InterNutter

Indie writer seeks audience with an audience. Paying customers welcome. [pronouns: ze/hir] Daily free stories happen because it is an excellent counter to Writers' Block.

Burpengary East http://www.cmweller.com 12609 posts

Challenge #01421-C326: Finding Need

"The world has need of you." It's a poem by Ellen Bass. Write something based on it please. -- Knitnan

[AN: You can read the poem over here if you're interested.]

Space is big. It's easy to imagine that the dark gulf doesn't care for the whims of one small scavenger and their ship. It was easy to feel like one tiny candle in a vast expanse of hungry darkness.

And doing EVA, checking out some empty and dark hulk... it was easy to feel suspended between light and darkness. Waiting for the pull of something... anything... that would mean companionship or profit or both.

Floating without gravity. Keeping a map on the HUD, to make certain that differing orientations did not lead to getting lost in a room that she had been in previously. With no sound but that of her own breathing. No light but that from her helmet. Nothing to fear but the things her mind conjured from the ever-moving shadows.

There was nothing but emptiness. Nothing but that which she brought with her. And that which could prove worthy inside the hulk. Whatever was passed over by previous scavengers could be useful to later scavengers. After all, it was a big universe. Sooner or later, something ate it, needed it, or could use it for other things.

Her scanners connected to the Galactic Info Nets, but only to read the materials and calculate their market worth by mass unit and whether or not they were worth taking back.

Sometimes, she wondered what the scanner thought of her.

And then, when her cargo storage was full, she would return to civilisation in a can. The nearest station. The least-cost path to somewhere that plants grew for more than food or air. Where there was no lag where she interacted with any other being. Where there were smells other than her own funk. Where there was gravity. Where there was space to stretch outside of a livesuit and food that didn't come in a suckle bag.

And in those stations, she inevitably wound up in one of the green parks. Just to watch the trees. If it was a planet, a falling leaf would pull, just slightly, on the planet it fell towards. Yet on a station or on a ship, she didn't pull back. One day... maybe... she would have the chance.

To own a little plot of land in on an actual planet. And grow real trees under a real sky. And see if she could tell the difference between pulling back and being pulled.

But for now... She needed her world to need her back. Anyone or anything would do.

This time, when she got back to her nearest canned world, she paused at the pets station. Maybe something to talk to and look after would help her feel less isolated.

(Muse food remaining: 13. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)

Unriddling

New med schedules are kicking my arse. Sure, I get a good night's sleep, but afterwards is the buttnugget.

I've figured out that light levels are linked to the amount of awareness I have during the day. Too much or too little, and the groggy, foggy feeling returns in abundance. Just the right amount, and I'm 'clear' while that light lasts.

And I'm currently writing this with a light in my face. Care of the same light I used to illuminate myself

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Challenge #01420-C325: Intolerance Turns

"I'm not stupid, I'm not expendable, and I'm not going." Originally Kerr Avon Blake's 7. Write your own. -- Knitnan

She expected resistance. She expected hostility. Even in the face of clear and present adversity. What she hadn't expected was absolute and raw hostility.

"Mr President, I'm here to help you."

He made words come out of that ugly sneer on his face. "Go back to Iraq, you filthy Muslim! What the hell are you doing out of the seraglio anyway?"

"Sir,

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Dialling it down

Working out the right time in the evening to take my Serotonin is currently the problem. Juggling that and getting ready for the morning with a foggy, sleepy brain is still a problem.

But, through a process of trial and error, and error, and more error, I will eventually hit the solution by pure accident. The key, I'm sure, is taking the Serotonin at the correct hour.

And while I'm getting the hour correct, I have to deal with brain fog for

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Challenge #01419-C324: Creatures of the Night

Quote from Hellboy: There are things that go bump in the night. We're the ones who bump back. -- Anon Guest

[AN: I haven't had the dosh to acquire the original comics, alas. I want to get them though.]

From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties...

It was a fine thing to believe in a merciful god. Chanda endorsed it. Belief is a powerful thing and a defense against certain evils. Unfortunately, with belief in the good, comes belief in the evil.

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Lo Batt

So I've swapped my medication to taking it at night. And I kind'a revelled in being AWAKE for a change and wound up staying up until eleven. Whoops.

Also taking a midday estivation until night time probably didn't help there.

So this morning, I'm still foggy, but able to function. For limited definitions of 'function'. I'm still easily distractible and I'm having small troubles maintaining focus.

And I haven't watered my garden yet... hangon...

There. Plants are still alive, yay.

I have

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Challenge #01418-C323: The Button

"You should have told me what that button did."

"You shouldn't have pressed it!"

"I wouldn't have pressed it if i knew what it did!" -- OohLookShiny

"Just. Why?" said Holly.

"It was big and red and said don't touch on it," said the Doctor. "You can't understand what a raw temptation that is."

"Maybe there was a reason it was like that," argued Holly. "You don't touch big red buttons that tell you not to touch them."

"You don't touch big

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Plus la change...

Three stitches are gone, but the wound is still fragile. For those who dont follow my tumblr, the blip was a cyst, likely fatty, and entirely benign.

I have a new bandage over the site and a desperate need to scratch it because the damn thing is driving me bonkers. New bandage has to stay for a week. Bluh.

BUT I can shower as long as I pat it dry. Huzzah.

The good news about the Muppet is that some nice folks

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Challenge #01417-C322: Contentious Neighbour

Vuvuzelas aka stadium horns plus a group of children ages 5 to 8. -- Anon Guest

The big house in the neighbourhood had finally sold. Not to a dot-com temporary millionaire or some other fancy individual, but to a business of sorts. A foster home.

Biff didn't like it. As their immediate neighbour, he got to see a lot of what was going on over the maximum-legal-tall fence. And he was offended by most of it.

Hardly any of the kids had

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Thrice-special day

Today's the day!

Today's the day my Beloved celebrates another trip around the sun.

Today's the day I get my wound seen to and possibly the results of what the blip actually was.

Today's the fourteenth day on Serotonin and the day when all the effects have evened out.

Thanks to birthday cards with gift cards in them, Beloved has $100 to fritter in JB's. Half of that is thanks to MeMum and the other half is me. Huzzah.

I've no doubt

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Challenge #01416-C321: Feed the Cow

"Cash cow" : Money producing object or project, some are carefully tended and flourish. Some are bled of cash, milked dry and only then last minute revival plans, or quick sale contemplated. -- Anon Guest

It was a mystery how such a show made it to the number one position of any television genre at all, let alone the number one watched show in the entire world. The premise was daft, the characters were simple archetypes, and the plot, such as it was,

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Broken Day

Today's the day I take Chaos for a tour of her new school. It happens to take up enough time to dominate the rest of her school day, so she's not going back for like half an hour of alleged education. Especially when she goes non-verbal from excitement.

And it's a broken day for me, because I have to haul arse close to the middle of the day to take Chaos for said tour.

Regardless of whether or not I've finished the

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Challenge #01415-C320: No Plan Survives

Check your plans before you press "go". in tribute to many recent project that started up with great fanfare, followed by the mad scramble to fix the mess caused by not fully planning. -- Knitnan

They say that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. In truth, hardly any plan survives the planning stage. Especially when there's the kind of person hanging around who lives to deflate any growing plan.

And then there's the sad case of anti-serendipity.

"I knew I

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Sneaky Sneaky

I know for a fact that my Best Beloved does not read this blog. Therefore I'm about to get away with everything I'm detailing here.

I've refrained from detailing the purchases I made yesterday to get Beloved's birthmas gift. And today, somewhere between the Instant I write today and doing my allotted words for this years' novel, I will extract the gift from its hiding place, emparcel it, and hide it anew.

All this is possible because I have more money than

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Challenge #01414-C319: If it Ain't Broke...

"If it isn't broke don't fix it." -- Knitnan

It was a rule every JOAT broke, sooner or later. The desire to tweak, finesse, and otherwise improve something in their radius of activity would become overwhelming.

Tel found it extremely difficult resist, stranded on a comms station that had barely enough life support for technical staff. She had edible algae making her air, and a daily supply of algae cakes that kept her alive. But also bored out of her skull.

At

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