OnePoint's Story Space

its a map!

2009-03-31T12:57:00.000-07:00

I would love Alex to use this in a show.

2009-03-10T15:42:00.000-07:00

Wow - that came out weird. I think Its a showtune judging from the tune in my head. It is definitely the unrepentant joyous outpourings of a career alcoholic. I'm not a career alcoholic. I'm strictly a part timer.

I dont care what you think
buuuut I like to drink
be it whisky or wine or beer

I like to go down the pub
or even out to a club
play some games get in good cheer

I know it will come
just after my world has spun
face on the floor I'm feeling queer

but the sick it will pass
drag myself up off my arse
find a drink and get in gear

Yeah my liver swims
in tequila and pimms
of absinthe and gin I've no fear

I'm always home in a trice
I wont remember it twice
fast asleep in my bed here

So lets go have a drink
a dance a chat or a think
for closing time is coming neeaaaaaarrr!

Smoke Me a Kipper, I'll be back for breakfast

2009-03-10T14:10:00.000-07:00

need storage - where better?. Check This TUNE! I cant wait to put the music from my head onto paper, but I need to buy new strings before I can work out how it sounds outside my head! Wooo Me!

Self indulgence

theres something about the way she moves the throws of her hair
the easy walk of life without a worry or care
but when I think of all the men that she must meet
it makes me turn away it makes me look at my feet

Cause I know I'm someone
one day fate will lead me right to where I belong
I know I'm someone
Passing the time writing me some songs

bridge
remember youve nothing to lose cause its all the same
ya get knocked back and yes its a shame
but lifes just like that and thats far too bad
why waste my time being sad

Cause I know I'm someone
one day fate will lead me right to where I belong
I know I'm someone
Everybodies lives go a little wrong
sometimes

J'enseigne moi-même une autre langue
écouté par moi-même à tous les sons

regarde la télévision et parler à des gens
dans ce que je trouve mon surround

So fuck you.

wanted : short story inspiration.

2006-03-14T12:32:00.000-08:00

not much more i need to say really.

oh yeah, I hate trying to think of character names, so Friends, beware, I plan on abusing all of your names as characters... Jason, I suspect you might be first! mwahhaahahahahaaaa

what what what?! and chapter one!

2006-03-14T11:51:00.000-08:00

Again, weakness, no story. But!!! I was invited to look at Trishys blog - ya gotta love Trishy, she's very cool - at www.trishmcdonough.com and I found a link to me here!! how scary! So much for having a little, quiet, out of the way blog, off the beaten track...where noone goes... I discover I'm linked to!! Now I'm going to have to croooz round all of my friends sites, to see if Trish is the only one, or if its pandemic! gahh i'm going to have to write a story. Or not, I'm going to cheat and put chapter one of my novel here... who knows who might stumble across it... I'm linked to!

Chaper one then :

The Central Mars station sits in orbit, far enough from the planet that from the bar there, you can see everywhere that people currently lived. Aboard the station there is a hotel, shope, docking space for over one hundred ships, and a single roomed bar. It is inside this bar that we meet Jake, a man who is far from his home, and is currently slumped, unconscious, next to a recently emptied glass. Jake used to work in a music shop, sadly, at the point we join him in this story, he is unemployed. Mart the barman in the aforementioned establisment, was watching Jake intently upon this day. It had been nearly twenty minutes since he'd served him his seventh 'Momentary Mind Loss', the signature cocktail of the tiny bar. So far, there'd been no movement, and at twenty minutes, he'd have to get out the sober spray. This was a highly effective mix of chemicals which affected the brain, instantly bringing them completely back to reality. As he reached for the can, he saw Jake shudder. No need for the spray then. That was good. Jake jerked upright, and looked around.
"Where am I?" he asked. "What happened?"
"You just enjoyed your last cocktail in this bar, friend" replied the barman. "Plus You were out cold for nearly half an hour that time. The effects will wear off soon." As an afterthought, the barman added "And thats another ten credits too."
As he leant back in his chair and looked around, Jake began to remember where he was, and how he'd got there. He was at Mars Station, the main hub for ships leaving to visit the asteroid belt. Almost as soon as he remembered, he wished he weren't. About a month or so back, he'd been getting drunk on Earth, to get over the fact that Audrey had left him. He'd seen a sign offering free flights for colonists to the moon and inner planets, and he'd signed up. Drunk enough to sleep on the ship that was leaving the next morning.
It had taken over a month to reach Mars, Jake had taken one look at the planet, and returned to the orbiting station. At least there wasn't any dust up there, and it was spacious, far more spacious than the ship that had brought Jake out here. Jake had moved into a room on the station, found there were no ships for earth anytime soon, and settled into the nearest bar.
"Did you not hear me?" the barman said as he approached. "That cargo ship I was telling you about is leaving in the next half hour, so you'd better get your skates on if you want to get aboard. Dock five. Oh, and remember you get to keep the glass with that cocktail'
Thinking fast for a change, Jake ordered a takeaway drink in his new glass and stumbled out. While he walked, he looked around at the miserable and not so miserable looking faces around him, and tried to guess why they left the comforts of Earth. The tall pale man was because the sun was getting too hot, the dread locked surfer dude for the kicks of spaceflight, the little old granny because... Jake stopped. 'What's a little old granny doing out at mars?' he mumbled to himself. The colonies had only been going ten years, and no one over 50 was eligible to travel. Mulling over this mystery, Jake took a swig of his drink, and hurried on.
As he neared dock five, Jake was looking through the station windows trying to get a glimpse of his new ship. He saw nothing. He got to the gate, looked through the window adjacent to the airlock and saw, space. The ship had left already, Just at that moment, as he turned around, he was knocked flying by a short man, wearing an obvious wig. The man was wheeling a crate of boxes into a badly painted purple box scarcely bigger than the crate that was heading inside. As he stumbled to his feet, Jake realised that the purple box was actually stood inside the airlock of dock five.
"Excuse me..." began Jake
"Cant you see I'm busy here? said the man, whose name was Gus. "I've got twenty of these to load, and we're meant be out of here in ten minutes". Gus left the crate filling the doorway of the purple box, and wandered back the way he had come.
As Jake wondered what he was to do, he noticed that the crate was disappearing into the purple box. Looking closer, Jake could clearly tell that the box, until recently, had been dark blue.
"And who, prey, are you?' heard Jake.
Standing in the doorway of the box was a man dressed as a ships captain. At least, dressed like a six year old that had been told to dress up like a captain.
“Um, Yes, I'm Jake Walker... I was told that I might be able to work for you to earn passage back to Earth”
“Jake Walker eh? Do you have your own head of hair?”. As Jake nodded, he continued. “Excellent, welcome to the crew. My only requirement is that a man still has is own hair. If you cant keep your hair in your head, how are you ever going to keep all my complicated instructions in there? This is our ship, the Distra. Come inside, and you can help shift some boxes.” The Captain waved a hand and disappeared inside the box. Following him, Jake found himself in a large circular room much bigger than the purple box he had entered, with a control column in the centre, and doorways on all sides. Each doorway had a single word written on it in large glowing letters. Through one of the doorways Jake could see several of the boxes that Gus had been loading aboard. They somehow looked much smaller inside.
So whats the cargo ' asked Jake?
'We're hauling some martian rum out to the belt, then on to the moon, then Earth, then back here for more rum. . Its all you can drink by the way, except on Mondays for you. There's seven of us, and one of us has to be sober, each day, just in case'
Jake grinned. This was going to be a nice trip. Much more comfortable than his month's trip out. The captain continued his monologue.
'Just in case of pirates. Plenty of space pirates about the asteroids you know. Always out to steal cargo, ships, even robots....' The captian glanced at Jeff, the previously unmentioned robot of the crew, who was shifting boxes. 'Theres only one man jack of the lot of them worth his salt, and thats - hey, give me that rum back'.
Jake reluctantly handed back the now slightly lighter bottle of rum.
'I know I said all you can drink, but get your own. No stealing the Captains rum. Now, Where was I?'
'You were going to tell me about the only decent pirate' said Jake.
'Plenty of pirates out there my boy. Decent enough at what they do too. Evil buggers. I've lost more than one cargo to them.'
'Anyways' spoke the captain, 'You should probably see the doctor before you start. Let him have a tug on that hair of yours, check its real.' The captain pointed towards a doorway marked Hospital, and gave Jake a little push. 'His name's Minsk' Jake went through, and found himself in an empty ward room. No, not empty. Someone was sleeping on the bed in the corner.
'Hello?' called Jake. He tried again, a little louder. Still no response. Jake wandered closer, and said loudly 'Doctor Minsk?'
The doctor awoke with a start.
'Yes Captain' he cried, leaping from his bed, 'The antidotes nearly ready, just a few more minutes.' Peering at Jake, he stopped. 'You're not the Captain.' The Doctor walked over to one of the cupboards and took out a bottle of rum. 'Hair of the dog' the doctor muttered as he took a swig. 'I take it you're here for your medical. Take off your shirt and sit over there.'
Jake did as he was told, and was subjected to a variety of pokes, prods, blood samples, urine tests, eye tests, ear examinations, X rays, and all those things that doctors do when they feel like being evil. Eventually it came to an end, and the doctor pronounced Jake to be in perfect health. Jake stood up and started a sentence.
'Thank you doctor-'
The doctor walked behind Jake, and had tugged hard on his hair.
'Yup thats real. No problems at all.'
'I'd thought the Captain was joking about that.' Jake moaned, clutching his head.
'Strict rule I'm afraid. Everyone must get checked. Captains orders. Now thats all over, welcome aboard. Care to join me in a little tot of rum? Call me Cory, its all pretty much first names around here. What did you say your name was?'
'Jake' said Jake.
Cory pointed to the only other door in the room Jake had entered. 'Well, through there is the lounge, its as good a place as any to put your feet up during the trip. Couple of crates of rum in there too.'
Jake went to the door and looked through the window.
'Who're they?'
The ships doctor joined him at the door, where he could see two men inside, clearly arguing heatedly.
'Oh, thats Trevor and Chin Yee, they're our security men. Trevor is an American, a gun nut, and was kicked out of the NRA for keeping an arsenal of unregistered weapons of all sizes, which he brought to a meeting, all good, until the anti aircraft gun on the back of his pickup was used to shoot down a news helicopter, all bad. His attitude towards anything unknown, or known to be bad, is to blow it up. Chin Yee works in a completely different fashion. Yee is calm and collected, and waits for his moment. Then he strikes with blistering speed, deadly accuracy, and no one quite knows what's happened. Right now, they're both blind drunk, Trev's pissed off as this new ship doesn't have any weapons, or none we could find anyhow, and Yee's pissed off because when Trevor is in one of his moods, Yee can't meditate. I don't think we'll be going into the lounge. Might as well rest up here in the infirmary, I'll tell the Captain you're in for observation.'
As if on cue, the Captain walked into the room.
'Get ready for takeoff chaps, next stop, Asteroid Nine. Did I hear you say you were keeping the boy in for observation,
Cory? Damn shame I was hoping he'd join me in a little drinking competition to welcome him aboard.'
'Sorry Captain, but Jake has to stay right here in the infirmary.'
The Captain snorted. 'Just have to wait till tommorow then. Oh hang about, tommorows monday. cant do that. Have to make it tuesday' and with that, he left Jake and the doctor alone once more.
'I thought you said i was in perfect health' enquired Jake.
'True, true, you are. Still, I need to observe your rum capacity.'
'My What??' said Jake
Presenty, there was a bang and a whoosh, and Jake could almost hear the Captain shout 'Whooopeee!!' as the ship was launched. The doctor pulled up two chairs, and plonked a full bottle of rum on the table.
'Ice?' he asked.
Three hours, and two litres of rum later, Jake was feeling slightly worse for wear.
'Doctor-'
'Call ne Cory, please'
'Cory then...' Jake seemed to have forgotted what he was about to say. He knew it was in his heas somewhere, but for the life of him he couldnt figure it out. There it was! 'I saw a granny out there on the station.'
'A granny?' Cory looked confused.
'Yup. She must have been ninety if she was a day'
'No no no no no. Thats not possible. Noone over 50 is allowed off earth. Noone out here has been here more than a few years. Cant have been a granny.' He coughed. 'Its the rum. You're imagining things already. Best keep all this to myself.' Jake struggled to move as the doctor put the bottle to his mouth and drained the last few shots, but found himself unable.
'Just... going.. to... rest...my eyes......' he murmured, as his head dropped towards the table.
'Gotcha' said Cory, opening a cupboard. Taking out a can of sober spray, he sprayed a cloud over Jake. Bam, within seconds, Jake was completely sober, and wondering why his head was on the table.
'What happened?'
'You lost, my dear boy. I was forced to use the spray to keep you upright. One of the perks of my job, easy access to this stuff.' Cory winked at Jake. 'Time for round two. Fresh bottle of rum, coming right up. See if you can beat me next time.'
More hours passed, and more rum was consumed. Jake was sure he was getting the better of Cory this time, but once again, he found his head beginning to droop. Cory helped him lie down on one of the beds. 'You just sleep it off there, and we'll see how you are in the morning.'

***

When he awoke, Jake found himself alone. Havng no clothes other than the ones he was wearing, he decided not to bother having a shower or having a shave. Besides, he'd only even seen three rooms inside this spaceship. Three massive rooms, inside a tiny little box. How did that work? Peering through the window into the adjacent lounge, he spied the man he had seen loading the crates the day before.
`'Might as well meet the crew' he murmured to himself. '
As he entered, Gus looked up. 'Sleep well? How do you like the ship?'
'I'm Jake' said Jake. 'What's your name?'
'The moniker is Gus' said the badly wigged one.
'And what do you do around here? just move boxes?'
Gus laughed. It was a long, and vaguely evil sounding laugh, and Jake felt more than slightly discomforted by it. When he had finished laughing, some time later, Gus continued.
'No, I'm the mechanic. Spaceships break down sometimes, got to get fixed, haven't they. Besides, I've moved my last box, you're the new little fish.'
Suddenly, Jake understood the laugh.
'So how did you get into being a spacecraft mechanic? I always dreamed of that when I was a kid. '
'Me? I've always just been handy with a spanner. I got a meccano set when I was five, and it just kinda progressed from there. Bikes as a kid, then sneaky joyriding in cars, boats and motorbikes as a teen... now I'm up to spaceships. They all work on the same principle really. Never anything a bit of gaffa and a spanner cant fix.'
'Um, isnt a spaceship a bit more complicated than a bicycle?' asked Jake.
“Nope, you've just got a bloody big engine to drive the pedals. Keep it all held together nice and tight with gaffa, and its all good”. Gus replied, and that was the end of that it seemed. They sat in silence in the lounge, drinking their respective drinks once more. 'Of course... sometimes things do go a bit tits up.' added Gus after about five minutes. 'Then its a case of pulling out all the bits that are on fire, and using the gaffa and a bit of tinfoil to patch up the connections'.
Jake looked at the walls. 'Are you telling me that this spaceship is held together and flying using nothing but gaffa tape?'
'No, no, this one hasn't needed any repairs since we got it. Strange that, normally I get through a good few rolls of gaffa on a journey. Got a spare box or two of the stuff at the mo.'
'Oh, when did you get it? recently?'
'Um, well, we were getting our old ship mended in the Venus dry docks, when this bloke turns up out of nowhere, starts shouting things about the end of the world, and aliens, and the day of judgment, so we cleared out quick. We were getting wrecked with the dock doc that day, so we just went to the hangar and asked for the doctors ship. Out they come with this little blue box, key in the door(thank you valet parking). The Doc was going to kick up a fuss about his shiny new sporty ship, but by then I'd opened the door and seen inside. Bit better inside aint it. Plus, its small enough that we can bring it through an airlock. So we were given it, but when the world never ended, we thought maybe we should give it a paint job.' Gus lowered his voice conspiratorially 'Tell you what though mate, between you and me, this ship... I don't have a clue how it works. If it gets f*cked, we're f*cked.'
'Isn't there a manual' asked Jake. 'Most complicated things have a manual when you get them.'.
'No there isn't a sodding manual. I've looked. At least I've looked in every room I've been in. This bleeding ship goes on forever.' Gus opened and then took a long swill on a fresh bottle of Martian rum.
'Want some rum?' Gus offered the bottle to Jake.
Taking the bottle, Jake took a swig. Hair of the dog and all that he thought to himself.
The Captain entered.
'Not drinking on a Monday I hope Jake. I'll forgive you, as its your first day. No more mind, and you can give me that bottle.'
As he drank, the Captain explained that Asteroid Nine, their destination, was only a few hours further away. Jake, as the sober member of crew, had to be the one to radio and request landing permission upon arrival. More impending doom thought Jake.
'Righty ho, I'm off to have a nap.' The Captain picked up the now nearly empty bottle of rum as we went. 'Might as well have a nightcap.' Draining the bottle, he staggered from the room.

A note on the blog reduction.

2006-03-13T05:22:00.000-08:00

I had to delete a chunk of my blog, as unruly elements of my mind had come and written things that shouldnt have been in the public domain. Many thanks to Trish for making me realise that. There is still the possibility that some stuff shouldnt be here, but i hope you'll all just ignore it if you see it.

Thankee

Paul.

Darkside 2: the short story.

2006-02-13T14:48:00.000-08:00

before I begin this story, I'd like to make an observation about my motivations for writing it. Buried deep, deep within my mind, is an untold reservoir of anger, of jealousy, selfishness, and malicious intent, against which I fight every day and night to be the person I am. Inevitably, these negative emotions have to come out somehow, and it seems that they always direct themselves at me. I hate it when I upset or disappoint the people I care about most, and I manage that frequently.

The following came from somewhere else in my mind where people should tread softly.

Memoir of a Murderer.

(sorry guys, i was going to put up my latest story, but I'm still having troubles with the fact it came out of my mind - its a bit scary. Currently this story is under my bed, where i wont run across it by accident.)

darkside

2005-10-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

I'm full of things to put in the book, but i'm concerned about the dark side. I want a light and fluffy book, dont I ?

In the meantime I wrote another short story the other night... in which I let the scarier side of my head out for a walk in the park. The story is very darkside, so much so I'm not sure I want people to know what sort of evil thought is allowed to live behind my eyes where only I can see.

Anyways, Darkside it is, and darkside will be coming to this post, probably tommorow.

(additional - this post has been reduced as I'm also reserving other parts of my mind that inadvertently popped out when I was posting.... its a shame... very few people will have read what I wrote about eyes!)

what started as a story became an interesting diary entry.

2005-10-14T17:07:00.000-07:00

(authors note to self... write song - hole in the head, bah crap its coming out now... at least a dodgy first draft)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hole in the Head.

I found a hole in my head
where things bleed through
my life ebbs away
what can I do
its a hole in my brain
where knowlege drains
of the things I say and do

Chorus:( first line changes??)
There's a hole in my head
a hole in my head
it makes me confused
am I alive or am I dead
There's a hole in my head
a hole in my head
is this a dream, can I wake up
instead

theres a place in me
where I can go
a place that the world
i'll never show
somewhere for the life that i must hide
somewhere for the darkness i keep inside
a place where i can be with you
the hole in my head that i fell through

Chorus

oh i wish and I wish and I wish and I wish
for a better life my friend

with you.

---

NaNoWriMo

2005-10-12T17:47:00.000-07:00

bah dede dah dedah! I'm starting my NaNoWriMoCrusade with a post on this blog. I will probably write a couple of short stories during nanowrimo, but i'm going to need a seperate outlet for blasting the book while i'm writing. I will undoubtedly post a couple of extracts, expect one every couple of days after the end of the second week I suppose, maybe 500 of every three thousand words I write. Obviously it'll end up that you can read the first couple of chapters on here, and then I'm going to hope there's enough interest that some sound minded publishing company decides to pay me for the manuscript, and delivers you all from never knowing the ending.

All that aside I would appreciate any feedback, any constructive criticism, and any proofreading that anyone would care to offer. At the end of November, I hope to have something I can send off to try and get published, and then see what comes along from there. Still unsure about genre, but I think Sci-Fi or Fantasy is probably the easiest. That's always been what I've read the most of, and it allows for the greatest potential for events... you can do anything in the future ;)

Or on a different planet. Oooh first contacts are always fun. Yay I love Star Trek. And Doctor Who, and Red Dwarf, and Battlestar Galactica, (and Anna: ed = hey it came out of my mind at that moment ok). On that note, I'm going to concentrate on writing about the aliens, so that I can abuse this post and nick words into my novel. Well, if its good enough.

oooh a chance for a futuristic psuedo-military alienfactfile.

Alien Species name: Tortorians
Human Name : Torbellino (whirlwind) nasmed by spaniard who first saw them
Alien homeworld : Tortoria - very different to earth - hot molften stuff maybe, whatever they are they're going to be succeptible to water and not a whole lot else.
Human Name Torbellinos -
Distance from earth ; 17 light years

Lifespan : 300 years

laalalala bored with that, must be I was dreaming again. same as always. y'know, this summer some of my friends have described me as an idealist,as pitiable and admirable at the same time, as 'saving myself for a no-hoper', as a waste of space, as the last of the romantics, as underpaid, as overpaid, and I'm honestly fed up of it all. I hate to say this, but I dont want to know what you think of me.

It does me head in it does, having to exist in the 'real world' Why cant I just be happy in the 'PauL's MiND PLaY aRea', open seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year. Today, I have only eaten Chinese food. Tomorrow, I think it will be Indian. I wonder what alien food would be like. Would they have similar vegetables and animals to us? Would they even consume food in the same way as us?

Is it better to do a first contact when we contact aliens, or when aliens contact us? If I set it when aliens contact us, then I can be all political in it, and talk about my single world government ideas some more, but if i set it when we are contacting them, then I can have a whole fleet of human ships all over space, which is how i'd love it to be. Maybe I can have both somehow.

Hmmm.. maybe i'm avoiding crowds? I dont seem to have very good crowd - interaction at the moment. bit of an aside that, but it used to be accompanied with a few hundred words that should never have escaped my mind.... so i've deleted them!

2005-09-01T18:48:00.000-07:00

Jeremy Plant : Cant cant cant follow rankin and have the man in the pub. need something different. bookshop done with black books. library a crap plan, same for any religious fiction.

Cinema a possible.

damn i picked a pub. Well Mr Rankin, Jim 'n John i'm afraid might have inspired another pair of adventurous pub drinkers, named Nathan and Orville. As I have a book signed by you 'Paul, with the big hair - my bestest friend, Robert Rankin' I'm sure you'll not mind.

Pick Location. Base fictional universe around it.

Characters : Nathan Valance
Orville Ellis

Location

Pubs : : the Fort bit dodgy, but the place for pool :)

: The Gherkin better beer and fruities

The Choke old school and good for a pint when ratted

Scram shit club

shops Guitar shop. Nathan Plays Bass, works in Guitar Shop

chippy

Character Development:

2005-09-01T18:37:00.000-07:00

Story written from the view of another race. Homeworld, similar atmospheric contiditions to earch, but with slightly less gravity.

Jadia - female pod creature - wander in the woods type

Stik - male pod creature. hunter gatherer type, part of a larger team of hunter gatherers who work for the commune Zhalat.

Zafiph - Stiks boss at the commune, the alright sort.

(ed: why am i doing this now? And will i ever use it for anything?)

pay me to write, you know you want to!

2005-07-11T10:39:00.000-07:00

oh yeah by the way if anyone likes these, and thinks they're worth compiling into a book someday, or wants to pay me to write longer, more intricate stories, you only have to say so!

There's already a couple more on the way, a bit of kiddie fiction, cause no matter how implausible, they'll believe it... and also a coupla sci fi short stories... there's bazillions of ideas up here.. and i'd love to get paid to put them out.

My second short story: Bomb Squad.

2005-07-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

Bomb Squad

I had less than an hour, and I was still in the city. That wouldn’t do. I looked right, at the cut open seat beside me, and wondered once more just how I got into this position.

I’d started out, ten years ago, a city cop on the beat in San Diego. The city was generally peaceful, the weather good, and it was nice to work outdoors in the open air and sunshine. I’d done that for several years, about four or five, and then I’d moved to the bomb squad as it made an extra ten grand a year. Hazard money, I realised now, but back in those days, I’d never have imagined the situations it would lead me into.

We’d been called out on this particular day, by a couple of the boys from my old precinct, they’d apprehended a most wanted terrorist, sadly the last thing he managed to do before he was in custody was to push a rather non-standard looking button on the dash of his car, one of the latest model ford pickups. He’d already been shot, wounded to disable him, so that he couldn’t escape, but there was something eerie about the way this guy had smiled while he pushed the button that made the guys think to call in me and my squad to check the car over.

Lucky they had. It took my team all of five minutes to check the car, trace the wires, and then cut the leather from the passenger seat. You guessed it, a fully armed, ticking bomb. That wasn’t the worst of it though, there was no way we could remove the bomb to detonate it safely, these guys had been smart. The entire seat had been built around the bomb, and they’d used the metal runners at the base as an electrical contact. Remove the seat, it goes off. Remove the bomb from the seat, it goes off. There wasn’t even any wires, the metal used to give the seat shape had been used instead, so there was no way of defusing it.

Judging from the volume of the chemical chambers, it was going to be a massive blast, enough to take out a good few buildings on a city block. Far too large to allow it to detonate in San Diego city limits. There was nothing for it but to drive the car out into the desert, and let the bomb detonate naturally.

As head of the team sent to check out the car, it was my call. That meant the dubious honour of driving the car out to the desert would be mine, and mine alone. I couldn’t order any of my men into that position, but nor could I let that explosion happen inside the city.

I set off pretty quick, but the timer had only had an hour on it, and it had taken precious time to get my team there and find the bomb. I had about forty minutes left, and it was the busiest time of day, traffic was heavy and the interstate jammed. I cursed the truck, I was used to flicking on the sirens and having the road open up before me, this was not going to be fun.

Finally, a gap in the fast lane. I squeezed the truck up, and wondered some more about whether I’d get through this day with my life.

At least the traffic was starting to move now, gradually the spaces in front began to widen, and the highway built up some speed. This was more like it, doing seventy miles an hour, I’d get to the desert and have a good few minutes to run before the explosion. Only twenty minutes though. Not much.

So I’m in the outside lane, about seventy, as I say, when in front of me a Lexus pulls out to overtake, doing spot on the limit, fifty-five. The car on his right is doing close to the limit, and its taking a long time. I beep, flash my headlights at him, but he doesn’t speed up any, in fact he flips me the bird, and even slows down slightly. That made me pissed, if you know what I mean. I’m sat next to how much high explosive, and this is the shit I have to deal with.

Well, without sirens, I’d just have to encourage him a different way. I still had my service revolver in my holster, and I’d practised religiously on the police shooting ranges ever since I became a cop. You never knew when you might need that gun, and you’d damn well better be able to use it.

I took careful aim, and missed. An inch too far wide, or too high of the mark. I took aim again. Its not an easy thing to drive a car and shoot a gun accurately out of the window, but somehow my second shot was right on target. The drivers side wing mirror on the Lexus exploded as my bullet hit it, and almost instantly the Lexus slammed on the brakes. That hadnt been my intention, I wanted to scare him into speeding up, or at the very least getting out of my way. It was all I could do to keep from going into the back of him. Sixteen minutes left, and I’m stock still again. Not good.

The driver of the lexus got out, and he was holding a gun of his own.
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at” he shouted, as he approached the car. I took a deep breath, and stepped out myself. The guy took a double take as he saw my uniform, full kevlar body armour, shoulder holster, and the words “BOMB SQUAD” in large white capitals across my chest.
He was quick to recover though, and quickly threw his own gun through an open window of his car, and onto a seat. Good choice I thought.

“I hope you realise you’re still in the shit, officer” he spoke, gesturing at his damaged wing mirror.

I didn’t have time for this prick. I grabbed his arm, twisted, and slammed his head hard against my windshield. “See that passenger seat?” I asked him. “That’s more explosive than I’ve ever seen in one place before, and I’ve been doing this job five years. Its all going to explode, in about ten minutes, and if we’re still here, theres not going to be any of your precious Lexus, let alone you, so I’d be a little more careful about what you say and do. Now shift that fucking car, as I’ve not got the time, and I do have more important things to do.”

My strongarm tactic did the trick. I let go of his arm, and he ran back to his car, suddenly very pale. Wheels smoking, the Lexus took off. Clearly he wanted to put some space between himself and my car, and he’d forgotten all about his damned mirror.

At last, moving again, I glance at the timer. Six minutes. That should be just enough time. I hit my off ramp with about two minutes left, it led onto a desert road that led to a small town, perfect. As soon as I could, I turned the Ford off the road and onto the sand. At this point, I was only too glad that the car was a new Ford pickup, as it coped with the sand fairly well as a surface. As I crested the first dune, I leapt from the drivers door, and not a moment too soon, as before I finished rolling, I could feel the tremendous heat from the blast washing over me.

After that, I don’t remember too much, I remember trying to radio for help, but I was a long way from San Diego, out of range, and there was no response.

I woke up here, in the hospital. I’m told that everyone in the nearby town heard the explosion, and saw the smoke plume. I was found by the local sherrif, who contacted the SDPD to let them know where I was, and to find out what had happened. They in turn arranged for me to be transferred to this hospital, to get treatment for my injuries and shock. I’d been all over the news that night, a State hero, commended for bravery, and given time off at full pay to recover, even given the key to the city. That was nice to hear as I lay in my hospital bed.

A much bigger shock was lying in wait a few days ahead though, when I returned to work. A certain lexus driver had seen me on TV, and made a formal complaint about the damage I’d done to his car. Some people just have no appreciation for the job we do, I mean, whats a couple of grands damage to his car, compared to a couple of buildings coming down in a city centre? What a fucker.

My first short story!

2005-07-09T14:01:00.000-07:00

The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.

The most foolish man in the world was happy. He was young, free, and he’d just met the most beautiful girl in the world, or so he thought. Supermodels were thought highly of, but not by the most foolish man in the world, he thought they were all too plasticky, snooty, and generally full of themselves. What good does looking pretty do if theres no depth to a character? Noo, the most foolish man in the world liked real people, with real beauty, easily visible inside as well as out.

They had sat next to one another on a bus, randomly struck up a conversation, he had made her laugh, and with that slightest of smiles he’d caused, he was lost. All he could think about was her, how wonderful she looked, how amazing the sound of her laughter was, and how lucky he would be to have her.

A happy co-incidence, the most foolish man in the world also happened to be the luckiest man in the world, according to himself, as no matter how foolishly he behaved, everything still seemed to work itself out. So, after much suffering in silence, the foolish man tried his luck, and asked the most beautiful girl in the world if she wouldn’t date him.

Praise be! To his surprise and joy, she agreed, and pretty soon after, they were inseperable.

Could it last? The most foolish man in the world believed it would, so imagine his dismay when the most beautiful girl in the world moved many miles away, to a town far from anywhere the foolish man could reach. The fool was devastated, but they stayed together, or tried to anyways, but it is hard when you can only see each other one week in ten. Even so, the foolish man was happy, as nothing could shake his faith in his love.

One day, the most beautiful girl in the world was out walking, when she stumbled and fell. She was helped up by a man of about her age, who invited her to join him for a drink. She agreed, flattered by the attention, and went along. While they drank, he paid her compliments, and made her laugh, and pretty soon she’d forgotten all about the foolish foolish man who loved her, many miles away.

The most foolish man in the world was devastated, even more devastated than he’d been when she moved away, but he was determined that he wouldn’t lose her forever. He tried to stay friends with her, and it worked for a long time that way, only seeing each other once or twice in a year, but he was always wishing that she would realise her mistake, and come back to the man who loved her most.

Out of lonliness, the foolish man agreed to date another pretty girl, she asked him out, and he was so amazed that he agreed on the spot. He could make her laugh and smile, and she could make him laugh and smile too, and they imagined that together they could be happy. It worked for a while, until the fool realised that the most beautiful girl in the world lived close by again, and he could see her more often. He kept trying to be friends with the most beautiful girl in the world, but anytime he saw her he was plunged into a dark part of his mind where nothing could ever be reconciled.

He realised that compared to her, noone in the world was worth being around, even though she’d broken his heart when she left him years before. He split up with his girlfriend, and told the most beautiful girl in the world how he felt.

What a fool he was!

He left a loving relationship, so that he could pursue someone he’d loved a decade before, and of course, he was turned down, for the most beautiful girl in the world was disinterested. “Stop living in the past” she told him.

For the next several years, the most foolish man in the world was confused. He’d followed his heart, bared his soul, opened himself up to being hurt, and that’s just what had happened. He started to resent the fact that the most beautiful girl in the world wouldn’t give him a chance, as she thought she knew him, for he had changed a lot since the days of his youthful innocence, when they had been so happy before. She didn’t know him, how could she know she wasn’t interested in him? It had been a decade, more, and they’d both changed. All he wanted was the chance to get to know her again, but it was not to be.

The most foolish man in the world stewed for days, weeks, months, eventually years had passed, and the foolish man hated how lonely he had become. He blocked the most beautiful girl from his thoughts, pretended that he’d never met her, told himself that she wasn’t real, and that the time he’d spent with her in his youth had been nothing but a wonderful dream.

It was only once he had managed to do this that he found some semblance of happiness, though he’d been so hurt that he couldn’t bear to allow anyone close to him, for fear the same would happen to him again.

One day, whilst wandering in the park, late at night, looking at the stars, he accidentally stepped onto someones leg, causing them to cry out in pain. He looked down, apologizing profusely, and sat down to make sure she was alright. Soon they were chatting like old friends, she was smiling and laughing, and all thoughts of the foolish man’s clumsiness were forgotten.

Within a few moments, she was the most beautiful girl in the world……