“Planet earth is blue and there's nothing I can do,” Dr. Vincent Laurent sung to himself as he pulled up the patient's chart on his tablet again.She was lying in the bed, looking paler than usual. “So what's the diagnosis, doc?”
“The diagnosis is the same, Tanya. The tests just confirm what I already know.” Vincent took a deep breath. “We don't have the expertise or the equipment to treat you here, like I've said before. I thought maybe we'd missed something but it's definitely -”"Doctor?” she interrupted. “My name's not Tanya.”
Vincent jerked as if he'd been lightly shocked. “I'm so sorry,” he stammered. “Of course, Kristi.”Kristi shook her head, smiling. She reached out and touched his arm. “It's fine! I don't blame you. Honest. You and all the staff here have been nothing but kind and helpful.”
Vincent didn't meet Kristi in the eye. “I appreciate that.” He sighed. “My colleague and his team of specialists are stationed on Bram V. Or should I say trapped.”“Bram V? Isn't that the moon that's being blockaded by the Zalbonians?”
“Unfortunately.” Vincent's wrist beeped a reminder. “I'm off to speak with the medical director to see about transporting you through the blockade.”“Thank you!” Kristi said. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she spoke to his back.
Vincent paused a moment to consider how strange it was for a patient to be encouraging her doctor before continuing to walk down the hallway.
“It's too dangerous for civilians to be trying to breaking through this barricade,” Director Pontelli said through videochat. “The military is focusing their firepower elsewhere to try to gain the upper hand.”“Then what do you suggest I do, sir?” Vincent said, placing his hand on his forehead in exasperation. “I've already told you that we can't treat her here. We just don't have the resources or skilled doctors.”
Director Pontelli looked as exhausted as Vincent felt. “I agree with you, Dr. Laurent,” he said. “These are extenuating circumstances, but there's always so much red tape with war and aid. The government is barely able to drop resources and supplies down there for our people without the Zalbonians counter-firing or taking it for themselves.”“I know a pilot who'd be willing to help,” Vincent offered. “He's not associated with the military, but I know he's fought a good many pirates in his day.”
“Hmm,” Pontelli said. “Send me his contacts. I'm sure the military would be willing to help him – covertly, of course. I'll do as much as I can.” The director steepled his hands. “By the way, how is your wife? It's been a while since we've talked.”Vincent's face paled. “She died last month,” he said flatly. “She caught the Ronno virus. There was nothing they could do.”
Pontelli's jaw dropped. “I didn't know, my god,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”“No, sir. I'll send you the information on my friend and we'll keep in touch,” Vincent said, closing the video to prevent himself from breaking down over the camera.
He couldn't think about his wife right now – not as long as there were lives to be saved.
There were never a shortage of those, Vincent found.
A few days later, the physician assistants were preparing to transport Kristi for transport on Lance's ship. “Thanks for your help,” Vincent told Lance.
Lance threw his hands in the air. “Hey, those Zalbonians don't have anything on me and my ship. We'll be fine,” he reassured Vincent.
Vincent couldn't help but smile. “You're crazy, but I trust you.”
“You should!” Lance exclaimed.
“Could I have a moment alone with Kristi before you cart her off?”
Lance consented; he and the PAs left the room."I wanted to apologize for calling you Tanya last week," Vincent said. "That was my wife's name. You look just like her."
Forget to RememberIt wasn’t so much he’d forgotten as it was he could not remember.
The way the clouds looked after it rained and how many shades flowers wore in spring.
The scent of fresh baked bread and how it crumbled on his tongue.
River smoothed stones under his fingertips.
The sound of his own laughter.
Being human was a difficult thing to forget; the trouble was remembering how to be one.
FFM Day 26: Parking Wars"Oh, drat," said Kira under her breath.
The front door was open in the summer heat, and she had the perfect view of someone painstakingly trying to parallel park into her spot.
"This, Joe, is why I never let you use the car." Kira spoke to the air, and could only glare as the car pulled out for a better angle.
A cat sauntered onto the asphalt, its gray and white spots bright against the black. It yawned mightily and sat down directly in the car's path.
The brake lights flashed red for a long moment. There was a timid honk, then a slow reversal. Finally, a much longer horn sounded, at which the cat lay down and flicked an ear.
Kira watched the car jolt off, presumable to the ample parking at the bottom of the hill.
"Nice save," she told the cat.
"I want tuna," it said, without batting an eye.
Kira rolled her eyes. Cats.
FFM Day 28: Reign of CrimeJack ran.
He ran a lot in his line of work. As a detective, it was rather prudent to be timely, and in a small sleepy town, it was a challenge to get anywhere quickly.
That and the rain. It threatened to wash away evidence before he even saw, making running even more frequent.
He skidded to a stop, next to a one way street, deserted in the late night flood of rain. The streetlights illuminated a slow trickle of red into the gutter.
Melinda walked up behind him, umbrella in hand.
"Know the guy?"
"Who doesn't?" Jack said. "Did his last deal, I guess."
Melinda's smile was feral. "Time to track down his clients. Again. This time we'll get him."
They got lucky. Bones, a fixture of shady street corners, who blew smoke and who knows what else into passerby's faces.
"Yeah, we argued," he said, voice half a whine. "It got ugly. He was mad crazy, man. I drew my knife, kind of swiped it at him, but I didn't meant to hurt him. Just get away."
"Convenient for you that he ended up dead in that alley
FFM31 2017 - Hob Goblin Life changed that day; the day they invented the electric hob. When fire no longer burned merrily in the grating; when no log or kindling lay piled by the hearth; no flame to relax by, to keep warm late into the night.
What can a hobgoblin do, with no help to offer, and no ploy or prank to plot?
The milk, locked away in the fridge, can’t be turned. No fleece to tangle, no butter to churn, and every baby born away from home in a maternity ward where no changeling can reach.
I will not deny it, I long thought of leaving; of retiring to the country. But hope can’t be killed forever, and tonight my hour will come again. Today, I learnt about lego.
FFM 2017 -Day 31- (Final) Making HistoryCollecting the bones of a long dead dragon is not an easy task, especially in this economy. But by calling in a few favors, I was able to procure them. Thankfully, one of those favors knew a lot about draconic anatomy; otherwise, I would have never been able to properly put the skeleton back together. Outfitting the skeleton with cybernetics was simple enough. And cheaper. All that was left now was to put in the finishing touch.
I walked over to my desk and opened the chest on it. Inside, the very thing that would bring my creation to life: a heartstone. My left arm sparked and twitched a bit upon seeing the stone, as that arm was powered by a small sliver of a different stone. If only a fraction of a heartstone could power a cybernetic arm for a lifetime, it only made sense that an entire stone could power a whole skeleton. Of course, this experiment would be the first time that such a feat would be attempted. A heartstone wa
Bad Words“Who remembers how plants make their food?”
Photosynthesis, Jacob thought. Big, clever word. Other kids knew the answer too. About five of them shot their hand up straight away to be picked. But Miss Spieler took her time to call on them. They way her eyes passed over them made Jacob’s tummy feel sick. He just looked at his hands. Couldn’t make eye contact. Dangerous. She might–
“Jacob. How do plants make their food?”
Jacob froze. Bit his lips. Raised his head, fraction at a time. Photosynthesis. He moved his lips. Chewed them. Photosynthesis.
“Come on, Jacob. I know you know the answer.”
Photosynthesis. Everyone was looking at him. They thought he was dumb. Idiot boy. Photosynthesis.
No. Enough. Stop. Can’t say it. Won’t say it. He put his head down on this arms and blocked out the class.
Jacob woke up the middle of the night. He got out his bed and turned on his small light which just sho
FFM 2017 Day 17 - Mission Improbable"Pizza!" Noise. No words, but there are footsteps approaching the door. "PIZZA."
"I'm, I... hfff, I..." (growling?) "...I'm sorry, I didn't order a pizza."
She leans against the door, giving an exaggerated sigh. "Well.. I mean, it's not like it's gonna get where it was supposed to, now. Want it anyway?"
"Oh! Nnnnhhh... nuh... no, I couldn't, I'd feel bad. It's... someone else's. I could, I couldn't eat a stranger's food."
"Okay, well, your loss."
The building wasn't up to code. The wall didn't have emergency ladders for the 01-05 apartments, and her target lived in 401.
They'd told her the target was "not social," not that he was a shut-in. There were only so many ways to get into an apartment when the door has multiple locks and interior hinges. She couldn't just wait in the lobby for days on end. She'd tried; someone reported her for vagrancy. The only building with a vantage point for sniping him through his window had experienced a fire before she'd gotten the assignment.
Raknar Under SailOn a barnacle-studded rock, bewinged by plumes of cold saltwater, a young woman – her thick, flowing hair red and rich as seaweed – arched her back and sang. Her elegant fish tail carved the waves behind her gently, wistfully.
“One day you'll see,” she breathed with longing, her glittering eyes fixed on the distant mist-shrouded coast, “Someday I'll be - part of your worrrrrlll-”
She slumped face first into the ocean, a harpoon protruding from her back, and Raknar hauled her from the churning pink water in order to inspect his kill. The mermaid wore a superlative clamshell breastplate. He strapped it on, and pulled his Snuffleupagus cloak back over his previously bare chest.
His equipment was legendary – composed of only the finest armours and weaponry from across the realms of fiction. He'd roamed those lands corner to corner, hunting creatures exotic and inexplicable. Many had left their mark on him, but none so severely as the teletubbies. T
The Cat I was sitting in the front row of a conference room, listening to the buzz of the AC. My mind was still trying to sort out how I got here and why I was wearing this strange new dress. There were others, all looking as puzzled as me, but none of us spoke to each other. Personally, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to go home. I had things to do and no time for whatever this was.
In the front of the room was a desk with a pitcher labeled ‘Palm Wine.’ A little note under it said it was good for cleaning out the body and soul, whatever that meant. I wasn’t interested.
Why was I here and why were there no doors?
There was a loud click and a door appeared behind the desk. For a second, I thought I had to be dreaming. It couldn’t be real.
Then a brown, spotted cat walked in the door. She sauntered up to the desk and hopped on, then sat like some cat st
A Simple Question It was a simple question without a simple answer. A yes or no was expected, but how does one pick which to use.
He sat cloaked in shadows, wearing all black. Even his skin was dark, reflecting only faint pieces of the candle light. Had anyone else come across him, they might have thought him death itself sitting on the bridge.
The woman in red didn’t make such an assumption. She stopped just a few paces from him and stood there staring. She didn’t move closer. She didn’t move away. Both already knew why the other was there. It was time. The question didn’t need to be asked, but it did need to be answered.
After several minutes, he stood and walked over to her. She waited. He held out a thin hand, but didn’t touch her. She needed to take his hand, not the other way around. “You are certain?”
She gave a nod, but said nothi
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