Stacy Archives

June 28, 2005

Stacy: Traveler

"Veered?" he shouted. "What the hell does that mean?"

He paced angrily, unable to comprehend how his calculations could have gone wrong, how he could have come so apparently far afield. He worked the equations for months, had access to the university mainframe, was so sure everything was correct. Yet, here he was…LOST.

Melena watched his rant silently. "Foolish mortal," she thought sadly, hands busy with the bread dough.

He finally sat down, looked at her with dull eyes. "You don't happen to have a Cray stashed somewhere in this dump, do you?"

Her laughter pealed through the still night.

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June 29, 2005

Stacy: Labor Train

One, two, three...

He always counted the train cars as they went by. She never understood why, stared out the window, waiting for it to pass.

...thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...

She leaned her head against the cool glass, tried to slow her breathing.

...nineteen, twenty, twenty-one...

She gripped the armrest so hard her knuckles turned white, nails digging into the leather, fingers cramping.

…thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four…

She screamed as the pain ripped through her in earnest now, and a gush of water hit the floor between her feet.

“Honey, I see the caboose! We’re almost to the hospital, just hang on!”

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June 30, 2005

Stacy: Invasive Schminvasive

He hefted the machete, whacked experimentally at some foliage, then, confident of his swing, began chopping in earnest. The pungent fragrance of the cut leaves filled the air around them, making their eyes sting and water.

She followed gingerly behind him, careful to avoid the cut ends and the oozing sap, which could raise blisters on unprotected skin.

He cut a few more feet and they were through, into sudden sunlight. They collapsed on a bench, sweaty and tired, leaves stuck to various spots.

He glared at her, “You’re the one who wanted to plant peppermint in the back yard.”

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July 1, 2005

Stacy: Last Exit

She knew that morning, when she saw her toothbrush turned backwards next to the sink, that he meant to kill her. Things had been getting bad for some time now, but she thought she, of all people, was safe from his cleaner.

She gunned the engine on the BMW, pushing it faster than was safe on the wet roads. Snow was forecast for tonight, she sincerely hoped it held off until she reached Albany.

The state trooper surveyed the wreck of her car the next morning, noting the Jersey plates, and radioed the paramedics to bring their tweezers. Fuckin’ tourists.

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July 5, 2005

Stacy: Warrior

Sin. Some people avoid it. I search it out.

Not to partake. Oh no. But rather to avenge.

Again and again my bright sword arcs, blood spatters, the guilty die.

Again and again.

I have seen all the horrors of which the human race is capable. They replay themselves in my mind at night, when sleep avoids me like they would. Like they should.

If they knew my name.

My sword has taken millions of lives. People will continue to sin, continue to commit terrible crimes. And my sword will take more lives.

How I wish it could take mine.

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July 6, 2005

Stacy: Alt. Mythos

Moses paced restlessly along the wadi. The past year had been hard. They’d lost many sheep to the bandits, and nothing would grow in this benighted country. He believed they needed to move if they were to survive.

He was roused from his thoughts by the smell of smoke, and ran to investigate. In this dry land, fire could be devastating.

He came around an outcrop and beheld a wondrous thing…a bush was aflame, yet not burning. Abdul rushed up behind him, doused it with a bucket of water.

“Damn, that was close! That could have burned the whole village!”

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July 8, 2005

Stacy: Targeted Market

Jenkins, CEO of Big Money Records, led his small audience through the clean room. “This is where the magic happens, people."

He indicated the rows of cubicles, containing hundreds of teenagers wearing headphones, some writing down notes, some just listening.

"We have the most advanced pre-market testing facility in the world. We hire these kids to come in, listen to pre-release music, give us the edge on our competition.”

He looked at around, “So, gentlemen, what kind of pre-market technology do you use?”

The CEO of Baby Baby Baby Records looked down and scuffed his shoe against the floor uncomfortably.

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July 10, 2005

Stacy: Das Toad

The Boot Toad of central Florida is a rarely seen creature. It prefers small, dank places, and thus naturally gravitates to the footwear left outdoors by unwary homeowners. Snuggling down into the toe area, it weathers the heat of Florida days, venturing out at night to feed on insect life.

Sporting a poisonous spike on the back of it's head, the Boot Toad has stricken down more than one individual as they attempted to shoe themselves. Florida homeowners are encouraged to cease leaving their footwear outdoors, or at least, turn them upside down to discourage inhabitance by this venomous creature.

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July 11, 2005

Stacy: That's What You Get

The knife blade inched towards her eye, and she gripped his arm harder, struggling to maintain the lock. Suddenly she let go of his arm, and in one swift motion, jammed her thumb deep into his eye.

He rolled off her, screaming, the knife lost. She scrambled to her feet, walked over to the writhing man, and precisely kicked in his left temple with her heel.

Thanks to Señor Violador, her dress was beyond salvage. She stripped off his shirt, disdained the now-stained trousers, and collected his weapons and valuables. They might fetch a decent price in the next village.

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July 12, 2005

Stacy: Doin' Time

We walk around the yard aimlessly, nowhere to go, no place to be. The guards flick their stinger whips at stragglers, keep the herd moving.

Talking is allowed, but most of us have nothing to say. Had it whipped out of us over the years. Newbie up front is a chatterbox. That'll change soon enough.

"You know, I've played the violin all my life," I overheard him say. "I think the thing I miss most, even more than food, is my music."

I laugh to myself. Old man hasn't even been here for a week. He don't know hungry yet.

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