Khieri's Stories

I Should Be Asleep

2008-05-26T04:56:15Z

I am falling asleep -
I wonder what, if anything, I’ll dream.
I hear the trains screaming and
I see nothing but the dark behind my eyelids.
I want a dream, any dream.
I am waiting eagerly to fall asleep.
~ _{I pretend that I’m already there…
I feel, not the sheets around me, but the dream aether.
I touch something, not real, and fall into the dream.
I worry, too much, that it will be nightmarish.
I cry out in a sudden irrational panic.
I am not asleep.} ~
I understand too late that I have fallen, not asleep, but awake, &
I say, quietly, “Aw, crap.”
I dream no more – I am now hopelessly entangled in waking.
I try, so hard, to regain that drowsy feeling and
I hope that it comes soon but oh, gods,
I am going to be so tired in the morning…

Automatic Writing Inspirer/Challenge

2008-05-26T04:42:44Z

Automatic writing is the state in which you, the writer, ideally sits down and just lets words flow. There’s no conscious thought or particularly anything to say. Just let the words come!

Although I’m not exactly sure how it’ll work, it’s at least maybe somewhat of an inspiration, or dare I say, a challenge? Write a sentence…a paragraph…a whole story…whatever… in as unconscious a manner as you can. Just let it go and see what you come up with!

Here’s an example, just off the cuff:
Ferocious mantra rising high above the ultra atmospherics the heroics of the sutra make all things jam with gel-filled fervor.

Wow, I know, pretty surreal, huh? Why not let me see what you’ve got in that crazy cranium? Go on, kids, give it a shot.

Just to say

2008-05-25T02:18:40Z

This is just to say

that I don’t think I should apologize.

I don’t think I’m wrong

at all.

You’re the one who should be sorry.

You hurt my feelings.

You treated me like dirt.

But I love you.

I don’t want us to not be friends

because for some reason

I care about you.

So, I guess I’m sorry.

Dumbass.

Castles in the Air

2008-05-25T02:12:44Z

“Work faster!” I screamed at the heaving, sweating, writhing bodies. “It must be built before it all falls down!”

The castle teetered dangerously in the winds and I swayed on my perch. I hung on and glowered at the builders…well, slaves… um, FORCED LABOR , who were fearfully – and altogether too slowly for my taste – building the foundations of this great flying fortress.

The problem with the flying fortress is that, well, buildings can’t fly. Tell that to the fortress, ok? It doesn’t listen to me. In fact, I know you’re thinking I enslaved those poor people down there, but actually it was our flying buddy. It wants to fly free, but hey, little problem with gravity here. So now we’re all trying to figure out how to either make it fly in hopes it will let us free OR get it stuck in one place so we can all escape.

Yeah, right…it’s a giant, sentient flying fortress and it’s not stupid. We’re not getting out of here. We all know that. But hey, where there’s life there’s hope, right? Right…?

The Silence of Mr. S

2008-05-11T02:09:35Z

He lay in the bed, breathing in, breathing out. The television chattered inanely in his ear, but he wasn’t really listening. Instead his attention was fixated on just one thing – the lazy ass tech across the room. There she sat, playing her Game Boy or whatever the hell those things are called now and not paying any attention to him at all. He waved, he mouthed…nothing. Jesus. Unbelievable. The dumbass finally looked up when she heard the call bell go off.
“What can I do for you, sir?” She said oh-so-fucking sweetly. He waved her over and said without words that he’d peed; he needed help. She cleaned him up without comment, but he wanted to see that face she made when she was outraged, so he gave her the finger as she gently turned him back.
“Hey! What was that for?” she laughed. Laughed! Dammit!
Now he was pissed, so he did the one thing he could do, the only thing he could completely do freely. He closed his eyes and ignored her. He heard the the long silence and then rustling as she sat back down.

Breaking Free

2008-03-24T20:56:52Z

The article gave me the impetus to change, but now I had to act on it. The drive – the will – to change is a wonderful thing, but how in the hell was I going to do it?

I had no money. I was almost but not quite done with my bachelor’s degree. All I had was my voice, my dream, and validation from the writer of a popular magazine’s editorial on letting yourself feel free to take as long as you need to grow. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it was enough. I needed more.

I asked my department head, and I asked my mentor. I asked my vocal coach and my voice teacher and my mother. I asked my cat. I asked and asked, and no one told me that I was wrong…but no one said it was right, either.

Finally, I realized I had to stop seeking authentication. My dreams were bright, and my will was as strong as the day I read that article. You know, it had to be done. I packed my bags, moved to Rome, and began my life as an opera singer.

In Six Words

2008-03-24T05:28:16Z

Die a little more each day…...................................

The Librarian's Dilemma

2008-03-24T05:19:45Z

The lady walked through the shelves, delicately running her fingers over, but not quite touching the spines. Her face looked wise and compassionate, knowledgeable of all the mysteries of the aether.
The calm of the huge library was shattered as an assistant ran in. “My lady,”, she panted, “we are under attack! There’s a mob, and, and, they’re waving torches, and…we have to go! We have to escape!”
The librarian’s face betrayed no fear. “Go, and take as many books as you can. Tell the others, and escape through the catacombs. I will face this mob alone.”
Tears ran down the assistant’s face. “My lady…please don’t waste your life. These writings are not worth you dying! Please…don’t do this…”
The librarian drew herself up. “What better thing,” she asked, “can there be than to protect knowledge? I will be fine. I will live on, through your words and your memory of me. Now, go.”
The assistant ran, and the librarian stayed. Hypatia died protecting her books at the library of Alexandria.

The Day I Lost My Cat

2008-03-24T05:03:48Z

I was smiling at my cat as I walked in the door. Just a stupid, inane smile that I reserve for my animals. When I looked up, my mother sat staring at me. There was no smile; her face was drawn and white and old.
I dropped the cat and went to her.
“Mama, what is it?” I said. “Is Grandpa OK?”
I guess you never think about tragedy striking closer to home, until one day it does. Without a word, my mother turned around the computer monitor to face me. There was the announcement, in plain words on the screen.
My father was dead. I was looking at the newspaper article telling how it happened. I suppose it’s not important how he died, but it struck me like an H-bomb to the chest.
That night, my cat ran away. I never saw my cat – or my father – again.

James and the Giant Apocalypse

2008-01-22T20:46:24Z

James’s large frightened eyes traveled slowly around the room. The creatures, some sitting on chairs, others reclining on a sofa, were all watching him intently.

“It’s amazing,” he thought, “that I am still sane. I mean, I’ve been taken from my home, poked, prodded, examined, and now I’m sitting on a large overstuffed armchair looking at these….these things. I could really, incidentally, stand some food.” Thoughts flooded James’ mind as he stared fearfully at his….well, he’d decided to call them hosts for now.

One of them spoke, a babble of gibberish to James’ ears. It was incredibly loud, and instantly overwhelming to his sensitive hearing. He screamed, a ululation of pain. In that instant, the dam broke. The barriers on his sanity shattered and James, all thoughts of hospitality and diplomacy forgotten, became the giant slavering monster the humans had feared. The humans’ strange white abode decimated, James oozed over the disentegrating ground towards the city. The humans would pay.