"But, Jim..."
I whined as my boss turned to exit my small office. He looked back over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Dan, but we don't really have the money to keep you right now. The cuts are hitting us all. My benefits have been suspended, and several of our managers are on unpaid leave. We're really just hemorrhaging money. The stock is in the toilet and we're just treading water right now. We can pay you through the end of the week, but after that, i don't know..."
He really was sorry for having to let me go, i could tell. Jim had always been a good guy, and i knew he wouldn't just be feeding me lies to cover his own ass.
"Okay. Maybe I can figure something out by then. Thanks, Jim."
I found out later that Jim had fought for me, to keep me there. He knew my skills, and if it hadn't been for him i would have been one of the first laid off. A few of my friends had already been put on leave indefinitely. I knew things were bad, but never really got it till i started looking at the numbers. I was always good with the numbers side of things, even though I'd been hired to do IT work. Maybe there was something I could do...
I kissed my wife Alison when i got home, and asked for her help. She wasn't great with the technical stuff, but she was creative and often saw new things I would miss with my clinicallity.
Jim had gotten me copies of the office's financial records, and they were as expected a mess.
I saw a few areas we could cut, a few minor details, but nothing that would really help the company as a whole. Sure, we had a few promising projects that would keep us afloat-if we could get them to the marketplace. I sighed and turned to Ally.
"I have to."
She knew exactly what i meant when i said it, and her eyes started to tear up.
"you swore you wouldn't. We've come so far from that. I know you care about this company and these people, but you ..."
The realization crossed over her face and she nodded.
"Just, let me go to my mother's first, okay? i don't want to be here for it."
I told her okay, and helped her pack. It would take a few days to get prepared, so she needed enough to get through a week. We held each other for a while, and she kissed me, before heading out the door.
I got my things from where I'd hidden them. I never thought I'd have to use them again, but this would be helping so many people, I couldn't stand by and do nothing.
It took a while to get the feel for them again, but soon i was wearing the devices like they were old friends. It wouldn't be long till i got them working again, then a few days to power up. After that, I'd be able to do what I should have done months ago..."
Monday, April 25, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Intoxicate
"I really can't help but drink" Adam whined into his glass as his friends once again slid him another cup of their special Moonshine.
"it's really hard when you're trying to get over comething not to try andintoxicate your cares into oblivion."
He downed the glass once again and tapped the cup on the bar.
"let';s get another one over here, i'm still alive."
He said slurring his words, before his eyes fluttered and he fell face first into the bar, then slid onto the floor with a sickening thump. his buddies laughed and nudged him with their feet before sighing and lifting his limp form into the safety of a nearby booth.
"Let's draw on him."
"What are we, five?"
"Come on, it'll be awesome!"
So, they got a few markers used to put up the signs on the bar's whiteboard and plied their artistic experience to draw all over the poor unconscious Adam.
Adam came to with a huge head of pain and a feeling in his gut that told him that the toilet was about to get fed like a baby bird. he ran into the bathroom and hwarked up the last bit of his last night's party.
A few hours later he was back down on his sofa, head adorned with a nice flowery towel full of ice. he'd not looked in the mirror so he was unaware of the amazing work of art that covered his face and neck.
A knock on his door woke him up just as the sun was going down, and he groggily got up to answer it. he winced as the last bit of sunlight burned into his retinas when the door opened and he could barely make out a figure in front of him.
"yeah?"
"Um..Mister...Taconti? "
the female voice sounded quite confused, and if he could see straight he would see a lovely young woman. She eyed the strange markings on his head and had to smile.
"I obviously have the right place. Here."
She held out a large envelope, much heavier than it should have been, and left. leaving Adam to squint, trying to get a good look at her. the only thing he could really make out was the way her hips moved, and a strange sort of part in her skirt. He shrugged and went inside.
He dropped the envelope on the kitchen table and poured himself a nice, non-alcoholic drink, foregoing any food for fear of his stomach's unending wrath once again visiting him. he downed the nice glass of lemonade and eyed the manilla intruder to his otherwise happy kitchen.
He grabbed it and tore thorough the paper as if it were...slightly weaker paper.
Inside was a small chalice, made of gold with gemstone inlay. Its weight made him pretty sure that it truly was gold, but who sent it? he checked the envelope for a return address.
There was no writing on it, not even his address, name, nothing. he turned it over and even checked the part he'd ripped off, but there was simply no indication from where it had come or who it came from. He sat the cup down and looked at it curiously.
"it's really hard when you're trying to get over comething not to try andintoxicate your cares into oblivion."
He downed the glass once again and tapped the cup on the bar.
"let';s get another one over here, i'm still alive."
He said slurring his words, before his eyes fluttered and he fell face first into the bar, then slid onto the floor with a sickening thump. his buddies laughed and nudged him with their feet before sighing and lifting his limp form into the safety of a nearby booth.
"Let's draw on him."
"What are we, five?"
"Come on, it'll be awesome!"
So, they got a few markers used to put up the signs on the bar's whiteboard and plied their artistic experience to draw all over the poor unconscious Adam.
Adam came to with a huge head of pain and a feeling in his gut that told him that the toilet was about to get fed like a baby bird. he ran into the bathroom and hwarked up the last bit of his last night's party.
A few hours later he was back down on his sofa, head adorned with a nice flowery towel full of ice. he'd not looked in the mirror so he was unaware of the amazing work of art that covered his face and neck.
A knock on his door woke him up just as the sun was going down, and he groggily got up to answer it. he winced as the last bit of sunlight burned into his retinas when the door opened and he could barely make out a figure in front of him.
"yeah?"
"Um..Mister...Taconti? "
the female voice sounded quite confused, and if he could see straight he would see a lovely young woman. She eyed the strange markings on his head and had to smile.
"I obviously have the right place. Here."
She held out a large envelope, much heavier than it should have been, and left. leaving Adam to squint, trying to get a good look at her. the only thing he could really make out was the way her hips moved, and a strange sort of part in her skirt. He shrugged and went inside.
He dropped the envelope on the kitchen table and poured himself a nice, non-alcoholic drink, foregoing any food for fear of his stomach's unending wrath once again visiting him. he downed the nice glass of lemonade and eyed the manilla intruder to his otherwise happy kitchen.
He grabbed it and tore thorough the paper as if it were...slightly weaker paper.
Inside was a small chalice, made of gold with gemstone inlay. Its weight made him pretty sure that it truly was gold, but who sent it? he checked the envelope for a return address.
There was no writing on it, not even his address, name, nothing. he turned it over and even checked the part he'd ripped off, but there was simply no indication from where it had come or who it came from. He sat the cup down and looked at it curiously.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Behavior
"Now children, do be on your best behavior. You know how your uncle gets when you don't act properly."
The three precocious children nodded and nudged each other. Mrs. Berrington knew that this was a fruitless pursuit, but she had to at least try. The most she could do now was damage control.
The last visit had ended in abject disaster, with several hospital visits and more than a few harsh words.
The children were now older, but still much too young to be expected to be perfect angels all the time, and the Barrington's annual visit from their esteemed uncle Weston was the one time a year they were even expected to try. Still, it was a fruitless effort that usually ended with uncle storming out in a huff and the family having to scrape by for another year on their meager earnings.
William, the youngest, was the best behaved. he was now only six, and was beginning to pick up his brother and sister's bad habits. He was still too small to cause any real damage, though.
Elise was the middle, and usually instigated most of the trouble. She was the mastermind between the boys, and her skills at cunning were legendary throughout the city. Thanks to her coaching, the name Barrington was top of the constable's watch list. She took a special kind of pride in it, and would giggle gleefully as the boys took their punishments.
Edgar, the eldest kept to himself until his sister planted ideas within his head, and being a bit dull, he would always follow along with her wishes. He was less than the sharpest knife, but he knew how to cause some damage when he put his lack of a mind to it.
So, the visit was scheduled, and soon, Uncle would be here. Elise was already prepared, and several traps had been set. Nothing truly injury inducing, but mostly embarrassing. they delighted in the senseless torment of visitors. Their parents had even learned early that even pets were out of the question.
A final glance of warning was the best Mrs. Barrington could muster as she sighed heavily and went to answer the doorbell.
"Uncle Weston! how wonderful to see you! Let me take your coat!"
She offered him a smile, too nervous for his liking.
"Where is that nephew of mine? Out gallivanting at the tavern again?"
The bespectacled walrus of a man entered, taking off his coat and tossing it unceremoniously to the pre-offered arm. He shifted his girth into a too-small chair which creaked as his weight pressed itself upon it, and let out a long, tobacco scented sigh.
"I don't know why I even bother coming into this rathole of a house anymore. You never impress me enough to merit my favor."
He let out a huff and took out an old pipe, tapping the burnt tobacco onto the floor, and refilling it from a pocket pouch, before lighting it and taking a long drag, exhaling the stale smelling smoke which quickly fouled the air.
"So, where are the kids?"
The three precocious children nodded and nudged each other. Mrs. Berrington knew that this was a fruitless pursuit, but she had to at least try. The most she could do now was damage control.
The last visit had ended in abject disaster, with several hospital visits and more than a few harsh words.
The children were now older, but still much too young to be expected to be perfect angels all the time, and the Barrington's annual visit from their esteemed uncle Weston was the one time a year they were even expected to try. Still, it was a fruitless effort that usually ended with uncle storming out in a huff and the family having to scrape by for another year on their meager earnings.
William, the youngest, was the best behaved. he was now only six, and was beginning to pick up his brother and sister's bad habits. He was still too small to cause any real damage, though.
Elise was the middle, and usually instigated most of the trouble. She was the mastermind between the boys, and her skills at cunning were legendary throughout the city. Thanks to her coaching, the name Barrington was top of the constable's watch list. She took a special kind of pride in it, and would giggle gleefully as the boys took their punishments.
Edgar, the eldest kept to himself until his sister planted ideas within his head, and being a bit dull, he would always follow along with her wishes. He was less than the sharpest knife, but he knew how to cause some damage when he put his lack of a mind to it.
So, the visit was scheduled, and soon, Uncle would be here. Elise was already prepared, and several traps had been set. Nothing truly injury inducing, but mostly embarrassing. they delighted in the senseless torment of visitors. Their parents had even learned early that even pets were out of the question.
A final glance of warning was the best Mrs. Barrington could muster as she sighed heavily and went to answer the doorbell.
"Uncle Weston! how wonderful to see you! Let me take your coat!"
She offered him a smile, too nervous for his liking.
"Where is that nephew of mine? Out gallivanting at the tavern again?"
The bespectacled walrus of a man entered, taking off his coat and tossing it unceremoniously to the pre-offered arm. He shifted his girth into a too-small chair which creaked as his weight pressed itself upon it, and let out a long, tobacco scented sigh.
"I don't know why I even bother coming into this rathole of a house anymore. You never impress me enough to merit my favor."
He let out a huff and took out an old pipe, tapping the burnt tobacco onto the floor, and refilling it from a pocket pouch, before lighting it and taking a long drag, exhaling the stale smelling smoke which quickly fouled the air.
"So, where are the kids?"
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dire
"We need some cover here!"
The fatigued men huddled together under the makeshift bunker, an overturned tanker truck that still reeked of quickly evaporating gasoline.
"No shots, no fire, or we're all going up. We'll just have to hope that James can get the chopper working before those tings get too close. the gas should hide our scents, but not our trail. One of us needs to go out there and lure them away."
A suicide mission, and they all knew it. The six of them had survived this long by sticking together, but they'd seen friends go, and they weren't in any real shape to continue. The constant running had taken it's toll and they barely had the strength to walk anymore.
"We've got one does of the serum left. it should give whoever's running enough strength to get them at least a mile away from here. Hopefully by that time, the rain will have started and our trail will be covered."
Samuel, the youngest of them, knelt down and began to pray.
"Savior, let not those who have cause to harm us find the seclusion we have discovered, and let not the fumes overtake those too weak to move. Let the serum guide our strongest into safety and lead the aggressors to a land of their destruction."
It was a hasty prayer, but one they were grateful to hear-unlike the loud howl that marked the arrival of the beasts they'd avoided for so long.
"They're here. we don't have any time left."
Jacob grabbed the vial of serum and jammed the needle end into his arm, his face contorting in pain as the fluid coursed through his veins. He let out a soft grunt as his muscles formed and changed, extending his legs and arms, as fur started to cover the rest of his body. His nose and jaw extended, lengthening into a long muzzle as his eyes took on a more feral appearance. A shaggy gray tail the same color as his fur sprouted from the base of his back and he growled a low rumbling growl as the rest of his body adjusted to his new form and purpose. he shook, shaking off the remnants of clothing that had tattered themselves during his transformation. With one last longing look back at the men he'd grown to know so well, he turned and darted into the street, heading for the area where he'd heard the dire howls originate.
The others shuddered as they watched their friend turn and run, knowing the pain of the experience, especially now, when the moon was nowhere near full. They saw the tinge of fear in jacob's face as he looked back at them, knowing full well they'd never see him again.
He would be remembered, though, by the few who were left, as the one that lead, the one that saved their race from the End times. He was a legend, a legend born out of the worst kind of despair, and to these men, a savior. They knew not what the future would hold for them after today, but they at least knew they would have one.
The fatigued men huddled together under the makeshift bunker, an overturned tanker truck that still reeked of quickly evaporating gasoline.
"No shots, no fire, or we're all going up. We'll just have to hope that James can get the chopper working before those tings get too close. the gas should hide our scents, but not our trail. One of us needs to go out there and lure them away."
A suicide mission, and they all knew it. The six of them had survived this long by sticking together, but they'd seen friends go, and they weren't in any real shape to continue. The constant running had taken it's toll and they barely had the strength to walk anymore.
"We've got one does of the serum left. it should give whoever's running enough strength to get them at least a mile away from here. Hopefully by that time, the rain will have started and our trail will be covered."
Samuel, the youngest of them, knelt down and began to pray.
"Savior, let not those who have cause to harm us find the seclusion we have discovered, and let not the fumes overtake those too weak to move. Let the serum guide our strongest into safety and lead the aggressors to a land of their destruction."
It was a hasty prayer, but one they were grateful to hear-unlike the loud howl that marked the arrival of the beasts they'd avoided for so long.
"They're here. we don't have any time left."
Jacob grabbed the vial of serum and jammed the needle end into his arm, his face contorting in pain as the fluid coursed through his veins. He let out a soft grunt as his muscles formed and changed, extending his legs and arms, as fur started to cover the rest of his body. His nose and jaw extended, lengthening into a long muzzle as his eyes took on a more feral appearance. A shaggy gray tail the same color as his fur sprouted from the base of his back and he growled a low rumbling growl as the rest of his body adjusted to his new form and purpose. he shook, shaking off the remnants of clothing that had tattered themselves during his transformation. With one last longing look back at the men he'd grown to know so well, he turned and darted into the street, heading for the area where he'd heard the dire howls originate.
The others shuddered as they watched their friend turn and run, knowing the pain of the experience, especially now, when the moon was nowhere near full. They saw the tinge of fear in jacob's face as he looked back at them, knowing full well they'd never see him again.
He would be remembered, though, by the few who were left, as the one that lead, the one that saved their race from the End times. He was a legend, a legend born out of the worst kind of despair, and to these men, a savior. They knew not what the future would hold for them after today, but they at least knew they would have one.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Mixing
"try that, the red one"
Alex cringed as once again his mother stood over his shoulder, pointing out the faults with his newest project. The painting was coming along well, or so he though. He wasn't great yet, just a beginner, really, but he'd sold a few paintings and drawings so far, and thought that he might have a career at it if only he could get out of this house.
"You shouldn't be mixing those two colors..they clash."
"THAT'S THE POINT" Alex's head screamed at him in frustration, and he tried to block out the incessant nagging of his overbearing mother. He wished she'd just go away.
The doorbell rang about fifteen minutes later, much to the beleaguered boy's relief. Finally, he could get things done. He'd done as little as he could while she was in his studio so he wouldn't have to do much damage control. A few splashes of paint later and he was right back on track. his new piece was a work of art from concept. The unbridled love between all types humans can express, and in the center, the heartache of that love's destruction. It would be his first masterpiece. he was excited, and that excitement manifested in frantic energy. He worked, and painted, and fumed angry at his lack of inspiration, and found that inspiration in banal things, before finally looking at the canvas, and realizing that perhaps his reach exceeded his grasp. but no, he couldn't stop. he'd poured too much of himself into this and couldn't stop now. he was so close, so close.
His mother came in on him, his room stinking of effort.
"It's been five days, Alex, and i don't see anything you've done. now put the brush down and go take a shower. You stink"
Alex ignored her, putting touches here and there, and mumbling in his sleep-deprived mind.
"No, not that, not yet..here? maybe."
"ALEX! you listen to me right now!"
His mother reached out, and grabbed at his hand, her fingers finding his paint brush instead. She smirked and wrenched it from his hand, causing the crazed teen to look at her with a mad frenzy, and in a near overwhelming rage lunge for it. His mother laughed sadistically and held it out of his grasp, backing out of the room.
"You can have it back after you take a shower and clean this place up., Now do what i say."
Alex slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated, for just a second, before grabbing a nearby pallet and slamming it against his mother's scalp causing the woman to shriek and fall to the floor. Again and again, he brought the pallet down onto her, smashing her face, and head, silencing her cries and her disdain, her criticism for goo, until nothing but a bloody pulp remained on the floor of his studio. Blood spattered all over the walls and empty canvases. not even his masterpiece was spared, and he turned to it after picking his paint brush up out of his mothers cooling hand.
He stared blankly at the blood flowing through the paint, smearing the work he'd been so fervent about getting just right, and his hand released the brush.
"perfect.." he said, in a low, whispered tone.
Alex cringed as once again his mother stood over his shoulder, pointing out the faults with his newest project. The painting was coming along well, or so he though. He wasn't great yet, just a beginner, really, but he'd sold a few paintings and drawings so far, and thought that he might have a career at it if only he could get out of this house.
"You shouldn't be mixing those two colors..they clash."
"THAT'S THE POINT" Alex's head screamed at him in frustration, and he tried to block out the incessant nagging of his overbearing mother. He wished she'd just go away.
The doorbell rang about fifteen minutes later, much to the beleaguered boy's relief. Finally, he could get things done. He'd done as little as he could while she was in his studio so he wouldn't have to do much damage control. A few splashes of paint later and he was right back on track. his new piece was a work of art from concept. The unbridled love between all types humans can express, and in the center, the heartache of that love's destruction. It would be his first masterpiece. he was excited, and that excitement manifested in frantic energy. He worked, and painted, and fumed angry at his lack of inspiration, and found that inspiration in banal things, before finally looking at the canvas, and realizing that perhaps his reach exceeded his grasp. but no, he couldn't stop. he'd poured too much of himself into this and couldn't stop now. he was so close, so close.
His mother came in on him, his room stinking of effort.
"It's been five days, Alex, and i don't see anything you've done. now put the brush down and go take a shower. You stink"
Alex ignored her, putting touches here and there, and mumbling in his sleep-deprived mind.
"No, not that, not yet..here? maybe."
"ALEX! you listen to me right now!"
His mother reached out, and grabbed at his hand, her fingers finding his paint brush instead. She smirked and wrenched it from his hand, causing the crazed teen to look at her with a mad frenzy, and in a near overwhelming rage lunge for it. His mother laughed sadistically and held it out of his grasp, backing out of the room.
"You can have it back after you take a shower and clean this place up., Now do what i say."
Alex slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated, for just a second, before grabbing a nearby pallet and slamming it against his mother's scalp causing the woman to shriek and fall to the floor. Again and again, he brought the pallet down onto her, smashing her face, and head, silencing her cries and her disdain, her criticism for goo, until nothing but a bloody pulp remained on the floor of his studio. Blood spattered all over the walls and empty canvases. not even his masterpiece was spared, and he turned to it after picking his paint brush up out of his mothers cooling hand.
He stared blankly at the blood flowing through the paint, smearing the work he'd been so fervent about getting just right, and his hand released the brush.
"perfect.." he said, in a low, whispered tone.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Paradise
I could think of nothing better than to be with her. She was the grace and charm of the world to me and I couldn't believe that I'd been so blessed to find such a person.
I'd known her since the first week of college, and we'd never really spoken until nearly a year in. She was studying English-i learned that from a mutual friend, along with her name-Rita.
I asked a lot of questions and mary (our mutual friend) laughed at me and said that I should go talk to her.
It still took me several weeks to build up the courage to speak to this raven haired goddess, this slice of absolute paradise given form. She had everything that i wanted. She wasn't tall, but was tall enough, and her eyes were bright, and brown and whenever i looked at them i saw what i wanted for the rest of my life. her hair was short, cut into a cute pixie style, and her body, well, a polite man doesn't describe the thoughts out loud. But, I never truly looked at her with a lustful or lecherous desire, more of an admiration, for never had one so fully captivated my mind.
She also wore glasses, which was a big bonus for me. Her skin was a dark sienna, and smooth as the voice that slithered it's way out of her perfect lips.
She was sitting there, reading a book of philosophy and tapping a pencil against her teeth thoughtfully when i finally walked up to her. I sat across from her, and she looked up, causing her hair to playfully brush against her cheek. She looked quizzically at me and I smiled nervously.
"hello, Rita. How're things?"
her face remained unchanged as she put her book onto the table and took a sip of her tea. i could smell the spice in it as it mixed gently with her perfume which i could not place. I wish i wasn't so nervous and hoped she didn't notice, though i knew her to be very perceptive, so there wasn little chance of that. I nearly bolted, until she said, in that sultry, sensual voice.
"I wondered what was taking you so long to talk to me."
We started a hesitant conversation. She was all that i wasn't. She knew her life plan, her goals and dreams, and was doing everything it took to get to them, while i was just sort of cruising, waiting for that big break to come along, though, i knew in my heart that it would never drop into my lap. Then again, i didn't think she would either. I asked her out to coffee, and she said to make it tea, so we did. there was a little English restaurant a few blocks down and it was a nice day so we walked in the warm summer sun. I tried not to take too many furtive glances at her, but she noticed a few times and i turned my head quickly, which she seemed to think was cute.
I'd known her since the first week of college, and we'd never really spoken until nearly a year in. She was studying English-i learned that from a mutual friend, along with her name-Rita.
I asked a lot of questions and mary (our mutual friend) laughed at me and said that I should go talk to her.
It still took me several weeks to build up the courage to speak to this raven haired goddess, this slice of absolute paradise given form. She had everything that i wanted. She wasn't tall, but was tall enough, and her eyes were bright, and brown and whenever i looked at them i saw what i wanted for the rest of my life. her hair was short, cut into a cute pixie style, and her body, well, a polite man doesn't describe the thoughts out loud. But, I never truly looked at her with a lustful or lecherous desire, more of an admiration, for never had one so fully captivated my mind.
She also wore glasses, which was a big bonus for me. Her skin was a dark sienna, and smooth as the voice that slithered it's way out of her perfect lips.
She was sitting there, reading a book of philosophy and tapping a pencil against her teeth thoughtfully when i finally walked up to her. I sat across from her, and she looked up, causing her hair to playfully brush against her cheek. She looked quizzically at me and I smiled nervously.
"hello, Rita. How're things?"
her face remained unchanged as she put her book onto the table and took a sip of her tea. i could smell the spice in it as it mixed gently with her perfume which i could not place. I wish i wasn't so nervous and hoped she didn't notice, though i knew her to be very perceptive, so there wasn little chance of that. I nearly bolted, until she said, in that sultry, sensual voice.
"I wondered what was taking you so long to talk to me."
We started a hesitant conversation. She was all that i wasn't. She knew her life plan, her goals and dreams, and was doing everything it took to get to them, while i was just sort of cruising, waiting for that big break to come along, though, i knew in my heart that it would never drop into my lap. Then again, i didn't think she would either. I asked her out to coffee, and she said to make it tea, so we did. there was a little English restaurant a few blocks down and it was a nice day so we walked in the warm summer sun. I tried not to take too many furtive glances at her, but she noticed a few times and i turned my head quickly, which she seemed to think was cute.
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