Story-A-Day #293: Patio Lanterns

PATIO LANTERNS

To some they might err a little on the side of kitchy, or camp, but to me, I've always found them to be a welcome addition, those patio lanterns that light up the night.

The soft glows in varying shades and hues help dispel the darkness and create a welcoming glow and ambiance in the night.

How could one deny the appeal?

My boyfriend was reluctant to add them to our yard. He said they were a relic of the 80s best left behind with the song that shares their name, but he eventually relented and allowed me to string them up.

Now you would be hard pressed to find him too far from their soft glow - usually the red or green ones. The irony of his colour preference doesn't escape me either, as he claims to hate Christmas too.

I'll admit that a nice clump of solar lights, or a row of flickering citronella tiki torches glimmering in the dark can be just as appealing, but the candles are too high maintenance, and the solar lights often too dim.

No, the revered patio lantern is the perfect accoutrement, the ideal compliment to an outdoor setup frequented at night.

Call me tacky if you want, but I like my lights and they are here to stay.

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Story-A-Day #292: Fur Coat

FUR COAT

There are plenty of us around, an we're all different, but I've always been the type who likes to stand out in a crowd. It may not be practical, but look at me - I'm the envy of the town!

I know, bright yellow in a world of green I a little out there, but I it works for the bumblebees and the wasps, why couldn't it work for me? It's built in, natural camouflage.

Besides, this is just temporary. I could have been satisfied as an ugly green worm up until my transformation, but I wanted
to be use to being beautiful, to being the envy of the yard.

Wen my transformation is complete, I will be ten tines as beautiful, soaring high above these dusty tracks.

I will become the butterfly that flies higher than all others, that soars up to the edges of the heavens, blazing a trail of colour and envy through the swirling winds. Even the stars will swoon before my radiance.

For now, I will continue making my presence known, feigning bashfulness as the birds whistle at my passing.

I appreciate the attention boys, but you ain't seen nothing yet! This is the beginning if something glorious, something that will change the way the work looks at beauty.

I am about to rock the world. Once I crawl through the other end of the long sleep, Aphrodite herself will weep.

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Story-A-Day #291: Battle Of The Burrs

BATTLE OF THE BURRS

This time of year, they aren't too bad, almost like little balls of velcro that cling to clothes, but are easily plucked free. They make for a great distraction during the lazy dog days of late summer.

Once they dry out though, it's a whole different mess. Individual brown spikes cling voraciously, almost digging in deeper as you struggle to rip them free.

They thrive for socks - sport, wool, cotton, it doesn't matter. They dig deep, and cling tight, scratching their way into the confine where the tender flesh of ankles awaits.

They are ingenious nuisances, hitching a ride and spreading their seeds with ease, steadily setting pace to commandeer the entire forest floor by the following Spring.

For now though, they are fun projectiles, clinging to clothes and hair with reckless abandon as we hoot and holler our way through the wilderness, miniature barbed mines that float just right as they seek out their targets.

They are a perfect way to pass a warm afternoon in August.

I duck and role as one bounces uselessly off a nearby tree, much to close for comfort. With a loud cry, I explode upward and let loose a volley, before fleeing for cover.

The battle will rage in until my mother's distant call to dinner. It will be an epic battle.

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Story-A-Day #290: Look Out

LOOK OUT

These are trying times. Some have even called them the en of days. I don't think we're that bad off - in fact, I think this is just what we needed to right the seriously sinking ship we call humanity.

The riots ended almost six months ago, and most of the bad elements have killed each other off. All that remains are a few pockets of us survivors. Well, there is the other element. The contaminated ones. I've heard them referred to by many names: zombies, ragers, plagues, even the horsemen, but I think of them as the victims of this culling. They didn't ask for it and now all we can do for them is offer a quick and painless death.

We quickly learned that the key to survival is more than food, shelter, and fresh water. Having the high ground is just as essential.

That's how we wound up here. The building below is virtually windowless, therefore secure, but it is the old radio tower above that really drew us here.

We make our way into the city for supplies twice a week, but mostly we man the look out and pick off the contaminated.

There are a couple young guys in our party and they feel vindicated that their hours of video games each day have proven valuable after all. And quite rightly too. From their perch high atop the tower, they never miss.

These are difficult times, but we are surviving. Eventually we will have to rebuild and that is where the real challenges will begin. Our society evolved over time, before eventually devolving into this mess we're in. Where would one start rebuilding something that took thousands of years to perfect, and mere decades to bring to it's knees?

That is where our late night discussions reside, and where hopefully, the answers will become clear.

We will rebuild, but only time will tell if we get it right this time.

A single crack of rifle fire erupts into the night. It can't get any worse than this.

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Story-A-Day #289: Map Evol.

MAP EVOL.

It was a terse but simple directive: Map Evolution. We had been fools not to do so already, but the scope of the situation didn't lend itself to microcosmic consideration. This was a global issue, thus we had viewed it only on the broadest canvas imaginable.

It started with the birds and fish dying en masse, then there were anonymous reports of a mining operation in the Canadian Arctic that had made an unearthly discover beneath the white northern wastelands.

This new directive had come in from our field team in Barrow, Alaska. They were investigating another occurrence that we had hypothesized was related and we were anxiously awaiting word on their findings.

The terse nature of the message was a concern, but the instruction was crystal clear. Map the evolution of these seemingly related events.

The birds falling from the sky en masse throughout the U.S. and Europe; multiple global instances of large fish populations washing ashore; the mine and the Alaska situation. All of those without taking into consideration the rumored effects of solar flares and an eclipse - and now earthquakes that were rattling the east coast of America.

It would be a complex algorithm and I would need to call in assistance from our meteorologists and geologists to get it right. I am a huge fan of riddles and this was definitely my kind of puzzle.

It all seemed to be linked to the mining operation in the Arctic and I hoped the Barrow team would send word on their findings soon.

To figure out what exactly was going on would be sifting through a cord of fire wood in search of a single termite: difficult and time consuming, but not impossible.

Map evolution. It was a start.

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Story-A-Day #288: Digger

DIGGER

It started off as a simple issue with a broken water main. The city claimed no fault in the matter, although it was undoubtedly their construction project around the corner that had caused the old pipes to cave in.

It made sense to him, and to most of the people he talked to about it, but the city maintained that it was unrelated.

Now he had dug up his entire driveway, at his own expense, and replaced the entire length of pipe from the street all the way to where it entered the house. It had been a huge project, and a financial burden at first, but as he surveyed the work he had done, a smile crossed his face.

It had been more than worthwhile. There was still a bit of work to be done, but he could pay someone if he wanted to now.

The project had proved more than worthwhile. He crossed the loose packed soil and entered his house. After removing his boots, he ducked down into the basement and entered the work shop.

It was still there, the crumbling wooden case. Sometimes it seemed like it could all be a dream, but it was there, a wooden crate stuffed with silver, jewels, and antique coins.

He flicked off the light and made his way back out to the driveway.

Who would have thought that a collapsed water main could turn out to be such a great thing?

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Story-A-Day #287: Drawn Towards

DRAWN TOWARDS

Like the simple moth, newly birthed from squiggly worm, she found herself drawn towards the light. It was a fundamental flaw of global genetics.

She was not the only one, and would never be the last of her kind, and yet here she was - circling ever closer to that eternal flame.

It would be the end of her, yet she sullied forth.

Simple genetics? Why else would she pursue something along such a route?

She would because she could and would, regardless of the dangers that awaited.

She was, after all, a moth, so her yearning to head into that great light was only natural. The few drops of rain, blasting her carefully powdered wings made it that much more enticing. It would be a difficult flight, but it would be worth it.

This marked an end to the madness and an exciting new beginning.

The fact that she had been reborn once was irrelevant. This would become her new beginning.

This would be her Mea Culpa and her Carpe Diem all wrapped into one convenient cocoon.

She was sorry, but she would seize the day regardless.

And with that, she flew into the light eternal.

And it was glorious!

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