Thursday July 16th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about something that is: faint.

Something which is very definitely not faint for me is something that happened ten years ago today: I met Kat for the first time. I know I've said that with our wedding anniversary at the end of this month (woo, 5 years!) I didn't plan on celebrating both dates, but this one felt a little special.

I managed to sneak into town this afternoon to buy her flowers and I also wrote her a poem. Max helped pick out the flowers but did not assist with the poem.

I mulched a lot of strawberry plants this morning, and also sowed our second planting of our buckwheat cover crop in the section of the garden that we will be using next summer. If all goes well we should be able to do that one more time this season, in order to build up the soil as much as possible.

I also got Rebecca started on cleaning up the garlic, so it's good to know that is being worked on while I'm busy with other things.

Now to get my writing done before it gets to the falling asleep on the couch time of night.

Also: I'm hideously behind on replying to comments yet again. Sorry.

Mine:

The markings are faint but clear - if you know what you're looking for. And I do. Obviously. Or I wouldn't have seen them, right? Right.

Right.

I don't know if anyone else has spotted them. At this point I have to assume I'm the only one. Otherwise they would have gone public already and it would be all over the news. Right?

Yeah.

Well, I guess the only one isn't entirely accurate. More like the only one who doesn't work for the government. Because they have to know about this. I'm just surprised this bit of evidence was allowed to slip through the cracks and into the public eye where anybody can see it.

Well, not just anybody.

So. I've seen it. I know the truth. What do I do now? What's my next move, the one that guarantees that word gets out, in a believable manner, without getting myself killed in the process? Because, you know, keeping myself alive to enjoy the aftereffects of my work is kind of important to me.

The truth, though. That's important too. People need to know. They need to see what the government has been hiding from us. A truth this big cannot remain hidden forever and now it is time for this one to be unveiled. The evidence is out there for all to see, all I have to do is point it out.

And then the whole world will know that there is something alive, something intelligent on Pluto.

And then we, as a species, can decide what we need to do about it.

4 comments:

Greg said...

An anniversary should be celebrated because it means something to you, not pushed aside because it's too close to another, so I think you did the right thing: this clearly means a lot to you :) It's also why I don't have birthdays most years (although another aspect of that is that birthdays cause wrinkles and I'm terribly, terribly vain).
As for comments: well, I just thought I'd offended you horribly somehow :-P
Hmm, would today's story have been inspired by the recent events with New Horizons? I like your narrator's confidence and how he works up to his conclusion from some fairly reasonable premises, I'm almost with him in believing that events on Pluto are being covered up back here on earth.

Faint
"What... what happened there? I feel like someone turned me off and back on again."
"Just stay calm, Mr. Phillips. You fainted, that's all." He's going to figure out he didn't pretty quickly when he finds the first set of burn marks on his chest, where the taser hit him. The second set, at either end of his pacemaker scar are going to confuse the issue though, because he'll probably never guess that I had to attach a car battery there with jump leads to get the damn device going again. It's lucky they build them to be pretty robust really, if it had melted in his chest there'd had been no hope for him.
"Did some... Are there... What's a... wibble?"
"You told me you were just telling me about Wolfe, Mr. Phillips," I say. I'm trying hard not to sound angry, but I'm very angry. Almost angry enough to tase him again if I'm honest. "I rather think you'd already approached him. Met him. Made... arrangements."
"Blerk." He rolls over onto his side and vomits. I stand back, I'd rather not get my hooded red cape any dirtier than I have to, and there are scorch-marks on the cuffs already.
"Eloquent," I say, and realise that I'm tapping my foot. "Wolfe hit us, Mr. Phillips." I still can't control the convulsive shudder when i have to say his name. "I think he intended to kill everyone, but he probably wasn't expecting you to have told me about him yet. That was either genius on your part, or a richer vein of stupidity than I'd previously suspected."
"He knew about my mother," says Mr. Phillips.
"So does half of the criminal underworld," I say. "You're the only one with delusions of saintliness where she's concerned."
"Bler." He vomits again.
"I'm going, Mr. Phillips," I say. "I'll be leaving some evidence as to where I've gone; faint evidence, stuff you'll have to hunt to find. But Wolfe will hunt and he will find. And I will have to deal." I pull the taser out and consider shooting him again, and then decide that there was no point resurrecting him only to kill him a second time. "I suggest you faint again," I say. "Wolfe may just come back to clean up."

morganna said...

Feeling
A little
Incoherent, perhaps
Not quite all
There.

ivybennet said...

His voice was no more the roaring thunderstorm it had been right after his death. I used to hear him professing his love for me in the middle of the night. I could still hear every confession he had made to me, as if he was lying beside me, his fingers twirling their way into my hair.
But as of late, his voice has lost its strength. No more can I clearly hear him speak my name. The thundering timbre is now only a whisper caressing my cheek like the faintest gust of wind. Where I used to fall asleep listening to his protestations, I now stay awake throughout the night, fighting my memory to give me even a glimpse of his deep chocolate voice.
Why must time be so cruel as to heal the wound slightly only to snatch away the very sutures that were holding you together?

Marc said...

Greg - no, no offense. I'm just a combination of lazy and tired and rushed for time. The only reason I'm catching up now is because I'm taking it easy this morning after yesterday's harvest and market.

Ooh, a connection with your earlier Red Riding Hood post! I like this muchly. The world they live in is developing nicely - now we just have to meet Mr. Wolfe!

Morganna - that is a fantastic acrostic. Minimalist in the best possible way. This is definitely one of my favorites from you :)

Ivy - this is really beautiful. Some really great imagery and descriptions and emotions. Very impressed :)