Pirate Twins, 4, again “Learning to Fly”

It’s nice to be able to rely on family. Humans in the West are so cut off from one another; I’ve talked with otherwise genius doctors who could not name their grandparents. Atomized. Adrift. Almost by design.

There was once a pharmacist who I, politely, made an example of. This was years ago, when ancestry.com was still pretty much free. I started in 17th Century England and clicked from one name to another, him watching next to me. Click, click, click. “And here,” I concluded, “is fifteen-year-old me standing next to my mother’s mother.”

Almost four hundred years of family. This clever guy could not fathom it. I encouraged him to look into his family but I don’t think anything came of it. Sad. We should not be alone.

That’s enough talking; I’m still moody. Let’s see what Georgie can do.

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Pirate Twins, 1, again.

I admit is a kind of retread. That is, a story I’ve explored before. So, yes, is a Lenten cheat.

Once upon a time, I had a writing experiment. About five years ago. It was based upon two songs I’ll address in the next post. For those of a certain age, it’s obvious. I first thought it was about Machines. I was wrong.

The original form was muddled. I’m trying to tighten this up as something very, very, odd for me:

Allegory. Allegory of the Cold War in Europe.

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Hurty words and RealLife(tm)

Yes, yes: daily commitment to posting something. And now I’m about to lose my DayJob because some people of a certain gland and fake faith have decided that the last three male pharmacy techs at the hospital must go.

What? You thought a quarter-million (low end estimate) of hospital medical deaths per year just happen? There are people who work tirelessly to get rid of competent staff for the Good of the Narrative, comrade.

More importantly, in my last post of a story, I got Aurelia’s age way too high. She’d be closer to fifteen, not twenty, so I’m puzzling my way through that right now. Hopefully real content tomorrow!

Lenten Writing

I’ve seen something for what might be my third and last installment for this Season. I didn’t like looking at it and I don’t like talking about it. But it is canonical to Machine Civilization, so there it is. This is not something I’ve written in Word and run through Grammarly; this is what I just saw and and posting. Expect errors.

My Lenten commitment was daily posting. But I hate what I’ve just seen.

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Tillamook, part 25. End.

Yes, you just missed another bunny with a pancake on its head.

There’s a lot going on here but this is a writing exercise, not a proper short story in an anthology. Someday, it likely shall be. I try to resolve the Russian-Nation political dilemma with Nichole, as Togame’s friend, placing herself and her ship – literally – in the middle. Rhun is dealt with off-screen then we have a lovely little domestic scene.

Fifty bucks says Nichole sleeps with Gil’s son in the next six months. Japanese morals are different. Machine morals? Good luck with that.

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Tillamook, part 24

The rest of the Haven’s backstory followed by a declaration three of them were off before dawn the next day on Nichole’s flying saucer. The last Part, #25, might be on the long side…

A fan on Gab once asked how do I balance or control “high-powered” characters such as Nichole 5. My reply was to write up some kind of foil – a person or group – who can oppose them. With nothing like that here, Model Five just proposed to take Gil and Mac’s first child.

I’ll admit, compared to the last time I saw Mackenzie d’Arcy in the last chapter of “Foes and Rivals,” she’s matured quite a bit.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

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