Dashiel Hammett

born 27th May 1894

Zeke was led to a brightly lit room with another furry blue alien, this one wearing clothes of a sort. It was a simple grey outfit much like a suit. Its fur looked like it had some sort of palmade and it was impeccably groomed. Zeke might have thought it was a diplomat like the aliens said if it hadn't been for the fact that it reminded him of the banker who had handled his wife's will. Damn banker took even the house. Other than what he did overhear from the aliens.
The alien was introduced as Ambassador Summer. While it talked Zeke heard thoughts like tally marks peppering the conversation. THings like...oxygen breather...followed by pecentages of nitrogen and other gases...six....something percentage tall....weight....intelligence low...gullable...bad smelling...sensitive to light....etc.
"I hope you don't mind if we take a few tests so that we can bring such an imposing representative of his species before our monarch," it was saying. WHile thinking, "Diseased...addicted to nicotine...caffine...and various other substances...weaknesses obviously. Must get data to see if it has any use whatsoever. If worth enough will be shown to the head office so I can get a propper bonus for once...if not, I can always sell it to a zoo I suppose."
Zeke was suprised at the gall of the alien. He hadn't met a bigger liar than old Maynard at Tom's bar. Maynard would swear he fought in the war and aske for drinks. Maynard claimed to have been in Korea. Maynard was six when Korea was happening. THe war wound he sported was from cutting wood with a circular saw when he was drunk not from throwing an enemy grenade back. Maynard also claimed to have invented numerous things from fuel injection to bikinis. His stories were entertaining and that made him a better liar than the aliens.
Zeke struck up another smoke just to watch "Ambassador" Summer's nose twitch. "Tests?" he asked innocently, "Like paper and pen or needles and blood?"
"Needles?What is a needle?" the ambassador asked while thinking,"Primitive culture. A swab and a Quidex scan should work...it would be fun to jab a needle into him though...have not used those things in ages..."
Zeke definately did not like how things were headed. Happily he still had his bucknife. "I gotta take a leak," he replied.
Summer looked like a cat that had been petted the wrong way after being covered in dog slobber. "We have facilities down the hall," he said in an irritated way while wondering if this farce was even worth it. Zeke got the impression that summer wanted to do an autopsy old fashioned style on him while he was still breathing. Yeah, Zeke decided, he didn't really like these guys too much. They were like his wife when she used to get pissed at him. Only her weapon of choice was thrown wrenches from his own tool box. She would start out nice, which was a big hint...then start chucking crescent wrenches...the time she lodged a plumber's wrench into the wall he thought he was a goner. Man it was nice and quite until these dang aliens came in to foul things up. All he wanted was a little peace. Obviously that was too much to ask for.

Nirvana:hi again Nirvana.

Horseman: nice to see you again!

Now most people thought aliens were little guys with big black eyes, no nose, and a tiny mouth. Boy were they mistaken. At least for the type of alien that kidnapped Zeke and his groceries. These were about regular human size and bipedal. THey were covered in blue fur, and unbeknownst to Zeke had three sexes (male,female, and incubator...but enough about that for now). They had fangs, retractable claws, catlike eyes, and tails. Pale blue underbelly fur contasted the royal blue of the rest of their fur. For some reason Zeke could not help thinking of them as muppets...well, evil muppets that is.
It really ticked him off because his beer was getting warm. Damn aliens. Didn't even offer to put it in a fridge for him, he thought. Absolutely no manners. Angrily, Zeke lit a smoke with his zippo figuring that with such ill-mannered handling he didn't much give a damn if the alien's complained. He didn't ask to be sucked up into their flying saucer. He had places to be. He was going to ask becky out. Man, he had been looking forward to it. Besides he wanted to go fishing on sunday after church. Dang aliens. He finished his smoke and began to chew some of the black jack gum.
It was at this point a couple of the aliens came in and introduced themselves. They said that they were from some place humans called Sirius and seemed a little disgruntled that its common name was the Dog Star. They had a little telepathic ability, but sometimes their own thoughts leaked out. It was like while you were talking to them you could hear whispering at the same time. Apparently they told him that they wanted to make contact with the human species, that they were peaceful, that they had lots of technology to give us, etc. WHile at the same time he heard their thoughts...things like how he was a sample for the buyers at Elgoran. That it would be simple to round all the stupid humans up. How primative these things were. Why would anyone want one anyway? And a vast number of insulting insinuations leaking out. Apparently they could not read Zeke's mind. Weird. It was like listening in on a radio channel you didn't get normally while still hearing the local music. Dang aliens. As they smirkingly withdrew, convinced they had conned the stupid human into thinking that they were taking him to meet their ambassador (who was really just a biological salesman) he tapped his gum into the fur of one of the aliens. He did it by poking it from behind and getting its attention.
"SO you guys like humans then?" he'd asked when he did so.
"Of course,"lied the alien," We have so much to teach you." Continued with thoughts of cages, possible ways of cooking, slave possibilities...It seemed that biological specimens were one of the major means of trade in the galaxy.
Zeke pulled ou another peice of gum. Damn aliens.

Zeke didn't believe in aliens. His crazy father in law did....well back before the accident with the train. He was just a good ol boy trying to make his way in the world. He was born in this small town. He always thought that he'd grow old and die there too. After his wife and father in law had died...it just seemed so peaceful.
He walked out of the five and dime with his weekend supplies. He had about a case of Miller Highlife, a carton of Luckies, some black jack gum, a couple bags of Lays potato chips, and a few other things. It looked like it would be a good weekend.
Zeke was about 5'10 although he tried to convince people he'd made it to 6'0. He was a lanky man. Not skinny. Not weak. He was one of those men who looked thin, but had toned muscles like wire. He'd worked all his life. Little of it was not physical, although he'd been to college and graduated. There was something about office politics he could never stomach, sales jobs just seemed like robbery by pen, and banks that used to pay interest now nickle and dimed people so much that it might as well be theft. Nope. He preferred the feeling of building a shed, or feeding his neighbor's livestock. It made sense. It didn't make him feel dirty this kind of work. Well, morally dirty. He liked the feeling of a good sweat from honest labour.
As he made his way to the old ford pick up. His steel-tipped workman's boots were worn and mud splattered, but that had not stopped him from flirting with Becky behind the counter. He was thinking about going back in ta ask her if she wanted to get something to eat later when IT happened.
"IT" was the big flash of white light that half-blinded him. At first he thought it was the legacy from some youthful experiments with chemicals. Then he found himself on the ship.

Born 22nd May 1859
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
physician/author d: 1930

born 20th May:

Honore de Balzac

Born 19th May 1934

James Lehrer:

wrote:
Purple Dots; Blue Hearts; White Widow; The Special Prisoner; Flying Crows; Kick the Can; Crown Oaklahoma; A Bus of my Own; This Just In; Black.

Skyking: and Cranky Franky: it is a story tag, so if anyone can add to it please do. But I will keep going anyway!

Nirvana: Don't do it Dave, don't help him! It's a trick! This isn't part of the story tag but the suspense is killing me. Come on Nirvana, tell us what happens next!!

Nirvana: If this is a story tag, it shouldn't be. It's great and you should be the one telling it.

Yet Another Scrabble Tournament
All welcome to join !

Lynman Frank Baum
wrote 'Wizard of Oz'

Edward Lear

Sir James Barrie
best known for creating Peter Pan.

Harper Lee

Jessie Redmon Fauset

MindyzTaken: neat story

Sue Grafton

Robert Penn Warren

William Shakespeare

Henry Fielding

The Bronte Parsonage Museum

We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the night. This night's call was no different. Jerking up to the ringing summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight. Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?"

My heart pounded, I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face my side of the bed.

"Mama?" I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter. When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.
"Mama, I know it's late. But don't...don't say anything, until I finish. And before you ask, yes, I've been drinking. I nearly ran off the road a few miles back, and..."

I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn't right.

"And I got so scared. All I could think about was how it would hurt you if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I want...to come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've been worried sick. I should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..."

Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my daughter's face in my mind and my fogged senses seemed to clear. "I think--"

"No! Please let me finish! Please!" She pleaded, not so much in anger, but in desperation.

I paused and tried to think what to say. Before I could go on, she continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I shouldn't be drinking now...especially now, but I'm scared, Mama. So scared!"

The voice broke again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes fill with moisture. I looked at my husband who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"

I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the room, returning seconds later with the portable phone held to his ear.

She must have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are you still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so alone."

I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.

"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we talk, you just keep telling me what I should do. You read all those pamphlets on how to talk about sex and all, but all you do is talk. You don't listen to me. You never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren't important. Because you're my mother you think you have all the answers. But sometimes I don't need answers. I just want someone to listen."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my nightstand. "I'm listening," I whispered.

"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control, I started thinking about the baby and taking care of it. Then I saw this phone booth, and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home."

"That's good, Honey," I said, relief filling my chest. My husband came closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine. I knew from his touch that he thought I was doing and saying the right thing.

"But you know, I think I can drive now."

"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened, and I tightened the clasp on my husband's hand. "Please, wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on me until the taxi gets there."

"I just want to come home, Mama."

"I know. But do this for your mama. Wait for the taxi, please."

I listened to the silence in fear. When I didn't hear her answer, I bit into my lip and closed my eyes. Somehow I had to stop her from driving.

"There's the taxi, now."

Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing.

"I'm coming home, Mama." There was a click, and the phone went silent.

Moving from the bed, tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into the hall and went to stand in my sixteen-year-old daughter's room. The dark silence hung thick. My husband came from behind, wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We have to learn to listen," I said.

He pulled me around to face him. "We'll learn. You'll see." Then he took me into his arms, and I buried my head in his shoulder.

I let him hold me for several moments, then I pulled back and stared back at the bed. He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know she dialed the wrong number?"

I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't such a wrong number."

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled young voice came from under the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring into the darkness. "We're practicing," I answered.

"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes already closed in slumber.

"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over her cheek.

Thornton Wilder

http://www.eduplace.com/tales/

Henry James (died 1916)

Arnold Toynbee (died 1975)

We still need another 5 players if anyone is interested in joining in.


N & C's Needle Match

Winnie:
when LSA was little he wandered off in Sainsbury's. While we were looking for him he was at the main entrance playing with the alarm setting and managed to close the main doors!
On a different occaision Ciminod pressed the red alarm button behind the check out girl on the next til to where I was packing shopping and set the alarms off.

When mummy was little she wouldent stop pushing buttons one day mummy was at a doctor who exhibition and found abutton now you know her she pushed the button and a great big dalek popped out it scared her so much she never pushed a button (unless she knew what it did) again!

One day a young lad named Tom opened the door to the Kingdom to get what he wanted...A 10 speed bike to replace the one he ran into a ditch a while ago. What he got was broken roller skates instead...

can't you make it so you dont have to be rated ot play? i can never enter cos i havent got a rating

sLaMdAnCe: worth the wait. Thank you, Slam.

parts..

It was Christmas Eve 1977, when my platoon was sent to Bethlehem to help calm
the unrest that had started a week previous. The thought of policing demonstrators
disturbing worship at the Church of The Nativity was not something we were looking
foward to...
let the local cops or military police handle it. It was not the first
time we were assigned such duty, twice before we were sent into the Rafah refugee
camp in the Gaza Strip, so we knew what to expect.
To our surprise things went smoother than we anticipated and with the help of
the local clergy, we were able to disperse the crowd without firing a shot.
As things quieted down, we allowed the worshippers to enter the church. It was
close to midnight and we were about to return to our base.
As I exited the church, I bumped into a nun, knocking her down.
I extended my hand, apologizing as I helped her to her feet. She was black and
from her accent I could tell she was British. As she thanked me, she smiled and
I looked into her eyes. I stared at her amazed...her eyes were dark brown, but
what gripped me was the light in them. I had never seem anything as wonderful as
that light. It was love, joy, compassion...understanding.
Embarrased, I broke my gaze and lowered my eyes, now fixing on the cross that
hung from her neck.
"That is beautiful!" I said.
She reached down and removed it from around her neck..
"Here" she said, extending her arm, offering it me.
"No, I cant take that" I said, my eyes now fixing on her's again.
She then took my left hand, put the cross in it closing my fingers, still holding
my hand in her's she told me.."G-d wants you to have this". I was instantly
aware of a warmth washing over me, and could not speak as she nodded, walking
past me into the church. I looked down, opening my hand I looked again at the
cross's simple beauty. I put it in the left pocket of my parka, zipping it while I
trotted to the truck that would take us back to base.


Just over a month had passed. It was Friday, I had finished my medical training
as a squad medic and had recieved my transfer orders. I was packing to go home
for the weekend when i heard the news..a busload of tourists traveling the coastal
route had been attacked by Mr. Arafat's PLO. All 30 plus of it's passengers were
killed as the terrorsts blew themselves up, praising Allah no doubt.
When all leaves were canceled, I kinda knew what was coming next.
Growing tiresome of the continuous rocket attacks on it's northern settlements
from within Lebanon, the Israeli government was looking for an excuse to widen
it's "buffer zone" in the southern part of that country.
An area occupied by the Lebanese Christian Militia, it extended from the Mediterranian
Sea to the Syrian border and was supported completely by the Israeli Govt.
Every weapon, tank, uniform, rations and even salaries were subsidized by Israel.
It was in their best interest to do so.
And so, that friday night my unit was mobilized..sent north to await further orders.



Three days.
For three days we sat and waited.
The rain was relentless...so much so, that we knew we were'nt going anywhere just yet.
After all..nothing favored good warfare like fair weather.

Three damn days I sat and waited.
So many thoughts running through my mind...
The first, and in retrospect the least important, was mom.
Mom would be worried.
She expected me home this weekend, and no doubt seeing the news, was gonna think the
worst and freak.
The next..actual warfare.
Would I lose it?
Would I prove to be a coward?
No.
I was sure.
That wasn't me.
And finally..if needed, would I actually remember any of my medical training??
That was the one thought that pulled at me.
I could die for my country and what I believed in, but the thought of one of my
mates dying in my arms because I, the medic, couldn't remember what to do to
help, tormented me.

I was the worst in my class.
I had failed every written exam in the course.
Having Hebrew as my second language made it difficult for me, but that was
irrelevant to my instructors.
I was informed that if I didnt achieve a 90% or higher in the final practical exam..
Triage, I'd fail the course and have to start over.

I finished 2nd in my class with 97%.

The briefing.
At last we were to find out what our mission was.
They made it sound like a walk in the park.
Two weeks max.
We were going in to widen the zone.
Take a couple of hostile villages, let the Militia occupy them and pull out.
No big deal.
They called it "Operation Litani".

The rain had stopped that evening and at 3:00 am the next morning 5,000 of us crossed
the border into Lebanon.


The APV was cold.
Creeper cold.
The kind of moist windy cold you can't defend yourself against.
Gets under all your layers.
I cupped my hands and blew into them as I looked around the interior of the vehicle.
Eight of us.
Half my squad, bunched up along with our gear,plus
the driver and the Mac..vehicle commander, the Sarge who manned the .50 Calibur.
The other half of my squad was in the vehicle behind us.
I unzipped the pockets of my parka and thrust my frigid hands into their depth.
My left hand felt a foreign object.
The Cross!
The one from Bethlehem.
I rubbed my fingers around it and felt a strange warmth.
I smiled.
I had not realized my unease until I felt the calm that now washed over me.

As we rumbled on I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and wondered at what was to come.

darksideclown: He's providing a taxi service for his daughters again so I doubt he will be back tonight.

Mad April Hare: thanks glad to see you here to the clown

A little ~ Just noticed darksideclown. Good to see you back on-line old chap.

ughaibu: The angel looked up at the huge shadow.
'Come, child. Do not be afraid' said the Shadow. 'Spread your wings and take a gentle flight with me. Let me take you away from here.'

Mad April Hare: iT wAs tHa MoNkEy oN hIs bACk...aKa, sAtAn.

ughaibu: The young angel sat crying, a hyperdermic lay broken on the floor.
As she sobbed, shaking and trembling with fear, a shadow appeared at the window.

ughaibu: ?? or is is a new twist to the current storytag? Or new one altogether?

Tears or fears, angels hypodermic.

As she did, she could only freeze in place, feeling a welling up of disbelief and unbelievable fear. She wished to turn and flee but her feet felt as tho they were stuck in quicksand! Where Amelia had sat, there were only cob webs and skeletons, looking her way and mocking her. With her head spinning and heart pounding, she found herself screaming, but no sound was heard.

In terror she realized she was running through a mist so thick she couldn't see her hands in front of her, and her whole body was tangled in cob webs. Twisting and turning to loose herself, she had no idea whether she was fleeing to safety or to harm. She only knew she had to attempt to find a way out of this horror scene!

Confused, yet grateful the woman peered directly into the "hollow" eyes of Amelia, recognizing the unexpected gift she'd just been given...a reprise from a possible impending demise! With a gentle smile, she reached out to touch her "stand in" touching only air...confused and her breath coming in short gasps, she turned to walk away but couldn't without looking back one more time at the seeming apparition that had given her a reprieve.

later 2day

sLaMdAnCe: what time is the next instalment?