A Drabble…

The paragraphs below depict a micro-story I wrote for a blog I found recently.  Interestingly enough, it is always fun to include classic literary devices within a ‘word-filtered’ sentence combination.  I enjoyed editing the story; the original was over 300 words, over 200 words of their submission requirement.  My final submission was 98 words.  Due to the differences of the two drafts, I included both of them, here.  By request I will remove the actual submission.
Sam and Sam
Both car doors closed close to the same time.  A teenage school girl named Samantha and her male friend named Sam both exited their parents’ vehicles in front of the local bookstore known for its darkstout coffee.  “How goes it?” she asked.  “Great,” he said.  They went in to order a coffee.  They both liked cold house coffee; it was cheaper than the more extravagant lattes.  “I will take a house coffee on ice,” said Sam, attempting to hand the cashier with crimson red-blonde hair a five. She then heard Sam say, “I will have the same, however I will pay for both.”  She said thank you and Sam handed the cashier a ten.
After receiving their coffees they explored the store.  There were a great many exciting books and periodicals.  They both loved to read and did well in school.  After noticing how much the bestsellers cost, they visited the music section.  Sam and Sam liked most music, however they loved rock and dance the most.  “Check it out!” said Sam, and Samantha ran over to him.  It was a newly released greatest hits live recording by “nin”.
“Let’s put our money together and we can listen to it later,” said Samantha, too excited to wonder about teenage puppy love.  “Okay,” said Sam – their parents would be back anytime.  Their hour was nearing its death.  They made it to the checkout line and it seemed to be keeping the pace of a sprinting post-storm snail.
Samantha gave Sam her five and it was their turn.  There existed a man behind them deep in thought, holding a book titled, “On Living Well”.  The new C.D. was listed for $11.89; the teller said, “Your total is twelve ninety-six.”  “We are short seventy-six cents,” said Sam on accident.  Samantha was confused; the man behind them said, “Keep your money.  I will buy that disc for you.”  “Wow,” said Sam, “What is your name?”  “Atticus.”
Sam and Sam, by J. C. Martin, III
They exited their parents’ vehicles in front of a bookstore known for darkstout coffee.  “Howdy,” she said.  “Hi,” went inside.
Cold house coffee,” requested Samantha, tried paying.  Sam said, “I will have the same,” paid for both.  “Thank you.
They explored.  “Check it out!” exclaimed Sam, seeing a new release by “nin“.  “Let’s listen to it later.”  “Okay.
Their hour dwindled.  Checkout kept the pace of a sprinting poststorm snail.  Samantha gave Sam her five.
A man held a book, “On Well Living”.  “$12.96.”  “We’re short.”  “I’ll buy it.”  “Okay.”  “What is your name?”  “Atticus.

A Snap-shot, a Presentation…

tones with c

The above image makes me happy – it means that I will, eventually have a song available for you.  I may also be able to present an even better song, eventually, that may sound similar.  This is a forty minute song that will be available for order by mail as a C.D.  It was originally an experimental practice session, however I listened to it for about a year and enjoyed it, decided to share it, somehow.  “tones with c” has no lyrics; one can sleep or dance to it.

The second half is the first half reversed, sounds fun, especially on repeat.  I am happy that it will be possible to share; the title and upc numbers will be the same when it is available within ten days.  It is an electronic piano recording with basic ‘synth’ beats as ‘metronomic’ rhythm.  Though not as exciting as many nin albums or other professional music discs; I hope you check it out.  Happy blogging!

Intellibots, Story One

Intellibots, Story One

One night a dreaming chemistry student gazed upon the stars. His name was Sean; he was up late. He had a lot on his mind. He had an avid and working knowledge of computers, the periodic table, and biology. What set Sean apart from many other students of science was his understanding of biology and metallurgy. Stemming from ideas of nickel-plating, he could prove with written theory how to turn biological matter into metals and gels and other forms of living and non-living material.

He could change common animals into living hardware. Existing as a humane being, though, how could he use his theories to the benefit of other beings’ understanding? He wanted the money for it, and he did not want to feel any ethical guilt. “I will design a pharmaceutical artificial intelligence robot pill,” he thought, “Like many other theoretical ideas, this pill will chemically change animals into an monitorable animal-bot.” He thought on the topic for some time, and Sean considered the various dictionaries he could use in computing from his side-studies of artificial intelligence.

“How else could I monitor brain-wave function and communicate with other forms of life?” he wondered. He went inside and found a mechanical pencil and a sketchpad. He quickly wrote down a design for a pill, including the chemical reactions to back up specific “proci”, a term he used for the plural form of the word process. “I wonder what might be a good choice for a first animal,” he thought, “A cat!” he said aloud on accident.

A cat it was. He had a female neighbor named Ann. Ann was an art design major with an expensive kitten she called Floofa. She said Floofa was a “Siamese snow cat.” “Floofa will be a great prototype for my first robotic artificial intelligence communications and behavioral learning pill,” thought Sean.
He continued exhaustively with his rough writings related to biological chemistry, metallurgy, and anatomical sketches of a young kitten for at least three quarters of an hour. Sean went and finished the rest of his real schoolwork, as he was pursuing a bachelor’s degree in chemistry and considering pre-med, before he turned in. The next morning Sean woke early and attended his classes. He took notes and turned in his assigned work; he thought of Floofa. That afternoon he went to the chemistry lab with his sketches – they were the design for his first pill. “I will call these animals Intellibots,” thought Sean, and he worked into the night.

By 9 PM that day, he had designed the perfect pill for Floofa. The epicenter of the pill contained a tiny bio-metallic sphere. The stomach acids of any feline would react with the pill to start its primary and secondary reactions. All secondary reactions would deal with RNA, connectivity, and longevity for the eventual adult cat. Primary reactions would cause the cat to have reduced cylindrical areas in its main functioning bones in order for the development of titanium wires. These wires, unseen, would resemble alien technology. The wires would connect to various other smaller wires of new metals for communication purposes, as well as “physical action technique” reasons.

The pill would develop inside of the kitten into a sort of radio with communication and artificial intelligence. These things could happen due to a small and newly formed chip in the top of the cat’s skull. The kitten would not be harmed or feel pain in any way. Sean would see the thought process of the kitten. Floofa could have conversations with the chip for decision-making processes and learning.
The kitten could more quickly make decisions such as playing with small birds and deciding on behaviors around humans. The program in the chip had over a gig of memory. It would learn what the kitten taught it, helping the cat remember things. Sean would be able to study more than one “Intellibot”- he could monitor their brainwave activity on an external system, elsewhere. He would only have to design more pills specific to other animals.

He finished making the pill, brought it home. “What will I tell Ann?” he wondered. I guess I will just tell her the truth. He went to see Ann with his pill. At first, she called him a mad scientist. She told him he could never use her precious kitty as a “toy pig”! He tried to explain that the pill was not only a kind of experiment for the world of psychology – Ann would always know where her kitten was. She would never lose her precious Floofa – for only ten dollars. Ann thought about it and asked if there was any chance of the pill harming her kitten. Sean said, “No, it is as safe as a small bowl of milk.” He was sure of it, though he spoke of an ‘extremely minimal’ chance of unknown biological reaction.

Ann gave Sean a ten-dollar bill, and he gave her a back-up disk and showed her the pill. Floofa would not consume the pill by choice; Sean administered the medication in gentle privacy. The kitten was fine. Ann ran the computer program. Sean and Ann watched her computer screen, as the program he made earlier that day displayed the reaction. The pill expanded slowly, placing the titanium in the bones of the kitten and properly forming the chip painlessly between Floofa’s skull and the upper part of the kitten’s brain.
Once done, the two students watched the kitten play around with a toy mouse full of catnip. The dancing ball of health held an in-depth conversation with its new artificial intelligence chip, reporting the conversation on the screen and writing it to file. Ann and Sean were both impressed that her kitten could learn to spell so quickly. Ann and Sean enjoyed playing with Floofa that evening. The three lived happily ever after.

Those Little Eyes

I enjoyed this post; I hope you will, too.

Loud Thoughts Voiced Out

In a world where everyone’s asking you what you’ve achieved, what you’ve done with your life, it feels so easy to lose track of what’s important. When everything around you costs money. When you wake up one day and realize your bills are sky high and your bank account’s buried under the ground, it’s normal to feel the need to lock yourself up at work. When your partner’s fighting with you, when that silly little thing they do becomes the last thing you need that day and you end up screaming your head off and storming out, it’s almost impossible to want to go back home.

But I want you to. I want you to walk around the streets, take as many deep breaths as you need and go back inside that home. Because you know what your struggles are. You know why you’re angry, why you’re upset. But there’s…

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An Adventure of Anh

An Adventure of Anh

One time there was a female named Anabeth Garza.  She was nearing thirty-five; she was pondering her life, considering death.  She walked late in the night to a closed fairground.  So dark was the night, so quit in its loneliness, the moon lit her way, albeit.

As she found her way to the monkey-sized puppet in a box, she noticed a small orange bulb in the lower back of the “vending mechanism” to still be on.  “Anh” inspected the back of the large box, noticed it was not plugged in.  “The machine must have stored energy from a busy night,” Anh thought to herself, “That or it is magical.”

She reached into her pockets thinking she just may, by some crazed off-chance, have a coin.  She did not.  She looked below the machine and found one.  She deposited the coin in the machine and the small monkey spun around in a glowing light.  The monkey was well-dressed, as if ready for dancing on a stage.  It looked directly to Anh and said, “No one is looking.  What is your tentative wish?”

“‘Tentative’,” Anh thought to herself.  This was sure to be some form of hard-to-appreciate fun adventure.  “I want to be 12,” was the only thing she could think to say.  She said it before the monkey’s glow disseminated, and warped immediately to small school in Southern Mexico.

“This is a run-down heap,” she thought to herself, as she was surrounded by Mexican students in a classroom with a chalkboard and a clock on the wall.  “They have  a clock,” she noticed.  “Es ocho,” said the teacher, starting class at 8.  Anh only spoke English, though she may have known a few words from the Spanish language.

The day was sure to be an adventure.  Anh noticed that the other students mostly kept to themselves or distracted each other; she could stay mostly quite and say only  a few words like “Si” and “No.”  Lunch came and they all ate beans and rice with milk.  Anh was surprised that the small meal hit the spot.  Recess came.

During recess, Anh played on the swings with another young girl she sat next to and was close to from class.  They were swinging and not saying much.  Anh noticed, across the playground, a larger, heavy-set boy was taunting a boy and a girl.  Anh instinctively went over to see why.  The boy did not have much of a reason, appeared to Anh to be being mean for no real cause.

Anh tapped the boy on the shoulders and he turned to her as if he knew all about it.  “Leave them be or I will beat the breaks off of you,” said Anh.  The larger boy pushed Anh and she fell to the ground.  Her friend begun to run from the swings to where Anh was to try to stop her.  “Anh!” she cried, “Do not do it!”  Anh stood without brushing off her nice outfit, leaped into the blow she delivered to the bully, landing the blow with the lower part of her palm.  She made contact to his brow directly between his eyes, hearing his skull crack.

Anh landed on her feet, ready to see what the big boy was going to do, as he fell to the ground crying with blackened eyes.  Anh’s friend caught up with her and Anh apologized by saying, “Lo-ciento.”  Her “amiga” was disappointed, though somehow understood.  Their instructor found them and Anh endured meeting the principle of the small Mexican school.  He was bilingual, said that she should have informed the instructor and to conduct her actions differently next time.

Anh agreed, hoping the bully learned his lesson.  She warped back to the puppet in time to see light condense from its immense brightness to a small glowing orange bulb.  The monkey looked as though it went to sleep.  “Wow,” thought Anh, and she carried on.