Daily writing prompts from June 9th, 2008 to December 31st, 2022
Sunday October 9th, 2022
The exercise:
Write about: gratitude.
Had a small Thanksgiving celebration here today. The main event will be next weekend in Osoyoos, as Kat's parents are still busy picking apples this weekend with the weather this year delaying the final harvest.
I hadn't realised we were up to Thanksgiving already! I hope it was a fun celebration and that the bigger one is at least as much fun :)
Gratitude Drone cars soared between the towering spires of the buildings of Sedakine-8, stubby wings providing manoeuvrability and anti-grav plates providing the lift. They whirled about in a dance, all taking guidance from the air-traffic control system at Lindower, which was run primarily by AI. Grey-blue clouds were starting to gather, blown in by a wind coming over the Crendall wastes and here and there rain was starting to fall over the city. The city was barely a square kilometre in surface footprint and reached three kilometres into the air. Building at ground level supported huge platforms on which the next layer of buildings were built and it pyramided its way upwards like a wedding cake of many tiers until the top was reached and the glittering steel and sapphire spires of the elite housing. Down at the bottom, where daylight was a rarity and the native flora and fauna of Sedakine-8 waged constant war against the inhabitants of Lindower, there was little to be grateful for. A constant smell like diesel fumes mixed with mildew permeated everything: the walls, the decaying plasticrete walkways, the street-food shops that served to provide nourishment for just about everyone down here. The maintenance crews stalked through, stony-faced and blinkered, carefully ignoring the homeless and the criminal, neither of whom were supposed to be down here. Walkways were torn up and replaced as though they were empty and the indigents scattered like cockroaches when disturbed, returning hours or days later to their spot and setting up camp again. A kind of constant drizzle fell down here, the result of warm air from the heavy engines that provided power to all of Lindower being trapped by the cooler air from the better living accommodation above and its trapped moisture condensing and trickling and drizzling back down. Stendall, still new to the Murkwater gang, shuffled his feet in his shiny black shoes that he was desperately trying to keep out of the puddles, mud, and lice-holes, shrugged his shoulders inside his shiny black suit that had cost nearly everything he had left in his bank account, and tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. Lividia, his gang-boss, had told Stendall and Cotelleta to stand watch outside a non-descript door while Lividia and three others went inside. Cotelleta was leaning against against the wall running a finger through her hair -- shoulder-length brunette curls that framed a pixie face with six or seven scars that twisted across her jaw and mouth -- and looking remarkably bored.
"Calm down," she said, glancing over at Stendall. "There's nothing to do down here." Stendall gestured towards the end of the street where a maintenance crew was setting up the machines that tore up the walkway and replaced it. "They might come down here." "They won't," said Coteletta. "We checked their schedule already. They're going along the way up there and then heading up towards Undergroop." "Oh," said Stendall. "We can do that?" Cotelleta laughed, but it was a bitter, harsh sound like a bird out of the Crendall wastes. "Anyone can," she said. "You're green aren't you?" "Stendall," said Stendall, offering his hand automatically. She laughed again. "Green. New. An idiot, in other words." Stendall pulled his hand back hesitantly. "Uh...," he said, not sure what to say. "Fine. Look, Lividia is trying, again to get into a substation. She thinks if she can get in there she can demand a ransom from the city to turn it back over to them. She's stupid too, but in a different way." "How do you know this?" Stendall felt hot and cold at the same time, wondering if he should be asking questions and reporting all this to Lividia. She should know that her team weren't all on her side. "Because that's her plan," said Coteletta heavily. "That's what she's told us, time and again. She wants to ransom a substation back to the city. Only, and we've all told her this time and again, there's no way in to a substation. They're too well protected. Which makes sense, if you stop and think about it -- if they weren't, everyone would be doing it and LIndower would be a ruin already. But she won't listen, and people who won't listen are stupid." She paused and looked at him. "You seem to be listening though. So maybe you're getting less green." The rain suddenly increased, pattering down through a maze of wire, columns, concrete blocks and steel lines, splashing on the black plasticrete walkway and making Stendall shiver. The door they were watching opened and a face smeared black with something that looked sticky poked out and looked around, as though checking there were only the two of them out there. "Lividia's dead," it said, sounding choked. "She forced the gate open and there was... something waiting for her insi--" The face dipped as the owner fell forward out of the doorway, revealing huge slashes in their back, running from shoulder to thigh and deep enough to push fingers into. "Run," said Coteletta, "and be grateful that that's not us."
Greg - both celebrations were good, in their own ways.
Now I'm sitting here typing this looking out at a snow-covered backyard and wondering how the weather has changed so dreadfully quickly.
The establishment of the setting in the first part is fantastic. I want more stories set here. All the stories. So much possibility!
I will also settle for this particular story being continued, while also acknowledging that I am so far behind on comments that if you haven't done so already I'm probably much too late to be asking for it :)
3 comments:
I hadn't realised we were up to Thanksgiving already! I hope it was a fun celebration and that the bigger one is at least as much fun :)
Gratitude
Drone cars soared between the towering spires of the buildings of Sedakine-8, stubby wings providing manoeuvrability and anti-grav plates providing the lift. They whirled about in a dance, all taking guidance from the air-traffic control system at Lindower, which was run primarily by AI. Grey-blue clouds were starting to gather, blown in by a wind coming over the Crendall wastes and here and there rain was starting to fall over the city.
The city was barely a square kilometre in surface footprint and reached three kilometres into the air. Building at ground level supported huge platforms on which the next layer of buildings were built and it pyramided its way upwards like a wedding cake of many tiers until the top was reached and the glittering steel and sapphire spires of the elite housing.
Down at the bottom, where daylight was a rarity and the native flora and fauna of Sedakine-8 waged constant war against the inhabitants of Lindower, there was little to be grateful for. A constant smell like diesel fumes mixed with mildew permeated everything: the walls, the decaying plasticrete walkways, the street-food shops that served to provide nourishment for just about everyone down here. The maintenance crews stalked through, stony-faced and blinkered, carefully ignoring the homeless and the criminal, neither of whom were supposed to be down here. Walkways were torn up and replaced as though they were empty and the indigents scattered like cockroaches when disturbed, returning hours or days later to their spot and setting up camp again. A kind of constant drizzle fell down here, the result of warm air from the heavy engines that provided power to all of Lindower being trapped by the cooler air from the better living accommodation above and its trapped moisture condensing and trickling and drizzling back down.
Stendall, still new to the Murkwater gang, shuffled his feet in his shiny black shoes that he was desperately trying to keep out of the puddles, mud, and lice-holes, shrugged his shoulders inside his shiny black suit that had cost nearly everything he had left in his bank account, and tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. Lividia, his gang-boss, had told Stendall and Cotelleta to stand watch outside a non-descript door while Lividia and three others went inside. Cotelleta was leaning against against the wall running a finger through her hair -- shoulder-length brunette curls that framed a pixie face with six or seven scars that twisted across her jaw and mouth -- and looking remarkably bored.
"Calm down," she said, glancing over at Stendall. "There's nothing to do down here."
Stendall gestured towards the end of the street where a maintenance crew was setting up the machines that tore up the walkway and replaced it. "They might come down here."
"They won't," said Coteletta. "We checked their schedule already. They're going along the way up there and then heading up towards Undergroop."
"Oh," said Stendall. "We can do that?"
Cotelleta laughed, but it was a bitter, harsh sound like a bird out of the Crendall wastes. "Anyone can," she said. "You're green aren't you?"
"Stendall," said Stendall, offering his hand automatically. She laughed again.
"Green. New. An idiot, in other words."
Stendall pulled his hand back hesitantly. "Uh...," he said, not sure what to say.
"Fine. Look, Lividia is trying, again to get into a substation. She thinks if she can get in there she can demand a ransom from the city to turn it back over to them. She's stupid too, but in a different way."
"How do you know this?" Stendall felt hot and cold at the same time, wondering if he should be asking questions and reporting all this to Lividia. She should know that her team weren't all on her side.
"Because that's her plan," said Coteletta heavily. "That's what she's told us, time and again. She wants to ransom a substation back to the city. Only, and we've all told her this time and again, there's no way in to a substation. They're too well protected. Which makes sense, if you stop and think about it -- if they weren't, everyone would be doing it and LIndower would be a ruin already. But she won't listen, and people who won't listen are stupid." She paused and looked at him. "You seem to be listening though. So maybe you're getting less green."
The rain suddenly increased, pattering down through a maze of wire, columns, concrete blocks and steel lines, splashing on the black plasticrete walkway and making Stendall shiver. The door they were watching opened and a face smeared black with something that looked sticky poked out and looked around, as though checking there were only the two of them out there.
"Lividia's dead," it said, sounding choked. "She forced the gate open and there was... something waiting for her insi--"
The face dipped as the owner fell forward out of the doorway, revealing huge slashes in their back, running from shoulder to thigh and deep enough to push fingers into.
"Run," said Coteletta, "and be grateful that that's not us."
Greg - both celebrations were good, in their own ways.
Now I'm sitting here typing this looking out at a snow-covered backyard and wondering how the weather has changed so dreadfully quickly.
The establishment of the setting in the first part is fantastic. I want more stories set here. All the stories. So much possibility!
I will also settle for this particular story being continued, while also acknowledging that I am so far behind on comments that if you haven't done so already I'm probably much too late to be asking for it :)
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