RADIAN

Jo and Chams...they have been friends since childhood. It was always their dream to become famous rock stars. They were always practicing their music. Both played guitar and sang songs in the school's talent shows over the years. When they met Al and Caid, it was a true band that emerged at last.

Calling themselves Radian, they got gigs all over town. Everyone waved at them with their lighters or phone lights at their concerts. For small town boys, they managed to make a name for themselves.

Mostly, they played hard rock tunes...at least at a club called "Mires". That venue catered to the high school kids...no booze allowed, and no one over eighteen allowed in, either. Later on, their reputation for putting on a good stage show spread to outlying towns. They got themselves a manager by the name of Tiden...well, that was his moniker, anyway. He never told anyone his real name. However, Al got a look at his driver's liscense once; he saw Tiden's real name was Gary.

The guys in the band had a good laugh about it, but let 'Gary' think he'd pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. They laughed behind his back, called him a ho and a sap, but he got them good venues to play, so eventually, they put a halt to the jokes.

As they all went on to attend the state college together, they continued to play their rock and roll, blowing out a few fuse boxes here and there.

All was going along great for awhile, and they were of a legal drinking age by now. This did cause problems...mostly squabbling between the band members. They all wanted top billing, and that put them at odds.

One night, after drinking too much gin, Caid and Jo had a fight. Backstage, before a show, they came to blows. It seems Tiden had received a telefax from a record company, wanting to sign Radian to a record deal. Tiden decided to hide it, and not tell anyone.

This night, however, at a club called "Kane", Jo was going over their playlist from A to Zee, when he saw the communication stuck in Tiden's briefcase. He almost got caught looking at it, when Tiden walked in unexpectedly, but Tiden only shooed Jo out of the office.

Jo promptly showed the others. That started the beef between them. The contract mentioned who would be primarily featured in their concerts and publicity pictures. Jo and Chams would be at the forefront, while Caid and Al would be only in the background.

A brawl ensued, which sent them all to the ER. The nurse put a ton of emu oil on their cuts and bruises, and only a lowly bandage for Chams' lacerations on both sides of his jaws.

They eventually worked out their differences, by setting a trap for Tiden. They held his veg salad hostage, until he told them the truth about the record company. Tiden admitted he did wrong...he wasn't anti success, but he was afraid he'd lose his meal ticket, as manager of the band, when they moved into the big time of the national spotlight. As he confessed, the guys, in unison, yelled and pointed at Tiden, telling him he was fired.

As Tiden left the building, Jo, Chams, Al, and Caid high fived, then called the record company, ultimately being signed to a four record deal, tours, and rotating top billing. This was acceptable.

They went on to become one of the most popular and beloved groups, from that day to the present time. Radian made history, and brought them all fame and fortune. Just like they'd envisioned all those years ago.





Words used from crossword game are underlined.

jo                           chams                           they                     been
rock                       al                                   caid                     emerged
radian                   waved                           boy                      hard
mires                    ti                                     wool                   ho
sap                        halt                                roll                      fuse
gin                         tele                                fax                       hide
kane                      zee                                 shoo                    beef
in                           er                                   puts                     ton
emu                       jaws                               anti                     trap
veg                        den


Hope you enjoyed my silly crossword story!




Peace, Love, & Laughter!

GO WITH THE FLOW ---PROGRESS COMES TO THE BACKWOODS

We were finally getting an indoor toilet. Time had passed us by, being that we were stuck way out here in the woodsy, forgotten land. There were yew trees, and pine trees, and it was peaceful.

Now, we're no naifs...we'd heard of the newfangled plumbing, but, why should we bother. We had no city water pipes or taps out here in the sticks... at least until recently. The encroaching populated cities were closing in our idyllic solitude. They were in a rush to incorporate our vast wilderness.

I don't know what we'll do with our ox. We've had that heifer for years. We use her milk to make our favorite cheese...Brie. At first, we thought the sex of the ox was male. Then she birthed a baby ox, and the rest was history in the making. We give Grace, that's her name, a rubdown every week to thank her for providing us with her oh, so creamy milk. We even bottle grams of it to sell at the farmer's market down the hill. We net a good profit.

I dread when those effin' drunkards from city hall come jutting their chins at us, telling us to quit this place...move on or be part of their @x!# beeping city. Oy! How I would love to cane a couple of those nibs. I'm firm in being jaded. I'll openly duke it out with them...and win. I'm no dozer. I've maced nitwits before...I'll do it again.

It's apt for those ragtag litho newspapers to get everyone riled up. But then, it would be nice to have that indoor plumbing, I dare say. Mi!

Words used from crossword game are underlined.

toilet                       naif                              openly                   nib
grace                       maced                         rub                         oy
gram                       drunkards                  net                          ox
woodsy                   sex                               quit                         juts                
dread                       jade                             litho                       Brie
yew                          doze                            caned                     apt
firm                          beeps                          rush                      rag
duke                         mi                                win                       ef
oh




Hope you enjoyed my silly crossword story!





Peace, Love, Laughter!

CROSSWORD STORIES

This post is just to say a few words about my Crossword Stories. That's what I'm calling them. There may have been other writers to try this form of coming up with story ideas, but I've never ran across any mention of it. Could be they call them something else...maybe just word prompts to get the ideas to come.

I've been thinking of doing this for quite a while, but just recently tried it out for the first time. This was when I was participating in @FridayNightWrites and @WriteClub on Twitter. It is lots of fun and a good time to practice different forms of writing.

What I did was to take all the words from an online game I play, "Words With Friends", and make a list from one of the boards. Those are the words I have to incorporate into my story. I've done a few so far, and they are short, so I will lable them under Flash Fiction, also. The stories are turning out to be humorous, so far. I'm usually giggling while I'm writing them.

I plan on doing more in the days ahead. Hope you get a giggle or two out of reading them!




Peace, Love, & Laughter

IT'S ALL IN MY HEAD

My ear was itching in that deep down, hard to reach place. I tried for several days to scratch it by trial and error. Sticking my finger in there, jiggling it around did not help. Doing that thing with my tongue, scratching my throat did not help. Carefully inserting a cotton swab a little ways in did not work either. I tried flushing it out with warm water, then suctioning it out. This just made it worse. Now every sound was muffled, and the itch was still there.

There was no relief. Itching day and night was taking it's toll on me. Lack of sleep, and unable to concentrate on daily activities caused me to call in sick to my place of employment on more than one occasion as the days and weeks went by.

I didn't want to, but I made an appointment with the ear, nose, and throat doctor. The exam, which included tiny lights being shone down my ear canal, and small wire probing instruments poked down inside, turned up no clear cut diagnosis. I was sent home with only some ear drops.

After one day of using the drops, I noticed a change. The itching was barely noticeable now, but very faintly I could hear music. Even when in the silence of my house, I could hear snippets of songs, one after the other. Day by day the music became louder until it was a perfect volume.

I was able to shake my head, and the music would change to another song like magic. It was very strange, but at least it was not the infernal itching. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it, this radio in my head...turn my head, change the station, as often as I wanted.

All kinds of music was represented. I'd go about my business, at home or work, walking down the sidewalk, or shopping and be listening to a soundtrack to my days. Lucky for me, it would stop when I went to bed, so that was appreciated.

I had no need of my I-Pod anymore. I didn't even feel embarrassed when I banged my head, or did a sudden hip-hop move in the grocery store. I even showed some people waiting at the bus stop my awesome ballet pirouettes.  Most people smiled along with me. A few tried some dance moves themselves, but I knew they couldn't hear my music. They had their earbuds plugged into their own ears. Mine was internal, organic, awesome.

Word got around soon enough. I even had an interview that was broadcast on local television. Did that make me a celebrity? I think it did. After all, I sang and danced on camera, and now was recognized everywhere I went.

I did have one strange phone call, though. It was from a travelling troupe of performers. Their talent scout asked if I wanted to tour the fifty states with their "Amazing Freak Show". I would be billed as "The Woman Who Hears Music In Her Head". They promised a nice paycheck, a giant poster of me, smiling, free carnival rides, and all the cotton candy I could ever want.

I reluctantly had to turn them down. To be honest, after a year of constant music, I was beginning to be annoyed. I mean, the same playlist was on a thousand song replay. After I'd heard them three hundred sixty five days in a row, it was getting to me...and not in a good way. My dancing was becoming jerky, and I was forgetting the words to songs. More and more I'd find myself blocking out whole genres of music.

It happened gradually. I began to feel the tiny tickles of the itch coming back. After about a month, it was in full force again, and the music had completely stopped. The itching was much worse this time, so I made another doctor appointment. This time, to my relief, the doctor made a definite diagnosis.

As he reached into my ear with his long tweezers, he pulled out an object, putting it on a paper covered tray in front of me. I recoiled in horror at the sight of it.

"What in hell is that?" I managed to ask.

"You have had a bad case of Heliocoverpa zea...earworms."

~
                                                         

*earworm...a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person's mind.

*Heliocoverpa zea...the larva of the moth commonly known as corn earworm.






Peace, Love, & Music 

LITTLE DEVILS

They skittered away from me. They always do, the little devils. They are fast. I sometimes catch one, but it's not easy.

Laughing at my attempts, they form little armies, taunting me. I curse them. I get angry, stomp my feet, find another weapon in my arsenal, hoping to find one that will annihilate them for good.

I've learned that they are tricksters. They have many hiding places and love to skitter out at me...a suprise attack...only to disappear again.

To look at them, you'd think they are innocent of any evil intent towards me. I know better now. I've come to believe they have some kind of rudimentary intelligence, enhancing their mission.

The ones I've captured are disposed of immediately, but it hardly matters. Multiplication of their species is rapid, and they don't mourn the loss of their comrades.

Where do they come from? How do they get in here? I don't invite them in. I'd never do that.  They are sneaky. If ever you look into any dark recess of this place, you may catch sight of a few, catch them congregating...formulating their plans. I shake my head, knowing they will be gone if I run to get my chosen weapon.

They've been around for centuries, their kind. I'm sure of it. They are a primitive sort, yet hardy...impossible to completely wipe off the face of the Earth.

I've dissected a few that I was lucky enough to catch. They made no sound as I pulled and prodded them apart, even as they crumbled into nothingness. I was surprised. Their bodies disintegrated into a bit of hair, a bit of fluff, back to the dirty little Hell they came from. I shudder at the remembrance of it. I don't pull them apart for curiosity's sake any more.

I chased one the other day, though. A tiny one skittered across the floor right in front of me. I'd caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. As luck would have it, I had my weapon in hand already. I smashed the bloodless bugger flat. The only witnesses were the others of it's kind, already trapped, on the way to their doom.

I sensed a rustling, a whisper of movement behind me. Whirling around, I dangled my latest victim in front of the others.

"Hah! Look at your future, you devils," I sneered.

Flinging the deceased into their midst, I scooped up the whole lot of them. Their execution was at hand. As today's invaders were being disposed of, I heard their final, collective thought.

"We'll be back."

I sighed, "Waging war on dust bunnies is a never ending job."












Peace, Love, & War

TONIGHT?

The blond boy shuffled his feet in the gravel next to the building. He was waiting. He struck a match, holding the orange flame up to the joint held between his lips. Inhaling deeply, he began to relax. This could be the night.

He watched as a couple of girls ran past him, paying no attention to the boy in the shadows. There was a muffled sound of music seeping out into the chilly night air. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he walked toward the back door of the venue, following in the girls footsteps.

Scrunching through the rocks, he rounded the corner. There was the bus, belching diesel fumes into the cold air. The driver had just let the two girls inside. He sighed, knowing he would never be invited in, yet still hoping...always hoping.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time. He moved closer to the double doors, his heart pounding a rhythm to match the beat of the music from within. Then a thunderous roar was followed by a silence that made his ears ring. A sudden surge of adreneline coursed through his veins.

A thousand footsteps behind him were coming closer. The doors flew open as two burly men lead the way to the bus. In the few seconds before the crowd caught up to him, he made eye contact with a tall musician coming through the doorway.

He hears the words, "Not tonight," spoken, as the musician signals to him with a hand over his heart. Then he is gone...swept along with his entourage onto the bus

The blond boy is just another face in the crowd of fans now gathered there, hoping to get a glimpse of the musician. It is bittersweet, having been seen, yet not invited along. He turns away, preparing for the next stop on the road ahead.

Inside the bus, the musician watches through the window and sighs.

"Who were you talking to?" a bandmate asks.

"My brother," he replies.

"I didn't see anyone there." the bandmate says.

"I know...he died two years ago. He was my biggest fan...and he still is."







Peace, Love, & Love

FLASH FICTION

What is Flash Fiction? That's what I asked when I first heard the term. By doing a little research online and reading other people's flash fiction stories, here is what I found out.

It is a form of writing fiction that is very short. Some stories can be as short as 75 words or as long as 1,500 words long. They can also be called micro-fiction, short-short stories, and sudden fiction among others.

The stories should follow a criteria of having a beginning, middle, and end. In other words, a complete story told in a way that it stands alone, and is easy to read in a short amount of time.

I have never done this before, but am going to try it. This first one I hope will be the beginning of many more, as I plan to keep working on this type of writing.

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it!







Peace, Love, & Learning