Trina: ‘In the Land of Tall Thin Shadows’

Trina liked empty cities the best and this is her best memory of New York.

She looked up, the Sun rose, partially eclipsed by a big black Moon.

Trina sat primly on the only bench on Queens Boulevard when she saw the shadow of a little boy skipping rope.

She quickly opened her journal and wrote, ‘In the land of tall thin shadows’

Then she pulled a piece of chalk from her skirts, dropped to her hands and knees, and drew a hopscotch court.

The shadow boy stopped skipping rope and came closer.

Trina stood. “Hello,” she curtsied.  “I’m Trina, and you?”

“I am a child of the Universe,” replied the shadow boy.

“I see.” Trina searched the ground for a small stone to use as a marker. “You have a right to be here?”

The shadow boy shook his head, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

Trina laughed: “Did you lose your boy?”

“I think so. Have you seen him?”

“This is my world. No one comes here, not even shadows.”

“I don’t have a right to be here?”

“Strictly speaking, no.”

Trina found a stone and tossed it onto the court.

“What happens when you vanish?” she asked.

“I don’t exist.” The shadow boy replied.

Trina was appalled. “You stop thinking?”

“I think so.”

“How awful!”

“But I always come back when the little boy goes out to play!”

“Always?”

“Yes.”

Trina reached up and hid the Sun behind her big black moon.

Queens Boulevard went black and the shadow boy was gone.

Trina was sad.

She reached into her skirts and found a torch, then she opened her journal and wrote, ‘They sleep without dreams’

An Illustration of the Shadow Boy at play in a Bird Cage in Virtual Reality
The Shadow Boy

‘In the Land of Tall Thin Shadows’ (c) Rob Goldstein, March 2019

‘Shadow Boy’ (C) Rob Goldstein March 2019

Header Image from pixabay

I wrote this for the March Speculative Fiction prompt on Myths of the Mirror. You can join here: https://mythsofthemirror.com/2019/03/01/march-speculative-fiction-prompt/

 

Hullaba Lulu: and the Women Wicky Wacky, Woo

It’s Jazz Age Wednesdays and time for Chapter 5.2 of Hullaba Lulu
on Teagan’s Books.

For this week’s video, I mixed animation with still shots and set it to
and excerpt from Nagasaki, performed in 1928 by the Ipana Troubadours.

Where are cheeseburgers as good as money?

An illustration for Hullaba Lulu on Teagan's Books that depicts a young women sitting in front of an automat vending machine surrounded by cheeseburgers
Cheeseburgers are as good as money

Jazz Age Wednesdays ― Hullaba Lulu 5.2

 

Are You Forgettin’ Why You Loved Me, Darlin’?

A must read from Living a Beautiful Life

Living a Beautiful Life

She drapes a towel over her shoulder hiding her left breast.  Rather, the vivid red scars snaking her ribcage where her left breast was carved out.

She turns to her left, enough so that she looks whole.  If she accidentally catches a glimpse of her reflection, that is.

Spraying the area with rubbing alcohol from the pump bottle — she still can’t bring herself to touch it — she switches the blow dryer to ‘low’ and dries under the towel.  Then she spritzes Vitamin E and baby oil, even though it’s a lost cause.  Those scars aren’t going anywhere.

She ties a robe loosely around her waist and shuffles to the kitchen.  Hot cereal she enjoyed from childhood might help her feel a bit better.

A shadow crosses the window making her jump.  But her imagination was playing tricks.  Nobody had been in the garden since the day he left — coincidentally, the morning…

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Civilisation

Civilization is a word for people living a civilized life, being civil. Civilization must surely mean peace

Making it write

strategies

Amidst the towering rocks and speckled sand, far beyond our village, scattered, dust-clothed debris hunkers, the meaning of each piece a mystery to be puzzled over.

The old ones tell tales that have been passed down through generations. No doubt, with each telling, some details have shrunk, while others have swelled..

They speak of a long-lost existence called civilisation; a way of being that was better than this. They say there are clues in the artefacts that rust and decay in the sun and rain. They say these are scraps of something called machine, which made life easy, and that something called electron made it fun. Furthermore, humankind once had the voices of giants, which could be heard from the place where the sun rises all the way to where it sets. They had wings to fly high up in the sky, even to the stars.

They claim that those…

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