Wednesday, June 28, 2023

Word: Yestreen

 

yestreen

[ ye-streen ]
noun
  1. yesterday evening; last evening.

adverb
  1. during yesterday evening.

*******************************

               Carrie rubbed her arm as she entered the living room. Her dad was in his chair, sitting with a pensive look on his face and hands clasped in his lap. The man did not seem to notice her arrival. Or at least, he did not give any indication that he did.

               “Dad? Is there something you wanted?” Carrie asked.

               Dad slowly turned to look at her. “What were you doing last evening?”

               “Huh? What do you mean? I was studying with some friends.”

               “Is that all?”

               She slumped her shoulders. “Come on Dad, don’t act like you weren’t in the next room listening in. You know that’s all we were doing.”

               The fact that he did not even try to deny her accusation of spying was all the confirmation she needed. She would have been upset, but since the study session was benign she did not see the need to make a fuss. This time anyway.

               “And what about those…those looks you were giving that boy?” His hands shook slightly as he spoke.

               “You mean Adam? I don’t think I was giving him any kind of look.”

               Well, maybe she was. But nothing that Dad would need to get upset about.

               “Really? Because I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other.”

               “I mean we were sitting across from each other at the table, so it was kind of hard to not look at each other.”

               “Not all looks are the same. I want to know what those specific looks were all about.”

               “Nothing, Dad. A few glances don’t mean anything.”

               Dad fixed his eyes on his daughter. It was almost palpable. Carrie shifted her weight from foot to foot and it became much harder to meet his gaze.

               “I…I promise, there’s nothing.” She insisted.

It sounded weak, even to her ears. It wasn’t quite a lie though. There really was nothing between her and Adam. She just thought he was really nice. And funny. And cute. And sure, she would go out with him if he asked, but right now? They were just classmates.

“Really? And you’d tell me if there was?”

“Of course.” Eventually.

Dad looked at her for several seconds before saying anything. “You know I care about you, right sweety?”

“Yeah, Dad, I know.”

“And you know I want what’s best for you, right?”

She nodded. She could already tell where this was going.

“And that I want you to be safe and happy.”

“Nothing’s happening, Dad.”

“Good. Because boys like him are no good. Oh sure, they put on a good face. They seem perfectly innocent and charming. But they’re snakes, Carrie. Snakes that will bite and leave you for dead the moment another victim comes along. I guarantee last evening’s study session was him putting on a fake personality to get…get you. Ensnare you in his little trap and leave you hurt and crying the first chance he gets.”

As Dad spoke, his breathing sped up, his hands shook more and more, and his eyes bore down into her. Carrie wanted to take a step back, but she did not.

“I…” She did not think Adam was like that. Was it too hard to believe a boy could just be nice? “I get it. I’ll be careful around him.”

“Not just him!” Dad said quickly. “All boys. All of them!”

“Yeah, Dad, all boys. No dating for me, I get it.”

Dad let out a slow breath. “Good. So long as you understand.”

“Um, can I…” She asked, gesturing to the doorway behind her.

“Yes, sweety. I’ve said what I need to. I just hope you’ll remember what I said here today.”

She would indeed remember Dad’s words. She might ignore them, but she would remember them.

*************************

I don't have a kid of any gender, so I'm just going off what few stories I know about father-daughter parenthood here. How'd I do? 

Monday, June 19, 2023

Word: Uhuru

 

uhuru

[ oo-hoo-roo; English oo-hoor-oo ]
noun Swahili.
  1. freedom; independence.

**************************************

               Maritha’s head was pounding. Fortunately, that was the only thing that seemed to be wrong with her. And her collar was still loose enough to breathe in, so whatever had happened was not in violation of her orders. She opened her eyes to see what had happened.

               She had been transported somewhere. A thin forest she did not recognize surrounded her. There was an odd feeling in the air though. It felt heavy somehow. Maritha almost reached out to the wind to get a sense of what was happening, but she stopped. The only magic she was allowed to do was the cleaning magic that had been drilled into her. Anything else would cause the collar to choke her.

               She did not even want to risk moving, lest the collar see it as an attempt at escape. But surely it would not do that. She had been taken somewhere already, and was likely well outside of her master’s territory. So perhaps the damned thing would see her as trying to get back. She took a deep breath and nearly choked on the air. It was filthy, but at least it was not going to kill her.

               Maritha took one step forward. When nothing happened, she took another step. And another. And she kept taking them. It had been years since she had been able to walk of her own volition. A smile crossed her lips. It was such a simple thing, and yet to a slave, simple things were more valuable than gold.

               And more importantly, if she could walk, she might be able to do other things as well. She tapped into her magical reserves and used it to move a small gust of air. The collar did not respond. She probed it to find out what was happening. What she found caused her eyes to open. It was dead. Starved of magic. In fact, once she was aware of it, everything seemed starved of magic. The world itself had almost none. Only enough to use the simplest of magics, and even then only sparingly. And certainly not enough to keep a complex device like a slave collar active.

               It was not long before Maritha had used her magic to cut through the leather band. And then she did something that no wind mage would be able to resist. She ran. She ran and she laughed and she shouted for anyone around to hear. She ran until her lungs ached, and then kept going. It was not until her legs gave out that she stopped. And even then she rolled on the grassy ground, laughter on her lips for the first time since her capture.

               She was free. She was finally free. No more forced labor. No more bowing and scraping for an unreasonable master. And most importantly, no more cleaning the latrines. She could go where she wanted. Do what she wanted. Say what she wanted. Be who she wanted. Well, just as soon as she figured out where she was anyway.

               With her newfound freedom, Maritha stood and headed off in a random direction, to find out what her new life would have in store for her. 

*****************************************

Other world stories are fun. Of course, most of the time it's normal person going to a magical place, but the opposite is also good. So much fun to think about, isn't it? 

Friday, June 16, 2023

Word: Immensurable

 

immensurable

[ ih-men-sher-uh-buhl, -ser-uh- ]
adjective
  1. immeasurable.

*****************************

               The stars filled the view from the window. Countless numbers of them, all immeasurable distances away. And yet, to the occupants of the small ship, they seemed like a vast tapestry printed on the universe.

               “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that view.” Hank said in a hushed voice.

               “Hm? View of what?” Chris replied, much louder than his coworker.

               “The stars.” Hank said with a nod out the window.

               Chris drifted over to look at the grand vista spreading out in all directions. He shrugged and headed back to work.

               “We’ve seen the stars before.” He said. “It’s no different than any other time.”

               “You say that like it’s not the single greatest view in existence. I mean, think about it. We’re the only people who will see this exact view. From anywhere else, and they’ll be different. Some stars will be visible, others won’t. And even the ones that are visible will be in different positions. Think about it, Chris. Think about all the different beings out there, looking up at the sky and seeing the stars. The same stars we’re seeing now, but from entirely different views. And this one? This one right here and now? This one’s all ours. Our unique sky.”

               Chris let out a non-committal grunt. Hank finally took his eyes off the stars to glare at Chris.

               “You could show some kind of emotion, you know.”

               “I am showing emotion. Indifference is an emotion, regardless of what the experts say. I just don’t see what’s so great about a bunch of burning gas balls. Gas balls that are so far away that they have no impact on our daily lives.”

               “You can be a real stick in the mud, can’t you?”

               “I just prefer to keep my mind where it matters, that’s all.”

               “Maybe you could try loosening up and appreciating the world around us. I mean, come on, man. Look where we are. We’re in space, seeing things no other human has ever seen before, and likely never will see again. You can’t look out there and tell me it doesn’t stir something inside of you.”

               “Right now, I’m mostly feeling annoyance because you won’t let me work in peace. Oh, by the way, you should really be doing your job right now instead of stargazing.”

               “Meh. That stuff can wait. It’ll all be there when I get to it.”

               It helped that their employer was several light years away. Hank figured he could afford to relax every now and then. It was one of the many benefits of deep space exploration missions. Of course, he would do his job eventually. He just did not see the need to stress out about it and make it his entire reason for being there.

               “Putting things off will just make it easier for it to not get done. Better to do the work when it comes up.” Chris said. “If you spend all your time trying to pick out new constellations, nothing will ever get done.”

               “I am not making new constellations.” Hank paused for a moment. “Well, not right now I’m not. Maybe later.”

              **************************

Not really my best work, is it. I probably should've thought about it a bit more beforehand, but oh well.