January*

She was a January girl
She never let on how insane it was
In the tiny, kinda scary house
By the woods, by the woods, by the woods, by the woods

--Tori Amos, "Black Dove" from the album From the Choirgirl Hotel

My birthday is dangerously close to the New Year. In fact, my mother began a long, difficult labor while helping to clear New Year's Day dinner. I have the scar from the forceps to prove it.

I sometimes wonder if those of us born during the long dark can ever really shake the memory of winter shadows welcoming us into the world. Tori Amos sings, "she was January girl." Yes, I think I know what she means.



A Meme

Since blogland is slow for the holiday season, I thought those of us around should do something fun. There are memes out there which ask you reveal various things about yourself, but I'd like to start a "Questions from the Audience Meme." Is there anything you want to know or ask? Drop a question in the comments, and I will answer on Monday. As long as it's not utterly compromising, anything goes!

(*I have to give my normal northern hemisphere disclaimer here. For my friends south of the equator, I suppose the title of this post should be "July.")

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you and everyone you love a Merry Christmas!

Have wonderful day,

--Jason

Solstice

Stars
pinprick
the enormity of night
circling
deep
the Earth-wearied north

miles
endless
I kneel
and silence
hardens the ground
where I sleep

White Rooms, Part 8, Final (Serial Fiction, Thriller)

(Just joining us? Go back to Part 1)

Day 13, 8:30 A.M.

      The Auditor entered Black Room #12. He stood over the men from White Rooms, G-pod.
      The insertion was a bit sloppy on MT1023, but tolerable. Encased in the plexiglass tube, he breathed perfect, measured breaths. At least the gel around him solidified evenly.
      The Auditor checked feeding tubes, catheters, leads, and intravenous lines. Soon, they would taper the anesthesia.
      The Auditor signaled, and a hatch re-appeared in the depthless black. On the monitors, four stasis tubes radiated from the center of the room like a cross.
      The men within them slept.

1:32 P.M.

      Eyes fluttered open. Groggy.
      Rock blinked, trying to focus. The only light in the room glowed around him.
      The four men appeared to float in nothingness.

2:11 P.M.

      "Wha...? I can't.... Where's the...."
      Sea had trouble shaking the anesthesia. He was last to wake.
      "Hey. Relax over there."
      "I.... I can't...."
      "We're all here," Rock said. "Behind you. Behind your head."
      "I can't move."
      "I know. We're stuck."
      "What? I can't...."
      "Stop struggling. It's pointless."
      "Hmmmmmmph!"
      "Whoa! Stop it!"
      "... h-h-hard to breathe."
      "Easy! Easy! You're going to hurt yourself!"
      Sea's head beat against the prison. "I'm CLAUSTROPHOBIC!"
      "Oh, shit. This guy is losing it!"
      Sea grimaced and fought.
      "Stop your damn screaming!"
      "GET ME OUT!" Sea cried.
      Flame rocked his head from side to side and tried to focus. Sky's face was scrunched, like someone pounded inside his head.
      "Shut him up, Goddamn it! SHUT HIM THE HELL UP!"

2:31 P.M.

      "Are you okay?"
      "I threw up," Sea groaned.
      "Just try to take some deep breaths, okay?"

Day 14, 12:43 A.M.

      "Rock?"
      "Yeah."
      "I think I'm going to the bathroom."
      "That's the catheter."
      "Catheter?"
      "Yeah. You know. They thread it up into your bladder. I felt mine a couple hours ago."
      Silence.
      "Oh."

Day 15, 3:20 P.M.

      "Rock?"
      "Yeah."
      "You want to hear something weird?"
      "Sure."
      "I feel pretty damn good."
      "I guess a day in bed will do that to you."
      "No, I mean my body. I feel stronger. I don't feel hungry."
      "Yeah. I think they're feeding us."
      "Really? Intravenous?"
      "No. I saw that one of those tubes from the floor is bigger than the others. And it's white. Looks like a feeding tube to me. I'm guessing it's implanted directly into our stomachs."
      "I wonder what it tastes like."
      "Who cares."
      "I don't know. I was just wondering."

Day 17, 7:56 A.M.

      "I'm pretty tired," Flame said. "Anyone else?"
      "A little," Sky said.
      "Should we sleep?"
      "Fine with me," Rock said.
      "How long?"
      Rock laughed.
      "I mean a long time or a short time?"
      "Let's make it long."
      "Okay."
      "See you all in the morning."
      They wiggled a little to pretend to get comfortable.
      "Rock?"
      "Yeah."
      "I can really feel my heart beating. I can hear it when it's quiet."
      "I know," Rock said. "Try not to listen."

Day 18, 1:44 P.M.

      "It's your turn."
      Sky sighed. "Oh, I can't think of anything."
      "But it's your turn."
      "Don't worry. I've got a story," Sea said. "I'll tell you about the time my father and I went fishing."
      "Don't leave anything out."
      Sea laughed. "I won't. I'll even throw in some fish."
      "Mmmm. Fish."

Day 19, 4:03 A.M.

      "What's that you're humming?"
      "I don't know. I made it up, I think."

Day 20, 12:19 P.M.

      "Rock?"

1:47 P.M.

      "Yes?"

Day 21, Midnight

      The men laid in silence. Some eyes stared, and others were tucked closed. No one moved.
      The Auditor rose into the intersection of the cross. No one noticed him.
      "Gentlemen," he said.
      The tubes lurched and began to tip upward.
      Gasps and confusion filled the room.
      The tubes angled towards standing, and when the men were vertical, they rotated. The black-robed figure of the Auditor twisted into their view.
      A white mask stared out in each of the four directions.
      "Gentlemen," he said again. His voice was clipped and quick. "You must listen. You must comprehend. Comply."
      "Who are you?" Rock said.
      "Sky," the Auditor said, ignoring the question. "What is the nature of the sky?"
      "What?" Sky asked.
      "Wrong. Your partner will pay."
      "Ow! Ow!" Sea shouted. He stood across from Sky. Terrified eyes glared down. Sky could not see what was hurting him. The tubes were black from the knees down.
      The Auditor spun towards Sea. The mask facing Sky now had red eyes. "You must listen. You must comprehend. Comply."
      Sea gulped two breaths. "You cut me! You cut my leg!"
      "Sea. You are bird. How do you fly?"
      Sea gaped.
      "Wrong."
      "Ahhh!" Sky screamed. "Stop! Stop it!"
      The Auditor spun toward Rock. The red eyes now glared at Flame.
      "Rock, a frog dies. Why?"
      "Who ARE you?"
      "Wrong."
      Flame shook in his tube.
      "There's a blade down there!" Sky yelled. "I feel the blood running down my leg!"
      The Auditor spun. "Sea, I'm falling. Where will I land?"
      "No! Not again!" Sky said to the red eyes.
      "I don't know," Sea whimpered.
      "Wrong."
      Sky screamed again. "It's cutting off my LEG!"
      The Auditor spun.
      "Flame, are you going to die?"
      Flame gagged as if he were going to vomit.
      "Wrong."
      Rock winced and smashed his head into the back of the tube. Veins bulged.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Sky."
      Sea wailed when he saw red eyes.
      "Stop this!" Sky begged. " I don't understand!"
      "How high is a cloud?"
      "Two miles!"
      "Wrong."
      "Gaaaaa!" Sky screeched.
      The Auditor spun. The red eyes hit Rock.
      "Flame, is Rock going to die?"
      Flame retched, but nothing spilled.
      "Wrong."
      "Noooo!" Rock growled. His eyes blinked and blinked. Tears streamed.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Rock."
      "Fuck you!"
      "Wrong."
      Flame screamed words without form. Rock's tears shook loose from his eyes before they flowed. "Leave him alone!"
      The Auditor spun.
      "Sea. How deep will you go?"
      "I-I-I'll go."
      "Wrong."
      A tiny crack echoed in the room. Sky howled raw.
      "You're breaking his leg!" Sea cried.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Flame. If you kill him, you will go."
      Flame snuffled through his tears.
      "Wrong."
      Another crack snapped in Rock's direction. His mouth stretched wide, but no sound clawed out.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Sea. Will you kill him?"
      "I.... I...."
      "Wrong."
      Sky's cries split the air.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Rock. Kill him. You will be free."
      Rock spit. The phlegm splattered into the floor.
      "Wrong."
      Flame's bellowing couldn't erase an even louder crunch. He gurgled and coughed.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Sea."
      "No!"
      "Sea."
      "No! DO IT TO ME! DO IT ME!"
      The Auditor spun.
      "Sky. Sea would not answer. Kill him or die."
      Sky stared across the room. Sea puffed and puffed. The man was kneeling at the feet of death.
      "You want my leg? TAKE IT! I fucking give it to you! Let me bleed to death you fucking piece of SHIT!"
      Both Sea and Sky went rigid as the blades bit.
      The Auditor spun.
      "Flame."
      The Auditor spun.
      "Rock. One of you will live. The other will die. Speak!"
      The Auditor spun.
      "Flame!"
      Quivering lips clamped. Faces glistened wet with sweat and saliva.
      "Speak!"
      Blades sank into Flame and Rock.
      "Speak!"
      No words through the weeping.
      "SPEAK!"
      Gasping and strangled pain.
      The Auditor waited. Seconds slid slow over rocketing hearts.
      "No one will live?" he whispered. "No one at all?"
      No one spoke.
      The Auditor raised his hands. Blood-red gloves fired in the light. "Execute!"
      Explosive charges in the tubes pop, pop, popped. They split, spilling the men onto the floor. The restraining gel tore into chunks and jiggled on the floor.
      The men grasped at their legs.
      No blood.
      No cloven bone.
      Just a halo of electrodes implanted deep in their skin. And a small wound where a tracking implant had been placed.
      Above the three stitches, a tiny number was tattooed.
      10045.
      10046.
      10047.
      10048.
      Serial numbers.
      "You are born," the Auditor said.

4 Months, 7 Days, 18 Hours, 4 Minutes After Birth

      WT1103 shuffled from the elevator across the deepest deck of the parking garage. His trench coat flapped, tangling in his brief case.
      A black employee wished him a good night, but he did not answer. When he passed, his face scowled as if he tasted something foul.
      The man formerly known as MT1023 watched from a dark-tinted car window. He spoke into a concealed microphone.
      "Positive identification on White Target 1103."
      "Roger. Visual on target," a voice answered. "Prepare for target to enter 16th street."
      "Roger. Relay to forward team. Target is leaving work."
      Across the city in the darkening suburbs, two agents monitored WT1103's home.
      "Confirm extraction and rendering tonight, zero three hundred hours."
      "Extraction confirmed."
      MT1023 started the car and follow the target up to street level. He smiled.
      This target would spread no more of his hate.
      And once again, their numbers would grow.


Go back to Part 7.

Twas the Night Before Christmas (and some dude showed up)

The year was 1971, and I was one year old. My parents arranged for Santa to pay a surprise visit to the house. (Or was it John Lennon? Check out the groovy glasses!)

Come on in for a minute. I'll take your coat. We're getting hammered. (Yeah, you gotta love those toy workbenches.)

And I even have jammies with the feet! Nice and toasty.

Hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season.


(Captured from old Super 8 home movies. Music: "The Holly and the Ivy," recorded by me.)

White Rooms, Part 7 (Serial Fiction, Thriller)

(Just joining us? Go back to Part 1)

(Reminder: MT1023=Sky, JT1023=Rock, MT1024=Flame, JT1024=Sea)

Day 11, 4:45 P.M.

      Flame banged on the wall. His fingers scratched the smoothness and searched for a seam. "No! No! No!"
      "I don't believe it," Rock said.
      "We still had food in there!"
      "We saved a little too," Sky said, pointing to the other blank wall where his room used to be. "But it was in there."
      "What did they mean by designations?" Flame asked.
      Rock stood over the sink where 'MT1023' was still scrawled. He wiped away the ink with his sleeve, but a shadowy stain remained. "Names. We have new names."
      "Names? What did they say mine was?"
      "I only heard mine," Sky said.
      "Good God! Listen!" Rock said. He pointed to one after the other. "Sky, Flame, Sea. I'm Rock. I don't think you want to screw them up." He dropped his arm down to where the implant hung between their legs.
      They nodded. Flame repeated his name silently.
      "These people must think they're pretty fucking funny."
      "Why?"
      "Don't you get it? The four ancient elements. Air, earth, fire, and water."
      "What am I again?"
      "Sea! Now remember it!"
      "Stop shouting," Flame said. "Leave him alone."
      "Shut up."
      "I can't think."
      "Shut up!"
      Flame squared himself up against Rock at the sink.
      "You don't talk to me like that."
      "I just did."
      "You won't again."
      Sky lurched forward. "Stop it!"
      Flame breathed into Rock's face. Rock shoved him backward.
      Sky headed off Flame as he recovered. "Stop. Don't."
      "Or what?" Rock taunted.
      Sky leveled a rigid finger between Rock's eyes. "Back off."
      "Are you threatening me?"
      "How are we going to get off the freezing floor?" Sea asked, still confused. His arms were wrapped around himself.
      "Are you both going to jump me?" Rock said. "That's your style, isn't it?"
      "What do you mean by that?" Flame growled.
      "You figure it out."
      "No, I want to hear it from you. But you won't say it, because you're a coward. That's your style, isn't it?"
      "Both of you! Back off!" Sky said.
      "Yo! Lost at Sea! How about some help over here?"
      Nine columns of water made no sound as they piled down from the unseen heights. They hit the floor and detonated in all directions. One hit Rock in the back and knocked him to his knees. Sky and Flame were walloped with spray.
      Sea jumped back from the smashing flood and slipped. Fountains of water showered over him.
      "Oh my God!"
      "What is it?"
      The torrent clattered into the wash already spreading across the floor.
      "They're going to drown us!"
      "We have to stop it!"
      "Get me out of here! Let me out!"
      Sky splashed over and helped Sea back onto his feet. Flame steadied Rock who tore himself from the rush. His hair streamed water down his face.
      They shouted over the noise.
      "What can we do?"
      "I can't even see where it's coming from."
      They pressed along the walls away from the roar.
      Rock stared down. The level already rippled around his ankles.
      "At least we won't suffer long. It's rising fast."

4:57 P.M.

      The gushing ended with one last slap on the water. Torrents feathered to trickles.
      Dripping.
      Dripping.
      The four men gaped with panicked and panting faces.
      The surface calmed. A perfect sheet of waving glass rocked along the sharp corners of the room.
      Reflections of half men painted the water.

8:03 P.M.

      Rock frowned. "Do you feel that?"
      "What?"
      "I wasn't sure for a while, but I definitely notice it now. The water is warm up here, but cold around my feet. Really cold."
      "Yeah, I feel it too."
      "My skin is so wrinkled it feels like I'm a thousand years old."
      Rock swished his foot along the bottom. "Those bastards."
      Sky frowned. "What's wrong?"
      "The Goddamn floor. That's what they're doing."
      "What? The cold?"
      "Hell yes, the cold! You know what's going to happen to us as this water gets cold?"
      "Hypothermia."
      "You got it. Water is way different than air. It doesn't have to be very cold to kill you. And something tells me this is going to get mighty cold."
      "Shit."
      "Look," Rock said. "We have to get away from the floor. The cold water will stay down. It'll take time to reach the top if we don't disturb it."
      "And how are we going to do that?"
      Rock searched. Everything was submerged.
      "We only have two options. One person can use the sink. The rest have to the use bed."
      "The bed is a foot underwater."
      "It's better than nothing. At least it's easy to stand on."
      "We can't stand on the sink."
      "Sure you can. Not very comfortably, but you can," Rock said. "I'll take it. For now, I'll just sit on the edge."
      Sea's posture sank. His voice sounded hollow. "Maybe we should just lay down in the water and drown."
      "That's an option."
      "I'm so tired."
      "Come on, quit the crap. Let's get to it. My feet are already getting numb."

Day 12, 3:32 A.M.

      "Whoa! Catch him!"
      Sea swayed, then splashed to his knee. Sky grabbed for him.
      "Get up! Get up!"
      He pulled, but instead of hauling him, Sea's drooping weight pitched off the side of the bed. Water curled up to the man's neck.
      Sky jumped down through the frigid layers.
      "Get him out of there!" Rock shouted from the sink, high above the worst cold.
      Sky's muscles strained, but he couldn't move the man. Sea stared upward, his complexion becoming strangely clear.
      Rock jumped down. Flame followed.
      Chattering, they all managed to heave Sea onto the bed and prop him on his knees.
      "Put him in the middle," Rock said. "Come on, everyone lean in. Huddle. We need to share our heat."
      Sea coughed, but not hard enough clear his lungs. His chest wheezed.
      Rock moved his hand from the group embrace and cracked him hard on the check.
      "Wake up man! Stay with us!"
      Sea blinked.
      Slowly.
      The infrared monitors no longer registered red or yellow in the four men. Their bodies blossomed cold, cold tones.

11:01 A.M.

      No movement other than thin breaths registered. The bodies propped each other up like a house of cards.
      High overhead in the blinding light, a rumbling noise descended. The Auditor peered through the metal lattice under his feet. The lift eased down into White Room G2.
      The machinery clanked. Gates opened, and the recovery team jumped the remaining distance into the water. Light glared off their wetsuits as they pried the unconscious men apart.
      Harnesses clicked tight, and the team remained behind to drain the water and reset the room. The Auditor signaled, and the lift hummed upward.
      Four dangling men ascended into the light.


On to Part 8.
Go back to Part 6.

White Rooms, Part 6 (Serial Fiction, Thriller)

(Just joining us? Go back to Part 1)

Day 11, 4:43 P.M.

      "What are you doing?" JT1023 whispered.
      MT1023 chopped the air for silence.
      He slid another step toward the new doorway. Nothing but white glowed on the other side.
      "Careful!"
      He halted mid-stride.
      "Did you hear that?" MT1023 hissed.
      "Yes. Voices."
      MT1023 nodded.
      "Come back."
      But MT1023 stood his ground.
      A shape eased around the edge of the threshold. A face.
      It saw, then pulled back out of sight.
      MT1023 waved for JT1023 to come forward. "Hurry!"
      Now, two faces appeared. Staring.
      Two against two.
      "Who are you?" one demanded from behind the protection of the wall. His dark hair drank the light like shadows.
      MT1023 frowned. "Prisoners," he said. "Like you. Come out, slowly."
      The other men did not move. MT1023 advanced with his hands open and harmless. "How long have you been here?"
      "We don't know," the man said. "A long time."
      "We don't know either."
      MT1023 drifted toward the man who speaking. "What is your name?"
      The man swallowed hard. He glanced at his fellow prisoner. "MT1024," he said. "It's printed on the bottom of my foot. It's my name now."
      MT1023's eyes widened. "I am MT1023."
      "I don't understand."
      "You," MT1023 said, turning to the other man. " I don't suppose you're JT1024?"
      "Yes!"
      "This is JT1023."
      "I think understand," JT1023 said, approaching. "You're Jewish?"
      "Yes."
      "So am I. The 'J' and 'M' in our names. Jewish and Muslim. What the T stands for, I don't know."
      "And the number?"
      "Not sure. Just something to make it unique maybe."
      MT1024 blinked back his watery eyes and jumped forward to shake MT1023's hand.
      "But our numbers are one after the other," JT1024 said. "Do you think--"
      JT1023 shook his head. "No. I don't want to think about that."
      "But that would mean there's been more than a thousand of us. And more than a thousand of them?" he said, motioning to the MTs.
      The observers noted the pairings, the reformation of bonds. The next stage was standing by.
      "Do you know who's holding us?" MT1023 asked.
      "No," MT1024 said. "We were taken in the night."
      "Do you know why?"
      MT1024 blanched, and MT1023 eye's locked onto what he spied there.
      The JTs were watching.
      "Do you know why you were taken?" MT1023 asked them.
      Both shook their heads in unison.
      The lights cut.
      Booming music hit them like an avalanche.
      They clutched their heads and stomachs and struggled not to vomit. Low, pulsing undertones were designed to scramble their sense of equilibrium.
      And a voice thundered.
      "Comply."
      "Muslim Target 1023. Your designation is 'sky.'"
      "Jewish Target 1023. Your designation is 'rock.'"
      "Muslim Target 1024. Your designation is 'flame.'"
      "Jewish Target 1024. Your designation is 'sea.'"
      "Comply."
      The sound ceased. The light returned.
      Four figures filled the small room. All the doors were gone.


On to Part 7.
Go back to Part 5.

Hollow Wind

Something scurried on the surface of his bones.

A chill he couldn't shake.

As the radiators clicked, he walked though curtains of heat, but they rolled off without penetrating his skin. He dipped his arms into his coat and zipped it snug.

Behind him, the storm door bounced, then slammed after a final hiss. His feet crunched the latticework of frost-sculpted dirt.

Icy wind poured down the mountainside, and he dared the currents to sweep him into the valleys. But he wasn't going anywhere. When the cold ripped away the last of the inside warmth and connected with the animal chewing his bones, he stopped.

His black hair boiled like rapids in the torrent of air.

Across the distance, a dish of sunlight splashed from a crack in the slate sky. He watched it grow, shrink, then grow again.

In that moment, he decided. He released his breath into the wind and hoped it could reach so far away.

He let it go and tried not to feel the space where it had been.

White Rooms, Part 5 (Serial Fiction, Thriller)

(Just joining us? Go back to Part 1)

Day 9, 11:51 P.M.

      "Look at you! Look at the fat on you!"
      "Fat? What fat?" MT1023 said. "You are too tall! You should be on the bottom!"
      "Try again."
      "I have two broken ribs already!"
      "Nonsense. Bend down."
      "I can't lift you!"
      "Yes you can."
      "No, I can't."
      "Try one more time."
      "No."
      "One more time."
      "No!"
      "Once more."
      MT1023 fired his hands into the air. "Enough! Do it! Make sure you break my back this time."
      "Quiet. Be steady now. Put your hands on the wall."
      "You should worry about you."
      "Exactly. Now, you must not move. Put your hands on the wall."
      "Shut up and climb!"
      JT1023 shook his head. He gripped the smaller man's shoulder and raised a foot to his hip. He rocked once, twice, then propelled himself upward.
      MT1023 winced. A knee stabbed him in the center of the back. "Ow!"
      JT1023's hands slapped the wall. He jammed his other foot and pushed. With fingers splayed, he shot toward the bag of fruit.
      But MT1023 faltered, and he wasn't well prepared to recover. JT1023's foot slid down the sudden slope, and his body came down, thrashing. Elbows and heads collided.
      The impact swatted MT1023 to the floor.
      "Get off me! Get off my leg!"
      "Quiet!"
      "Get off!"
      "Great. My head is bleeding."
      MT1023 shoved. "You idiot! Off! Off!"
      JT1023 climbed out of the tangle. "Yes, definitely bleeding."
      "Good! Are any broken bones sticking out of my skin?"
      "You should have held onto the wall like I said."
      "You should've been on the bottom!"
      "If you hadn't moved, I would've reached it."
      MT1023 waved him away. "Just get out."
      "No. We have to try again."
      "I'd rather starve. Get the hell out."
      "Now, listen--"
      "No! You listen! I'm sick of you and your condescending bullshit. Just get out."
      JT1023 shrugged. He scraped himself off the floor and walked off. He climbed onto his own bed.
      Then, the lights cut. Total darkness punched them.
      "What's going on?" MT1023 called.
      "Shhh!"
      The room monitors flipped to infrared. Neither of the rainbow heat signatures moved.
      "Do you hear something?"
      JT1023 didn't answer.
      Minutes passed. MT1023 shriveled, pulled into himself.
      "Are you there?"
      "Of course I'm here," JT1023 said. "Where would I have gone?"

Day 10, 2:32 A.M.

      Behind MT1023, the bag of fruit released from the hook and thumped onto the floor.
      MT1023's head turned in the direction of the sound. From the other room, he heard JT1023's undisturbed breathing. Asleep.

Day 10, 2:45 A.M.

      MT1023 lifted the bag from the floor and returned to bed. He heaped it on his lap. The open end was scrunched in his fists, but he did not touch the food.

Day 10, 3:11 A.M.

      "Hey!"
      On the infrared monitor, JT1023 jumped up.
      "Do you hear me? Are you awake?" MT1023 said.
      "Yes, I hear you." He sounded groggy.
      "Come here."
      "No. I like it here just fine."
      "Really, you should come."
      "Why?"
      "Because I have something for you."
      "No you don't."
      JT1023 straightened.
      "Yes, I do. It fell off the wall."
      "What?"
      "Yes. It fell."
      JT1023 scurried off the bench and felt his way. He located the doorway quickly. "Where are you?"
      "Over here."
      JT1023's hands probed in front of him. "Damn, it's dark."
      "Keep coming. Right here."
      Fingers touched MT1023's shoulder. MT1023 guided them down to the bag.
      "Here."
      "I don't believe it," he whispered.
      "Enough talk," MT1023 said. "Eat!"
      JT1023's self-restraint splintered, and he dug, snatching something in each hand. MT023 followed.
      They smashed the fruit to their lips.
      On the infrared monitors, little drops of warmth fell from their chins and glowed on the floor.

Day 11, 4:42 P.M.

      MT1023 sat on the end of the bed. JT1023 reclined, crossing his legs to give him room.
      "That was the end for him. My brother died that night."
      JT1023 sighed. "Awful. It must have destroyed your family."
      "My father never walked tall again. His back was always bent. Like it was just too heavy for him."
      JT1023 nodded, although MT1023 couldn't see it. "I'm very sorry."
      MT1023 got up. "I'm going to use the toilet."
      "Okay."
      "I'm so exhausted by this dark," he sighed. "It makes it seem like everything's in my own head. Even you."
      "Yes."
      "If I didn't have you to talk to, I'd go insane."
      "I'm glad you're with me too," JT1023 said.
      "You know, I--"
      A sound erupted.
      Both men froze.
      It was a tremendous grating. Every scrape unfolded like landscapes vacated by their blinded eyes.
      Then, the lights flipped on. The horrendous glare incinerated a path directly to their brains. They howled and buried their faces.
      When MT1023 finally managed to squint, he didn't speak. JT1023's eyes battled into the brightness. He saw, and a sound jumped from his lips.
      A second doorway had opened.


On to Part 6.
Go back to Part 4.

A Tale of Two Memes

I've been tagged by one of my first blog contacts, Macallister Stone, to tell you five little known facts about myself. I've also been tagged by Susan Abraham to tell you five things I love and hate about winter. It's been a while since I've done a meme. Here goes!

Five Little Known Facts About Me
1. As a child, I was always more comfortable around adults than other children.

2. I used to play the French Horn in grade school. Now, I mess around on the piano and play the bagpipes. (I owe you folks a recording. The last one is way down in my archives.)

3. I quit everything when I was twelve. Boy Scouts. Baseball. Band. (Hmmm, maybe I had a problems with B-words.) I stepped onto the road to non-conformity when I was 12.

4. Between the ages of 7 and 13, I lived in Buffalo, New York. To this day, I feel like moving away was the death of a budding version of myself. Strangely enough, I moved back to the same school in Pennsylvania I left when we went to Buffalo. I can't complain though, since I'm very happy with the person I am. But sometimes I wonder who I would've been if I didn't have that disruption at that time.

5. I would love to direct a movie.


Five Things I Love About Winter
1. For some reason the cold weather outside and warm light inside gets me in the mood for classical music. I especially like Baroque featuring the harpsichord.

2. The intense blue of twilight reflected in snow.

3. Storms which leave you house-bound.

4. Being in a place so quiet that the sound of snow hitting the ground is loud.

5. The brightness of the winter night sky.


Five Things I Hate About Winter
1. Never knowing when a patch of ice is going to make my drive far more interesting.

2. Waiting for a late train in the blowing cold.

3. Stepping into a deep slush puddle in the city.

4. When your gloves get wet and your fingers freeze.

5. Never knowing when a patch of ice is going to make my walk far more interesting. I had a brutal fall in the forest last year. Good thing I only broke what I was carrying.

Does anyone want to be tagged? Let me know and I'd be happy to do it!

UPDATE: so far, I tag Bev.