to the fallen gingko leaves as it pushes them into piles. It, more than any other, seems to take pleasure in the work we do together and so, when we are finished for the day, I let it rest for an hour or so in the sun as a reward for its hard work.

taken in Soyang, Korea

taken in Soyang, Korea


Edward and Hestia

This is part of my post-apocalyptic Aftermath series. The previous story was Voices from the Past. Here is the Aftermath Glossary.

 

“It looks like you’ve been through an ash heap or two since I saw you last,” Hestia said. “I guess we all have.”

Despite what she said, Edward could not see that the last seventeen years had touched her much at all. She was older, of course. Her hair was touched with silver and a few wrinkles had sprung up in the corners of her eyes, but overall she had passed through the poisonous world unscathed.

“You know each other?” Blake asked in surprise.

“We met once,” Edward said. “Look,” he said, turning back to Hestia, “I’m not looking for anything for myself. You took some kids for me before; now I’m asking if you can again. I have one named Sean who’s in the hospital here. Just give him a good home and I’ll get the hell out of here.”

Hestia gave a small smile. “Hell,” she repeated softly

“What?”

“You said hell. I just wondered what you meant by it.”

“I—I don’t know, I just said it. What does it matter?” He felt a flash of anger.

“I was just wondering because most people in here consider out there to be more or less a literal Hell. They would do anything not to go out there and the people out there would do anything to get in here. So why the hell do you want to go back out so badly?”

“I can survive out there. It’s where I belong. I’m in control there.”

“Ah, ‘better to rule in Hell’ and all that.” Hestia sat down and motioned them to chairs. Blake sat down but Edward didn’t move. “I’m curious, Eddie—”

“Squid.”

“Squid? Really?” She shrugged. “I’m curious, Squid, what you’ve seen out there. What’s the world like?”

“You know what it’s like,” he said. “You said it yourself. Everything is sickly and twisted. Food is scarce. Everybody is hungry. Everybody suffers.”

“Except you.”

“Even me! But what’s the alternative? Live in here where everyone tiptoes around in fear of losing their position.” He would not tell her, but a small part of him wanted to stay—longed for that safety and security. Still, he could not do it. A bird that had been freed and lived in the open forest could not voluntarily step back into the cage, no matter have much gilt was put on the bars.

“You know,” Hestia said, “the right to murder and steal is not as precious in a place where no one is your enemy and everything you desire is freely given. But let me tell you about the world outside. Cambridge is the solitary island of civilization in England, but we are branching out. We even have a seaport now in Great Yarmouth and a rail line connecting us. It was the closest port we could find.”

“Was Ipswich destroyed?” Edward asked. “That would be closer.”

Blake made a noise of exclamation and Hestia stared at him. “Are you making fun, Squid, or have you really been that isolated from things down there in your scuttle-hole?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, that Ipswich is the antithesis of civilization now,” Hestia said. “It’s a seething den of crime and piracy and every terrible thing you could conceive. They are our main enemy, since they are the only ones that send targeted attacks against our supply lines.”

“I didn’t know,” Edward said. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Part of him wanted to go there, to test himself against a whole city of the worst villains and thieves, but part of him didn’t want the competition. He enjoyed being the top dog.

“We have a few mines and a small refinery,” Hestia continued, “although a lot of what we get is still through salvage. That’s my job here. As Minister of the Exterior, I send out people to find things and bring back the best. Blake works for me sometimes, finding robots.”

“And that’s what you want me to do, to go find stuff and bring it back.” Edward thought of the chren mining that Hinsen had tried to get him to do and suppressed a shudder.

“That’s the idea,” she said. “Listen: what you’ve got here is a golden chance. We don’t pull molerats—outsiders—in and offer them jobs very often. Actually, never. But you’re here and at least I’ve met you before; someone who attracts little kids like a magnet and tries to find them good homes can’t be a total blacksoul. So, here’s the deal. We’ll give you a house here—you don’t have to live in it if you don’t want—and the boy can stay here. You can spend most of your time outside and do whatever you want, as long as you bring me some good stuff every now and then. If you ever want something more, let me know.”

“What the alternative?”

Hestia waved her hand carelessly. “Take the boy and leave. But if you do, my offer won’t be renewed and you won’t get back in. I’m too busy for that.”

“What do you need me to find?” Edward asked and Hestia smiled.

There was a buzz and Blake took out his e-device and looked at the screen. “The hospital says the boy is awake.”

“You mean Sean?” Edward asked.

“He says his name is Damian. And he is asking for you.”

hospital bed 2


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