Alien Adventure

Another Saturday Centus...another opportunity to do some creative writing...writing based on a written or visual prompt. More importantly, a test to see if I can do it in the prescribed 100 words or less. This week's prompt takes us in a new direction...to use the prompt "Beam me up Scotty", and write something in the sci-fi genre. I like sci-fi...a lot. Funny thing that I had been involved in some hands on sci-fi work and writings this past week, and had actually written the words "Beam me up Scotty". So, my Centus work today is based on this strange occurrence from this past week...not a rehash mind you, but a more concise and fresh approach. I would not want to feed you literary leftovers. If you would like the more complete story check out my post, Snalien Adventure.

My propensity for believing all is possible was tested yesterday. Gazing out to my snow-covered yard, I saw five, small, pastel-colored alien-like creatures. I quickly put on my clothes and stepped outside, walking slowly towards them. By some strange and mystical fashion we were able to communicate...that they were Snaliens from the planet Alkazeltzera, and had come to mine snow, a most important, life-supporting element for Snaliens. I communicated that they could have all they wanted, and offered to help them. After we had filled their golden spaceship, they asked if I would like to journey back with them to Alkazeltzera. I smiled, and quietly said, "Beam me up Scotty".

The Journey Begins

Another Saturday, another Centus...or should we say quarter centus, quentus perhaps? As if I do not normally struggle to confine my writings to 100 words...this week we are allowed only 25. Well, I can play this game by golly! The sentence below is my offering to the quentus gods...our prompt in bold italics. What's next...a uni-centus? I've got a word in mind for that one...Peace and blessings...

With the lottery ticket in his pocket, and an innate desire to change the world in his heart, Ben journeyed from his small hometown to claim his future.

Snalien Adventure

We have had near record amounts of snow this past week, and plenty of cold weather to go with it. It snowed and snowed, and stayed and stayed. We did not get out in a car until yesterday afternoon. For some reason I felt compelled to do the snowman thing. I came up with a novel approach to it using an alien theme...thusly "Snaliens". The story follows the photos...Enjoy...peace and blessings

Francois

Pierre

Francois and Pierre

Genevieve

Francois, Pierre and Genevieve

Francois, Pierre, Genevieve, Elvis and Winona

Elvis and Winona

Motur

Story

Day 1-
Do not fear, my little woodland creature friends. I am a Snalien. I come in peace, searching for snow. Our race needs snow for fuel, water, food...I am made of snow. I will fill my golden spaceship with your snow and return to Alkazeltera. Our Snalien world will be saved! Thank you little woodland creatures.

Day 2-

The Snalien story continues...just yesterday we had a visitor here on West Watkins St....a Snalien(the one on the left) from the planet Alkazelztera in search of snow. In short supply on Alkazelztera, snow is essential for life for the Snaliens. Being we have such an abundance of the stuff, they decided to come here to mine snow, fill their golden spaceship and return home. The woodland creatures were the first to greet our new guest yesterday. I quickly followed with a formal welcome, and found out that the Snalien goes by the name of Francois...perhaps born in Quebec? Well, back to snow mining. Francois had to call reinforcements...(rememberthere is a butt load of snow). Lo and behold, Pierre arrived today via an Alkazelztera Super Shuttle to assist Francois with the snow mining. Our friendly woodland creatures were out to welcome Pierre. With all this snow, I can only wonder if Francois and Pierre will need more assistance?? Perhaps I will offer them a hand...

Day 3-

Well, it's been mighty cold, and such hard work mining snow...the boys decided they needed some female company. So, by super duper fast Alkazelzertan shuttle comes their bestest friend, Genevieve. Genevieve has beautiful blue eyes and ruby-red lips...and such delicate hands, not meant for snow mining. Looks like she might be a good back scratcher. Perhaps our friendly woodland creatures will come welcome her shortly.{please note that I do not intend this as a sexist story...I'm just having fun}

I did find out why these Snaliens have French names. They did indeed visit Quebec on another snow mining mission. Their Alkazelzteran Snalien names are just to impossible to pronounce. French names are so beautiful and just roll off the tongue. Their hosts in Quebec thought these names would be easier.

I am not certain yet as to the relationship of our trio, one to the other...boyfriend, girlfriend, just friends...I'm not sure...and I know little of Snalien culture. I will keep you posted on any new developments. Beam me up Scotty ;-)

Day 4-

Wow! You would not believe what has been happening here since Genevieve arrived on the scene yesterday. This morning I went out to see if they needed anything and lo and behold there were two new Snaliens...and they did not arrive by shuttle from Alkazeltzera. Two new baby Snaliens. I do not understand their culture or biology so I cannot comment further on just what happened?? Their parents (not sure who's who or what or how) named them, but as I said before, Snalien names are quite impossible to pronounce, so I decided to give these cuties some down home southern names...Elvis is on the left(notice the resemblance?) and sweet Winona with the beautiful purple feather hair. So what started as one lone visitor from the planet Alkazelztera has now become one large happen family of Snaliens.

Other developments: Snalien arch enemy, Motur, from the planet Calrondu, crash landed here today. I have been in negotiations with Motur for most of the day. Motur would normally eat Snaliens. Using my finest skills of intergalactic mediation, I have convinced Motur to leave my Snalien friends alone. In exchange for this brief peace amongst intergalactic residents, I have offered my enormous skills at spacecraft repair to help him return to his home planet. I will hope that he will take this bit of good hospitality home with him and convince others from Calrondu that war is not the answer. Out in the galaxy as here on Earth, love is and will be the only solution.

I will keep you posted on further developments (I am trying to convince our large Snalien family to return here after they have delivered the life saving snow back to Alkazeltzera)...I remain hopeful...

Quiet Resolve

The snow gone from the ground, springtime sounds and scents blanketed her world. Her crumpled up list of resolutions lay dusty in that corner. The wrinkles of the paper secreting wishes and hopes made hastily, like pudding. The wrinkles of the paper, like the wrinkles of her face, revealing a wisdom acquired over time...understanding that winter is not a good time for change.

Tis a Hopeful Season

It was Christmas Eve 1934. Large snowflakes were gently drifting downward to the streets of Manhattan. The stores were closing early, the sidewalks bustling with last minute shoppers. Albert had been a Macy's Santa going on ten years. He and his wife Katherine had truly epitomized "Mr. and Mrs. Klaus", bringing as much year-round joy to all as they possibly could. They owned a small grocery on Amsterdam, and had provided food to those in need since the crash of '29.

Christmas for Albert was different this year. Dear Katherine had unexpectedly passed away in April. Albert had quickly drifted into depression, and took to the 'drink'. His robust laughter as the children sat on his lap masked an enormously deep sadness.

As he exited the side door of Macy's, he retrieved the flask from his pocket, and took a long draw from the narrow opening. The warmth of the whiskey would keep him warm on his long walk home to the lonely apartment above the store on Amsterdam.

He decided to take a different route home, walking north along busy 5th Ave. As he crossed 53rd he could hear the rich sound of the St. Thomas Church organ accompanied by hundreds of voices inside..."Away in a manger..." A small voice told him to "go inside". So, Albert, the once happy, now sad, white bearded fat man rolled through those church doors...perhaps the right doors at the right time.

This is my Christmas Day installment of the prompted, creative writing exercise, Saturday Centus. The prompt is the bold italicized part.

Peace and blessings, with hopes for better days ahead.

Namaste, jeff c...

Amanae

As Elven lives go, Amanae's had been quite remarkable. Born to revered and powerful parents (her father of the Dwinghymn House, her mother of Tyrmitore ancestry), she had walked a path of remarkable beauty and wisdom. Simply, Amanae's presence and powers were unsurpassed. There was but one thing left for her to do in life...mate with a human. The child from such a union would possess great knowledge and power and would rise to prominence in her 'House'. This life goal could mean her demise, but after long and careful consideration, she knew it was her destiny.

Amanae walked down Mulberry Street to a brightly lit house on the corner of Elm. Inside the Stewarts were hosting the annual Mulberry St. Christmas costume block party. As Amanae entered through the foyer, all eyes turned, gazing on her radiant beauty. She at once knew that finding a Nieve would be easy. As she entered the living room, she heard the rather snippy Ellen Jones whisper to Ann Lewis, " what was she thinking? OMG! Elves are so 2009." Amanae thought to herself, "Eshui'du, yes 2009, the year before that and the centuries before that. This night was going to be fun."

Elven glossary:

Amanae...beautiful whisper

Dwinghymn...walkers in the forgotten ways

Tyrmitore...mistresses of the moon

Nieve...lover

Eshui'du...dumbass

From the Red-Shoe Diaries

Time once again for Saturday Centus. I am a bit late in posting, and as usual a bit over my 100 word limit. I am doomed to fail this class! Nonetheless, I forge ahead, seeking forgiveness for my academic shortcomings. The prompt for this week is in bold italics. The remainder is from the caverns of my mind.

It had been a little over a year since I'd last visited Auntie Nell. My work in San Francisco was far too consuming, leaving me little time for the true pleasures of life. Nell and I shared many pleasures;our unique shared fondness for shoes was front and center. While she was affectionately known as the "Imelda Marcos of Manhattan", I was less affectionately known as the chick with too many shoes. Deep down I knew they were just jealous.

Nell's passing had come as a bit of a shock. I would now be left with only the sweet sadness of memories, and countless pairs of shoes we had picked out together...save one pair that never made it back to San Francisco...an exquisite pair of bright red snakeskin, pointed-toe, Jimmy Choo pumps. Where they had gone remained a mystery.

I entered the Greenwich Village Funeral Home and went directly to Nell's viewing room. I requested to see her sweet, loving face one last time. In keeping with her often outrageous approach to life...and death, she had requested to be interred in a custom built, Bergdorf Goodman shoebox-shaped casket. An involuntary gasp of shock escaped my lips when I opened the 'shoebox' and saw the pointy-toed shoes...those bright red Jimmy Choos that would forever be in my memories...but not on my feet.