Shards and Phractures

Note:  This is an entry into The Friday Challenge. The man was short, wearing gray robes with a wizard's cap.  He was chewing on a cigar.  He muscled the cart into the ballroom, swearing under his breath.  Once it was through the door, he pulled a wand from his pocket.  One quick flourish, and the tables and chairs scattered themselves across the room.  A banner floated up the wall and hung itself from hooks--"Welcome!  Reunion!  Class of 204!" it proclaimed. His work done, he snapped his fingers; a flame appeared at his fingertips, and he lit the cigar from it.  He let out a deep sigh, knowing the kind of mess he'd have to clean up when this was all over... Albus frowned at him over the top of his brandy snifter.  "You changed your name?" "That's right," Emrys said.  "Too many legends and conflicting reports.  Everyone wanted to know where the damn sword ended up at.  I didn't have the heart to tell them the kid traded it for a night ...

Note:  This post is an entry into this week's Friday Challenge, which can be found here.   The challenge:  What happens after "The Day the Earth Stood Still?"  (The remake version, that is.) Riley was waiting for her at the airlock, with a bucket of paint in his hand for some strange reason.  Of course, Riley would be the one to see her off.  He gave her a wink and a smile, and she nodded back. "Knock 'em dead," he added.  "After all, what can go wrong?"  With that, all of the tension leaked out of her body, and she found herself laughing in spite of herself. He stepped aside, and Carrie saw what he had painted on the airlock door.  "Fitting and appropriate," she said, as the door opened. The laughter was gone before she cycled through the airlock, and she stepped out into the alien space station.  Two aliens waited to escort her to the conference room.  On her left was a heavy worlder, built like a Sumo but with tufts of green fuzz in od...

Note:  This is an entry into the Friday Challenge, which can be found here . Damien sat still while the interviewer set up his recorder at the far end of the table.  The device was a lot smaller than he had expected. "Okay.  We're rolling.  You ready for this?" Damien gave the man a grim smile.  "No," he said.  "The real question is, are YOU ready?"  The man frowned back at him, but Damien ignored it.  He gestured to the newspaper in the center of the table. "What, you mean you had something to do with that?"  The cover headline scrolled across the electronic paper.  A local big-name celebrity businessman had gone nuts, shot and killed one of his partners, and claimed to have shot someone else, though the body had not been found.  The other partner had completely disappeared, and the animated video on the page showed grim-faced cops hauling boxes upon boxes of evidence out of the man's home. He took a long, deep breath.  "If you were...

NOTE:  This is an entry for The Friday Challenge, which can be found Here . Rick leaned on the balcony overlooking the bay, and took a long pull on his cigar.  Behind him, inside the house, the raucous noises of a birthday party were still blasting.  His party.  But at his age, he felt the need for a little quiet. The quiet didn't last long. "Grampa Rick!  Grampa!  Come on, tell us a story!" "Yeah!  You always tell good stories!  Tell us how you made all your money!" "Story! Story!" Nine grandkids--plus a handful of their friends--makes for a very intimidating, albeit small, army.  So, Rick reluctantly put out the cigar, but he refused to abandon the brandy snifter, and allowed himself to be led back inside, to the fireplace.   "Come ON, Grampa!  How did you get to be rich?" He looked over to the table, where the remaining adults were cleaning away the mess and lost in their own conversations.  This was just him, and the munchkins...not that ...

Okay, let's see if we can bring the ol' Pix of the Day thing back to life here. She-who-must-be-obeyed signed me up for a photography class at the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha a few months back, before I broke my camera. The instructor, Pasquale Mingarelli, or "Pat," was laid back, very knowledgeable, and made sure we got a lot out of the class. Make sure to drop by and check out his pictures, too, at www.wildheartphotography.com Hope everyone is enjoying the rising temperatures, vanishing snow, and increased rain...*grin* -=ad=-

NOTE:  This post is an entry to the Friday Challenge, which can be found here . The shooting star arced across the sky, leaving a trail that must have been miles long, shooting sparks in all directions.  It was easily the longest shooting star he had ever seen, awake or dreaming.  He was dreaming, wasn't he...?  He looked around, seeing the children playing basketball with an inflated frog next door.  Across the street, there was a horse and carriage in the driveway, instead of the Honda that was usually parked there.  And he was getting ready to leave for work with bright, fluffy pink bunny slippers on his feet. Yes, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. He let the dream carry him across the street and around the block, and where there should have been an elementary school, he instead found the quiet neighborhood where his grandmother lived.  If he hadn't already known he was dreaming, this would have cinched it, because her home was a forty-five minute drive away--more during r...

I got my first paying gig here in Nebraska. My client wanted "lifestyle" stuff...sunset over the lake, kids playing, shoppers outside a store... I knew from last year that there was snow coming, and I wanted to get some of these pictures before everything was frozen and white. So, I went off to shoot the neighborhoods the client suggested...in 35 or so degree weather. On the seventh, or maybe eighth stop, I saw these two guys in a rowboat, with this brilliant red sunset behind them. Great lifestyle shot, if I could get it, so I leaped out of the car with the tripod in one hand and the camera in the other. Well, you can't adjust a tripod with a hand full of camera, so I decided to loop the strap around my neck. I missed. The strap passed over my head, and my fingers were so cold I lost my grip on the camera. It fell...from, oh, head height or so...landed on the (cheap kit) lens...on concrete. I found shattered pieces of plastic inside the camera body from the lens bod...