Title: Blonde Sanders and the Paper people. ( draft/ Science fiction)

 

I was sitting the lunch room, eating a cheese sandwadge, not because I was hungry, I like cheese, I was just pasing the time. I had also been flolding origami animals. I made a swan, and several smaller swans I lined up behind the mother swan, I sat back and admired my creations. You need a hobby on these long scouting missions.

I was sent here on a scouting mission as my ship explored each planet one by one in this solar system.

You can’t understand a planet just by looking from above. I was given, a 7 water shots that will last the week, and 10 food shots so I don’t go hungry. Though I am happy to fast for a few days, hunger keeps me sharp and alert.

I packed them into my backpack. Along with the usuall emergency supplies: oxygem helmet, ray gun and first aid kit, and of course my intergalaxtic passport. I am always forgetting that.

I arrived on the planet in what seems to be mid morning. The locals we a little startled as I made such a racket coming down. But I made the intergalactic greating and began my tour of the planet.

I look around at all the quaint houses, neat in every way. The ground, the buildings, even the sky had a neat proper perfect look to it. It took me some time to put my finger on it why things looked so neat.  I placed my hand up against a building and absurved its texture, and thats when I got a paper cut. A yes, this world is made of paper, paper roads, paper buildings, paper clouds in a paper sky, and paper people walking on by.

I spoke to the locals and followed a crowd to a town meeting. There I spoke to the mayor and asked if someone could show me around. He got his assistant to show me around. A paper lady, with paper hair curls.

“Greetings I am Blonde Sanders” – I said out aloud. In an all too loud voice.

“ hehe, no need for such formalities, you sound like you are from a 1950’s space film. Carrie is the name. I am the assistant to the mayor at Paperville” –  Carrie said with a smile.

on an origami world I met an origami girl.

We had much to talk about my human world, and her paper thin world.

Her skirt hung of her paper thin waste, with just the right folds.

We went a park to watch ducks swim on a blue paper lake,

And although I cannot live here, and live on paper spaghetti with a red paper sauce, with paper cheese shavings. I am not meant for this angular world.

The noise

As part of my 10 minute stories I have writen this scene carring on from an earler scene I wrote. what-was-that-noise?

Act 5 scene 1

That sound, what is that sound, it going to drive me metal. I can still hear it ringing in my ear. I walk down the street and turn at a T intersection and follow the road all the way down to the main road. The traffic is there, but something odd has happened, there are hundreds of cars as usual making there way to the freeway or on there way up to the contry side. Or just going about their day. But something peculiar is going on here. I look all the way down the main street and realise that all the cars are not moving.

Did they also hear the sound that I heard? Was the sound that strong to so many different people? There was something about that sound that shook something inside of me. I walk in between the traffic that is now stationary to the middle of this normally busy road and look up and down it as far as the eye can see cars stationary.

Did a sound really do all that.

“Ashley!, Ashley!” I hear my name being called as someone rushes over. “Did you hear that noise? It was right in my head!” I small girl asks me, I know her as a family friend. I nod my head and look back down the street.

“Remarkable” I say looking at all the traffic that has stopped. I don’t think I have ever seen this town so quiet or so still. It is almost eiry with all this traffic not moving. Like we are frozen in time.

I head back home. Walk back the way I came turning at the

success in the arts

my broken hand

I wake up and it is still in plaster, wrapped tightly like a glove,

I was going to draw and create all of this uni break,

writing hand, my drawing hand, my crafting hand,

shattered in four pieces,

I sit and look at in despair, how will I get anything done?

I get out of bed, put a shirt over my head, careful with my bulky hand through the arm hole,

sit down at the desk, looking at a blank sheet of paper,

cradling my bulky plaster hand, feeling the texture grazing my palm and fingertips,

I pick up a pen and let the ink seep into the paper, I move up and down the page,

getting a feel for the pen in my hand, seeing how steady my lines are,

a little shaky but I like the style, the innocent uneducated hand I have,

It feels like teaching a child to ride a bike,

And that is when the pen breaks,

I didn’t realize how hard I was grasping the pen, shatters,

plastic spikes penetrate my hand and pinky finger,

I feel the pain, but only stare in shock as ink and blood mix on the page.

 

A short story in the making?

I am aiming to turn one of my poems into a short story. I thought it would be nice to post my progress either chapter by chapter or the whole thing. I went with the whole thing. Here is my first attempt. enjoy! 🙂

Title: 2015: Tax ideology  (short story progrees)

Poem: Tax ideology (chapter titles)

• There is inequity in how tax is paid here I Australia maybe the world,
• Paying off accountants to find loopholes, I’ve earnt it you say?
• But let’s think, what is a quick fix, something obvious, something that hurts,
• Luxury cars, brought with this money stripped from the community,
• Well I would like to stop time, just for one night, venture out with my merry men and women,
• Gone in sixty seconds, Nicolas cage style,
• Change the deeds from coal miner, you single mother, and average family,
• You have worked hard for it, you didn’t even realise you earnt it,
• See happy faces driving around town,
• It’s yours now, don’t believe me? Here there are no self-awarded crowns.

Chapter summaries

1. Travis at 25 realised more and more about the inequality in the world, and while speaking to a friend joked about how he would change it. This joke seemed very plauseable, and scary if it had consequence.
   • This is not about how I feel towards inderviduals, just how I feel how to tax system does not fairly represent the money that is made in Australia. And how I feel towards destruction of our natural beautiful land. Its these strong feelings that drove me to make a plan and send a message.
   • Facts: (have facts jotted at the end of each chapter as a reminder to myself and a reminder to the people why I am doing what I am doing) Once minded it will take 200000 years for the land to recover, every day 20000 fish are taken from our oceans, this will not

2. But how to do it, first you needed to track down the cars, with a reporter friend Travis made on tinder they made an interview will all the fat cats in Australia asking about the cars they drove, making a doccumatenary, they were more than happy to show there pride and joys, this doc was screaned across Australia.
   • There are many reasons why I am doing this, but I am making a forceful change as the rich got that way from playing the system. And now that they succeded we turn around and say play fair. Mmm no, I understand where they are coming from, and don’t think great experctaions is the way to go. For me I will play the system. I will make it work and I will successed. Determination is in my mind.

3. Now how to get the cars from here to somewhere else without anybnody noticing in one night. This would be a big plan, that needed extra hands Taking most if not all his advice from gone in sixty seconds. Travis made this happen

4. People woke the following day to see cars in ther yards with notes on there windscreans , saying it is theres and there is no joke to be had.

• A man got out his crowbar, knowing whos car this was, his boss that fired him 2 months ago, taking the crowbar to the windshield hard and fast
• To get a car to every middle class worker on the census, was something of a chalenege, I wrote notes saying that today, you can drive but tomorrow if you want to trade for a bike or food, or just sell it you can. With a smile at the end of the note
• That day there was traffic chaos everywhere, cars banked up everywhere, but many did not care, as they were enjoying eating chips in a $200,000 car. Sauce stains on the seat.

5. Due to a legal technicality, if the fat cats made any attempt to get the tax back from the community, they will have to backpay their tax, this message only served as a warning to be more generous to there workers, the environment, and to when paying their tax

6. Travis overjoyed with the change he had made in the world, went and got drunk in the afternnon with his friends, it was a hot day and steped on a snake, bitten and in shock he fell back into a ditch where he hit his head, laying unconscious he later died from both the poision and the fall.
   • The funny thing about losing consciousness is that your mind doesn’t register the last view seconds when your head it’s the floor, so for you you only see up until a second or two before you actually loose consciousness. Maybe it has to do with short term and long term memery. Maybe not, either way, Travis is dead now.

thanks for reading. I hope I have the time again to add to it, and make it grow into something nice to read.