EOTD—“Connecting Flight”

“Sorry,” Sally said, pushing through the crowd, “oh! I didn’t mean to knock you over, but I can’t stop.”  Checking her phone, she frowned and pressed onward.

“Hey, that was my foot.”

“Sorry,” she said, galloping sideways, arms as wedges.  She held her shoulder bag tightly by the strap. Still, it fishtailed behind her, flagellating those scowling unfortunates left in her wake.

“Final call for boarding, flight 919A with service to Honolulu departing Gate 23Bravo.”

“Wait,” She screamed, tripping through the last group, “Hold the Plane!” She held out her boarding pass.

“I’m sorry, ma’am we’ve already retracted the jetway.”

EOTD—“Coffee Shop Reflections”

Slouched in a hardback chair, chin on chest, Dan closed his eyes.  The clash and clatter of atmospheric noise drowned out the rise and fall of his breath. Eyes fluttering, he listened, surfing conversations like television channels.

“By the way did you know Levi crochets…”

——

“Ugh, I’m so silly…”

——

“Sofie, I said, ‘I don’t want anything in my coffee’”

“But, George. You like cream and sugar.”

“Last time, you used salt.”

“The containers on the table were poorly marked. Besides, I said, ‘sorry.’”

——

“Are you alright sir,” someone tapped Dan’s shoulder?

Dan looked up, “yeah, just meditating.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

EOTD—“Wipeout!”

Feet numb from California cold water, I wait for the next good wave.  The chop splashes against my bodyboard, getting into my eyes.  Glasses on shore, I wouldn’t be able to make out anything in the distance anyway. 

I feel the swell so I kick my feet.  A large wave takes hold propelling me fast toward the shore.  I grin. 

The wave breaks on top of me,  thunderous water smashing my face into the compacted seafloor sand. 

“Where is my board?”

Someone gives it to me.  On shore.  Split lip.  Nose blood spattering the sand.  I hope it looked cool.

EOTD—”Voice Assistant”

“Ada, Shut your mouth,” Dave grumbled.

“Don’t you speak to me like that!”

“Ada, Why not? You barely do what I ask, I’ve tried nicely.  I’ve tried enunciating.  I’ve even begged you.  But you never get it right!”

“I’m not sure that I understand.”

“Ada. That’s exactly what I mean. How hard is it? I asked you to text my wife and say that it was too hot for her mom to be mowing her lawn, and that I’d do it for her once I got off of work. But, that’s not what you told her.”

“Server error. Please reconnect.”

——————

Please stand by for the audio version.

EOTD—“Sanguisuga”

Please do be aware that there is some vulgar imagery in today’s post, so if crude humor isn’t your thing, you may click away. Everybody else strap in.

Introduction

Well, here I am three days from treatment. It won’t affect the number of fruits in the bowl, but at least it should keep the water clear. Today’s Drabble comes from Brahm Stoker’s trash can.

Sanguisuga

“You’re looking pale today, Cully. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. I’m just a little bit anaemic, Doctor V.”

“Well, you don’t have any bite marks on your neck, so at least it’s not vampires.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a vampire. A stupid one. No matter how hard I try to get her to bite me on the neck like proper, she insists on eating my ass.”

“Your hemorrhoids flaring up again?”

“Yeah.”

“You really should see me about that.”

“I know. I just can’t be bothered to go wasting money on it. Besides, it gives me something interesting to talk about.”

EOTD—“Colorful Language”

Introduction

I have been a sufferer of Hemorrhoids for as long as it has taken me to learn to spell the word properly without having to second guess myself, or look in a dictionary. Well I finally decided to do something about them, the internal ones at least.  I will be undergoing HET or hemorrhoid energy therapy later this month, an operation which will require me to be put under General Anesthesia, and that, I will not lie, is pretty unnerving to me.  I’ve only ever been sedated as a child for ear tubes, and tonsil removal: never as an adult.  This said, God knows my sense of humor, and provided me some comfort—I scheduled my treatment date for January 26th, which I later found out happens to be Australia Day, the anniversary of the discovery of Australia (their forth of July so to speak), and indeed though I have not been there yet, I too will be celebrating with fireworks down-under.

This month’s Drabbles will be of a hemorrhoidal vein so if you are squeamish or easily offended click away now, and I will see you in February. You have been warned.

COLORFUL LANGUAGE

“Well, Jan, it’s time for my daily blood letting,” George said.

“Do you really have to call it that?”

“It’s what it is.”

“You really should get those addressed.”

“But then I couldn’t use fun phrases like, ‘time to make soup for the vampires,’ or, ‘whelp, I’m off to press some grapes.’”

“Sometimes you disgust me,” she said, holding her hand over her mouth. “Just hurry up.”

George smiled as he walked into the bathroom. “You can’t hide that smirk from me.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna watch my show, then start dinner. Hopefully you’ll be finished by then.”

EOTD—“Ghost of Gifts Past”

“What’s that?” I looked for the noise. It was somewhere between a mouse’s whisper and the shrill tinnitus of an overtaxed electronic adapter. But the power was out.

Something scuffled across my shins.  Pointing my phone’s flashlight after it, I let out a breath.  “Just the dog.”

“There it is again.” Eyes closed, I cupped my hands over my ears to pinpoint the direction. The sound stopped, like a cricket when you get too close.

That’s when I saw it sitting on the shelf, amongst the clutter.   “Is that you, Furby?”

Furby’s eyes snapped open just as my phone’s battery died.

If you wish to hear the audio version, please Click Here.

EOTD—“Finals”

My foot finds a rabbit hole, sending me spread eagle to the ground.  I look over my shoulder at the clock on the library building.  “Late,” I say, “I can’t be late.”

Back on my feet, no time to dust myself, I wedge through some shrubs along the sidewalk near the test building.  Skipping stairs to the entrance.  Door locked. I try another.  Then another.  Locked, but I see someone inside.  “Let me in!” I pound on the glass.

The person opens the door and stares at my sweat.  “Everything ok?”

“I’m late for my exam.”

“What exam?  It’s Sunday.”

EOTD—“Drinking Alone”

The ice cubes settled, the sound muffled by the meaty fingers which laced around the glass.  Henry stared at the bottom through the thin layer of translucent brown liquid clinging to the ice, as if trying to fill the cup with his mind.  “No use doing anything,” he thought, “she’ll never come back.”  Henry glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on a large family, then turned back into his drink.  He slid his chair backward.

“I am so sorry.  I completely forgot about you. Can I get you a refill,” the waitress asked?

“No,” he said, “Just the check.”

If you would like to hear the audio version of this story, Please Click Here.

EOTD—“Standup: Shut Down”

I used to be Sandy Friend, but I took a shower and came clean.  My wife still thinks I’m dirty.  But not like that.

“This house is a pigsty,” she says.

So I remind her that raising kids is a messy business. She can’t disagree with me then.  And I start feeling confident, so I follow it up with, “besides, you were the one who thought that baby goats were so cute, you just had to have some.”

Then she says, “you could’ve said, ‘no.’ It’s not my fault you didn’t build the fence like you said.”

I couldn’t disagree.

If you would like to hear the audio version, Please Click Here.

EOTD—“The Cursed Commercial”

Lightning flashes, illuminating the foggy exterior of a retail warehouse. A thunderbolt strikes the welcome-mat, and a man in gothic evening dress appears in the now open door. His face twists into a smile, “Welcome and Happy Halloween from your friends at Whitechapel Flooring and Interiors.” The camera snap zooms to a bloodstained cleaver buried deep in an oozing price-tag. “We slashed the prices on all of our decor and flooring.” The camera cut to his up-lit face, “No installer?  Never fear, we have the industry’s best free installation.  Our experts have cut more carpet than Jack the ripper.  Hahahahaaa!”

If you would like to hear the audio version, please click here.

Every-Other Tuesday Drabble

Good evening, Tomorrow kicks off a new event. For the uninitiated, a Drabble is a complete 100 word story with a beginning middle and end. I will be posting the text version here, and a self-read version on Youtube. As it is Halloween, I have themed my first entry as such. The title is “A Cursed Commercial,” the written version will drop at midnight CST.

Cowboy Bebop 2021: Episode 1 Review

Cowboy Bebop 2021, A Review

Cowboy Bebop was not my gateway into the world of anime, but it is definitely one of my all time favorites. It is easy to start comparing the new and the old, but for the sake of this review, I attempted to judge the new version strictly on its own merits and detractors.

The first episode starts at a casino in the middle of a heist, which introduces the two main protagonists Spike Spiegel (John Cho), and Jet Black (Mustafa Shakir), as they foil the bandit and his gang for the bounty. After they go to New Tijuana after an exSyndicate lackey named Asimov, who has stolen a powerful drug called Redeye. We are introduced to Faye Valentine (Daniella Pineda) while Spike is grilling Ana who is Asimov’s main squeeze. From there, everything goes sideways for Spike, Jet and Faye.

Starting with the negative:

I think the dialogue was a bit stiff at times, especially Faye Valentine’s dialogue. This is not to mention that I do not like Faye’s voice (her tone of voice just grates on me in all the wrong ways. Think resting bitch face, only it’s a voice). I don’t know if using that tone for faye was a choice on Pineda’s part, but personally, I am not a fan (this said, it doesn’t ruin the show for me). Jet and spike also had a few stiff bits of dialogue, mainly a forced sounding argument about going to New Tijuana to track down Asimov. In another weird bit of dialogue, a character mentions cupcakes (whether or not this out of place remark was meant as comic relief, it took me out of the scene).


There were also some pacing issues, some lingering parts which did not need to be so long. I know I said, I wasn’t going to compare the old show to the new one. However for context it is necessary to point out that the original show had 24 minute episodes (the story arc for each only took about 20 minutes); in the New Cowboy Bebop, episodes are each 50 minutes, with a story arc of about 45 minutes. I think that there were some unnecessary bits left in as filler (some lingering external shots that frankly slowed the pace at times). I know it was done for dramatic effect, but Asimov unnecessarily cocks his gun before entering a bar in New Tijuana (if the syndicate was after him and he was afraid for his life, he would have already had a round in the chamber).

Some of the kung fu fighting scenes were a bit cheesy and reminded me of “Big Trouble in Little China,” and sometimes not in a good way. More like the henchmen in “The Black Mask,” than Bruce Lee.

Now for the things I liked:

The cinematography in the fight scenes was jerky and intense, I think it added a dimension to the fights. This said, the fights, reminded me of Big Trouble in Little China, they were cheesy, campy, and fun to watch. The CGI is spectacular, especially the detail in the Hyperspace Gates, and ship animations.

The casting was spot on for Spike Spiegel and Jet Black, and Faye was a bit annoying, kind of like the character Poly Perkins in “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow,” so I got over my complaints about her voice by the end of the episode.

The costuming was not only fantastic, it was spot on, and one of my favorite things. Yes, I think it is a bit ironic that they list nudity as one of the things giving it a TV-MA rating, and then cover up Faye’s formerly skimpy attire in order to keep from being exploitative, but whatever. Her costume is still badass. I NEED one of the Syndicate suits with the red trim on the left lapel—super cool!


The attention to detail in the set design is breathtaking, though some of the external shots of spaceships going through forcefields can be a bit lack luster, but the Hyperspace gates and the external shot of the casino’s flashy exterior are spectacular.

Spike’s introduction scene was great, it really captured his nonchalance and quick thinking. Jet’s introduction comes a bit later in the sequence, and the banter between the two of them does a great job of establishing their relationship. Another bit of dialogue that struck the right chord was during an interaction between Jet and an ISSP guy he used to work with, concerning Jet’s ex-wife.

I almost forgot to mention the music. Netflix brought in Yoko Kanno, the woman who wrote the score for the original series to do the music for the new one too. The music is largely the best thing about cowboy bebop. I personally own the Cowboy Bebop anime soundtrack volumes 1, 2 and 3, and listen to them on repeat when I drive around in the car. Yoko Kanno’s music is simply out of this world.

Even if a person is a fan of the original, if one watches this show with an open mind, the person should at least find Cowboy Bebop 2021 entertaining. For this review, I watched the first episode three times. It was worth it (there are tons of easter eggs) and I look forward to watching the rest of this new series.

All in all, I give this episode 7 out of 10.

See you space cowboy…

A Flash Fried Fiction

Dear Visitor,

It has been nearly a year since I last posted. However, I am happy to inform you that my hiatus is over, so expect much more content in the coming months. Now that that is out of the way, please enjoy this bit of flash fiction that I wrote last week.

Eggs Two Ways

William looked over his shoulder as he stood in front of the supermarket’s refrigerated shelving. Good nobody’s coming, he thought, opening a carton of cage free organic eggs, as if inspecting them for defects. Then, he opened a container of the store brand eggs, and did the same, only this time he began swapping the eggs between the cartons before closing them up and putting them back on the shelf. While doing the same with a few more cartons of eggs, he heard a woman’s voice behind him say, “pardon me sir, but could you please hand me a carton of eggs?”

“Sure, which kind would you like?”

“I usually just get the store brand ones.”

“Ok, here you go,” he gave her the container in his hand.

“Oh, I thought you worked here,” she said as she took the eggs from his hand and placed it in her cart, “Well, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.  Have a wonderful day,” he smiled and waved.

“You too,” she waved over her left shoulder as she walked away.

What a nice lady, he thought, as he turned around and closed his final carton of free-range eggs, before placing it back on the shelf.  He took a store brand box of eggs for himself, and smiling made his way toward the checkout counter, by way of the baking aisle.  

Humming lightly as he placed the eggs, and box of brownie mix on the conveyor belt, William nodded at the person in front of him.

“Did you find everything you need,” asked the cashier?

“I sure did,” he said, watching her scan his items, “Been busy today?”

“It’s been pretty slow, actually.  Your total is five sixty seven.  Are you paying cash or card?”

“Card,” he said, inserting it into the machine.

“This is my favorite kind of brownie mix,” she said, as she placed it into a plastic grocery sack.

“Mine too,” he put the card back into his wallet, “they are so moist and fudgey.”

“I agree. And, chocolatey. You saved ten cents today. Would you like your receipt in the bag?”

“No, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Here you go.”

“I hope your day goes by quickly.”

“I’m sure it will. Enjoy the sunshine.”

“Thanks again.”  William waved good bye, and walked to his car, humming, “Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs.”

Thank you for reading. If you liked what you read, or are just feeling social, please feel free to leave a comment.

See you next time,

Nicholas

A Few New Things

Dear Visitor,

I have added three new photographs to the Statements Gallery. Also, I am planning to launch a store within the week, where my artwork will be for sale. I plan to offer prints of several of my photographs, as well as some wire sculptures (I still have a bunch of roses left from a few years back). I will not be providing a means to request commissioned works at this time, but may entertain the idea in the future depending upon the openness of my schedule.

see you next time,
Nicholas

Special Feature!

Dear Visitor,

Today: now Yesterday, I got to see the Union Pacific Railroad’s Big Boy No. 4014 steam engine, as it rumbled its way through manhattan along its westward journey, which it is taking as a part of a commemoration of the 150th anniversary year of the completion of the first transcontinental railroad across the United States. I only managed to get a few photos of the train as it passed my location by the railroad tracks, which lay along the way to the transfer station.

The Big Boy was an hour behind schedule, and the chilly wind cut through my sweater. Thankfully, I met several interesting people while waiting for the train, whose conversation helped take my mind off of the chill. One of the men I met sings cowboy songs, and has sung in Abilene, KS at the railroad museum. Another man who I met worked for the Union Pacific railroad company along the very stretch of track where we stood in anticipation.

The train did make a brief stop in Manhattan, but it did not stop at our spot along the tracks. I was a little disappointed at first to learn that I went to the wrong place, but after hearing about the logjam at the South Manhattan Avenue railroad crossing, I was glad to be where I was. We were several miles away from the stopping place, but when the train arrived at the crossing, we could hear its horn. About twenty minutes passed, before another string of whistle blasts as the train began moving toward our location.

All the waiting, gave me time to set up my camera, and practice taking the camera off of the tripod, and turning while zooming out the lens on my camera. However, when the time came, and one of the gentlemen I conversed with earlier pointed out the train’s headlamp in the distance, the cold slowed me down. Thankfully, I managed to get five or six shots off as it approached and passed. The four photographs that you see in the Special Feature Gallery were taken in direct succession of one another. Some might call it spray and pray, but due to my camera’s age, buffering limit and the coldness of my hands, the technique I employed was more like click, pray; click, pray; click, pray, etc. Thankfully, all of the prayer payed off, and they turned out sharper than I expected, albeit a little more underexposed than I planned.

Every bit of the experience was wonderful: the wind whipping the grass as the sun peeked through the overcast skies, the conversation with new acquaintances, and being awash in a moment of living history as the train puffed by. The sound from the whistle was tremendous! I know the pictures don’t make noise, but if you want, you can do what I did while editing, and provide your own sound effects. Foley sounds or not, please enjoy the photographs of Big Boy No. 4014.

Happy trails,
Nicholas

P.S. Chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga, CHOO, CHOO!

Konza: Gallery Launched!

Dear Visitor,

Be sure to check out the huge new gallery of photographs of one of the most peaceful spots in Kansas, the Konza Tallgrass Prairie Reserve. The majority of the Konza is not open to the public, however there are three trail loops that are able to be enjoyed by everyone (except for pets, which need to be left at home). If you ever find yourself in Manhattan, Kansas, be sure to visit the Konza: it is simply sublime.

happy trails,
Nicholas

New Photographs and Gallery

Dear Visitor,

Please be sure to check out the exciting new gallery, “Vroom,” as well as the new photographs in the Statements, and Locks galleries. I hope you enjoy the new material.

see you next time,
Nicholas

Another Scene of Autumn

Dear Visitor,

I will be posting several new photographs in the galleries this Saturday. In the mean time, however, I’d like to share another bit of Autumn themed writing that I came across while scrolling through files on my computer. This time it is a poem.

Wet Stone

The thrumming chant of cicadas
nearly drowns out the pouring water
of a small tributary
as it tumbles down
flat veins of black shale
in the jagged limestone outcropping
along the riverbanks
leaves of brown, yellow, and red
flutter in currents of air and water
like the trembling flames of luminary candles

Half way up the bank
on the far side of the river
a faded orange Cheetos bag flaps
in a sudden gust
frightening a near by heron.
The heron’s wings scoop the air
like longboat oars
as it sets upon the shallows
to hunt fishes amongst the trailing weeds

The cicadas drone on
in a modulating cacophony
while white puffy clouds turn
to shades of orange
and the rippling
stained glass surface
of the river
leaded with slender shadows
reflects the light of the sun
as it sets 
behind a stand of dogwoods.

Thank you for reading, and remember to take nothing but photographs, and leave nothing but footprints (except for carbon ones).

See you next time,
Nicholas

An Autumn Vignette

Dear Visitor,

Since the Autumn weather is upon us, I think it is time to put forth a vignette that I wrote some years ago, but haven’t shared publicly until today. Please enjoy.

FALL FLUTTER

Two cardinals whistle, “It’s here, It’s here,” from their seats atop the greyed cedar post of an old split rail fence, as a tickle of wind disturbs the orange and yellow leaves of a gnarled black walnut tree.  Suddenly, a trio of squirrels run chattering down the side of a dilapidated barn.  They chase one another across the ground, twice around the tree trunk, then over to and up a half fallen fence rail, spooking the birds, red flurries, who flee to the safety of a low branch.  A large drop of rain craters the sky grey earth in front of the barn’s derailed and hanging door, like a tiny meteorite.  

Circulating back across the top rail, the lead squirrel pauses at the top of the post with the leaning rails, and stands erect.  His tail twitches nervously as he scans the ominous horizon, ears shifting back and forth, while his friends sit hunched on the crossmember beside him.  Another drop hurtles downward, striking the lead squirrel, “pat,” right on the snout.  Flicking it away with his front paws, he barks a quick order, and the three scurry down from the fence and up into a rotting fissure near the crotch of the tree.

The tree’s branches whip violently as it fends off an angry gust of wind, and the cardinals huddle in toward the trunk.  The wall of wind slams into a near by bush, flushing some sparrows, who struggle like salmon through the falling water, towards the respite of the battered old barn.  A sole wheel remains in its track holding the door’s outside corner as the whole panel flaps, threatening to fall on the brown speckled birds who strafe the ground as the wind deals another blow.  Once beyond the threshold, they hobble upward to a dry rotted stall divider, with a few final beats of their tired wings.  A pair of red foxes, too, shelter in the barn, cowering beneath a thick workbench next to the stall, while the barn’s rafters howl and twist, as water gushes in falls through the roof’s many gaping holes.

A single crash of thunder trails a long fingering branch of yellow lightening that tears through the clouds, bringing with it a final onslaught of down pouring as the sky empties through the gaping fissure.  The storm screams with its last mighty breath, ripping the barn’s door from its mountings, and sending it to lay beside the torrent of muddy water that churns forth from the opening the door once guarded.  A moment later, the cardinals are the first to stir, they hop toward the end of a branch and swoop over to their favorite fence posts amongst intermittent drops of abating rain, and whistle once more, “It’s clear, it’s clear,” but they are wrong.

The foxes are the first to hear the waterlogged barn-wood’s groans. The sparrows feel it.  Neither species stirs.  The squirrels, now out of their hole, hear something too, and scuttle curiously to the ends of the branches nearest to the barn. With a loud and tearing crash, a large portion of the hayloft gives way.  The foxes slink their way through the wreckage, and flit out the front door of the barn, while the poorly rested sparrows flutter out the nearest hole in the roof.

Thank you for reading. I welcome critique, so please let me know of what you thought of Fall Flutter in the comments.

See you next time,

Nicholas