r/WritingPrompts • u/Cody_Fox23 Skulking Mod | r/FoxFictions • Jan 09 '22

Constrained Writing [CW] Smash 'Em Up Sunday: Deaf

Welcome back to Smash ‘Em Up Sunday!

SEUSfire

On Sunday morning at 9:30 AM Eastern in our Discord server’s voice chat, come hang out and listen to the stories that have been submitted be read. I’d love to have you there! You can be a reader and/or a listener. Plus if you wrote we can offer crit in-chat if you like!

Last Week

Good. Lord. I think a ton of people made the resolution to write more. From the usual 14-18 stories we hit 36 last week. Part of the reason this post is late was just due to the three hour SEUSfire to get through them all! There was no real clear thing that we read except a lot of stories reaching wonderful descriptions and evocative experiences without relying on visual cues!

Cody’s Choices

/u/canyoufeelthat - “Turning Back the Clock” - You may not be able to go back, but you can do the next best thing.
/u/Badderlocks_ - “The Razing of Dunbree” - What a horrible night to have a curse.
/u/teaforanxiety - "Memory in Darkness" - People can withstand the harshest of conditions.

Community Choice

/u/Leebeewilly - “Space Between Space” - Commander Yrra shows why what he gave up wasn’t a sacrifice.
/u/rainbow--penguin - “Blind Date” - A literal take on an old phrase.
/u/Zetakh - “Perry the Parasite of a Perilous Planet, Part Four” - Our perspective is flipped as we enjoy Perry’s side of events.

This Week’s Challenge

As we bring in the new year I have a new challenge. This month I will be forcing you to exercise your descriptive talents. As the month goes on I hope to make you approach the world in different ways as I take something precious from you: your senses.

In week two you can have your sight back, but I’m taking your hearing. An absence of sound is the key to this week’s challenge. How will you have a story without sound? How can communication take place? Situational awareness? There are many challenges to overcome and interesting ways to convey the world.

How to Contribute

Write a story or poem, no more than 800 words in the comments using at least two things from the three categories below. The more you use, the more points you get. Because yes! There are points! You have until 11:59 PM EDT 15 January 2021 to submit a response.

After you are done writing please be sure to take some time to read through the stories before the next SEUS is posted and tell me which stories you liked the best. You can give me just a number one, or a top 5 and I’ll enter them in with appropriate weighting. Feel free to DM me on Reddit or Discord!

Category	Points
Word List	1 Point
Sentence Block	2 Points
Defining Features	3 Points

Word List

Chromatic
Unaware
Sign
Crowd

Sentence Block

I felt seperated from everyone.
What I am looking for is not out there, it is in me

Defining Features

There is a dog
No aural descriptions

What’s happening at /r/WritingPrompts?

Nominate your favourite WP authors or commenters for Spotlight and Hall of Fame! We count on your nominations to make our selections.
Come hang out at The Writing Prompts Discord! I apologize in advance if I kinda fanboy when you join. I love my SEUS participants <3 Heck you might influence a future month’s choices!
Want to help the community run smoothly? Try applying for a mod position. Everytime you ban someone, the number tattoo on your arm increases by one!

I hope to see you all again next week!

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u/Ninjoobot Jan 16 '22

I sit on the hard ground under the shade of a tree, huddled over myself because I don't know what else to do. Most of the people wander by without noticing my existence and those that do move away without trying to hide their disgust. I look up hoping to catch a glance, but I never catch an eye for more than fleeting moment. Perhaps what I am looking for is not out there, it is in me. But I don't even know who I am anymore.

I used to have it all - at least, I thought I did. A nice house, a warm bed, and all the food I could eat. But I was lonely, so very lonely. I had everything I could ask for, but I felt separated from everyone. So I left.

I still have no one, but now I also have nothing. I'm left begging for scraps and thanking even the pigeons that drop me morsels on accident, for not even they take pity on me. The kindest eyes look the other way as if there's a glowing sign above me warning the world that I'm useless, dedicating its chromatic existence to enlightening the unaware crowd to the fact that I am to be ignored and consigned to a cold concrete bed for the rest of my days.

But there is hope! A woman with kind eyes stops and looks at me. I perk up, returning the gaze. She approaches and I force my frozen joints to stand. She pulls a long, cylindrical piece of meat from her purse and feeds it to me. It's exquisite. She hesitates before putting her hand on my head and the gently pats it before scratching behind my left ear. My left leg starts to move on its own, taking me by surprise and almost knocking me off my feet. It's embarrassing, but somehow I don't mind. I cozy up to her legs and wag my tail. I know tonight I'll be dining with a new friend and it brings me joy.

u/gdbessemer Jan 16 '22 edited Jan 19 '22

Shadow in the Wavelength, part 1

Even through the gentle fog of theta-wave sleep, Brody could sense the moment the team closed the somsuit. As he’d done a dozen times before, he isolated the feeling of total isolation, kind of like playing a reverse card in Uno. It was a psychological trick, didn’t actually do anything, but like a lot of good tricks the human brain believed it anyway and relaxed. Brody let the drugs do their work to carry him down into the operational wavelength, just a hair above delta.

<Noticed a hypnic jerk there. Feel anything odd? - Marsten>

He thought back through the synaptic buffer. <Same as always. - Brody>

<How’s that? Haven’t completed the course yet. - Marsten>

<Just like an astronaut floating in space, looking back at the Earth. I felt separated from everyone. - Brody>

Bleedover emotions from others were one of the many side effects of the psychotropic cocktail they gave dream divers. During initial trials while they were still trying to get the dosage right, Brody had a few moments where he’d literally been able to read minds. The first time it happened a crowd of doctors burst in to get a look. The sheer weight of their combined thoughts caused some minor hemorrhaging in Brody’s frontal lobe. The team solved that problem with the lead-lined somsuits, which let the diver focus solely on the patient’s dreams.

<Ok, at OW. 2.1 Hz. Prepped the umbilical. - Marsten>

<The patient? - Brody>

<No change. Parasite location unconfirmed. ETTD 60 minutes. - Marsten>

It was down to the wire. Incredible that Martsen and the team had managed to get the patient suited up in time. Must be someone important. Brody steeled himself for the dive. He had an hour to find the parasite and capture it before it killed the patient.

<Brody…if it starts getting bad in there I want you to get out asap. - Marsten>

<Worried about me, Jen? I won’t end up like Sewell. - Brody>

There was a pause. <Time’s wasting, Dr. Marsten. Open the umbilical. - Brody>

<Follow procedure. - Marsten>

<We don’t have time for this–<Repeat the damned rules, Brody! - Martsten> - Brody>

The buffer glitched and hit Brody with a wave of nausea. In his mind Brody had no teeth to grit but the sensation was the same. <Check my watch. Find a guide. More than three, leave the dream. - Brody>

<Opening umbilical. Good luck in there. - Marsten>

Suddenly he could feel the patient. In the real world, Marsten and team had just opened the cord connecting their suits. The patient’s mind was burning bright with fever, unaware that it was dying. It smelled of a long sickness.

Brody crouched, then leapt through the cord and into the chromatic pool of light spilling from the patient and he

was standing in the middle of a town square. It looked like a pure slice of Americana with brick storefronts, white-washed wood rails everywhere, and no building taller than two stories high. Festive blue banners hung from the eaves of windows, though the writing on them was gibberish as usual. Writing relied mostly on the language parts in Broca’s area, which wasn’t active in sleep.

Brody looked at his watch. 00:57:48 left. Time worked weirdly in dreams, so the first rule they set up was to check your watch. It was linked to a chip in the diver’s brain that output the mission time, and was one of the only things you could rely on in the malleable reality of someone else’s dream. Divers had the ability to alter their surroundings but could never out-wrestle the patient in a straight up contest.

A golden retriever came out of the diner on the corner, padding across the cracked asphalt. Brody knelt down to pet it and smiled. The dog wagged its tail and ran back into the diner.

A literal guide dog. It gave Brody some hope that maybe this one would turn out okay after all.

Inside the cool air of the diner the dog sat on the checkered linoleum floor, at the feet of a man in a blue suit. Brown, wrinkled hands held an unfolded newspaper that concealed his face. On the wall behind him was a sign. Brody was shocked to find he could read it.

WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR IS NOT OUT THERE, IT IS IN ME.

It wasn’t writing, but some kind of core ideal of the patient. Brody cross the floor, past the rows of empty booths and stools. The dog looked back and forth from Brody to the man, agitated.

Brody pulled down the newspaper to see what was behind it. He felt a spike of fear.

The man had five eyes on his face.

WC: 783

To be continued in part 2!

u/vibrantcomics Jan 16 '22

304: Chapter 1

Over the skies of Oddroimgard

The morning sky was a harmonious dichotomy of overpowering orange and crimson blending with subdued grey as clouds morphed into various playful forms.

Looking out, D had a bird's eye view from the helicopter. The city landscape stretched on. Pillars of smoke rose. Flashing shells blazed through the sky. Sulphur irritated the nose.

A flimsy sign kept beating D's face. Catching it, he observed another sign below. He first read the belligrent sign.

Always believe in our leader! You shall survive anything!

D turned and observed everyone holding their own personal 'leader charm' tight. Then, he saw the obscured sign, 3 rules of air safety in combat.

1.) Never fly straight

2.) Blast loud music

3.) Wear seatbelts

D put the sign back in place and went to sleep. The overwhelming smell of smoke jerked him up. His eyes struggled to endure the wall of black, noxious smoke. On each side, glowing missiles missed them by mere inches. Yet, the pilot continued to go straight.

By now everyone was trembling in fear. Experienced in nothing, the pilot flew in a straight line. This, he believed, would bambozzle his enemies.

A projectile hit the helicopter's fuel tank. Bull's eye. The helicopter expired in a blaze of discount glory amidst the smoke. The pilot's dreams of medals, dashed.

D flew through the air. Some feet down, he landed on a battered terrace. Getting up and nursing his wounds, he saw a chromatic black dog.

In the midst of all this absurd destruction. Something about dog attracted D. He ran with down the stairs and out into the streets. Soon they came to an apartment building. They ran up the stairs before stopping. D wondered what was the holdup when the dog ran.

He turned and saw an enemy soilder, gun on the ready. Fear gripped D as the enemy prepared to shoot. Then he fell dead, helmet rolling downwards.

A mysterious figure walked down. D was suspicious. The figure got closer and closer, revealing it was a middle aged man. He produced a pistol and handed it to D. Then he went upstairs.

Seeing no other choice, and also seeing that the man had been helpful, he followed him.

u/dewa1195 Jan 16 '22 edited Jan 16 '22

*This story is a continuation of the previous week's story which can be found here

New Beginnings

Inky black tendrils wrapped around him catching him unaware. He tried pulling away from them, but they wrapped around him tighter, choking his breath out of his lungs, blocking his airways. There was a light out of the corner of his eyes and suddenly he was free, as a sword cut through the tendrils and the brightness leaking from the sword vaporised the black malevolence.

The rest of the tendrils reared back and tried striking again when the ground vibrates with the latent magic. He glanced around rapidly noticing that they were all in the right spots. Bringing out the grimoire, he began chanting. Five different lights coalesced around the Malevolence, forming a bright cage.

As Raz continued chanting the cage of light started condensing. Just as everything settled down, the cage burst. The darkness surrounded and—

Raz sat up, dislodging the heavy weight of Bruno on his stomach. The dog scrambled and pushed back into him giving him kisses.

Absently rubbing him behind his ears, he thought back to the dream—no, nightmare. This was the fourth time this week he’d dreamt of this. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the malevolence still existed.

Bruno's tail wagged rapidly, pulling Raz's attention to him.

You’ll be okay, his eyes seemed to say.

Raz smiled. Bruno had been with him for over three years now and had stuck to him of all people in this estate. Taking care of him had been difficult with the job he’d held before, but they’d both survived.

Glancing at the clock, he groaned noting it was almost time to meet with the elders.

After grabbing a quick shower, he took Bruno to the kitchen leaving him with his younger siblings to watch over. Stealing a sandwich from Marilyn's plate, Raz walked away and blocked the bag of rice thrown at him with a spell. He sensed her frustration and the amusement of the crowd at his back, he laughed and continued on his way chewing on the sandwich.

He turned right in the hallway and spotted Catherine–beautiful eyes now in a blindfold–being led on by the young ones, seemingly happy with this state of affairs. Knowing how much Cathy had relied on her eyes, Raz couldn’t help but wonder if their Goddess was cruel.

Ever since waking up, deafness had been his constant companion. His life as a stealth mage, relying on his hearing to gather information, were long since over. Gaia had taken away his primary skill and he was more than happy for it. Taking this as a sign, he easily gave up the position and continued helping the others.

He sped and came to a stop before them. The young ones flinched at his sudden appearance.

He felt separated from everyone now, as no one knew what they could say to him. That was fine. He never had as many friends. His job had kept him away for so long, he’d been okay with it.

The littlest one poked him in the stomach, pulling him away from his dreadfully pathetic thoughts. She took a deep breath and waved both her index fingers.

Polychromatic lines floated in the air, forming words, I’m taking sister Cathy to the elder. She’s asking you if you were going there too.

He smiled and nodded. The little girl beamed. Placing Cathy’s hand in his, she left in a whirlwind.

Raz stared at the hand and Cathy for several moments before he noticed the quivering of her shoulders and her other placed strategically over her mouth. Seeing people laugh was fascinating now.

“Cathy,” he said.

He felt a single tap on his hand, he was in the clear then.

Brilliant light exploded into the air before them, the words forming, yes, Raz?

“Do you think the rest of them will wake up?”

I do. You woke up after all, the lights drew.

His eyes pricked as he stared down, not ready to look at his once-leader. They’d been different people then, had never run in the same circles until battle plans had been drawn. A squeeze pulled his attention to her anyway. The gentle smile on her face was breath-taking.

Let’s go now, we don’t want the elders to complain, do we? a teasing grin pulled at her lips.

It struck him like lightning.

All his life, he’d been searching for something, listening to everything. Whatever he’d been looking for hadn’t been out there, maybe it was in him. It was time to, perhaps, to look close to home.

wc: 752

for old stuff: r/dewa_stories.

u/thegoodpage Jan 16 '22 edited Jan 16 '22

My breathing grows heavier as I take another right turn, the damp, tart smell of the air stinging my nose. By now, my eyes have adjusted to the ominous orangish glow of the place, but no matter where I run, the walls still look the same; covered in a mass of wilting, half-dead vines and splatters of dark stains. I shuddered, pushing away my theories on how they got there.

I touch my left earplug lightly, drawing a sliver of relief, even though I would have dropped dead by now without them anyway. Tangible reassurance helps, I guess.

A familiar monochromatic blue shimmers across my vision.

Mel: anything, anyone?

I shake my head, which was immediately transmitted as a yellow “no”. Jessie and Aria respond similarly.

Mel: starting to think what we’re looking for is not out there, but within us or some shit like that.

Aria: dunno, but I’m ready to rejoin. this place is creeping me out.

I nod and minimize the chat with a flick of my eyes, refocusing on the long corridor ahead. Though my body ached, I pick up pace. I don’t like the feeling of being separated from everyone at all.

But we had decided to split to cover more ground; the labyrinth was too big. Now, we could hopefully piece together a map, corner by corner from the each of us. The chip ingrained in our brains had the ability to do that.

Another pulsing, but inconsistent vibration passes through the floor beneath me and my heart pounds even more aggressively than before. A stray vine scraped the side of my face, causing me to jerk sideways.

I clench my fists tighter as another wave of uneasiness washes over me. Instinctively, I whip my head to see behind me. There was a glimpse of something of multiple legs scurrying over the top and through the leaves. I was too afraid to look again.

Suddenly, I see a red flash.

Jessie: uh, guys. there’s a little girl here.

Mel: what? get away from her!

Jessie: she’s crying.

Aria: just ignore, man.

I nodded.

Me: yes

I half stare at the chat, half at the fork ahead, where the walls curved into two directions.

No red responds.

Me: Jessie?

Mel: Jess, what’s going on?

Jessie: she’s crying.

Mel: get away right now. it’s all mind games here, you know that.

Jessie: she looks so… terrified.

Mel: Jessie…

Panic clams my throat.

I pull up the friends location tracker, and see a red 50 meters hover by her name. The number doesn’t fluctuate like the rest of ours. Fuck.

I start sprinting, making lefts and rights instinctively, trusting the chip and my legs. There’s a bad taste in my mouth.

21 meters

Jessie: maybe the sounds are getting to her

Mel: she’s not real

Jessie: she is

The distance count flickers, as if connection was momentarily lost even though that’s not possible. My blood runs cold.

10 meters

After another bend, I see a familiar silhouette with a long ponytail, frozen in spot. Against the opposite wall, a little girl wearing a dirtied and tattered dress.

Me: Jessie!

She doesn’t turn.

The girl is indeed crying and babbling something, her small fingers clutching a stuffed dog by the neck. The more I look at it, the more I feel like something’s amiss, like someone got all the proportions just slightly wrong. One of its button eyes droops by a thread.

Jessie kneels down, closer to the girl.

Me: Jessie. stop

Jessie: I don’t know why I just

It disappears for another moment. I notice Jessie’s hands move upwards. The girl is holding the stuffed dog to her face.

Me: no, Jessie. don’t

She shows no signs that she’s reading.

Me: no no no. Jessie, think about what you’re doing

5 meters

Me: there’s something wrong with her. Don-

She rips her earplugs out.

Me: NO!

Immediately, her mouth opens. Her face contorts with it, lines around her mouth deepening. The muscles of her neck are taut and protruding. She twists towards me and my eyes meet hers that scream of pain.

She topples to the floor.

Nonononono

Abruptly, the girl is now staring directly at me. My body freezes, as if I am in someone’s unyielding grip, and something sinister flashes across her eyes. Then I tear myself away and I’m running, fear clutching my chest.

11 meters

34 meters

62 meters

Finally, I focus on blue and green crowding across my view.

Mel: hello??

Mel: GUYS

Aria: ????

As I’m composing myself to reply, I almost crash into Mel, who embraces me tightly. I try to focus on her sweet-scented shampoo mingled with sweat, and the rough edges of her backpack.

But I still see, from the corner of my eye, the red distance count blinking out.

---

WC: 800

Thanks for reading! Sorta trying something here, don't know what to make of it lol. Feedback welcome :) If you liked that, feel free to check out r/thegoodpage for more!

2

u/rainbow--penguin Jan 16 '22

Great worldbuilding with all the tech, and a great idea for communicating without sound.
This was really creepy, and you built up the tension so well. The numbers for distance worked so well for that. I particularly loved the line about everything being slightly wrong and out of proportion. It really set me on edge. Great story!

2

u/thegoodpage Jan 17 '22

Hey Rainbow! Thank you so much for the encouraging words, I appreciate it :) I was pretty unsure about this one so this was helpful, and I'm glad you thought it worked.

u/DmonRth Jan 15 '22 edited Jan 16 '22

The Impossible

I knew I’d fucked up before the blood oozed out of my ears. In an instant, one-fifth of my world disappeared. I ripped the headset off and threw it across the room in a vain attempt to, I guess, reverse time. But the damage was done, I was deaf. I hurriedly pushed aside empty energy drinks, and a half-eaten bag of chips to verify with my eyes what my mind feared, and there at the bottom right hand side of my screen was the antivirus icon, a red circle with a strike through over it.

I’d forgotten to renew my protection.

I went through the five stages of denial faster than a therapist can open a notebook, but my body was slow on the uptake, so I sat shaking in my chair, as the shifting chromatic lights of my rig washed over me. I stared at the interdictory circle, mind reeling at the absurdity of it all.

Two years ago, failing to renew would have resulted in pop-ups, trojan viruses, or key loggers, with a possible chance at identity theft. But those days were gone, thanks to some asshat who found a way to pass actual bioweapon like viruses through the internet. The first one, named Cr33pyNkle, caused an eye twitch and a runny nose. Fortunately, no one thought it was funny, except maybe the group that came up with it, and shit got serious real quick. Everything was shut down, locked down, and the creators were run down, but even though they received a lifetime of two hots and a cot, the groundwork was out in the aether, and as things go, the balance between safety and panic yo-yoed back and forth while the cats and mice that understand these things fought for control.

Despite the possible dangers and consequences, there was always somewhere for money to be made. Instead of a worldwide protection network, filters at nodes, or whatever else that could be done, we ended up with the rugged individualism outcome with each person responsible to protect themselves, because why not? The internet is technically optional.

I should shoulder some of the blame for that part since I was in the camp that didn’t care how it got hashed out as long as things got back to normal sooner rather than later. But at the time paying a few bucks a month didn’t bother me any, especially since I was not the type to miss payments.

I was circling back to stage four, depression, when Whisper nudged my elbow. Usually, a hundred pounds of German shepherd doesn’t get to sneak up on people unaware, but thanks to Acoustmenot that impossibility was now possible. As I looked into her eyes and rubbed the sides of her face with both hands, I focused on that thought, and a sliver of hope sprung to life.

I looked around my room taking in all the other once impossible things. Electricity, running water, a toilet, the computer itself. I moved from my gaming chair to my lounger and picked up my reading device. A whole world of books in the palm of my hand. I smiled, giddy, and reminded myself that the impossible is temporary and circumstantial. Somewhere someone would lick this problem and life would go back to normal for me. Until then I’d enjoy a different hobby.

I flipped on the device and scrolled through and downloaded what I was in the mood for. I read the first line of Dante’s Inferno, then everything went black.

“Well. Shit.”

600ish/800

i love crit

old stuff: r/dmonrth

Note: I missed blind week but was there in spirit, so that last bit is to prove it .

1

u/throwthisoneintrash Jan 16 '22

This was a fun ride. I love how the dystopian feel is offset by the character's resigned attitude to it, making it both funny and terrifying. Well done!

2

u/rainbow--penguin Jan 16 '22

As I'm coming to expect with your stories, the voice of the piece was very distinct which I always enjoy. The description of the emotion at the beginning was great, it was really visceral and I liked the format of telling the story as the person dealt with their loss.
Loved the moment of sweetness with the dog, and how it was a bit of a turning point in their mental state.
That ending did catch me out though.
Great job.

u/throwthisoneintrash Jan 15 '22 edited Jan 15 '22

Gurdao Beach

WC 732

Chuck’s black fur refracted the setting sun’s rays into a chromatic mantle as he tore through miles of sand, sniffing at the lazy waves that reached for the shore. I tried to keep up, but I was no sprinter. He shot off towards the busy area of the beach, right into the crowd.

I waved at him to no avail. Then I shoved two fingers into my mouth and exhaled violently, the way Daddy taught me when I was five years old. Nothing. The dog was nowhere to be seen.

Despite the warning signs posted everywhere, Gurdao Beach was a haven for party-goers in the evening. I saw the flicker of multiple forbidden flames spark to life as I weaved through the sea of dancing bodies and confusing shadows.

The perfect sand was a draw for these crowds, as was the salty air. It was a gorgeous beach, and the deaths from the infamous undertow in the water were so few and far-between that police no longer made efforts to stop the wild parties. It was as if they liked having that element quarantined on the beach instead of rolling through town.

As an added bonus, the sunsets were spectacular. I had wanted to sit down and enjoy the fading light with my buddy, but he seemed to have other ideas. My normally skittish dog dove head-first into that world I so often avoided.

I was invited to some of the beach parties, the people there weren’t usually bad people while they were sober. But in those scenarios I always felt separated from everyone else. They tried to make concessions for me, but it was just easier if I stayed back. I was an introvert, anyway.

When I finally found him, Chuck had landed on the lap of the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She stroked his fur and patted him as if she had known him all her life. He was soaking up the pets, completely unaware of my presence.

I pointed at him and the girl replied by drawing a line in the air from Chuck to me, as if to ask if he was mine. I nodded.

One of the guys sitting around their fire stood and moved his mouth in a way I found hard to read. I managed to catch “she can’t hear”, so I turned to her and signed “ASL?”.

Her eyes lit up, and we talked for hours after that. She had some shorthand signs that I had to get used to, but we joked about that too. I stayed there until the sun had disappeared and the fire died down too low to see her words.

I thought it was over, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. I turned on my phone and typed “Wow”, only to regret it a second later. I was like a child, but I was a child in love. Her hand on my shoulder wavered and I turned to see the brightness of laughter in her eyes.

Alexis became the closest person to me in the coming year. I got to know her friends too, and it changed the way I saw things. There were some good people out there. Not everyone was trying to make a joke at my expense.

But she was incredible. Her heart and mine seemed so in sync that we sometimes didn’t bother signing and just looked into each other’s eyes long enough to understand one another’s thoughts. My heart was full. The love I felt for her only grew as I discovered more of her personality.

I still took walks down the shoreline, Chuck running ahead while Alexis and I walked slowly, hand-in-hand. I realized that what I was looking for was not out there, in some new job or hobby, but it was in me. It was that burning sense of desire for what I already had. A feeling of camaraderie that transcended what I thought love was. It was belonging to someone else, and having them belong to you. Separate, distinct, yet inseparable and joined together.

One evening, while we sat on a piece of driftwood and enjoyed a sunset together. I scratched Chuck’s neck under his collar and looked down at that brilliant coat of fur. I owed all of this to my buddy.

Man’s best friend indeed.

r/TheTrashReceptacle

3

u/ThePinkTeenager Jan 16 '22

I have no words, just 😍.

2

u/throwthisoneintrash Jan 16 '22

Aww, thank you!

u/EdsMusings Jan 15 '22

The musings of a bard, part 5

(don't worry, it's an anthology series, you don't need to know what happened in the previous parts)

"Oh hey there. Some of you weren't expecting my return. Some of you don't know who I am. That's fair. Listen, I'm going to introduce myself very briefly. I should be up on stage any minute now.

I'm Ed. Some people like to refer to me as The Bard. All you need to know about me is that I like music and I like helping people. And I've been doing both those things for a while now.

Let me check my watch. It's currently 11am on August 18th 1969."

The guy on stage puts down his guitar and walks off-stage, towards me. The crowd is too tired after 3 long days filled with music.

"Jimi, my guy, you did great." I shake his hand.

"Ed, dude, you weren't kidding. I should do more shreds in chromatic, the people loved it." Jimi has a lot of sweat on his face, but he seems unaware of that fact.

I turn towards you. "Oh yeah, that's the real Jimi Hendrix. He and I go way back. I taught him how to play his first chords."

Jimi raises his hand to give me a peace sign and walks away. "Hey Ed, I gotta go. You take care, man. Crowd's not looking too awake."

I take a deep breath and walk on-stage. There doesn't appear to be much activity in the audience, aside from one dog who's frantically running around. Most of them want to go home, I think. Totally understandable.
I plug in my electric lute and begin playing.

***

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have signed up last. Bit of a misjudgement." I walk to the backstage after my set is done. It's mostly empty, besides some crew members who're taking away the furniture. I open the fridge. Two beers. I grab one and sit down on the last remaining couch.

"This is good, y'know. Nobody around. That means I can do some explaining to you.

There was a time in my life where I felt seperated from everyone. I had a sudden breakdown. I just couldn't handle the pressure that was on me, pressure that I put there. I saw friends going away, living great lives without me. It took a toll on me.

So I went to parties. I became absolutely wasted. A hobo, set for immortality by who knows what, who knows why. It was the first time in my life where I began questioning my existence. I tried contacting whoever must've made me. No response. It was devastating.

But I got back around. In the heights of Nepal, deep in the Himalaya, I came to a realization. The answers I was looking for weren't out there, they're in me. Well, they're not in me, because they are me. I was created by me, for me.

I've probably lost half of you, so let me recap. I'm Ed, The Bard. I know no age, no origin. I like music and helping people. That's all I know, and that's all I needed to know. Yeah, I know, a bit cliché. Look, I mostly just wanted to talk to you because I wanted to see Cody's reaction. Now that I did that, I think I'm just gonna stick around. Maybe I'll come back, who knows."

Two crew members walk in. "Sir, if you could please stand up, we have to remove that couch."

"Yeah, no problem, dude. Let me help you." I lift up one end of the couch.

The crew members pick up the other side and we start walking out the door.

I take a final look at you. "You're doing great. Until we meet again."

2

u/sch0larite Jan 15 '22

Love the meta nature >.<
But, for real, keeping the first-person present tense POV is super hard and you nailed it. This felt like watching a band documentary. I somehow even saw it in my head with the red recording dot in the corner. Nice work!

2

u/EdsMusings Jan 15 '22

Thank you, I was worried that it might feel too jarring

u/ThePinkTeenager Jan 15 '22 edited Jan 16 '22

I woke up and hopped out of bed. Normally, I was more reluctant, but today was special.

My dog greeted me outside my bedroom door. “Good morning, Russell.” I signed. “Wait. I’ll feed you in a minute.”

I poured dog food into his bowl. While he devoured it, I made my own breakfast.

I felt a hand my shoulder and turned around. It was my boyfriend. Until now, I’d been unaware of his presence.

“Good morning.” he said.

“Good morning. Want some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

I cracked another egg into the pan. It bubbled at the edges. Keeping one eye on the pan, I talked to my boyfriend.

“Should we eat lunch before or after we get to the fair?”

“I was thinking before, but we’ll eat dinner at the fair.”

“Good idea. And don’t forget to bring cash.”

“Right. We don’t want a repeat of last year, do we?”

I giggled. “No.”

After lunch, we went to the fair. We were spending the day with a few mutual friends, all of whom knew at least basic ASL. We met them outside the gate. I stood across from everyone so I could see their mouths.

“What should we do first?” asked Lucy in both speech and sign.

"“Rides.”" I said while two others answered verbally.

Lucy smiled. “That was easy.”

Some time later, we went to the Zipper. I refused to go on it, so I stayed on the ground. Then I had to use the bathroom. When I came back, my group was nowhere to be found.

I scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar faces. I didn’t see them. I couldn’t ask a stranger for help because of my Deafness. I felt separated from everyone.

Where are you? I texted.

No response. I’d have to wait.

The other problem was that I was hungry. Food vendors were everywhere, but they probably didn’t know ASL. I could neither hear nor speak to them.

Nervously, I walked up to one of the food trucks. When a vendor noticed me, I pulled out my phone and started typing.

Hello, ma’am. I’m Deaf. I can lip read, but not speak. May I have a corn dog and a small lemonade?

The woman nodded and disappeared into the back of the food truck. A few minutes later, she returned with my food. Then she held up fingers to indicate the price. Luckily, I’d already done the math.

“Thank you.” I gave her the money and took my food.

I stood nearby and ate. The corn dog was delicious. I had ordered and paid for it myself. I realized that what I was seeking was not out there, but inside me. That was where the road to success lay.

I got a message from my boyfriend. By the cows was all it said. I got up and went toward the area where the animals were.

When I saw them, I waved.

“Where’d you go?” asked my boyfriend.

“Bathroom.” I explained. “I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m glad we’re together now.”

“Me too.”

We spent the next few hours enjoying the rides, the animals, the gardens, the art, and the food.

By the time we left, it was dusk. The rides lit up in a chromatic harmony.

“Those rides look amazing!” I said.

My friend nodded.

I went on one of the higher rides to take pictures. The display looked even better up here.

I got off the ride and went to my group.

“Should we go home now?” asked my boyfriend. “I’m tired.”

“Yes.” I turned to the others. “Goodbye everyone. See you later.”

They waved.

My boyfriend and I got in the car. It had been a long day, but a rewarding one.

u/sch0larite Jan 15 '22 edited Jan 15 '22

Mona Lisa

They all looked so…monotone.

I miss the 80s - the latest ones. The visitors wore a lot of neon back then. On Fridays, the museum stayed open late and couples came to drink and dance. My favorite was when they came back, years later, with their babies. I always recognized them.

A camera flashed and my eyes threatened to water. It made me want to sneeze, but I’d have to hold it until they all left. Another two hours. The security guard hopped up to have words with the man with the camera. A tiny black box in his hands - how do they keep making them smaller?

The crowd thinned as closing time neared. This was my favorite part of the day, the twilight. It was an undefined time, nestled between the afternoon rush and the darkness of night, and so it was peaceful. There were no expectations of what it should be.

People come from all over the world to see me. Sometimes, their faces light up with joy at a dream finally accomplished, a status attained. But, more often than not, all I see is disappointment. I’m smaller than they expected. Less interesting. I’ve got fewer colors. They don’t realize that they didn’t come to see me, but my legend. A myth.

A few of them take a second look and I can see sparks of curiosity. They leave changed - not in the way they thought they would be, but a bit more open-minded. I’m always looking out for those faces. I want to see the impact I’ve made, no matter how small.

There are no windows in this hall - my old lines couldn’t take the ultraviolet. The chroma’s been bleeding from my face for centuries, but they do their best to restore it. I panicked the first time, thought it would mean I wasn’t me anymore. But then I learned from one of the schoolchildren that humans replace all their cells every seven years. Seven! I’m myself for much longer than that, at least.

I’ve watched the guard grow old for decades. He sits on a little stool under the sign for Salle des États. He takes care of all the paintings, but he’s always made the biggest fuss over me. I didn’t like that at first. It made me feel separated from everyone. But, then, I understood it for what it was: love.

He’s gotten shorter over the years, his suits fitting looser and the cap tilting more on his head. His patience has thinned with his hair. The only time I’ve seen him smile in years was when he came in on his day off with his dog. She was a little, white, curly-haired thing. I don’t think the museum allows animals, but they remained unaware. The children gawked and petted her rather than notice the paintings. He stood there and smiled and stared at me. It was almost like he was saying, hey, Mona, I see you, but do you see me?

I thought I loved him back. I’d feel a rush when he entered the room for his shift and a coldness when he left. After closing, I’d think about the soft lines of his face and the way his belly moved when he laughed.

But then I’d think about those couples dancing, and holding hands, and coming back with a family. The way they would stand looking at me, leaning in the same ways, like they were all brushstrokes from the same painting. I could never have that matching-set kind of love.

What I was looking for was not out there; it is in me. I was meant to be an observer. I watch the world turn and evolve, and, by the end, I’ll understand humanity better than it knows itself. One day, I’ll find a way to reflect it back. I’ll help them grow.

It’s the least I could do, for all these years of memories.

---

WC: 658 // Feedback greatly appreciated; this was a weird one :)

u/katpoker666 Jan 14 '22

‘Whitey and Sparky’

—-

The colony’s tunnels wound on without end. Wherever I went, beady dark eyes stared back at me.

In a monochromatic world, I stood out like a sore thumb. Born leucistic, I was like an albino without pink eyes. I felt separate from everyone—Whitey the weird, loner girl.

Our people gathered in the main tunnel with its walls worn smooth with years of use.

The great Molina stood up on her hind legs. Five-and-a-half years old, my grandmother had seen it all—floods, poison, cat infestation, and so much more. Yet today, she seemed worried.

“My fellow moles, I fear the time has come where after these many years, we may need to move.”

All eyes were on her, their tiny pinpricks wide.

“The new dog’s a menace. Its constant desecration of our tunnels cannot stand, or all will be lost.”

Backs bristled with enraged fur.

“This is an outrage.”

“Kill the beast.”

Molina held up a paw. “It won’t be easy. Our numbers are great, but our size is small. We must work together.”

“Even with the Mulligans and the McGees?”

“Indeed—we need all our numbers to succeed.”

Moles stared at each other in apparent disbelief. The clan rivalries were strong.

“I ask now that my war room cabinet gather in Tunnel A6-B.”

Dutifully, I and six other more seasoned moles assembled before Molina.

“Why is she here? Far too young.”

“My decision stands,” Molina glared at the offender with a look that brooked no reply. “Now, if I may continue?”

The group nodded, whiskers quivering.

“It’s digging up our tunnels and burying bones everywhere. We need a plan to defeat the slobbering menace.”

“How can we fight something so big? It must weigh at least two hundred moles—“

“What if we moved its bones somewhere else? Dogs are supposed to be smart, right—“

Molina gave a sign to the crowd to stop talking. “Granddaughter, you’ve been quiet. What do you think?”

I paused and stepped back. “Do we know what the dog wants?”

“Why would we care to know that, child?”

“Professor Molesworth said in our strategy class that to know a creature’s reasons for doing something is the key to unlocking a solution.”

“How’s that book learnin’ gonna help us here?”

“That’s no way to speak to my granddaughter. However, I fail to see how we might do this, Whitey?”

“I took two years of intermediate canine in college. Not fluent, but I can converse. Want me to try?” I shuffled from foot-to-foot, wondering if my idea was insane. Looking at Grandmother, I awaited her response.

Her face grave, Molina nodded. “So be it. You will need a guard of the finest mole warriors, of course—“

“That might seem like a challenge which dogs hate. I think it would be better if I go alone—“

“Whitey—I won’t hear of it! The guard will accompany you but hidden at a reasonable distance.”

“I—“

“—Will obey if you want to do this.”

Two hours later and I ventured into the blinding sunlight of dusk. I squinted. The giant, white and black blob was the dog. I scurried forward on my star-shaped paws—great for digging, not so much for grass.

The dog spied me and came to greet me—teeth bared.

“I… I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d like to talk.”

Its tail wagged. “You speak canine? Incredible—your accent is perfect. How did a mole learn such a thing?”

“I learned it at school.”

“Astonishing.”

“What’s your name? Mine’s Whitey.”

“I’m Sparky. Why are you white? I thought moles were grey.”

“Just a freak thing with my melanin. The other moles think I’m weird.”

“Not at all—I’m pale too, and we’re both beautiful.” The dog licked my face gently. “You remind me of my pups. They get caught up in what other dogs think too sometimes.”

“Thanks, Sparky—that means a lot.”

“So I know you didn’t come to make a new friend, Whitey, although I hope we can be that. What can I do for you?”

“I do too.” I paused. “It’s our tunnels. We have to live there, and when you bury your bones there, they get messed up. As it is, we constantly have to fix them.”

“Ah. That is an issue. The yard’s rocky, and your tunnels are the only easy place to store them. My paws are too big to do it. I wish I could help.”

“The rest of the yard is no trouble for us to dig. What if we dug up a nice area for you to use?”

“That’s perfect. I shall call you ‘Whitey the Wise.’” Sparky smiled.

And then, I realized that while I appreciated her kind words, over time, I’d taken the moles’ insults to heart. What I’m looking for is not out there, it is in me.

—-

WC: 796

—-

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always very much appreciated

u/rainbow--penguin Jan 13 '22 edited Jan 16 '22

Soulmates

Clasping the mug in both hands, I sniffed at the thick, purple liquid. The acrid scent of sulphur hit the back of my throat, making my eyes water. I'd hoped that the beech and lavender would do a better job of masking the flavour, but it was too late now. I pinched my nose and tossed the potion down my throat, trying to avoid letting it linger on my tongue. A tingling invaded my mouth before trickling down to my stomach. I closed my eyes and braced as it began to burn, radiating through me in waves. Losing control, I felt body collapse backwards onto the bed, while I remained where I was.

I took a moment to marvel in the feeling of release that came of being in the astral plane. No longer bound to my physical form, I felt separated from everyone and everything. And yet I had never been more connected -- truly in sync with my spirit, my life force, my magic. It was glorious.

Clearing my mind, I began to draw on my new senses. Though I could no longer see or hear the physical world around me in the traditional sense, my true awareness of it was heightened. I could feel the ebb and flow of life. The way some people's spirits resonated with others. The surge of power all around.

I began to build up a picture of the world: vivid and tinged with chromatic aberrations, auras of power where people should be. But what I was looking for was not out there, it was in me. Looking inward, I focused on my soul, searching for the pull of another.

And there it was, like a strand tugging at my very self, leading me towards the one who would complete me. Drawing on a small amount of my life force, I used the power to push off, following the thread.

I skimmed across the world. Through barren landscapes, dark and desolate, almost completely drained of the light of life. Through crowds of people unaware of my presence. Through forests so full of life the aura of power from them was almost blinding. All the while searching for a sign that I was close.

The connection was stronger now, clearer, and my spirit pulsed with excitement. But something else was encroaching on my senses: several darker presences, devoid of all life force - spectres, searching for something to consume.

Drawing on more of my power, I pushed off harder in a desperate bid to escape them, but they matched my pace with ease. This was, after all, their place.

The landscape rushing past was indistinct now, with the spectres overwhelming my awareness of everything else. Everything apart from the single strand that connected me to the one I searched for. As they closed in around me, my spirit pulsed with the electric tingle of fear. I sent a wave of force outwards in all directions, knocking them back, but they regrouped. I tried again, harder this time, all the while pushing myself as fast as I could.

Soon, my reserves began to feel depleted. With no connection to the physical world, I had only my own life force to draw on. Perhaps it was enough to escape them, but what then? If I consumed it all I was dead anyway.

They were closing in on me now, getting closer every second. The tip of a black tendril grazed me as one reached out, sending a jolt of emptiness through me.

Some things were worse than death, I decided, pushing myself off with everything I had left. As I did, the pull on my soul grew stronger and stronger. Until it stopped.

I jerked to a halt, reeling at the sudden change in pace, as I reached out to the spirit I'd been searching for. The spirit that resonated with mine. Power coursed through me, flowing freely between us, reinvigorating me. Drawing on our combined energy, I sent out a wave of force more powerful than I had thought possible, the shadowy forms of the spectres dissipating in its wake.

Now safe, I reached out once more to the kindred spirit. Our life force pulsing in harmony, I called it to follow. Together, we flew through the astral plane. Together, we flew home.

Back in my body, I winced at the remnants of fire coursing through my veins. Sitting up, I opened my eyes onto the small, plain room. Everything was just as I'd left it, apart from the Chocolate Labrador sitting proudly at the foot of my bed. Ignoring the protestations of my joints, I dragged myself out of bed towards the dog. As I buried my hands in his soft fur, I felt my spirit resonate with his. My familiar, bound to me for eternity.