LPF Week 17 - My Happy Place

Edric couldn't understand why so many adults in the village seemed unable to remember his name. He would often overhear people talking about him, but they never referred him as "Edric." Instead, they called him "that strange little boy," or "the weirdo," or even "the freak." When he heard this, Edric would helpfully shout "My name is Edric!" from whatever tree branch or rooftop he'd climbed up onto, but for some reason this never seemed to help. Also, people always seemed to be startled to discover that he was sitting on a nearby rooftop or tree branch, which seemed odd, because he was always climbing up to those places, and shouldn't they be expecting it by now? And why didn't adults look up more, anyway? Up was a wonderful direction, full of interesting things like clouds, and the stars, and the moon, and certain birds. Edric did not understand adults.

One day, after the baker had shouted at him to stop climbing on her roof "like some kind of awful little gargoyle," Edric decided to visit the nearby woods. It was filled with really wonderful trees for climbing, and even some pretty great rocks, and there was an excellent chance that no one would shout at him while he was there.

On this particular day, however, Edric discovered that some of the other young children from the village were already playing at the edge of the woods. Edric would have preferred to avoid them, but his mother was always encouraging him to try to get along with other children and attempt to make some friends. Edric understood other children even less than he understood adults, and couldn't think of a single reason he would want one as a friend.

"Hello," Edric said, startling the children.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people!" one of them said, which made no sense to Edric. He had clearly announced himself, which was the opposite of sneaking.

"What are you doing?" Edric asked, trying to show polite interest, even though they were almost certainly doing something boring like playing with mud or a ball or a ball made of mud.

"None of your business!" one of them said, rather rudely. Well, that went about as well as expected.

Edric decided to go find some other part of the woods that was not infested with disagreeable children. And so he found himself wandering around in unfamiliar parts of the woods, which was a marvelous way to get lost and then eaten by wild animals, both of which would probably have upset his mother. Edric reasoned that if he became lost he could climb a very tall tree and then spot some landmark to guide him home. Also, he could climb a very tall tree in order to evade wild animals that wished to eat him. Really, climbing tall things was the solution to every problem Edric could think of.

So it's easy to imagine how delighted Edric was to discover the crumbling old tower. Edric could immediately tell that it had been abandoned for quite some time. The whole top was missing, and so much of the mortar had crumbled away that the vines overgrowing the entire structure were probably the only thing holding it together.

It was beautiful.

Up close, it was even more beautiful, as Edric was able to better see the veins of blue and black in the predominantly gray stone, and to better observe the many lichens growing on said stone. Edric thought lichens were a very underappreciated forest denizen.

What with all of the vines and gaps between stones, the tower was very easy to climb, and soon Edric was perched on the highest part of the remaining wall, gazing at the sky. It was so peaceful here, away from all of the people. He wished he didn't have to go back.

Several hours later he heard a flutter of wings, and something landed on the stone next to him. It was a cuckoo.

Edric sighed. He could pretend that it was a coincidence, but that would only make his mother angry. She had obviously sent it to remind him to go back to the village. Edric was still quite young, but he was old enough to understand the joke - the cuckoo laid its eggs in the nests of other birds to be raised by unwitting parents, in much the same way his mother had placed him in the human village.

"I'm going, I'm going," he said, and started to climb back to the ground. He glanced longingly up at the sky one more time.

Edric hoped he'd soon be old enough to leave the nest.

LPF Week 17 - Vigilance

When Fiona Cassien's name came up in conversation at high society gatherings, there were two aspects of her person most likely to be discussed. One was that she was, depending on one's point of view, either carving out exciting new discoveries on the frontiers of science or trampling all over the laws of nature and God. The other was that she complained all the time. Of the two, it was the latter that was more frequently discussed, and not just because it was the subject less likely to devolve into friendship-ending bickering.

Fiona's current foremost complaint was with much of human civilization's compulsive need to bury objects of value with corpses. As far as Fiona was concerned, it was a waste of valuables, and she was convinced that many people shared her view, and only perpetuated the practice due to societal pressure. It would be simply scandalous if she didn't bury valuables with her dead uncle even though he had no possible use for them now that he was dead. Also, the likelihood that he would be buried with valuables made it that much more likely that unscrupulous persons would dig up his corpse in order to steal said valuables. Should this happen, she would then have to pay for his body to be re-interred, possibly with a new collection of valuables, which might then result in the process repeating itself. Fiona was tempted to have inscribed on his tombstone "Buried with Nothing of Value," but knew enough about the human mind to know that this would absolutely guarantee his grave was robbed in a matter of hours.

It was not that he had not loved her uncle - she had, in fact, been quite fond of him. He had been a sensible and practical man in a world that seemed to be filled with credulous idiots, and she was quite certain that he would rather she spend money on new glassware, surgical tools, rare isotopes, or even eye of newt rather than bury his body in an expensive box along with his rings, his best cuff-links, and his prosthetic eye that according to urban legend was actually a giant ruby.

Fiona had an idea for a possible solution to this problem, and invited her colleague Kasimir over for coffee so she could bounce the idea off him. Kasimir was ideal for this sort of thing because he was an intelligent, thoughtful man who would understand any technical language that might arise during the conversation, and because there was no possible way that he could misconstrue the invitation as any kind of romantic overture. Also, he was willing to put up with her complaining.

"I was thinking I might make something to guard Uncle Valerian's grave," Fiona said before either of them had even managed to sip their coffee.

"It's lovely to see you too, my dear," Kasimir said. Then he rather theatrically rubbed his chin and considered her statement. "Hmm. That sounds ghoulish and horrifying. I approve. How many tentacles were you planning to give this something?"

"Kasimir, not everything needs to have tentacles," Fiona said. Kasimir's eyes grew wide with astonishment. He stiffly placed his cup on the table.

"Fiona, you are dead to me," he said solemnly.

"Oh, stop it," Fiona said. "Fine, I won't rule out tentacles completely." Kasimir smiled and picked up his coffee cup.

"I am pleased to renew our friendship," he said.

"Yes, I too am pleased that the terrible rift between us has been mended. But seriously, I was thinking that some kind of guardian - a very conspicuous guardian, mind you - would say to the world that I don't want anyone digging up Valerian's corpse. But, since that will also convey to certain people that it might be worth digging it up, it's got to be able to follow through and discourage people in an overtly physical manner."

"You mean you want it to be able to rip off people's arms if necessary," Kasimir said.

"Well, obviously."

They discussed the matter at considerable length. In the end, they agreed that the guard really only needed to be active at night, because who robs a grave in broad daylight? It needed to be able to see in the dark. It needed to be able to incapacitate two or three physically fit adult men wielding shovels. It should look terrifying. It should have at least three tentacles.

It felt like a cliché, but she also gave it eyes on the back of its head.

Several weeks and a dozen or so fatalities later, after the debacle had completely run its course and the renegade creature had been tracked down and "decommissioned," someone at Fiona's hearing asked why she didn't just cremate her uncle.

"Don't be stupid," she said. "What if I wanted to talk to him?"

LPF Week 17 - "Being a writer is like having homework every night for the rest of your life"

"You didn't write anything today. Why didn't you write anything today?"

I didn't feel like it, okay?

"You have to write something. The deadline is coming soon, and you're so far behind. Look at how behind you are!"

I know I'm behind. It's just...this is hard. And I've been busy with other stuff.

"None of that was really important. Besides, everyone else has stuff going on in their lives, and they still manage to write things. I bet that one person has already written like, a thousand words already."

Yeah, well, good for them.

"You know what? You'll never finish in time. Why even bother to start at this point?"

I don't want to just give up. Maybe I can throw something together at the last minute.

"It's already the last minute! Why did you put this off for so long?"

Look, I can't just perform on command, alright? Sometimes the words aren't there. And there's just so much pressure.

"Yes. It's going to be humiliating when you fail completely."

That's not helping.

"You're disappointing everyone."

Well, not 'everyone.'

"No, you're right, there's that one person who swore to destroy you and everything that you love."

I thought that was a bit extreme, but I guess they really didn't like my entry that week.

"Meh, you can't please everyone."

Okay, look, I wrote something. See, that's not bad.

"That's garbage! You can't submit that garbage! They'll all think that you've been replaced by a pod person replicant of yourself that can't write as well as the original you could!"

Okay, how about this?

"That's pretty good. You can be proud of that one. Of course, it was a waste of time if you don't finish the others."

I know, I know.

"You know, if you're really having trouble, we could probably replace you with a pod person replicant. They might have better luck with this week."

No way. Remember that one week that I let the robot take over for me?

"People loved that week."

I know! I don't know which was worse - the fact that the robot me was more popular than I was, or that it set expectations so unrealistically high for the next week.

"Plus it tried to kill you and permanently take your place."

Yeah, that sucked.

"You could bargain away something to eldritch forces from beyond space and time. That usually helps."

Again? I feel like I do that every other week.

"Well, it's gotten you this far."

Ugh, fine. What do I even have left I can offer them, though?

"Let me check. Okay, they want a couple of fingers."

They want what?!

"Do you have any better ideas?"

No. I guess I don't.

"Well then."

this suscks. I..m goigns to have so manyu more typso now.

"Eh, no one said writing was easy."

LPF Week 17 - fatberg

Our world teeters on the bring of ecological disaster. Whole species of animals and plants (and probably stuff like fungi that no one really cares about) are vanishing from the planet every day. Habitat loss is the number one killer for many of these vanishing, irreplaceable parts of our world. Isn't it time we realize that there are places that humans simply don't belong? That there are places we should leave aside for the rest of the world's inhabitants?

And that's why I'm calling for an end to urban spelunking.

Yes, I know that many people would claim that these environments are already the domain of human beings, having been constructed by humans in the first place. But we turned our backs on those places, and other things moved in, and it's not fair to suddenly say we want them back again.

It's estimated that there are fewer than a hundred giant albino sewer alligators left in the world today, but every day people invade their homes and risk trampling their eggs. We abandoned those sewers when they became too clogged with congealed garbage, and the alligators thrived. But now that disgusting mass is a tourist destination, and the alligators are on the brink of extinction.

It's not even illegal to kill them when they try to eat you! Personally, I think that if someone is thoughtless enough to invade the home of a precious endangered species, then they deserve to be eaten, along with their entire tour group.

And what about ghouls? If we didn't want ghouls moving into our abandoned graveyards, when we shouldn't have abandoned those graveyards in the first place.

Don't even get me started on the giant, radioactive, all-consuming "monster" in the Nevada desert's old nuclear testing grounds. It's the only one of its kind! Probably! Doesn't it deserve a place in this world as much as we do? I mean, why do people even want to visit radioactive parts of Nevada?

Please, the next time you're considering venturing into the dark, forgotten corners of our world just...just don't, alright? Those little baby white alligators are just so darned cute.