emphibian

hello everyone.

this is a short story taking place somewhere in the future.
comments welcome'd.
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Inconsiderate bastards.

Jane wakes up today earlier than the patient sun; she sits up in bed without a single thought loitering her head. Light on every post. Chants to chance an enchanted spell for her atrocities to river itself away from her tight wound wounds. She picks herself up and sands the carpet, walking zombie thinking zombie, hurled her notes and thoughts away for her cabinet holds her holy grail. Almost ajar the door she swings it and patiently lets a gasp fall through. Her throat aching in disbelief, a fragile bone that hunches a breaking stick, breaks, her door was left unlocked.

Inconsiderate bastards.

Her nightmare wasn't a nightmare after all. Misshapen cackling and bewitching silence was the essence of her lazy reality. How could she have known. No panic struck her, no, albeit, she walks a picnic casual stroll and just across the hall she goes, picks up the telephone. As her finger dials, from the dial tone to the notes, the reception to my home, I wake up to the sound of that persistent ring. Wincing my way.

JANE:
My Meta's* stolen.

My day did not have to start like this today. I got up earlier than that patient sun today and I made my way down town to meet Jane. She wasn't in a mess. She was rather calm. I don't know how one could be so calm after such an incident. She was normal.

JANE:
I really need to get something down.

I really did not have to start my day like this.

JANE:
The hardware store. They say you could use another Meta to transfer thoughts in. You just need to use the pins.

I knew about using these pins to do transfers. But the problem with it is that it's not stable. Since the Meta runs on a dedicated server, it could get awry when it gets hacked with a secondary master. Despite this being known, the Meta company did provide stable pins to ensure the procedure could run in order.

But I've lost my pins.

JANE:
Don't worry. The hardware guy told me regular pins work all the same.

I hate that. My brain started working after years of sheer dependence on my post-physical brain and this was something I really did not enjoy doing. Thinking. The future's made to help us enjoy whatever we have planted. Why now? Why today? I cower a smile. Lets.

We approach the store and I witness Jane, the sweetest of sweetest women I've ever known, turn into the most annoying and infuriating bitches I'll know. She walks up to the door and pushes it open as she makes a turn to face me and smiles in glee, ducks her head ever-so quirky down her shoulders and enters the shop. Why have I become Bill Murray? Feels like it. I force a shrug and walk in.

Even the sensor alarm becomes annoying.

Jane was already talking to the hardware guy. Planetary alignments and some general mysticism I reckon is what moulds proper chemistry in place perhaps. I made my way closer to them. Look at them. Laughing about some current affairs or maybe her stupidity**. Why does she like to do that? Make herself seem so stupid and gets others laughing with her, not at her. How does she do it? Why am I even thinking this? This is not how I think of her. Why am I letting one such incident like this ruin the image of Jane? Isn't she that sweet girl you've known since? Why is this getting to me? Is this because I started using my brain? Isn't that what it is? Fuck.

JANE:
Got it. Let's go.

Back at my apartment, wasteland of a modest reputation, we arranged 2 chairs facing each other from my study table, threw my books to my bed and placed the Meta on it. The table, not the bed.

I started the Meta and let it warm itself up. I'm not sure if that is a procedure, but it's become a habit for me.

JANE:
I love the Meta, you know. All that we’ve come from and all that? This is the answer and our prize for years of tireless efforts to create a better living condition for us all.

As she talked***, I walked to my kitchen and fixed us a drink. I made sure it was coffee for me. If only I had some aspirin.

Before we began, I told her that this has never been proven safe. Besides, we're not using the required pins for the job, so technically this has never been proven at all.

JANE:
I need to get this down. Do you have a better suggestion?

I stared at her. I deleted my files, cleared and re-programmed my Meta and closed its lid. I pushed the Meta towards her and told her "It's yours."

I didn't need it.

She hugged me.

I didn't need it.

She left my apartment and called me as soon as she got home. I wasn't that happy to hear her voice. But at least she got home all right with the Meta. That's a relief.

That night I couldn't sleep. I knew I had something on my head I just couldn't put a finger on. Fuck. My Meta's with Jane. Am I regretting giving my Meta away? I doubt it. I went back to sleep.

I couldn't sleep. My thoughts are thoroughly in a mess. I need my Meta.
Why is this happening to me? Why am I arguing with myself? What's so difficult about living without the Meta? I don't need it. It's perfectly sane to be thinking on my own. So what if I’m a little slow on this. I'm all right. I'm doing all right. This is just absurd. What has the Meta got that I don't have? The Meta could break down couldn't it? That's just like all of us. We all could break down. So why do w3 n33d to r3ly on it so much? Th3r3's absolut3ly no n33d for us to r3ly on the M3ta at all. What d0n't I hav3 that the M3ta c0uld have? Why am I wrub etsetnlkvb seur5lghg ertoghoe t4389tnvg5l35kvm893y 35y8935wpm b35y8935 m3y 5y08wm5 53509y vm550y89wby5m30 53067 wbnm0yw54y08967w3n b0y[b,ujykd x8450n w5y0[ hjw46jpn[5680 wn5y0w yu5ohji tl;;.///////////.................................................. .................
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The phone is ringing. Who the fuck calls me at this hour? I feel so stoned. My hand! My hand! MY HAND!!!

A slip, which says, "We are the sole protector of your most prized possession and you need us as a guarantee that you are sane."

I wake up to the sound of that persistent ring. Wincing my way.

JANE:
My Meta's stolen.

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footnote:

* Meta is an instrument used to dictate a concise direction of one’s thoughts. By typing in your disordered thoughts, the Meta will print out a slip, which would present the particular thing you wanted to do without you wasting your time on it. The instrument is similar to that of a laptop but is not compatible with any other software but it’s own. To use it, the Meta has to be programmed by the user accordingly, inputting his IQ, languages, qualifications, and details after details of their own mental capabilities. In short, the Meta is a physical mechanics of a brain.

** JANE:
(Laughing) I had a feeling he wanted something from me
HARDWARE GUY:
(Chuckles) Where was your brain when you needed it?
JANE:
(Acting serious) Well it was so hard to think at that moment, you know? It was just so wild!
HARDWARE GUY:
(Acting cool) Don’t let them fool you.

*** JANE:
I mean, can you imagine it? Back then, everyone was just forcing themselves to think of a solution but today…. today we don’t need to get into a stress period just so we could get something done. We have been blessed with time, man. Can you believe that? We have given ourselves back the time that our folks had so blindly lost. Wow.
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thank you for reading.

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how insensitive.

Sigg

Very nice. I particularly liked the unique style that you used in this story, while at times it did add to a certain amount of confusion. I'm the kind of reader that likes a challenge though so I really enjoyed it a lot. The plot was interesting, it was a cliche but told in an original way. I won't even bother telling you about spelling mistakes and such as I have no real way of knowing if they are intentional or not. Over all, this was a refreshing change from the humdrum of the average short story, thanks for that.

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Drivin' in my Cadillac Rock Box

emphibian

hey Sigg.

thanks for reading, appreciate the comments.

question, the spelling mistakes that you mentioned, i've run a spell check again and it didn't pick up on anything aside from "Meta" if i remember correctly. let me know if i've missed out on anything ya?

thanks again.

__________________
how insensitive.

BeYoNd WoRdS

Emphibian,

Hi! After reading "The Good Guys" I went looking for more of your work. I like this one a lot as well. The first time I read it through I was kind of confused. I had a vague understanding of what was happening, but felt it was kind of over my head. But I read on hoping that in the end it would all make sense. And it did. Very cool. I really like your style. You have quite an imagination!

-BeYoNd WoRdS

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K-P

Strange. I'm not really sure what the hell is going on, but some of your words come together nicely.

You jump from the third person to the first person. I don't quite understand; how does the narrator know what Jane is doing, especially since the tense is in the present?

I have some suggestions:
If you're writing in the present tense, you don't need to say "today," because it's implied. And, how is the sun patient? Perhaps a different adjective would clarify your idea. But, personally, I don't believe an adjective is needed. The sun is the sun, you don't need to describe it for us.

I almost stopped reading here. It's far too vague. I'm not sure what you're trying to get at.

All of these adjectives make the sentence far too unwieldy. Why not make up some clever imagery, a metaphor to describe what's happening.

I think it would be better to get rid of the footnotes and just work in a short explanation of Meta into the story.
This whole thing has a stream of conciousness feel to it, but I think that it could be reworked and edited into a very good, concise story.

emphibian

hello again.

Beyond words : thank you so much for searching thru and reading this one as well. and of course your very kind words. these textual thank yous arent enough really.

K-P : thank you for reading and your suggestions as well. i went thru the story again after reading your post and i agree with with the confusion bit regarding the point of view. i believe i did fail there. when i was writing it, it never occured to me that there was a narrator. it was more of a camera than it was a person? the camera switches it's role from being a 3rd person to the 1st person during that telephone bit. what i mean to say is, that's what i intended the whole idea to be like yea? but again when you pointed it out, it makes perfect sense that way as well. thank you again, appreciate everything you've listed down yea.

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how insensitive.

BeYoNd WoRdS

emphibian,
yeah, I'm new to this whole critique -ing thing. I'm not much of an analytical thinker. So it's hard for me to pick something apart and tell you piece by piece what works and what doesn't. I'm more of an emotional reader (and writer.) I can tell you either I liked the piece and felt that it worked as a whole, or I hated it. Maybe that's just not helpful enough to waste space posting about. Sorry. Won't do it again.
-BeYoNd WoRdS

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emphibian

hey Beyond words!

oh no i think you got me all wrong. i was saying that, me stating all my textual thank yous, thanking you, isn't enough to tell you how much it meant to me. it wasnt meant to be taken as if you saying thank you isn't enough.

sorry you got the wrong message. wasn't suppose to come off that way.

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how insensitive.