The One Star (re)View
Do not be afraid
Of any review made
To Sound like it's bad
Even malicious a tad
Not everyone is clear
Of prejudice, of fear
And envy for what you write;
They review out of spite
Maybe the weather was crap
Or they had had a bad rap
And wanted just to vent
As their day was spent.
For me, such reviews are fine
That one star? it's all mine.
It warms me too, all said and done
Like the one star, our glorious Sun.
The Gift
Note: I mostly write, or hope to write, sci-fi or plain-old humour. However, as a challenge, I wrote a fantasy flash-fiction based on an image prompt. I hope this fits in with the brief of this challenge!
---
The tribe would never be the same again.
Kagura fell back from the crowd that watched Lephiane emerge from the top of the mountain. The strange plume that billowed from the sack behind her had stunned her. Not long ago, the two witch sisters had had one of their arguments when Lephiane was venturing across the Barren Rift.
“Lephy, please don’t go!”, she had pleaded.
“Sister, you know we are the chosen ones of the tribe”, Lephiane had argued, “We must venture for the tribe’s survival. They say the land of the Infinite People has a magical gift that has helped them survive for eons and eons.”
“But … but we have everything we need, don’t we? What’s more, we can now conjure up new things for the tribe. Things they never knew existed!”
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t change the fact that we are all dying. Fast!”
“I am working on it …”, Kagura had been hurt.
Lephiane had then held her sister close and comforted her.
“I know. I know. You are smart, brave and skillful. I am sure you will soon be able to save the tribe from extinction; one way or another. But my destiny lies in seeking wonders that exist across the lands, the waters and the mountains.”
“When will you leave?”
Lephiane had smiled as she wiped Kagura’s tears with her sash. “At the first sign of dew tomorrow. You can send me away with your new creation that always brings us home.”
“The Pathfinder!”, Kagura had exclaimed.
Now, as she watched Lephiane making her way back slowly, she was filled with dread about the new dangers that would follow. What if the Infinite People were not friendly and the tribe faced an onslaught like the last time when the long night had come? Hadn’t they been happy for so many ages just being black or white?
The land was white and people were black. It worked very well. The Radiant One in the sky never burned them with her wrath. They saw her walking by, watching over them serenely, where the lands, the waters and the mountains met the sky. There were no shadows to scare the little ones. There were no harsh bright surprises either.
The soft cushions that covered most of the sky were white too. Occasionally they cried along with the tribe. Often when someone went back to The Invisible One. The lament lasted weeks sometimes. They just buried themselves deeper until the crying stopped. It also gave them a chance, in a way, to get closer to those who were gone.
Lephiane was clearly visible now. Kagura retreated a step as if not wanting to meet her sister, not wanting to accept that she was back – and what gift she bore this time. She was happy with the way things were. Simple is always better. Two is better than many.
“I love this black and white world of ours!”, she almost said aloud.
The rising plume of smoke was growing in size and Kagura’s heartbeat sped up. What was about the smoke that she could not fathom? It was neither black nor white. She had never seen that shade before. She wondered if her sister had turned evil from a sorcerer’s spell. She began chanting her secret hymn to face the imminent danger.
All around her, the tribe watched Lephiane. Each of her sisters stood motionless, like they always did to receive travellers. It was a show of strength. No weapons, no spells. Just silence and a resolve to stand their ground. Then, it happened.
A faint restlessness rippled through the watching sisters. A step here, a twitch there. Soon, they were all retreating, slowly but surely. This had never happened before, thought Kagura. Lephiane was already bringing fear with her. The tribe that had lived without distress, doubt or phobia of any kind were moved. She prepared for the inevitable and made her decision.
---
“Kagura! Kagura! My dear sister!”, Lephiane broke into a run and then stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong, sis? Why is everyone retreating?”
“It’s the … the smoke!”, stammered Kagura.
“Oh this? No, don’t be afraid, dear sisters”, assured Lephiane, “This gift will free us from eternal perish. It will provide us with the magical powers to live forever!”
“How?”, demanded Kagura, “All we have ever got from these gifts is destruction and pain.”
“I will teach you how to use it! I have met wizards all over the land of the Infinite People. I know why they are called the Infinite People!”
Kagura frowned but did not retreat any further. Lephiane was now within a few hands from her. Kagura mustered up her courage and met her sister. As they held hands, as she felt her sister’s fingers curl around her palm, Kagura felt something she hadn’t ever before. It was as if she was slowly thawing.
“What’s happening to me, Lephy?”, she asked.
“This is the gift I bring”, smiled Lephiane, “We will never pass away cold and frozen.
We can survive the long white days and nights. The Infinite People keep this gift everywhere. Their homes, pathways, mountains. They even carry it with them over water. Their nights are not black anymore. They can keep away all creatures with this gift. That is how they have survived for many many eons.”
“How does the gift help them do that?”, demanded Kagura, not convinced.
“It keeps them less frozen, or warm, as they say. They offered it to me when receiving me. A warm welcome, they exclaimed. I was as fearful as I sense you are now, sister. Then, I began enjoying the fruits of this gifts, and there are countless! Do you know that we can keep this gift going forever? You can share it and it grows. Oh Kagura! We can finally see in the black nights. We can drive all the demons away that frighten the little ones of the tribe!”
“Does this … this gift have a name?”
“Fire!”, said Lephiane and Kagura knew:
The tribe would never be the same again.
Zoom and gloom
I wonder as I scan the caged faces on Zoom
Is it, perhaps, the Stockholm syndrome?
All around the smiles, all ready to bloom
Hiding the uncomfortable, the humdrum.
Are we really "super excited" for everything?
Are the no regrets, and ways forward just for PC?
What did happen to our true and honest being?
Questions, I have questions, don't you see?
I am sure there's pain, and there's some sorrow
In each of our lives that needs to be seen
And heard, not always put on mute for tomorrow;
The camera turned off, hiding how I've truly been.
For when we ask "how are you", we don't want to know
For real, and if they did tell, would we even care?
So, all we do is let our best backgrounds glow
Blur them a bit and touch up some more; seems fair.
Just a nobody
I look around the room, and I wonder
If everybody here is somebody, somebody
Like a whimper unheard amidst a roaring thunder
I feel I'm a stranger, an absolute nobody.
Just a tiny me is all I ever embody
I feel I'm a stranger, an absolute nobody.
I've worked the days and lived the night
Of this rich, famous, brave new world
Where they ignore me with all their might
But it's not for me. I'm small and unfurled;
A dying, withering bud left to its own folly
Just a tiny me is all I ever embody
I feel I'm a stranger, an absolute nobody.
The Proof
"What's in a name?" I asked Sagar, the most mischievous student in my class. He had an annoying habit of doing everything but pay attention to the topic at hand,
After a brief pause, he stood up to amused murmurs:
"Shakespeare, Sir!"
"What's in a name?" I quipped triumphantly and the class exploded.
Sagar sat down with an embarrassed smirk.
Just for the record. I teach Mathematics, not Literature or Philosophy. Purist may argue abstract math comes close to the latter. Also, for the record, Sagar had interrupted me by complaining:
"Sir, yesterday you had used x as the variable but today you use y! Why?"
This had prompted my witty reaction.
Another ten minutes or so and I had just about finished finding the limit of a function where x < 0, followed by a neat line of chalk drawn down the middle of the blackboard. The portion on the right said "otherwise" at the top, followed by another set of steps calculating the limit when x >= 0.
I had barely turned around when Sagar, as was his wont, asked:
"Sir, I don't understand the otherwise part-"
I had fair bit to cover in the balance 15 minutes so I interrupted him and said:
"It's really simple Sagar! I'm wise and you're otherwise." and regretted it as soon as I finished even as the rest of the class enjoyed this banter.
Sagar remained standing, arms crossed. I ignored him and continued with the lecture.
At the end of the period, I reminded my wards of an assignment, due early next week.
"I know the concepts may be tough," I saged, "But remember: Nothing is Impossible!"
I then began gathering my books and bag when Sagar called out:
"Hold on, Sir! I believe nothing is possible."
Intrigued, I stopped and faced him:
"Okay. You're in a math class. Can you prove it?"
"Sure," he replied with a wide grin, "I've attended each of your lectures diligently this year but trust me, Sir, I learnt nothing!"
An Inconsequential Odist
Not a poet, I make a few words rhyme.
For ballads, elegies, and sonnets take a long time.
In this short life, lasting but a few moments,
Is there one that we can call our prime?
Like the bards ago who thrilled, ne'er did last.
Dwelt a season of hope, or despair, and passed.
Their lives, a flit, like the blink of an eye:
Years and years that fly by, just too fast!
So will my verse, in the ether, disappear
Ones I cherish today, ones I hold so dear.
Yet, there'll be many who come along tomorrow
Daydream rhymes of joy, of love, and sorrow
They will surpass anything I could every say
Have far better readers than you, who follow.
So why would anyone care about what I write
Nay, why should they hold my view or insight.
Not a poet, I make a few words rhyme
For ballads, elegies, and sonnets take a long time
In this short life, lasting but a few moments
Is there one that we can call our prime?
A Grain of Salt
Alice counted them, the Chlorine electrons:
"But now you total up from seven to eight!"
"Yes", they shouted harmoniously, all at once
"We're in partnership with Sodium Syndicate!"
"Together, we are Sodium Chloride
You may call us the Salt of the Earth!"
"Seven of us bond with Sodium's one
and our valence shell shall have no dearth."
"Sounds very cooperative", smiled Alice,
"But I wonder which one of you is from Sodium?"
"I am, I am", then "He's the one, he's the one"
Came eight loud responses, in unison.
"How rude, they always speak at once, and
They all do have the same name too"
So Alice thought it was pointless, really,
Guessing among electrons, who was who!
"Could you explain," she couldn't help asking
"How come the charge on Sodium is now positive?"
"When even if it lost one electron,
"Surely the others still make it negative?"
"All the negativity of the electrons put together
Is kept in check by the atom's nucleus."
"An electron, if lost, makes it a positive ion
And, if gained, is negative just like us!"
"You seem quite upbeat to me", said Alice
But what, or who is this Nucleus you mention?"
Nervously they looked around and whispered:
"Don't speak of it now, but every atom has one!"
"The positive charge in the nucleus
Keeps us negative electrons in balance"
"It pulls us in but we are too agile
And so goes on this atomic dance!"
"This molecular tango is quite impressive,
I guess I exist and that's all its fault!"
"For now," she concluded, "my head's spinning
So I'll take all of this with a grain of salt!"
The Breach
There is no musical chime, or a shattering crescendo, for that matter. Hollywood has killed reality with its ridiculous sound effects.
I have found the courage to step through, I prefer "transcendent", the very retro-looking portal and it happens rather silently. I'm feeling like Alice stepping through the looking glass. Except, I am not as relaxed, as curious, and far from being as pretty.
The bright dashboard of my helmet is complaining:
[Oxygen: 0.2%]
[Estimated time remaining: 5 minutes 0 seconds]
Conclusion: You're fucked!
The conclusion is mine. WWSA does not add profanity to their dashboards.
I am sure my oxygen supply is supposed to last at least a couple of hours more but who am I to argue with the dashboard? Besides, one can't trust the quality, or accuracy, of anything these days, can one?
On the brighter side, I still have 4 minutes and 52 seconds left!
- - -
"Gentlemen!", the commander's booming voice declares, "We are explorers. We have always been. When the caveman first walked away from the cave in search of food, we became explorers."
Why do commanders always have a booming voice? Perhaps it's a tautology. The room is quiet but I can feel imperceptible nods and stifled groans. The atmosphere is more like "Get on with it ... Sir!"
Atmosphere. Something the cocoon we are floating in has none, on the outside at least. Technically, we are not floating but falling towards Saturn under its force of gravity but since the orbit is large, we never actually hit the planet, thankfully. This "cocoon" has been the culmination of a two-decade-long project. The "Aether", as its called, is named after the Greek god of everything from the atmosphere to space and heaven. We Nauts just call it the fucking-long-way-from-home launchpad. Perks of being in orbit around Saturn are the views! The rings are spectacular, for instance, unlike anything on Earth. Literally. I wonder how rich our poetry back on Earth would be if we had rings around it!
For the better part of an hour, the commander outlines the next mission. Nothing too fancy, he reckons, or dangerous. He picks a rookie Naut for the job.
"Naut-O-Five-Nine", he orders, "your prelim starts in an hour"
"Yes, Sir!", I straighten up and reply, loud and clear. It's almost like I knew he'd call out my name.
My mate, Naut-O-Four-Eight smiles a broad one at me with two thumbs up.
- - -
[4 minutes and 31 seconds.]
I must stop reading the dashboard and concentrate on keeping myself alive. I seem to be in the thick of a forest, not unlike the one from the chase scene in Return of the Jedi. The trees in this "forest" are charred beyond recognition.
At least I don't have those "things" chasing me anymore. They couldn't get through the portal, thankfully. Far worse than The Empire, they wrecked my vehicle within minutes. I had time to run but running with the Nautsuit is no fun.
My pursuers are hard to describe. Maybe another time. If I survive. I only wonder why they attacked the vehicle and not me. Until I ran that is.
Just to be safe, I check the location of my portal, the "looking glass". Clever name, no? Since we opened space exploration to geeky private companies, its kind of cute how they name things.
Ok mate, concentrate.
The looking glass, or the Spacetime Transition Doorway or STD (No, don't!), is intact.
I'm hoping this moon has a human-breathable atmosphere. Yes, I know I should've paid more attention during the prelim about the moon's geography and biology. The portal, however, has led me to a different spacetime. So, who knows.
I unclip the geo-scanning drone to release it. It ascends quickly among the treetops and should analyze the "air" in a minute or so.
For me, that's quarter of my remaining life!
----------------
Title: The Breach
Genre: Sci-Fi
Age Range: 55-60
Word Count: ~10,000 (WIP)
Author: K. P. S. Plaha
Why I believe it's good: Fresh voice and a sci-fi tale of spacetime travel.
Hook: When an astronaut is sent to explore an alien world devoid of atmosphere, he must fight a breach of not just in time, but of trust in his closest relationships. All he has at his disposal is a portal called the "Looking Glass".
Synopsis: Two astronauts. Best buddies. Together on a mission halfway across the Solar System. One wears his heart on his sleeve while the other is a wisecracking genius. Also in the mix is a female astronaut who also happens to be a trainer. Their lives entangle in a dangerous curl of time itself which threatens to tighten a noose around them. Who or what is the breach?
Audience: Readers of sci-fi, humour, YA (perhaps)
Bio: Kanwar assumed he could write the day his essay in Grade 7 won the top spot at school. Since then, he has been writing whenever life permits. A husband and a dad, he also dabbles in other creatives such ass photography and painting. He taps the keyboard and pushes the mouse as his day job.
Education: Bachelor of Science - Physics
Experience: Non-creative pursuits: 15+ years. Creative pursuits: Since childhood. I have been on the set of a Bollywood movie, worked at a VFX company. I also have a section of this story written in script format.
Writing Style: Fast-paced, humourous, unconventional.
Likes/Hobbies: Several creative types
Hometown: Sydney, Australia