Footprints in the Sand

Professor Graunt of the Healding Institute was the first to spot the rift.

“It’s clearly obvious, the more you look at it!” He said, in his usual over-excited way. “Just look at this remarkable photograph; the unmistakable footprints walking right to left, left foot first. The first two steps, clearly shodden, are those of an older person. The next two are barefoot, and most definitely younger. Look closely and notice the line in the sand that divides the two pairs of footprints.

“The ripples from the tide are clearly visible all over the sand’s surface, but not at the band that intersects vertically across the centre. That band is the rift between time and space. That band is proof, PROOF I tell you, that time travel is not only possible, it exists and is readily available for anybody wishing to step back in time… but in age though, not history.”

This post is in response to a writing challenge by Frank (from A Frank Angle). The badge above will take you to Frank’s site, where other contributors are also linking. The challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. I used each and every one of them… a slight variation on embracing the Inner Child, perhaps?

On a side note, this post is my two thousand two hundred and twenty second post here on WordPress. 2222! Yet another milestone reached! 

Expanding Order

Once we have the nuns we can decide

The Plutonian Council shifted and shuffled nervously. It was the first time the council had met with the High Reverence herself, Amnarnun of Makemake, and her Sisters of the Dissolved Order.

The Order, clouded in mystery, as much if not more so than as anything else on the small crimson world, had decided decades ago to branch out more, and create greater ties with the other communities of the thousands of worlds that exist within the ‘Barrierlands’  (or Kuiper belt as it is known on Earth) and eventually try to reach out to the residents of Earth.

Pluto’s great Council had met delegates before from Makemake, but none as high profile and awesomely revered as the Frocked One.

She stood at the central lectern, hands gently clasped in front and head slightly bowed. plutoCen Kr’Dorir, dwarfed beside her, wasn’t sure if she was looking toward him, down upon him, or in prayer.

“Nun Child” she said, with all the grace one would imagine one with her stature to have.

“Ah, my humblest of apologies, Oh heavenly mistress…” grovelled plutoCen Kr’Dorir, “I’d forgotten about your ability of telepatheticness.”

The Plutonian Council coughed nervously, one member at the back audibly groaning.

“Eh?” The Frocked One looked momentarily confused, then blended effortlessly back into her calm demeanour. “No, plutoCen, I was asking for Nun Child to approach. Here she is now.”

Nun Child, Amnarnun’s niece, was in every way as serene as her aunt. She wore the Makemakean blue frock of life, which contrasted to Amnarnun’s black frock for everything. They both gently rustled as they moved, but apart from this gentle sound they moved otherwise silently and with ease, almost as if they were gliding across the floor.

plutoCen Kr’Dorir shook Nun Child’s hand, and said, as pleasantly as he could manage “A pleasure to meet you, as well as your mother.”

The Council breathed in audibly, with some physically cringing. plutoCen Kr’Dorir noticed and quickly attempted to correct his latest gaffe “and our mother, and everyone’s mother of the Barrierlands, the High Reverence herself.” He thought he’d pulled it off, and realised he still had a hold of Nun Child’s hand. Firmly. With a smile, he swiftly let go, and let out an extremely loud ‘harrrumph’ as he pretended to clear his throat. Nun Child looked at him with crystal clear blue eyes, and gently spoke.

“We today bring you gifts, friends and allies of Pluto. Gifts made from the imagined tears from the blessed angels; the ethereal strings from the harmonic harps; and the dreams and hopes of our people that we would like to share with you.

“We also come with an invitation for you to join our Serene Order, dissolved as it is, yet expanding into the vast Solar System.

“We bring a calming influence to fill your void of chaos and hypertension, and hope you will accept our heartfelt offer.”

“One moment please, your ladyness…” plutoCen Kr’Dorir marched over to the plutoCen Deputy panel, where the three High Leaders sat in whispered conference.

The Council looked on uneasily.

Amnarnun and Nun Child looked towards each other, waiting patiently for the reply.

They didn’t need to wait too long. plutoCen Kr’Dorir returned to the lectern, and said “It’s like this, your references. We aren’t really a serene race. We’re more of a rough sort, not quite barbaric but not very politically correct. Rough around the edges if you like. We don’t have many ‘orders’ or anything like that here on Pluto, but we are always open to change. All we can say now is once we have the nuns we can decide whether to join your order. We’ll be in touch. Keep your pathetic lines open. Telepathetic lines. Keep them open. And we’ll let you know.”

Amnarnun and Nun Child both graciously accepted plutoCen Kr’Dorir’s hand once more, graciously bowed, and graciously made their effortless way out of the Council Chamber.

Amnarnun gently tapped Nun Child’s arm as they reached the door. Sometimes you can not reason with barbarians, she thought. But we’ve planted the seed.

Agreed, Aunt. Nun Child replied.

A slight smile crept across both of their faces as the cold iron doors slammed shut behind them.

This post has been written in response to a flash fiction challenge by Diane Henders.

Some of the characters in this otherworldly tale first appeared in this post.

Spring Time

The bike was whole again.

Alex had spent all day taking it apart, tinkering, cleaning, polishing, and buffing, and eventually put it back together. He was meticulous with every single detail.

Apart from, that is, one spring he’d left out.

He was baffled.

How had he missed it, and where was it from?

Regardless, he started the process of taking the bike apart once more, hoping he would soon find the spring a home.

Another attempt at flash fiction for Red’s Flash in the Pan. The word for this tale is ‘Left’; and the word limit is 75. I’ve left one word out, and used 74 this time.

Selected Resources

“Come with me!” ordered the supervisor.

James, unsure of what he had done, stood and followed obediently.

Unspeaking, the supervisor led James through a maze of gradually darkening corridors, eventually stopping at a set of double doors.

‘Human Resources’ advised the brass plaque.

The supervisor rapped on the door, and a muffled “Enter!” was heard from within.

The door opened, and James was ushered in.

The supervisor closed the door again just after James entered, and slowly walked away from the room, feeling very pleased with himself. He was always very well rewarded when he delivered the meals on time.

It just goes to show that we can never be certain that what we think we’re doing, is what we’re actually doing. Most times we are… but every time?

This time I know what I’ve done.

I’ve written another post for Red’s Flash in the Pan; that’s what. Another hundred  worder for a hundred word challenge; the word this time being… yes; ‘Come’! And yes, I’ve written a hundred words as well.

Red’s challenge is open to anyone who’d like to participate. Have a go if you want to. Visit Red’s site for more details.

Right On!

Aaron smiled as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark hair, blue eyes, a slight covering of stubble around his mouth, chin and jaw line, a nice pale green shirt open at the neck with a thin silver necklace partly visible, and black jeans and boots that finished his look perfectly.

He was almost ready for his night out. Almost. He reached up to the shelf above the mirror, and selected the can on the right of the two that were there, without paying attention. He looked good, he thought, just as he covered himself in shaving foam.

No, this isn’t an advert for a new shaving product in my Twilight range… it’s actually another one-hundred word tale for Red’s Flash in the Pan. The limit is one hundred words, of which all have been used in this case… and the word this time is ‘Right’.

As always, visit Red’s site for more details if you would like to participate in this flash fiction writing challenge. It is fun!