Stumbling down that hill

I don’t bother with curtains any more.  The watching cameras that fly around the city keeping us all safe from the bad people, can see through them anyway.  In fact as a friend of mine down the pub said, “If you have nothing to hide, why would you worry?”

I don’t worry.

The gentle whirr of the rotor blades outside my window is like a nice relaxing tune.  I do not even look up any more, I know that they are watching me.

Watching out for me.

The cameras were introduced for our safety.  We have never been under a greater threat than from the enemy and I for one, feel completely safe and secure.  As a country, we have never been safer.

There was an explosion last night.

I carefully separate out all my rubbish into the proper bags and then open my front door.  It does not lock as I have no secrets.  The Leader made this quite clear on his last broadcast to us all.  Why remove yourself from the community? he said.  Why not invite the community to keep each other safe?  I agree and removed my lock the very next day.  If it was not for the draughty building I live in, I would not even bother with a door.  Why would I?  I have nothing to hide.

The stairs down to the street level are well lit with the latest in energy saving bulbs.  The government put them in last year and the light they produce is more than enough for us to just about see our way down the steps.  As long as we take it slowly anyway.  Then again, why would I be running?  If I was doing that, then surely I would be up to something suspicious.  The newspapers tell us that we should report any suspicious behaviour to the police force.  That is what good citizens do.  All the time I know that a camera is keeping an eye on me just in case I fall.

Outside the street lighting sponsor is in the middle of being changed and as such, the street is in pitch darkness.  However how can we expect low prices if there is no competition?  So we accept that for a few days a week, the lights will not be on as they are repainted in the correct livery.  No matter, I know where the bins are and I make my way towards them.

The street is busy as people make their way to and from their work.  Our Government has managed to make sure that everyone is working now.  It builds character to have a job and to work hard.  By keeping wages low and eliminating benefits, our Government has given each and every one of us the incentive to work harder.  To take on more hours and more jobs.  Family life is no longer the choice of the working person.  They just used to drain us of energy that we should have been spending on working.  I am so glad that those days are behind us.

As I put my rubbish in the correct bins depending on what it is (watched over by the camera that will alert me if I make a mistake) I hear a voice coming from the nearby corner.  Without even turning my head, I raise my free arm up and point in the general direction of it.  My camera flashes red and then is joined by another.  It lights up the whole area in a brilliant white light and I can hear the voice begging for mercy.  Two sharp shots from a nearby police guard and the voice is silent.  Good job too as the homeless are just as dangerous as the enemy is.  If they wanted to contribute, they would work and live where they were allocated.  To choose not to is to choose against our country and I cannot understand why anyone would do that.

The police guard nods to me as I make my way back to my home.  My own camera keeps pace with me and the second one stays, keeping the enemies body in full view while the pictures are taken.  I do not know how many of these must be broadcast to stop people choosing that way of life.  Some people are strange and I stay away from them.

Soon I am back in my own home.  The television will soon switch itself off as it will be time for me to sleep.  I must work soon and they know what is the best time for me to rest.

As I close my eyes, the whirr of the rotors shifts to my left somewhat and I know that they are watching.  Keeping me safe.

As I drift into unconsciousness, I feel glad that I cannot even feel the knife that is under my pillow.

Nanowrimo 2015 the update

So its the weekend and the perfect opportunity to get a heap of story told and get back on track with the word count.
Sadly I’m shattered as I was yesterday so no writing this weekend.
However I am content that I may not finish nano this year. It’s not stopping me writing but kids n work do take priority these days.
Should be back with more tomorrow but until then , let me leave you with this

image

NaNoWriMo 2015 – Part 4 of 30

My word count is way behind the curve, I have limited time to write this week and yet, even with all of this, I am still excited to sit at the keyboard and type some random words.  Those of you who have been following each day so far will be used to each blog not really following on from the last.  Well grab your hats and get ready…this is going to get weird.

“Quick Sheriff, they are rounding up the dancers”

It was going to be one of those days.

Many years ago I arrived in this reality to work for the Artists Two.  Protecting the planet from outside and inside threats.  However a week after he had arrived, his paperwork had not.  It was always on his to do list to chase this up but other things kept getting in the way.  There was no communication from the Nexus and after a month and a half, he decided that they must have forgotten about him.  So with no income and seemingly no way to get home again, the man who would be Sheriff, went on a long walk.  This took him all over the strange little planet.  He had seen such sights and many wonders.  If he had been able to be bothered, he could have written several travel books.

He wasn’t so he hadn’t.  What he did do though, was walk into the wrong office at the wrong time in a quaint little town called Funkie.  It may have been his tiredness at being on the move for so long.  It may have been the weather beating he had taken by the strange climate.  It may even have been fate, he was not entirely sure.  What did happen though was that he found himself the sheriff of this town, bound to keep the peace and uphold the law.  Taking to his new role reluctantly initially, he soon found that he had a talent for this line of work.  He had respect amongst the general population and the uniform proved a big hit with the ladies.  Steady income and a warm, dry place to stay.  There was a lot to like.

So he stayed on and made Funkie his new home.  He even looked into the towns short history.  It had started as a small haggis mining town that had grown rapidly in size due to the forward thinking of a one Mr Patrick Funkie.  This man had seen the squalid conditions that the haggis miners and their families had to live in and decided that if they were paying rent to stay in slum like conditions, they would pay even more money in rent to live in homes that were dry and sturdy.  They may not have been much better overall but that slight rise in quality seemed to be enough and pretty soon Mr Funkie was a very rich man.  Whether he had a revelation from the gods or just that he got older, he decided to build some facilities (at surprisingly little cost to the towns folk) and that cemented his place in history.  There was a public vote and the town that formerly had been known as Malis town, was renamed in his honour.  But the haggis mine had run dry long before our sheriff had arrived there and what was left was sadly similar to many small towns around the multiple universes.  There was little work for the inhabitants and so many of them spent their days drinking and getting into trouble.  This was why they needed a Sheriff.

Now sheriffs came and sheriffs went.  Some were good people.  They set the town to rights and kept order but they never stayed long.  The Federation of International Sheriff Treatment always made sure that their best performing law keepers, were moved onto better towns and cities.  The more positive exposure that the Federation could reflect onto themselves from their members, the better the funding streams became.

Then there were the bad Sheriffs who arrived, did little work and looked for an easy life.  There was a lot of ground to cover in the town and they had to do this with limited resources.  Normally these bad Sheriffs would be killed by one of the many criminal gangs that roamed the town after dark.  Incidents like these were kept hushed up by the Federation and a new applicant was recruited as quickly as possible.

Luckily for the town of Funkie, they got lucky with their most recent applicant.

They got the hero of our story and he was just the right man to bring the law to the lawless.

“Uh Sheriff, did you hear me”

The Sheriff looked at his deputy and swung his heavy leather boots down from where they had been resting in the desk.

“Yes Bob, I heard you.”  He stood up and fastened his holster around his waist. “Lets go sort this mess out”

NaNoWriMo 2015 – Part 3

In the distance, beyond the departing star cruiser, the red tidal wave of energy rolled ever onwards.

Her job was almost complete.  A few switches to pull and a button to press and she could leave this earth.  Despite being told during the nexus training regime to not get close to any reality, she had decided to call this earth, Home.  For the last twenty three years and five months, she had done her duty in preserving the planet as best she could.  There had been little in the way of incidents during that time.  An invasion of Dinosaurs that sounded like they were from the south west country and the plague of watches aside, it had been a quiet posting.  It was a shame to have to say goodbye to it now but orders were orders.  Plus her nexus agent training had given her a set of techniques to help her cope with, what back then had been a hypothetical situation.  Now it was really happening.  The destruction wave was a real thing and as it was currently making its way across the multiple earths and realities that lay within the orrerry, it was now her time to say goodbye to earth home.

She had heard horror stories over the nexus communication network, about worlds and realities that refused to believe they were in danger from something that they could not see.  By the time the threat had become visible, it was too late to save the majority of the world populations.  Luckily she must have lived on a more open minded world as the various countries governments had united quickly and arranged an evacuation plan within a year.  Less than 3 months afterwards, the first ships were leaving for a myriad of destinations.  The occupants of the interplanetary craft, heading for a new life somewhere out there.

Checking the instruments in her command centre for a final time, she saw an anomoly.  typical, she thought, it was going far too smoothly.  I should have been ready for something like this.  The Nexus had its enemies out there in the orrerry and they would like nothing more than to interfere with any plans that had been laid down to save as many people as possible.  Grabbing her jacket from the back of her metal chair, she checked the co-ordinates, programmed her jump technology and turned to the right.

The figure that stood at the sea front was humming something to himself as she approached.  Seemingly lost in his own thoughts, he did not flinch as she approached.

“Excuse me,” she asked him politely but firmly, “You know that you should not be here right now?”

The man turned to her and registered her presence for the first time.  A smile crept across his face as he removed a pair of ear pieces that blared the same tune that he had been humming.

“Hello,” he said, rather jauntily she felt, “Sorry I just thought I would have a few moments to myself here before….well…the end.”

He stood slightly smaller than her and she accepted and returned the handshake that was offered.

“Well I have no record of anyone staying behind and since you were not here five minutes ago, my guess is that you are some sort of reality wave rider.  I have a duty to inform you that this earth is in the process of being removed from existence by a force, or forces unknown”. Her tone had become more business like to help underline her point.  “The entire population of this earth has been evacuated to a new homeworld for their safety.”

He turned to look out over the cold, angry north Sea.

“I know,” she could see his eyes twinkling almost as if in delight, “It is nice and quiet now.”  He turned back to her, still smiling.  “Is it not beautiful?” His hand gestured around the two of them, “All this silence.  No machines hum tainting the background.  No crowds of people walking about, their eyes glued to their mobile phones, ignoring each other?  It is a paradise.”

They stood in silence for what felt like a minute or two, but in reality could not have been more than a few seconds.

“It is such a shame that this will all be gone soon.”

She had found herself nodding.  Despite knowing that it was coming, her duty had kept her busy enough to not think about what was actually happening.  her world, her home would soon not exist.   There, just beyond her perception, a fear lurked that she may not even remember that she had lived her for so long.  Would that mean that every single part of her life that had happened, Friendships, her loves, cities she had visited, even her favourite bands would just disappear?

Her chest hurt.

“How long do we have left my dear?”

She automatically glanced at the chronal device attached to her jacket.

“I have to leave in about thirty minutes, so maybe,” she paused as she worked it out, “Three quarters of an hour at most.”

The man nodded and looked back out towards the advancing red tidal wave.

“Well I suppose we have time then.”  He reached out his hand and took hers without waiting.  “Let us have this last dance together.”  It was not a question.

The music got louder, no longer filtered by the mans ear pieces.  It seemed to wrap itself around them both as he held her tightly to him and they danced across the sand, slowly and completely out of time with the tune.  The sky got darker as they moved together and she found herself closing her eyes.  A strange sense of calm flowed through her and if she had been looking for memories of her past life, she would have seen them fade away like smoke in the night air.

NaNoWriMo 2015 – Part the 2nd

So yesterday i got off to a start.  Suprisingly I had a few notes on the post, which was nice.  All to often when you blog, it can feel like you are shouting into an abyss.  That is both a good and a bad thing.  However (as new visitors to my writing will soon find out) my writing style is very haphazard and if you are following this writing journey, you may find that what you read one day, may have no connection to what you read yesterday.  That is just how I work.  I have tried planning a novel out and just got caught up in a muddle.  So I just write.  There is a basic plan in my mind but often, I just sit and write.  Somehow it all works out by the end of the novel.  I have no idea how but it does.

Anyway here we go with todays entry.  I have two children in the same room as me and they are arguing about Prince of Persia…so who knows what is going to get written today!

The room was full of ultraviolet fish.  That seemed to be the Artists Two decoration of choice at the moment.  They changed their mind quite often though, so the agents had agreed that the best way was to always expect the unexpected.  The Laird walked between the shoals of fish, almost as if they were not there.  His fellow agent decided to stay outside the room.  The way the fish managed to glide through mid air as if it was water just made her feel uneasy.  She decided that The Laird could explain whatever they had found, far better than she could.  Indeed she was not entirely sure what they had discovered.  People in the reflections of a trains window, that was something she did not entirely believe that she had actually seen.

The Artists Two stood at right angles to each other, facing away from the door.  It was obvious that they were in the middle of an installation.  At times like this, it was better to just carry on as if things were normal.  They had evolved so far beyond the comprehension of humanity that they were capable of multi tasking at a omni dimensional level.  The Laird could still hear the constant chattering of the smaller Artists teeth.  In a way, he was glad that he was not facing him face on.  A mere glance of his visage always seemed to awaken something primal deep inside him.  A fear that manifested itself out of nowhere, as if a past life was remembering that which crawled through the dark.

“You have a report for us?” Artist one was talking now, his deep accent seemed to hint at him being from the North of England.  Sometimes it was struggle to make out what he was saying but if one took enough time and patience and really, really listened, you would get the gist of the conversation.

“Yes I do,” The Laird pulled a chair from the pile that stood against the wall.  Waited for a brief moment for the fish to swim away from the seat and sat down.  Removing his top hat, he placed it onto the floor and watched as a curious fish swam into it.  Resisting temptation to poke it with his silver topped cane, the Laird merely sighed and continued.

“The rumours were correct.  They are in the trains.”

“I see”

“My only suggestion is that they are somehow related to the people who are sitting on the trains.  Almost as if they are trapped in that thin pane of glass. Forever condemned to look at what they no longer have access to.”

“I see”, Artist Twos voice was slightly clearer in pitch to Artist One.  Slightly sped up almost, as if someone had started to play a forty five single at seventy eight by mistake.  The flames that danced around Artists Twos head, changec colour as he spoke.  In the past, the Laird had assumed that it was a visual representation of Artist twos mood but past experience had shown him that it was far more random than that.

A china cup full of steaming hot coffee appeared to the Lairds right, on a table that had not been there a minute ago.  Omni Dimensional work was like that, objects flickering in and out of visibility was commonplace.  It was no longer the shock that it had been back when he had first been recruited.  It was a small mercy that the rising steam, seemed to dissuade the ultraviolet fish from diving into the coffee.

Sipping the warming liquid, he listened to the Artists Two speak to each other.  It sometimes could be heard as a normal conversation with both sides participating equally.  Other times it was a mixture of that and then them finishing each others sentences.  On a rare occasion it was just a low pitched hum but it had been many months since he had witnessed that. On this occasion, it was rythmic beat poetry.  So he drank his coffee and watched as the two brown suited men had their discussion and planning session.  They would work out what had to be done, how that was to be carried out and who was the agents that were best placed to do this with the highest guarantee of success.

The conversation stopped and the Artists Two had changed position again.  Artist One was kneeling on something that could not be seen in this reality, half his left leg was invisible and he was reaching forward with his right hand, the tips of his fingers glowing a neon blue.  All the while, Artist two was climbing what looked like a ladder made of cutlery knives. Up and up he went, yet he never moved from the spot he was in.  Politely the Laird finished his coffee and placed the china cup down on a different table than the one he had picked it up from, cleared his throat and awaited his instructions.

Then without any warning, the lights went out.  Sirens started to sound from the depths of the Nexus.  The Artists Two shimmered in front of the Lairds eyes as they returned from whenever and where ever they had been.  Standing in front of him, the Artists Two stood, hands clasped behind their backs, looking straight ahead.

“It has begun”.

NaNoWriMo 2015 – as it happens

Due to family commitments, I did not get any writing done yesterday.  So my idea (for now anyway) is to write as a blog for the month.  So what follows is the start of this years novel.  It will appear for a couple of days before being locked away somewhere.  What follows will make no sense at times and wont always be the required word count for the day.  I may also add bits in out with here, depending on where I am at the time and what is available to me.

Yet it will be a story and while you may need to read it all to have the bits fall into place, it will be worth it…I hope!

I love the world

“I wish you would not wear the local clothes.  You look like a walking advert”

The woman, in her branded hooded top and tracksuit leggings sighed.  He always complained about her choice of attire.  Being a time travelling temporal agent for the mysterious artists two, was a responsibility that she did not take lightly.  When she travelled to the various time zones and realities, she did her best to fit in and not attract suspicion.

He didn’t.

He did not even try.

As far as the Laird was concerned, the time they spent in the field was so trivial that the last thing the people that lived there cared about, was whether someone looked odd.  So he wore his black top hat with his long frock coat and carried his silver topped cane as though it was the usual way you dressed for any situation.  There had been some long lingering stares as they had arrived at the railway station and boarded the train but very soon the commuters had gone back to looking at their mobile phones.

Damn him, he was right….again!

As the train pulled away from the station, the Laird removed his hat and held it in front of him.  The carriage was uncomfortably warm and occasionally he would use it to fan himself.  She turned her attention to the flask that she held in her hands.  The gleaming sheen from the metal casing seemed to light up the area around her but this was just her mind playing tricks on her.  To the outside world, it looked as if she was holding a book, the illusionists had been very clever when they designed it.  What swilled about within was so important that it needed to be kept safe.

The two of them stood in silence as the train made its way to this realities Aberdeen.  She had once attempted small talk with him but the Laird just dismissed her.  They were working and there would be time enough for chatter later, he said.

Or had it been the Colonel?  To be honest she could not exactly remember.  that was the problem with doing this job.  There was a lot of criss crossing done and it was not always possible to keep your own timeline and companions in the correct order.

The Laird had been staring straight ahead the entire journey, almost as if he was looking straight through the train to where they journeyed to.  There were many stories about him and what he could do but in all the time she had worked with him, he had just been a very normal man.  Still they do say that you write your own legend and she was convinced that some tales of his exploits had been started by him.  Further muddying the waters of the enemy agents perception.

“Could you release it now if you please?”

His voice had cut through the usual train noise like a razor, shattering her day dreaming.  Obediently she twisted the flask along the seal and pointed the opened end towards the carriage roof.

Time particles in their raw form looked like little liquid chrome butterflies, as they rose silently to the roof and flowed throughout the whole carriage.  Instantly the passengers were frozen, stuck in that particular moment.  The laird moved quickly and placed the reader from the device against the nearest train window.  The digital display started to whirr and a strange melody could be heard.

“Kashmir folk music” he answered her before she asked the question, “Seems to have the correct vibration.”

That was when she saw the people in the reflections.  Almost mirror images of the people who were sat silently and still in the train carriage.  Almost but not quite.  They were wearing different clothes to the branded sportswear of this reality.  The colours seemed more vibrant.

They were also angry.  their faces contorted as if they were screaming abuse at each other.  However they were looking at the occupants of the train carriage through the windows.

The Laird took a note of the numbers that appeared on the digital display and then pulled the reader from the window, leaving a perfect oblong mark where it had been just seconds before.

“Come on.” he spoke with some urgency.  Then he took a step to the right and disappeared through the travel link tube that she had not seen him create.  Quickly she followed and managed to make it just as the time particles expired and the carriage carried on as before.  The Artists Two would want to hear their report and it did not pay to keep them waiting.