![Profile avatar image for Prose](https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/images.prod.theprose.com/user-39-square-1649632657378.png)
Joule’s Anomaly
Juliana hurried. What had been a beautiful summer day hiking the Appalachian Trail was quickly turning into a weather event. She had been completing portions of the trail as her schedule allowed, but lately her progress had been hit and miss. The approaching thunder had an ominous, low rumble that seemed to resonate within her. Her hike was about to be scrapped. Again.
Juliana finally located a trail shelter and quickly entered. A strong gust ripped the door from her grasp and flung it all the way open. She swore and pushed it shut behind her, relieved to have reached some semblance of safety from the coming storm.
“Looks like you made it just in time,” a deep male voice spoke.
Juliana turned around and squinted as her vision adjusted to the dim interior of the shelter. A man sat on the floor with his back propped against his pack. He was writing in a small leather journal. As she shrugged off her own pack, the stranger put his journal aside and rose to his feet. He approached her and offered an outstretched hand, “Arlo.” The timbre of his voice had the same effect on her as the approaching thunder: it somehow was felt more than heard.
She ignored that odd feeling and accepted his hand, “Juliana.”
Zings of electricity instantly flowed between them as they touched. It felt like a strong static shock, but instead of hurting, it felt… good? Juliana quickly pulled her hand away and stepped back.
“Whoa! That was weird, right?” She laughed nervously and rubbed one hand against the other.
Small branches were thrown onto the shelter's metal roof with a noisy clatter. Arlo glanced upward and shook his head, “Not weird at all. These conditions are ideal for energy exchange. Energy stored must be energy released at some point,” he looked at her and continued, “within the atmosphere and perhaps between humans, too...” he trailed off thoughtfully, slowly rubbing his hands together as well. Breaking eye contact, he ran a hand through his hair and gave a self-conscious laugh as he blushed.
He has great hair…I wish I could run my hands through it. Juliana mused.
It was now her turn to blush. The uncharacteristic, intrusive thought caught Juliana off guard.
Really? You've known him, what? A full two minutes? She admonished herself until she felt appropriately guilty.
“Juliana,” Arlo began to ask her something when another thought suddenly occurred to him, “your name…”
“Yeah, but no one calls me that. Everyone has always called me—”
“Jules,” Arlo interjected.
“Yeah! How- How did you know that it would be ‘Jules’ and not ‘Julie’?” She could not hide her surprise.
“Huh… I don't know. Just a guess. It really does suit you, though.” Arlo rubbed his chin with an amused and oddly pleased look on his face. Jules was confused by his reaction, but didn't ask.
Wanting to change the subject, yet hopeful to continue their conversation, Jules queried, “So… what do you do for a living?” She immediately cursed herself inwardly for going with such a generic question.
Arlo watched her kaleidoscope of facial expressions and laughed good-naturedly, “It's okay. I study atmospheric thermodynamics.”
“Okay. I can't even pretend I know what that is,” Jules laughed, “but can I guess what it has to do with?”
“Of course,” Arlo nodded, adjusting his glasses.
“Hmm… Meteorology? As in… weather prediction type stuff?” Jules playfully ventured.
“Not exactly. It's a branch of physics that studies the relationship between heat and energy— other things too, but I'm most fascinated in the transfer of energy that occurs in nature. So, today happens to be my favorite kind of day.” Almost on cue, thunder crackled and boomed, rattling the windows. Arlo grinned and continued, “You see, I track energy anomalies and there have been several strong, but sporadic readings in this area. I feel like I may have isolated a pattern, but it is too early to tell. I am here on vacation to hike, but also do research if the opportunity presents itself.”
They sat on the floor, facing one another. Arlo again leaned against his pack and Jules against hers. Despite their awkward start, they both now felt at ease. Without further prompting, Arlo began to explain thermodynamic theory to Jules. He was quite animated while describing his life's work.
Despite the fact Jules found Arlo to be highly intelligent and incredibly articulate, she understood very little of what he was telling her. However, what caught and held her attention was the manner in which Arlo spoke. Jules had never heard anything technical be expressed so eloquently and passionately. To her ear, his words sounded like scientific poetry— if such a thing existed. She felt like she could listen to him speak for hours.
She felt a hum growing between them as he spoke. It felt like a warm magnet, sensuously fluctuating and pulling at her center. Pulling her toward him in a most intimate manner.
Am I losing my mind, or is he feeling this too?
It was at this point that Jules became mesmerized by Arlo’s mouth. She became entranced by the way his lips moved; she couldn't help but stare. She eventually felt strangely jealous of each spoken word, each uttered syllable— if only she could be caressed by his tongue and lips like that…
Vivid images of his handsome face buried in her lap while both her hands grasped his hair came to her mind like a lightning strike. She blushed and looked away, but the image remained.
Okay, this is crazy. Stop, you perv.
But Jules did not stop. This time she welcomed the intrusive thoughts and embraced the resultant heat that flooded her body. Her mouth watered, her heart raced, and her breath rate increased. Her nipples hardened and eventually, the throbbing slickness between her thighs became impossible to ignore. She adjusted how she was sitting, but the unavoidable rubbing only made the ache worse.
The last few synapses in her brain that were not lust-infused attempted to reason with her:
Perhaps there is a scientific explanation. Is it somehow related to this storm? Would Arlo know? I mean, he is a scientist after all. But… what if this can't be explained?
And then suddenly, Jules didn't care anymore what the reason might be. She leaned toward him, the pull now too strong to resist. Outside, the storm intensified. Its insistence to be known was now in tandem with her need.
Arlo had stopped talking and looked deeply into her eyes. What she saw mirrored her own desire and fascination. It was obvious to Jules that he was indeed feeling the powerful attraction, too. He was as smitten as she and his arousal was as achingly present as hers. He could not hide it if he tried and he had no intention of doing such a thing. Heavy sheets of rain lashed at the window as they slowly leaned toward each other.
As lips parted and tongues met, the most spectacular sensation surged through them both. It was stronger and much more sensual than the zing from their earlier handshake. Whatever few reservations they were still holding to were now completely abandoned. They impatiently fumbled with and tore at one another's clothes with desperate hunger. They broke from kissing only when absolutely required.
Everywhere their bare skin touched, erotic electricity snapped and sizzled. Tendrils of supernatural longing raced and spiraled between and within them like currents. Their senses moved together as if they were celestial dance partners following ancient choreography only the two of them were ever destined to know.
Arlo's eager hands cradled Jules' bare cheeks and lifted her onto the countertop in one fluid movement. Her arms and legs reached to greedily encircle him as he moved toward her with animal intensity. The storm that ensued between the two rivaled the raw beauty of the summer storm raging around them.
The power that had been unleashed that day changed the landscape of all they thought they knew. As they continued to explore the principles of thermodynamics together, Arlo was confident he had at last located the source of the anomaly.
They learned everything that energy release between two humans was meant to be.
In theory, and in practice.
preface
In the world of YuGiOh, the line between strategy and sorcery has always been thin, a delicate balance maintained by the integrity of its duelists. Terrex J. Corbin once stood as a shining beacon of this balance, a champion who dominated the tournament scene with unmatched skill and unwavering honor. Seventeen times, he claimed victory, each trophy a testament to his dedication and love for the game.
But life has a way of shifting priorities. Family responsibilities and personal loss dimmed the fire that once burned brightly within Terrex. The cards were set aside, the trophies gathered dust, and the champion became a memory. The world of YuGiOh moved on without him, evolving and growing, while he retreated into a quieter life.
Now, whispers of a new darkness have reached Terrex’s ears. The tournament has returned, but it is not the same. A new champion, Onyx Redfield, reigns with a grip as cold as the shadows she commands. Daughter of the legendary Kaiba, Onyx has introduced a sinister element to the game, using underhanded tactics and dark magic to dominate her opponents. Her rise to power has left a trail of broken spirits and shattered dreams.
For Terrex, this is more than just a call to action; it’s a call to redemption. The game he once loved, the world he once ruled, needs him. As he dusts off his old deck and prepares to re-enter the arena, he knows the path will not be easy. The stakes are higher, the opponents stronger, and the champion darker than ever before.
"YuGiOh: Good Vs Evil" is not just a story of cards and battles. It is a story of a man rediscovering his passion, of courage in the face of overwhelming darkness, and of the enduring power of true integrity. This journey will test Terrex’s limits, challenge his beliefs, and ultimately, remind him why he fell in love with the game in the first place.
As you turn the pages, join Terrex on his quest to reclaim his legacy, restore justice, and illuminate the world of YuGiOh once more.
cutting the cord
i was born with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. blue and silent. (always). when doctors ask my mom when my anxiety began, she says it was in that moment. she swears my instinct is claustrophobia. i knew what dying felt like before i had the chance to cry. before i had a name or footprints on a page. i was born late and huge, an extra ten days and almost 9 pounds. i'm tall, much taller than my mom, almost eye-level with my dad, i'm out growing them. and yet, i'm still attached. i cried yesterday, started to panic because my mom left. i couldn't go with her to new orleans, i have to stay 'home'. i told her, 'it's funny how often you leave, considering you're the one who forced me to move down here, and now i'm the one who has to stay.' she said, 'you can leave, you don't have to stay.' but i need her. she's suffocating me here, but i need her.
Day 4
30 days writing challenge.
Title: Have mercy.
Prompt: Gashadokuro(prompt given by Heppie Leo)
#30dayswritingchallenge.
Day:4
Within the cryptic wilderness,
Dwells an enigmatic creature known for its dauntlessness,
Under the Illuminati lunar embrace,
It fetches its preys.
With it scythe, it slays.
"Have mercy, ye lord Gashadokuro," Its victims prays.
Coming out to play during a mysterious night.
Piercing sinister hearts with its eerie eyes.
It feeds on dread, nibbles on fright.
Once into the wilderness, ye shall never alight.
"HAVE MERCY, YE LORD GASHADOKURO,"
Have mercy.
©Heppie Leo
I love you. (how)
I love in the way the sun loved the moon…she chases him daily into the horizon until in eclipse they finally meet. Years may go by without recognition…I will love you.
I love you. (how)
I love in the way the sky loves the earth…she waters him with the tears he causes. Unrequited; undeserved. Flowers will bloom…even when you hurt me…I will love you.
I love you. (how)
I love in the way a hen loves her chicks…she fiercely guards them; their life is precious. Tenderness gives way to ferocity if threatened.
I will guard you…I will love you.
I love you. (how)
I love in the way a dog loves her master. She licks his face after he’s left her alone all day. Innocent trust, enthusiastic affection, adamant loyalty. Even if your heart forgets me…I will love you.
I love you. (how)
I love in the way a verb adds movement to a sentence. I love you as an action and state of being. I will help you and ground you. I will make sense of your world…I will love you.
Thirst
To be able to go back to the innocence and false sense of security and joy we all had as a child. To be able to love and trust without being hesitant. To not know the pains of the world... to LIVE...... How I hunger for that peace., for that rain storm to put out the forest fire in my soul.
Wolftown, Part Five
Wolftown’s wolf response was headquartered in Holy Trinity Lutheran Church and School’s gymnasium, ideal for muddy, wet people. The wolf responders stationed constantly in the gymnasium sandbagged the doorways between the locker rooms and the gymnasium. Expecting Wolftown’s water level to rise another two or three feet, volunteers prepared classrooms for flooded-out families. Somebody monitored the generator. The town plumber, Phil, and a church and school custodian, Gary, bailed out the boys’ locker room.
“What’s wrong with the sewer system?” Wayne asked.
Phil said, “Something blocked it all over town.”
“This didn’t happen last time we had this rainfall,” Gary said.
“I don’t think the sewers were inspected before the storm,” Phil said.
“They should have been,” Gary said.
Phil shrugged. “Try the restroom on the upper floors.”
“We’re muddy,” Wayne said.
“I spread plastic over the carpets,” Gary said.
Wayne changed his clothes and John hung up his foul-weather gear.
The responders napped in classrooms and ate in the combination fellowship hall and school cafeteria. Pastor Virgil Mickelson officiated optional, short church services.
In the gymnasium, Wayne and John sat at a folding table. John plugged his laptop into an extension cord plugged into another orange one, but, at least, Holy Trinity’s wall outlets had surge protectors.
“We don’t have internet access,” Wayne said.
“If you don’t use it, I won’t need to.”
“Why do you have it anyway?”
“Paula thinks computer technology will make conservation easier. I keep notes on floppy disks, write, copy files, and can’t do much more.”
“What about Y2K?”
“Thankfully, she didn’t need to reimburse anyone for wasting $2,000.”
Wayne shuffled through notes and papers left at his folding table seat. “The kid was a missing person.”
“Oh, no,” John said.
“No one said he was when the police asked us to identify him.” Wayne sighed.
“I forgot about the beaver trapper, but I bet he was one of the missing persons Mayor Dwyer mentioned. Search-and-rescue declared him presumed dead today.”
“Condolences,” John said.
“We kept an eye out for him while looking for the wolf.”
“Did a wolf attack him?”
“No idea. I don’t know if we will know because of the flood. The first rabies tests came back negative,” Wayne said.
“Good.” John inserted a floppy disk.
“Here’s a note from Schuster: ‘Megan photographed Zach’s wolf bites, wrote down the measurements, and made a few copies. She said to call if you had questions. Megan can say what she wants. I’m working on Barbara Luben’s evidence. You are authorized to view evidence of Zach and Mrs. Luben’s attacks. I’ll try to bring them to you but can’t guarantee it.’”
“Do you want to look at fatal injures? It’s hard.”
“And harder if you know the people or live in the same town. I need to.”
“Do you want me to start with the hiker or the official first victim?”
“The hiker if it is chronological. I can take notes out-of-order, but I have to put it in order sometime.”
“I know I said I could tell you about the hikers, but I forgot about the police,” Wayne said. “They haven’t found Sergio Vasquez’s body yet, and Miranda Vasquez’s story is a little difficult to understand.”
As one of the most informed people involved in the wolf response, Wayne considered classifying the wolf situation pointless at best and, at worst, prevented an adequate response. He released any data somebody requested; it possibly provoked Mayor Dwyer’s restriction of out-of-town journalism and non-communication with local media.
Wayne suggested the most useful people to contact. Via Sharon Smith, Mayor Dwyer’s secretary, Wayne pestered the mayor for permission to answer the questions or to contact another person. Within half an hour, Mayor Dwyer allowed Wayne to explain details he considered pertinent—except about the wolf which attacked Miranda and Sergio Vasquez. The police continued to investigate Sergio Vasquez’s death. Mayor Dwyer permitted details about how they encountered the wolf, how it attacked, and how it stopped. To John’s surprise, Wayne agreed without argument.
John typed notes and listed evidence to copy.
While Sergio and Miranda Vasquez honeymooned in the woods near Wolftown. On March 6 and 7, they briefly met Peter, a stranger. He warned them about wolves in the area and suggested camping a couple of miles west. However, they stayed at their campsite. They built a fire and bear-proofed their food, which coincidentally deterred wolves.
In the middle of the night, Miranda left the tent to relieve herself. She zipped up the tent, but the hikers woke to a lone wolf inside the tent.
John said, “Sometimes the zipper doesn’t catch the other side of the fabric, but it sounds like it zipped.”
“I asked her. I haven’t had time to find out if a wolf can tear through a tent, but I told her I would,” Wayne said.
Sergio fought the wolf and slashed an escape hole for Miranda. She brandished a burning branch, which ignited the tent. Somehow, Sergio and the wolf struggled out of the tent, as Sergio yelled for Miranda to climb a tree.
Miranda tugged singed, bleeding Sergio from the tent, while the smoldering wolf rolled on the ground. The wolf retreated slightly, giving Sergio time to boost Miranda into a sugar maple tree. She hauled him up, but the wolf dragged him down. While Sergio stopped screaming, the wolf bit Miranda’s leg. The wolf’s teeth shredded her left leg, but Miranda tugged her leg out of the wolf’s mouth.
“How?” John asked.
“Adrenaline,” Wayne said. “But I’m surprised her the bone didn’t break, and he didn’t bite an artery or a vein.”
Wayne continued the chronological order, moving to the wolves entering Wolftown on March 8. Each wolf entered Wolftown on a different side of town by 2:00 PM, March 8. People treated them as a curiosity because sometimes wild animals passed the city limits.
Later, Wayne named the wolves Abel, Barker, and Charlie, although he initially thought Barker and Charlie were the same. Wayne said, “Abel looks like an overweight male, Barker is underweight, and Charlie is average. I don’t know Barker and Charlie’s sexes, but if the wolves are a pack, they are probably females. The wolves are about the same size, but people said Abel was big. Locals have a better idea of a wolf’s size than tourists have, but a wolf looks bigger in real life.”
“Probably more when you think it’s dangerous,” John said.
“And he was fat, and people called him fat.”
“He is.”
“At first, I thought the wolf was pregnant, but he is a male. I think he is bigger than Barker, but not unusually big.”
Around 3:00, Abel loped down Main Street into Holy Trinity Church and School’s playground. Barking and growling, he trotted, then cantered, then galloped. Kids scattered, and adults hustled children indoors, into cars, on top of the jungle gym, or down the street. Witnesses said fleeing felt like a natural response and thought the wolf could not chase everybody at once.
Playing hopscotch, Mallory Vaughn stood on one leg. Abel knocked her down; his paw left a smudged print on her pink jacket. Her older brother, Raymond, swung his stuffed backpack at Abel. He scooped up winded Mallory and dashed to the nurse’s office. On the way to the nurse’s office, Mallory accused Raymond of shoving her, even though Raymond babysat her. She merely skinned her knees, palms, and chin, and bumped her nose.
The wolf galloped out of the playground under a barrage of textbooks, lunch boxes, a ball, a copy of An Explanation of the Small Catechism, and a Furby. The playground monitor, Cindy Brown, slammed the gate shut and locked it.
As Abel wove through traffic, Maurice Williams nearly crashed into him; days later, he told Wayne he wished he totaled his car and killed Abel. The wolf caused erratic driving and two minor accidents. School-hour traffic and pulling over for the police cars complicated matters.
The wolf bounded through the grounds of the Sun ‘n’ Rain Childcare Center and the Giggling Forward Preschool. He circled the blocks and bounded again. Steve Taylor considered shooting the wolf, but the children were too close.
Throughout the town, people called 911 or Happy Howlers to report sightings. The wolves often left before anybody arrived—everybody focused on the schoolchildren. But the number of calls and the locations indicated two or three wolves roamed Wolftown.
Chief of Police Dennis Laufenberg was out of town. Until he arrived, Deputy Chief of Police Kurt Phelps oversaw the police’s response. He told officers to carry tranquilizers and fire a gun as a last resort.
Because a wolf could easily jump Holy Trinity, the daycare, or the preschools’ fences, Wayne recommended that the staff keep children indoors until their parents arrived. To his relief, quite a few adults and children came to the same conclusion. The staff and parents arranged impromptu carpools and pickups. Officer Jones watched for wolves and staff or parents walked the children to the cars.
Police officers patrolled for unaccompanied walking children and drove them home, and they offered rides to accompanied children. Officer Matthews escorted the school bus and officers or parents walked children to their doors.
Around 4:30 PM, one wolf disappeared, probably into the woods, while two others continued prowling Wolftown. Wayne still wondered which wolf fled and which wolf remained.
Raymond and the adults’ reactions scared Mallory more than a wolf running her over. Just as a precaution, Dr. Groves ordered a rabies vaccine. Wayne examined Mallory’s jacket and collected wolf hairs from Raymond’s backpack.
The police unjammed traffic, despite Barker’s presence.
While Abel wreaked havoc, black-and-white security footage tracked Barker and Charlie, either of whom could have also chased the school bus. The wolf walked and loped, stopping to howl or bark. If somebody tried chasing him away, he cantered or galloped. He loitered around Main Street, but neither entered the school grounds nor threatened the parking lot. Wayne supposed the cars scared him.
Calvin, a Happy Howlers’ employee, tracked down Barker or Charlie at approximately 5:00. The wolf saw the car, turned around, and hid in a residential area. Suzanne backed up Calvin, and they almost cornered him. He jumped a fence at 6:00, but they tranquilized him. He headed for the woods and the Happy Howlers employees followed on foot at 6:10, plenty of time for the wolf to pass out. Neither wanted to chase the wolf on foot or search thoroughly for a trail, so they gave up a couple of minutes later. The wolf escaped. Wayne defended Calvin and Suzanne’s decision.
Around 6:30 PM, a wolf mauled Jill Vogel’s off-leash dachshund-Yorkie-miscellaneous mix. The wolf picked up Button and bolted out of the park. Button’s death eventually indicated Charlie existed.
Sightings halted after the attack.
The Happy Howlers administrative assistant, Rebecca Austin, sent information to the local media, which reported the wolf sightings for the evening news or morning paper. Other people heard rumors or they told their friends.
Happy Howlers intended to tranquilize the wolves and ask Dr. Jodi Richardson to examine them. If she declared the wolves healthy, Happy Howlers would tag, vaccinate, and release them. Employees nursed ill or dying wolves, except for rabid ones.
John disagreed with euthanizing animals for any reason but understood the reasons behind killing a rabid animal. Paula and the Nature Protection Society thought rabies and other diseases justified euthanasia. Because of that and Wolftown’s sensitive situation, he felt uncomfortable mentioning his opinion. He thought Wayne guessed, but they did not discuss it.
Wolftown’s nightlife consisted of McDonald's, the Old Wolftown Restaurant, and the Wunderbar, but they were quieter than normal.
“What’s the Wunder Bar?” John asked.
“It’s the only bar in town. One word, W-U-N-D-E-R-B-A-R.”
“Thanks.”
Mayor Dwyer made town officials, his family, and close friends to eat out, buy gas at the BP Gas Station, and play in the park.
“I told him it was a stupid decision,” Wayne said.
“Did something happen to him?” John asked.
“No, but it’s like living in Jaws! Would you have gone outside?”
“I’m a homebody.”
“And you already got into a wolf situation.”
“I had an escape route.”
Wayne sighed.
“You do it,” John said.
“I’m armed and keeping an eye out for the wolf. I don’t want to kill the wolf, but I want to survive.”
Seven businesses and the police station had security cameras. Four businesses had taped over their footage before police requested copies, and two showed barely any wolf. The police refused to turn over their videotaped footage but copied the low-quality time-lapse tapes. Wayne borrowed the school’s TV and paused the footage when necessary.
The security footage showed the wolf returned to downtown Wolftown at approximately 8:30 PM.
A couple of anonymous teenagers snuck out of their houses to buy junk food at the BP Gas Station and eat it in Sugar Maple Park. They noticed wolf tracks in the playground sand. Button died on the opposite side of the park, so Wayne suspected they found the first overnight tracks. The teenagers looked for the wolves because wolves would deter tourism, which their families depended on.
Schuster spotted their flashlights. He told them that Laufenberg ordered the police to send children and teenagers home, regardless of their parents’ usual rules, if the children walked or rode bikes alone after dark. Apparently, the teenagers had sneaked out. They could either go to the police station and give a statement about the wolf or go home without any mention of the wolf. The wolf howled behind the teenagers, too close. Schuster hustled them into the car, but the teenagers went voluntarily.
“I bet the parents found out anyway,” Wayne said.
“I won’t identify them,” John said.
(Part Five coming on August 9 or 16, 2024.)
Mere Moments
Maybe in a different lifetime
In a different timeline
Just maybe we
Would meet in different circumstances
Where the end begins in echoes
Where your world is me
And your world is me....
Now...
It's just moments and it seconds it all disappears
Dissipates into space and time
Never meant to be more
Than just mere moments
CONSTELLATIONS
I never thought
I would find
Love in your big brown eyes
Comfort in your touch
Strength in your words
Laughter in your jokes
I wonder if meeting you was
Inevitable
There is honor in the way you wear
Your pain
I see you
Beyond your flesh
Under all the hardy exterior
I see you
And boy you are the embodiment of
Just magnificent
Every scar every mole
Perfectly placed
Like stars aligned
Forming constellations
An Artist In Love
You write about them in your words
You recite them in deep poetry
You draw them in your world
In your lines and curves
They live in every brush stroke
Every dark shade representing
The endless dark days
The bright colors of burning ambers
Representing the blissful moments
What a beautiful life it was
Long drives and peaceful nights
My hands tracing your every outline
Me consumed by everything you
A blissful life that once was
Is now framed in antique wood
Living in the halls of dusty museum
That's only graced upon
Once in a blue moon.