(Part 3 of ?)
Eventually Kevin became aware of a growing commotion in the central courtyard. A number of villagers had come in. Some of them were quite agitated. There was one word that he could make out: Ghost.
(Part 2 of ?)
Back in Houston, Barney was admiring his work. Serenity’s newly–regenerated skin gleamed under the lights of Building Seven. He was considering renaming the building 24/7, as he’d spent so much time here this past month. She’d come back in a rather dirty state, with volcanic rock dust everywhere on the outside and a couple of grinning fools on the inside.
I'm so blocked I could just scream! Which I guess I just did. The last couple of months have thrown personal and financial setbacks my way, and my muse crawled down some deep, dark hole where she is curled into a fetal position and is gibbering sadly to herself.
(In progress. Part 1 of ?)
November third, 2006. Jakar Dzong, Bumthang, North Central Bhutan.
He swirled the tea in his bowl and tried not to think about how cold he was. If this was fall, he wasn’t sure he could handle winter. At least not on a monk’s rations. For his metabolism it was essentially a fast. The smell of the butter lamps had him thinking about popcorn. Not much of a meditator yet, but he was quite new at this sort of thing. “OMmanipadmehung, ommanipadmehung, ommanipadmehung…
He’d been laying on the futon for a while now, listening to the sound of the waves. A seabird cried out nearby. He rolled onto his side so that he could see the beach. He smelled a memory of perfume and smiled.
He saw her walking towards the lanai. She was wearing layer upon layer of gauzy white fabric and a broad brimmed hat. She also had a parasol for another layer of thermonuclear shielding. More beautiful every day.
The hangar doors were open and the late evening sky threw its’ deep reds, hot and humid, into the interior of Building Seven. A Gulf Coast summer turns the outside world into a near-perfect replica of a dog’s mouth. Barney apparently had decided it was time to run all of the very loudest machines at once, raising the noise level to something quite inconvenient. Not the kind of atmosphere he’d hoped for.
I Will Fight No More
Travis Morales Is Dead… And Other Intellectual Bullshit
20:17 Mission Elapsed Time
He sat on the edge of the cliff, enjoying the cool night air on his face and the still warm stone under his backside. He gazed down into a great valley, miles wide and many more miles long. He saw many lights. Enough for a modestly sized city. But some of them moved. What where they a part of?
Voyage Of The Tired
10:48 hours, Mission Elapsed Time.
Fiona had made no pretense of a proper approach. Serenity had aligned herself with the runway about eighty kilometers out. With only engine two running to conserve what little fuel was left, they were coming in steep and fast.
Barney leaned forward. “I’ll be ready to start up number one if you need to go around.”
He stuck his head under the waterfall again, then threw it back, droplets slinging off his hair. Delicious. He settled himself down in the pool of water at the base, the black volcanic stones warm from the sunlight. The beach and breakers were just a few yards away. He’d built the lanai as close to the waterfall as he could. Pure, sweet water in abundance. All worth it.