Post by jdogink on Jan 7, 2009 13:36:12 GMT -5
I thought I'd share a bit of the short story I am working on. Perhaps it will inspire me to finish it. I have two more scenes to write and the blank pages are a bit intimidating.
Here's part of the opening scene:
Kye stood in front of the trophy wall and surveyed the mounted helmets of her podshot habbies. There were six of them, two rows of three, with girls on top and guys on bottom. Mitzi and Abe were the first couple to get shot. Abe’s only contribution was the vomit he spewed while they were inbound, and Mitzi—all she could do was talk about how “Oh my gawd” she only weighed twenty-three pounds now, and wouldn’t all her earthside friends be so jealous.
Wiggles and Rupesh were the second couple to go. With a name like Wiggles, Kye expected her to be well endowed in the front, a little jiggly in the middle—just enough extra fat to pull off a good belly dance—but she was exactly opposite: thin, boney, and birdlike, with beady eyes to boot. This, coupled with her tendency to start every sentence with “When I spent three months on Mars”, made her easy pod bait. Rupesh’s moon days were numbered the moment he accidentally mentioned his earthside girlfriend, who happened to be pregnant. With triplets.
“Trying to decide who to shoot next?”
Kye jumped a foot in surprise. She landed with a gentle whoosh. “Oh my gosh. Don’t do that!”
“Do what? This?” Pu grabbed Kye, tossed her up, and caught her by the waist as she came down.
“Ooo, you’re so strong.”
“You know it.” He flexed his small but lean arm muscles.
Pu and Kye were both outcasts. Kye was the token religious nut, and Pu was . . . Pu. He was short statured, athletic, olive-toned with two inch spiked hair. The odd thing about Pu—he was most certainly endowed with a greater than average number of fast-twitch muscle fibers. As a result, talking to him was like trying to maintain eye contact with a cat in a room full of flies. Unlike her habmates, Kye was able to look past his never-ending distractions, and focus on the positive qualities he shared with her feline friends, like, his unquenchable playfulness and his ability to snuggle with no strings attached.
Pu flicked the helmets of his podshot habmates and stopped at Kilgore’s and Camille’s to offer a respectful bow. “May your futures overflow with lettuce and strawberries.”
“So long as they aren’t destined for my dinner plate.”
Kilgore and Camille sealed their fates when they were caught romping around in the green house. They squashed an entire row of lettuce, several dozen ripe strawberries, and rendered half of the other edibles questionable at best.
“Who’s next on the chopping block?” Pu said. “Let’s see. There’s Neon, who flirts with everyone. Eon, who’s a carbon copy of his brother, and who also tried to suffocate you—”
This was true. Eon was her zoomer mate on the group’s first lunar tour. In an effort to be funny, he steered off the path, lost control in the fine dust, and sent them sailing into a ravine. The impact knocked out their O2, and by the time the emergency combers pulled them out, they only had ten minutes of breathable air left.
“—and Torell, who left his personality at home.”
“You’re forgetting one.”
“My helmet’s not getting mounted on this wall. You promised me.”
“I must have been sleepwalking.”
“You’re killing me, my little blue-eyed Kye.” He grabbed her arm and squeezed. Then, in a low voice, he said, “What’s Jugs saying about me these days? I think I might be getting to her.”
Kye had to come up with a lie, quick. Well, not a lie. A half-truth. No, that was still a lie. The truth was, Jugs never mentioned Pu except to say how he cackled like a monkey during their crater jumping date. Well, and there was also last night when Jugs said she was so sick of Pu that she wanted to stuff him down the “poo poo vacuum”.
“You’re definitely getting to her, but—“
“I knew it! She and me baby.” Pu leaped over to one of the sofas in the middle of the great room and hopped up on the cushions. “She and me. The last two habbies standing.” He let out a whoop and jumped once, twice, thrice. On the fourth jump, his spikes brushed the arched ceiling.
Kye put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Hey, come on. You can be my number two. But she’s my soul mate, Bluey. My soul mate.”
On jump number five, Pu head’s hit the ceiling. He lost control of his descent and landed on his knees in front of the couch. A few fast twitches later and he was back on his feet again. He smiled at Kye, then loped to the observation window.
She hopped over to him and punched his bicep. “I thought we made a deal.”
“That was before I realized my destiny.” He gestured to the speckled firmament beyond the window. “To fall in love on the twin populations’ most beloved reality show, ‘Prince and Princess’.”
For a moment, she had forgotten she was being watched, zoomed in on, cut, spliced, offered up to the Duolux audience as this season’s hoighty-toighty Bible thumper. The cameras were everywhere. Pinpoint lenses embedded in every imaginable location, to catch every imaginable and unimaginable angle of their fight for the titles “Prince” and “Princess”, or rather, for the prize money and permanent lunar residency that accompanied them.
Here's part of the opening scene:
Kye stood in front of the trophy wall and surveyed the mounted helmets of her podshot habbies. There were six of them, two rows of three, with girls on top and guys on bottom. Mitzi and Abe were the first couple to get shot. Abe’s only contribution was the vomit he spewed while they were inbound, and Mitzi—all she could do was talk about how “Oh my gawd” she only weighed twenty-three pounds now, and wouldn’t all her earthside friends be so jealous.
Wiggles and Rupesh were the second couple to go. With a name like Wiggles, Kye expected her to be well endowed in the front, a little jiggly in the middle—just enough extra fat to pull off a good belly dance—but she was exactly opposite: thin, boney, and birdlike, with beady eyes to boot. This, coupled with her tendency to start every sentence with “When I spent three months on Mars”, made her easy pod bait. Rupesh’s moon days were numbered the moment he accidentally mentioned his earthside girlfriend, who happened to be pregnant. With triplets.
“Trying to decide who to shoot next?”
Kye jumped a foot in surprise. She landed with a gentle whoosh. “Oh my gosh. Don’t do that!”
“Do what? This?” Pu grabbed Kye, tossed her up, and caught her by the waist as she came down.
“Ooo, you’re so strong.”
“You know it.” He flexed his small but lean arm muscles.
Pu and Kye were both outcasts. Kye was the token religious nut, and Pu was . . . Pu. He was short statured, athletic, olive-toned with two inch spiked hair. The odd thing about Pu—he was most certainly endowed with a greater than average number of fast-twitch muscle fibers. As a result, talking to him was like trying to maintain eye contact with a cat in a room full of flies. Unlike her habmates, Kye was able to look past his never-ending distractions, and focus on the positive qualities he shared with her feline friends, like, his unquenchable playfulness and his ability to snuggle with no strings attached.
Pu flicked the helmets of his podshot habmates and stopped at Kilgore’s and Camille’s to offer a respectful bow. “May your futures overflow with lettuce and strawberries.”
“So long as they aren’t destined for my dinner plate.”
Kilgore and Camille sealed their fates when they were caught romping around in the green house. They squashed an entire row of lettuce, several dozen ripe strawberries, and rendered half of the other edibles questionable at best.
“Who’s next on the chopping block?” Pu said. “Let’s see. There’s Neon, who flirts with everyone. Eon, who’s a carbon copy of his brother, and who also tried to suffocate you—”
This was true. Eon was her zoomer mate on the group’s first lunar tour. In an effort to be funny, he steered off the path, lost control in the fine dust, and sent them sailing into a ravine. The impact knocked out their O2, and by the time the emergency combers pulled them out, they only had ten minutes of breathable air left.
“—and Torell, who left his personality at home.”
“You’re forgetting one.”
“My helmet’s not getting mounted on this wall. You promised me.”
“I must have been sleepwalking.”
“You’re killing me, my little blue-eyed Kye.” He grabbed her arm and squeezed. Then, in a low voice, he said, “What’s Jugs saying about me these days? I think I might be getting to her.”
Kye had to come up with a lie, quick. Well, not a lie. A half-truth. No, that was still a lie. The truth was, Jugs never mentioned Pu except to say how he cackled like a monkey during their crater jumping date. Well, and there was also last night when Jugs said she was so sick of Pu that she wanted to stuff him down the “poo poo vacuum”.
“You’re definitely getting to her, but—“
“I knew it! She and me baby.” Pu leaped over to one of the sofas in the middle of the great room and hopped up on the cushions. “She and me. The last two habbies standing.” He let out a whoop and jumped once, twice, thrice. On the fourth jump, his spikes brushed the arched ceiling.
Kye put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Hey, come on. You can be my number two. But she’s my soul mate, Bluey. My soul mate.”
On jump number five, Pu head’s hit the ceiling. He lost control of his descent and landed on his knees in front of the couch. A few fast twitches later and he was back on his feet again. He smiled at Kye, then loped to the observation window.
She hopped over to him and punched his bicep. “I thought we made a deal.”
“That was before I realized my destiny.” He gestured to the speckled firmament beyond the window. “To fall in love on the twin populations’ most beloved reality show, ‘Prince and Princess’.”
For a moment, she had forgotten she was being watched, zoomed in on, cut, spliced, offered up to the Duolux audience as this season’s hoighty-toighty Bible thumper. The cameras were everywhere. Pinpoint lenses embedded in every imaginable location, to catch every imaginable and unimaginable angle of their fight for the titles “Prince” and “Princess”, or rather, for the prize money and permanent lunar residency that accompanied them.
