Vonster's Stories

Newmatter

2008-11-11T11:18:57Z

Rob is a professor of theoretical physics at Imperial College, London. His thesis on “Time Folding” had figuratively and literally opened up new portals of opportunity for him professionally. That said he enjoyed his tenured position teaching.

Practical application was important to him, mere calculation of theories alone was futile. Being a fan of the American TV show “MythBusters,” he let his students participate in physical experiments that supported the core concepts of the theoretical treatise he taught.

At his home lab in Sussex, he worked on a new experiment based on his thesis. It functioned like a Spinning Wheel, twisting fibers of time space and folding them on a molecular level to create what he called “Newmatter.”

Tonight would determine once and for all if this myth was plausible or busted.

A nervous smile kidnapped his face as he turned to his laptop and positioned the cursor over the “Run” button and said.

“I reject your reality and substitute it for my own.” He then clicked the button.

Mapping Algorithms

2008-07-01T06:18:52Z

The new “Replisuite” would have fooled him if he hadn’t been the one who installed the new tactic holo emitters. Since the new science movement discovery of spacial rifts, reality had quickly become the new fiction.

Looking through out the room he attempted to distinguish anything that would reveal his true location. He felt like he was at home, on his bed relaxing. This was good since he was actually on the 35th floor in a new suite at the “Jumeirah Emirates Towers” in Dubai.

His install seemed flawless, a perfect replication. He pushed a button on a nearby remote and said “Run “Eros Beta One.”

The room lights dimmed, soft music played and a floral scent graced the air. The bathroom door opened and out walked a tall, beautiful woman wearing a pink teddy. She was slowly combing her long black hair, her breasts swayed ever so slightly as she approached and spoke.

“More tests?”
“Yes.” Said the man grinning.
“What is it this time?” She said setting down the brush.
“We need to check your mapping algorithms.”

EssentialNonsense.com

2008-02-09T22:28:07Z

Some people say he has an addiction to domain names. He obviously owns far more then he is using. But it begs the question.

Where does passion end and obsession begin?

Who decides when the line has been crossed? What constitutes the labeling of someone as being an obsessive person?

In any regard, he did own around 50 domain names. His personal favorites were:

ANNOY -O-MATIC.COM
CONTRACTTODATEMYDAUGHTER .COM
FUTURECLONE .COM
HAPPYAFRO .COM
LETMYIMAGINATIONRUNWILD .COM
ORNERYFROG .COM
RENTACLONE .COM
SQUIGGLEHEADS .COM
STICKERDOODLES .COM
THUGBUNNY .COM
UNTILJESUSRETURNS .COM

One of these domains was already in use, and the others would possibly be used on future projects and viral marketing concepts.

The crown jewel of his collection, the holy grail of domains if you will and the one he cherished above all else would have to be:

ESSENTIALNONSENSE .COM

It summed up his passion for domains quite succinctly. The two word domain might be argued by some as an oxymoron perhaps, but none the less accurate in definition.

Someday

2008-02-08T08:44:10Z

It was another glorious day. Warm rays of light gracefully sweeping the heavenly landscape as Reuben eagerly made his way to work excited about his newest idea.

“This is my best work yet.” Thought Reuben as he rushed along continuing to ponder.

“Sure they’ve rejected previous ideas of mine, but this one is a no-brainer. Everyone has requested it according to the request logs.” He shook his head in affirmation and smiled.

Reuben’s idea was simple. Create a new day in between Sunday and Monday. And name it “Someday.” No one would ever be able to say again “I don’t have enough time.”

He stepped off the golden curb crossed the street entering the Bureau of Time Management building, and headed to the seventh floor continuing to contemplate.

“I bet I make Archangel for this idea!” He said raising an eyebrow. His conscience immediately stirred, as guilt set in and he said softly. “Forgive me. That was prideful.”

The elevator pinged and the door slid open. Reuben exited and walked towards his bosses office.

Craptacular!

2008-02-03T10:40:08Z

The sun peeked over the horizon and a cool breeze caused the leaves to dance.

Chet had slept through his alarm. Flying tired meant a late arrival but he made a promise and would keep it.

“What took so long?” Al asked.

“Newborns kept me up all night.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts. They’ll be out of the nest before you know it.”

Chet yawned and nodded. He looked around then hesitantly asked.

“You and Robin still moving south together?”

“Yes.” Al said reluctantly.

Chet turned and looked down the road and a smile kidnapped his face.

“Check it out.” He said pointing.

Al looked and smiled too. “A convertible!”

The driver in the car continued down the road when out of no where, a warm, white, lumpy mass exploded in his face and covered his shoulders.

The car spun out, veered off the road and bounced to a stop as a massive dust cloud engulfed it.

Chet laughed so hard he nearly lost purchase of the wire as his wings flapped to gain control.

“Perfect!” Chet said.

“Craptacular!” Al said as they both howled.

New Color

2008-02-03T08:00:31Z

The hum of the cars tires on the vacant county road had a soothing effect as he stared straight ahead and reviewed the days events.

He had to ask her soon, she was simply too wonderful not to be noticed by others. He shouldn’t be too nervous, she liked him. At least he thought she did?

The advertising pitch went over well. There’s a few changes the client requested, but overall it was a success.

I need to swing by the grocer and get more milk.

A beam of light suddenly flooded the cars cab startling him. He grabbed the wheel tightly, hit the brakes and yelled.

“What the hell!”

The tires screeched and the car slid sideways off the road, onto the gravel and came to an abrupt stop.

The light enveloped him. It was bright but not blinding. He could feel a warm energy moving through his body. He was speechless, shaking, unable to even blink.

The light began to pulse and change color, but it was unlike any color he’d ever seen. He could hardly comprehend it let alone describe it. He could only experience it.

Dull Whisper

2008-02-02T23:07:15Z

Like a dull whisper in the dark of night his feelings were barely audible. An oppressive inner dread that cascaded his senses ever so slightly moment by moment.

Dream or reality? His memory now was a spinning existence of truncated conversations, fragmented visuals followed by sharp pin pricks all over his body.

From the outside he appeared calm, self assured and competent to those around him. But just under this shallow facade, veiled thinly by 500 mg of Thioridazine twice daily, stirred a turbulent storm of soulful confusion.

He starred at the bologna sandwich, smiled at a co-worker walking by and said softly to himself.

“I am not allowing it next time.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed slowly, wiped mayo off the corner of his mouth and plunged his free hand into his coat pocket to retrieve a pill. He popped it in his mouth and took a swig of cherry coke and swallowed.

He finished lunch and walked back to his desk, passing the “Employee of the Month” plaque which proudly displayed his picture.

Tellman Tales

2008-01-31T08:17:27Z

Frank Tellman is an accountant for the CIA .

The familiar ping of the computer announced the emails arrival. It caught his ear but not his attention so he continued to finesse his spread sheets.

“I need to plug in a few numbers first then I’ll check it.”

Frank’s life rarely elevated beyond the monotonous yet comforting routine of crunching budgetary figures in the agencies accounting department and today was no different.

He saved his Excel file and clicked the tab to open Outlook. The email in his inbox was from a “twarren@cia.gov” but the subject line was blank. He furrowed his brow and opened it.

Gary, G2 has been opened. Let’s talk over lunch. City of Lights.

Clearly it was sent in error. He was about to click “Reply” when he hesitated. Instead he logged into the central database and typed “tellman” in the search pane. Two “Tellman” listings came up.

“ftellman@cia.gov”
“gtellman@cia.gov”

He looked at the “Reply” button again, swallowed, then typed “G2” into the search pane and clicked return.

Brewing Conspiracy

2008-01-31T03:53:37Z

The hot coffee warmed my conscience as much as it did my palette. I stared straight ahead looking at my distorted reflection in the napkin holder on the diners counter. It was a vacant stare, no purpose, just calm resonance as I took repeated sips.

My mid-day mind bend was broken by a young couple to my right. They were huddled closely sharing hushed tones of conversation. Loud enough however that I could parse a context.

My coffee cup departed my lips as I directed my attention to my auditory senses and ever so subtly leaned in their direction.

“I am telling you they know.” He said staring deeply into her now watering eyes.

“How is that possible? We’ll never escape now.” She said breaking the visual connection and resting her forehead against his chest.

The young man looked up briefly as an elderly gentleman entered the diner and took a seat at the end of the counter.

The young man said. “Remember this number 503…”

“Refill?!” The waitress said fracturing my interception.

“No.” I said exasperated.

Cold Zone

2008-01-31T01:56:26Z

He made his way down the darkened artery of the now dead city. It was another cold day and his breath was visible, trailing along behind him like a coal-burning locomotive.

It had been nine days since he last heard from them. Certainly enough time to reach fail safe and send off a com signal. So why no contact?

The thought persisted as he approached his first marker. What if they had been detected? Surely a purge force would have already vetted this area.

He slowed his pace, looked around the immediate area and made his way up to a bent parking meter. Using a key he opened the back plate revealing a small electronic camera.

He pulled the device from the meter, removed a small memory card from a slot and proceeded to look around the area again.

Seeing no one he slowly bent over and adjusted the stocking cap he was wearing revealing a small port embedded in the side of his head.

He took the card and inserted it. Immediately his vision blurred, then raced with static as he whispered.

“Tell me something.”