Feel Like a Number

"I've come to be depersonalized."

"Good!  You're in the right place.  Please take a number before you sit.  Thank you."

The plastic number dispenser already had a string of three numbers hanging un-torn from its mouth.  He held number fifty-three and firmly tugged number fifty-two free.

Psychic Reader Neon

One day the yellow brick house had a red and blue neon sign glowing in the sun porch window: Psychic Reader.  A triangle with an eye glowed gold in the middle.  The air was blue with dusk making the sign a beacon to all.

Language Barrier

El'alha knew three languages; unfortunately, none were the one those in the courtroom were speaking.  She knew they were discussing her, but could only judge what was happening by their faces and voice quality.  El'a had been arrested two nights ago, but she did not know why.  She only knew she had been arrested because they locked her in a cell with three other females.  Again, the others only spoke one language, and it wasn't one of hers.  She asked in every way possible to speak to her family or a translator, but either she wasn't understood, or she was ignored.

This morning, an angry man in a too-large suit ordered a guard to let her out and they sat in a room with windows and a large table to talk.  She figured out the man was probably a lawyer, but he only spoke one language, too.  El'a drew pictures to make him understand, but either he couldn't find a translator, or he didn't understand.

The Last Antacid

Harlan's thoughts trod the worn path of self-hate and hopelessness without him noticing.  It was a warm burn behind the eyes and a tightness in this stomach that never went away, no matter what over the counter medicine he tried.  He swallowed the chalkiness of antacid and his waist bent, and his arm performed the motion of picking up the wrapper he dropped next to the trashcan.  If he knew it would be his last antacid, Harlan might have tried to let it linger, despite the unpleasant taste.

Inner Thoughts

Time was running out and Clara was panicking.  Her blood was pounding a tick-tock in her ears, counting off the seconds.  The more she heard, the faster they came, building until her hands shook and she had tunnel vision.

Clara could hear her own inner voice floating outside the panic, looking on and commenting on her sad state.  "Maybe sit down and relax for a minute?  Why do you do this to yourself?  Look at yourself.  This certainly isn't helping."

"Nothing is helping!" Clara sobbed, her whole face running.

"A tissue, Clara.  For god's sake, get yourself a tissue before your snot adds to the scene you're making."  Clara stumbled to the bathroom, hand cupped under her chin.  "Look at yourself.  Wow.  Your head is going to be stuffed all night."

"I don't care, I don't careIdon'tcareIdon'tcare..."

"Clearly."

Off the Grid

In all her years--growing up in an upper middle class house in a quiet suburb, graduating high school with honors, going to college, getting a Master's degree, working various well-paying jobs--Natalie never thought she'd find herself dumpster diving for food.

It wasn't a lark, as some college-aged kids tried to live "off the grid".  Natalie was actually leaning over the metal rim of an actual freaking dumpster actually touching actual garbage.  She tried to work fast because being caught would be too embarrassing, and she managed a partial loaf of bread, wrapped safely in the original plastic bag, three apples, and a take-out container with half a sandwich and a handful of fries.  Nat started to cry as she slipped the treasurers into the pressed-fabric reusable grocery bag for what she told herself were her "shopping trips".

Perpetual Motion

Jack was seven when he became friends with Willem, who hadn't seen seven in sixty years.  Jack and his mother had just moved into the apartment above Willem one week and one day before the strange noises coming through the floor in his bedroom caused him to investigate.

Stone Magic

Helena heard her nursemaid calling and mentally acknowledged it as a reminder to hurry.  She had chosen her father's rooms for the spell and felt exposed in front of the cold fireplace.  Helena had already spilled about half the liquid from the stone bowl, but it would be enough, and the stone on stone scrape of the bottom as she slid it into position on the hearthstone seemed very loud.  Again, mentally acknowledged.  Hurry.

The Wavelength

It was an amateur scientist in Brixton, just outside London, who stumbled upon The Wavelength.  He thought he was constructing a small version of a radio telescope, but he missed the mark and was listening to a different kind of radiation, uncatalogued, uncategorized, and unused by humans.  It was, however, still used.

Ian Davies just returned to his workroom in the third floor flat he rented from his mother, and, concentrating on not spilling his tea, he jostled the settings on his homemade electronic listening device.  This adjustment, coupled with the vagarities in the instrument's construction, picked up The Wavelength.  The incoming cacophony caused his headphones to rattle, which he luckily hadn't put on again yet.  Scrambling, Ian turned down the volume and clapped the headphones over his ears and became the first human to knowingly listen to an alien broadcast.

Hott Stuff

Her legs went all the way up to her hips where they stopped abruptly.  They also went down to her feet, which stuck out nearly as long a distance from her ankles as her knees.  Her hair was a long, luxurious sable, kept neatly in a box under the stove.  It smelled like warm hair when she baked.  Her entire apartment was a work of art, mostly collage.  She intimidated men, which was an unusual hobby, but she was good at it and didn't want to get out of practice.

Tending Garden

Evie preferred the hands-and-knees method of garden tending rather than letting the automatic systems take over.  The robotic systems never managed to get out all the weeds and always managed to take out some of the veggies.

The dirt smelled rich and natural, and when Evie closed her eyes, she thought of the worms in their tunnel homes, full, fat, and happy, warm and safe in the dark.  She looked around, but no other gardeners had been assigned near her area, so she stretched herself out flat between the rows of spinach plants and laid down right on the path, her nose to the dark brown earth.  Evie felt a nauseating fluttering in her stomach and her hands went flat, as if grabbing the path might hold her safe.  It was nearly always in the garden where she could forget they were on a star ship, until, of course, a change of direction or power fluctuation brought her back to the limits of the world.

Restless

Restless,
Wherever you are,
It's somewhere else you want to be
Nothing now is good enough
Wanting what's out of reach
Restless in your body
Restless in your mind
Restless in your soul
Flitting from one idea to the next
Never deeper than getting started
Find your place, restless body
Quiet your thoughts, restless mind
Discover your direction, restless soul