Dannie and the Monolith

As I have written earlier, I read and post comments to Ann Linquist’s blog. Below is a writing prompt that she recently posted. I thought I should post my comment to her request here as well. I think it is a nifty one. I renamed the post from her blog post of The Cherry Trees are in Bloom! The new name of Dannie and the Monolith seems more appropriate now with my addition.

Writing Prompt:

The cherry orchard was in full bloom. Rows and rows of white-flowered cherry trees lined up very agreeably, both in straight and diagonal lines. Dannie rested her back against a tree, closed her eyes, and let a grin expand wide enough to end in a chuckle. Live was good. She didn’t have to work today, she had a good book, and the sun was just warm enough. She opened her eyes and her book, but before she bent her head to start reading, she spotted something high in a cherry tree peeking out at her a couple rows over. It was black and about the size of a box of Cheerios.

My Response:

Dannie loved to read her books when the orchard was in full bloom. The bloom only lasted about a week. Soon the petals of the cherry blossoms will fall. But now she could relax with her book. Her only distraction was the buzzing of the bees and chattering of birds.

Today was unusual. The miniature monolith drew her attention. She no longer heard the buzzing bees or the bird chatter. Thumping with increasing speed, her own heartbeat was all that she could hear. Otherwise, her complete attention was on the blackness. The emptiness of the void where the monolith perched.

Only seconds later she found herself standing about five feet from the monolith. She no longer had her book in her hands. Her head was tilted up at the black mystery. Rapid breaths were pulled in and out of her slightly opened mouth. Her hands hung limply beside her body with no use any longer. A thrumming vibration, so low that it wasn’t a sound, but a feeling, was matching her heartbeat.

The light of the sun no longer burned in the sky. The white blossoms of the cherry were all gone. Dannie and the monolith where all that existed. Though she had no light to see by, the emptiness of the monolith was bleak against the black nothing that surrounded her. Its shape still calling to her in that hum and thump that matched her own heartbeat. She wasn’t frightened. The only thing that existed was the monolith. She had to be with it. Near it. In it. Her longing wasn’t love or lust. But an ethereal oneness that exceed love.

A rumble shook the darkness around her. Dannie was now surrounded by the stars. The monolith still only five feet from her. She tore her eyes from the emptiness of the monolith. Below her feet was the blue planet shrinking from her. The grayness of the moon flew past her right side. The rusted orb of Mars was now just to her left. The stars were turning into white lines as her speed increased. The monolith thrummed.

The white lines bent around her. Left. Then right. Her gaze moved back to the monolith. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sun broke free from the black. The bees were buzzing. Birds chirped and chattered. Dannie blinked. Looking around she found that she was still sitting by the tree. Her book was opened in her hand. There was no longer a monolith perched in the tree. The wind sung softly through the branches.

She looked up to the tree where the mystery was perched before. A short pang of loss hit her. A fading memory of the void and passing through the galaxy with such speed was tugging at her. She wanted to remember. As the seconds rolled on, she lost those memories. She wrestled in her mind to understand the meaning. Only to be left with a desire. An overwhelming desire to explore and seek the understanding of the mystery of the void.

June 20, 2013December 14, 2014

Silence is eerie

Puns are funny. Especially so – for those who make them.

I was chatting with my middle son tonight. Something I do often. Tonight, I took a moment to just sit there. He looked at me and said, “Awkward silence.”

I replied, “Nope, just listening to nothing.”

“All I hear is the ‘hmmm’ of the fridge.”

“Yeah. I guess that there isn’t much silence around here any way.”

“There is in space.”

“Yep, the vacuum of space doesn’t let sound travel.” I paused and looked him in the eye. “With all of that silence – it must be eerie.” Chuckling, I started pointing at my ear. “You know – EARY.”

A few moments later, the wife steps into the kitchen. I told her the same thing. No laughter. Just an oh-so-slightly amused snicker. She didn’t have to say it out loud.Her look said it clearly. ‘Where did you get that, from a Laffy Taffy wrapper?’

No, my dear. I didn’t get it from a candy wrapper. Although,those wrappers have some really funny stuff on them!

What’s brown and sticky?

A stick!

June 16, 2013December 15, 2014

Happy Father’s Day!

Well, it is Father’s Day.So, I decided I would take a little stab at a polysyllogism (almost). I know, “How Categorically Aristotelian of me.” Feel free to draw a Venn diagram of it if you like.

It is Father’s Day.

If wecall ourfather on Father’s Day,we will talk.

If we talk, we willbe happy.

Therefore, if we talk with our father we will be happy.

Happy Father’s day to all fathers andgrandfathers.

June 16, 2013December 15, 2014

Free writing – Out of Body

I did a little free writing recently. I took a ten minute timer and went to town on Out of Body Experiences. What I am going to do for this blog entry is take that free writing and turn it into something of a blog post. Isn’t that novel. I know that you believe that most of my writing is free writing anyway. And you’re right. I rarely go back and edit my “junk” and clean it up. But this really needed it. I wanted to reflect a little on the content as well. So sit back and relax. Welcome to the free writing redux session.

Out of Body Experiences

I don’t really believe in out of body experiences. I mean how could that really be possible? If you could be out of your body you would have a hard time seeing right? We use our eyes to see. If we somehow managed to get our “soul” or “spirit” out of this mechanical/biological pod, wouldn’t we be blind? The world might appear completely white or black. Maybe just not at all. Doesn’t make any sense.

I do believe that things around us – stimulus – can make us retract from reality. Specifically, I think that pain is an easy one to point out. Love can be another, but the diversion is different. I particularly remember my first… Well, what I remember to be my first experience. Out of body or not. I was young, probably less than ten years old. We had this swing set in the backyard. It was the metaltube frame kind. My dad probably picked it up from the old Howard’s store where he worked. I don’t remember if he did work there then or not. But it seems plausible. The swing had a metal slide on oneside. There were a few chain swings in the middle. Then there was the buggy swing on the opposite end of the slide. The kind where two kids could sit across from each other and swing. We usually sat on the top of the backs of the seats. I am sure that there was no warning written anywhere on it. Back then people were assumed to be smart enough to know what was safe or not. We didn’t really care. If there had been a sticker or sign we would have ignored it. Positively. It was a lot quicker to get thatpuppy up to speed by sitting on the backs of the seats. My cousin and I would sit there and sing our silly made-up songs to each other.

This day in particular started like mostof them did. I was singing and swinging. But this time I fell off the back of that buggy seat. You might ask why. I don’t remember. But, I did fall. Face down. I fell right under the path of that swinging buggy. On its way back to center and through to the top of the swing arc, the buggy passed right over my head. Apparently, the clearance of the bottom of the buggy was enough to miss my butt (which wasn’t much of anything anyway) and catch me right on the back of the head. I don’t remember the impact. But I do remember standing just outside the swing watching the aluminum slats on the bottom that buggy go bam-bam-bam across my skull. That kid’s body, my body, jumping a bit with the impact. The swing eventually slowed down. I regained consciousnessin the back of the car on the way to the hospital. No real damage done. Well, at least as far as I can tell.

So as a recap, I don’t believe in out of body experiences. But, I had one. And – it was weird. I don’t think that I was really outside of my body. But, it was clearly a memory that I hold today with a fair amount of clarity. Memoriesare tricky that way. For me that is. I have quite a few memories that are completely third person experiences. Weird way to remember junk.