Robots, teddy bears and apparently I have a thing for the name Amelia

These two stories are not related, they actually take place in many years in the future and many years in the past but I still somehow managed to put the name Amelia in both. I really love the name and I suppose if I ever have a daughter then at least she will have stories to read that have her name in them.

Now enjoy the past two stories and my next post will include a picture of the caterpillar Scott drew for my first story!

Joie de vivre mes amis!

21 November 2013

A Robot, An Android and A Teddy Bear

Deep in the furthest reaches of space is a station full of trash. Ever since people overpopulated earth and began expanding out into space the amount of garbage increased tenfold. Many things ended here but mostly it was prototypes and toys of days past. The station could almost be a history museum of sorts if it didn't look so much like a heaping pile of broken metal and cloth.

In this rubble were two beings. One was Prototype 2024 Android 1.0 named Andy by his human owners. The other was a robot created in 2012. They had spent many years together in the rubble. Andy and Bot, as he was referred to by Andy, had become the closest to friends that two non-animal things could be. Bot was very basic. He was one of the first household robots that were meant to be a “friend” for people. Andy was the very first android created and was built to be a companion and helper to people. They had a great understanding of each other and wander the rubble station together.

Over the years the two had found many reminders of what their lives had been before but one day they stumbled upon something neither had seen before. Andy knew all in the world there was to know because the humans made him this way and he knew this was a toy for children before robots became their friends.

“Bot, what we have here is a common child's play toy called a teddy bear. It gave children comfort and joy in the days before we came along” said Andy as he picked up the toy. “It looks like it has a name on the manufacturer's tag. It says, This Bear Belongs To: AMELIA.”

“Andy this rubble was placed here just last week. Do you think this bear belonged to a girl on another station? Does she miss her teddy bear?”

“She does miss her teddy very much. Her teacher said 'Amelia you are 10 now. It is time to get rid of this toy and grow up' Amelia cried when her teacher threw it away.”

“Hello fellow android,” said Andy, “do you have a name or number?”

“I was not given a name I am just Android 7.2 serial number 6589942. I was the school android but was replaced by Android 8.0.”

“Andy we have to take teddy back to her. She must be so sad without her bear! We spend our days just wandering! Let's go take the bear to her and have an adventure! There are old ships here we could reboot one and find Amelia! Android 7.2 where does she live?”

“She lives on Valencia, the elite spacecraft that orbits earth. They have an open bay near the trash receptacles. I was left here with a personal craft. It works, the humans were just no longer interested in it. It is just over that garbage heap over there,” Android 7.2 pointed towards the craft that looked only slightly scratched from transportation.

“Thank you Android 7.2 for your assistance. Would you like to accompany Bot and I to Valencia?”

“No thank you Andy. My time there is over and I shall remain here as I have expired my uses on Valencia.”

Andy and Bot grabbed teddy and headed towards the personal craft. It was as Android 7.2 had described it, in good condition and worked just fine. Bot couldn't drive, he was too basic but Andy could and off they went! Andy knew where Valencia was. He had never been there but it was completed shortly before he was sent to the rubble ship.

The ride to Valencia was short but spectacular! The friends had been on the rubble station for so many years that they forgot what it looked like away from mountains of metal and thrown away technology. The never ending black universe with speckles of suns dotted along the horizon were so dearly missed by the friends.

“We haven't left our current home in so long Andy! Look at all those ships and worlds! Can we keep this personal craft and visit other places after we give Amelia her teddy?”

“Well Bot I suppose we could. We traveled all over the rubble station I suppose other places might be more exciting to see.”

Valencia was a beautiful station. It was a small place and Amelia was easy to find. The pretty little girl was elated to see her old friend and was extremely grateful to the friends. As a token of her gratitude, she gave the friends a ship travel visa so they could visit all the far off places they could find. With their mission complete Andy and Bot left Valencia to travel space and see all the universe had to offer.

22 November 2013

The Wind Carries Our Stories

Once upon a time there was a princess named Amelia. She was a curious, bright little girl who loved to sit on the balcony and feel the wind on her face on a sunny day. She loved to feel the tickle of the breeze on her cheek but she always felt like the wind spoke to her.

“Maman, why do we have wind? Why does the breeze touch my cheek and tell me of our people?”

“My sweet Ami, the wind shares our stories with the world. Each little breeze collects your thoughts and memories and gives you the thoughts and memories of others. It helps us all be one with each other,” explained the queen. “What has the wind told you?”

“The wind enjoys to play. It tells me of the little girls and their dolls made of hay. It tells me of the happy villagers at the market trading goods. It tells me of the naughty little boys and the tricks they play on their poor mothers. The wind also shows me sadness. Maman why does the wind show me sadness?”

The queen was disheartened to see her child experience pain at such a tender age but she knew that being a future queen she would need to understand it so the queen explained, “sadness, mon chéri, is a part of life. Happiness gives us hope, sadness brings us realism. We must have sadness to have happiness. You see, Amelia, it is our duty to listen to the winds and hear what our people say. We must understand how they feel so we may have less sadness and more joy. Understand the sadness mon cher and then spread the joy. Joie de vivre is our motto princess and it is your duty.”

Amelia understood what her maman had explained and with a kiss on the cheek thanked her. That evening on her balcony she felt the tender breeze grace her face. She felt the grief of a lost child, the pain of an aging man and the ache of an unattainable love. It was her duty to face the sadness and spread the hope of happiness. As the wind began to move on she whispered the family motto to it. She knew that one day her words would help her be queen and help her people believe she knew them and their needs.

Joie de vivre. Joie de vivre. Joie de vivre.

New Days, New Stories

I have really been digging deep and thinking of new things to write about. I am a very creative story teller but that doesn't always mean they are happy stories. I like to think of an idea, write that down then let it stew in my mind until I have so much boiling over that I have to write it down. I have come up with some great stuff I think! Here are my past couple days of my year of writing.

17 November 2013

Amis de Fleurs

Peony, Rose, Lily and Tulip lived together in a little flower bed in downtown Paris. Atop their window sill they could view the city and watch the people as they took pictures of the Eiffel Tower.

Each floral friend was a soft pink. This brought them together but their shared fondness in their romantic city made them the greatest of friends. Each new day brought happy memories of the people in this world. They saw children playing and couples shopping. They loved their little view of Paris.

One day as Peony, Rose, Lily and Tulip were gazing at the pink and orange sunset a slight gust of wind came through. It was so light, so soft, so warm, the friends barely knew it was there! It tickled their petals and wrapped them in delightful bliss. Peony, with her big fluffy petals then felt that the gust was more than just a gust. She felt its words on her petals.

“Joie de vivre... joie de vivre...” whispered the little gust of wind onto the petals of the friends. As each flower felt the words, a new life came through their souls.

“The joy of living! That's what we have! That is why we are here!” exclaimed Tulip! The friends realized their purpose at that moment. It is to joyfully and gleefully live! They were planted to show a love of life by their person. They are in view of other people to bring a lovely sight of beauty and they get to look out on Paris and be pleased by life around them. Joie de vivre is for them and it is for all, whispered into ears by warm little bursts of wind.

18 November 2013

Rosemarie and Ezra 1941

Rosemarie and Ezra were the best of friends. The children were both six but Ezra always won arguments because he was one day older than Rosemarie. She often let that pass because Ezra was just as adventurous as she was. They liked to play in the woods behind their town, oblivious of the world around them.

In the woods they found a stoic tree that was as old as days. The children noticed the tree's base formed a perfect little cubbyhole, completely hidden from all but the most curious eyes to see. There they imagined valiantly fighting dragons, slaying beasts in mystical lands, soaring through the clouds and stars with fairies and phoenixes. Each day they would meet at the tree after breakfast and play until the sun nearly fell beyond the treeline.

One morning Rosemarie sat inside the tree and began to map out their brave travels through fantastical lands and times. Suddenly Ezra appeared, distraught, unwilling to play games and have adventures. Rosemarie was sad that her friend was so upset.

“Ezzy, why are you crying? We have great travels today and brave soldiers do not cry?” Rosemarie asked trying to encourage Ezra to cheer up.

“The police came today. They were so scary. One big man yelled at Mama and slapped Papa. They begged the police to please let them keep the shop open but they told us we must close the shop. Mama said it was because of our stars but I still don't understand. Why do these police hate us so much. Mama said it was just the way it had to be” explained Ezra to his friend.

Rosemarie knew her and Ezra were different but she didn't know why. She knew he had dark, curly hair and dark eyes and wore a big yellow star on all his clothes and she had long blonde hair and blue eyes. She asked Mutti and Vati why Ezra wore the star and they said it was because der Fuhrer declared them to be the reason the German people had so many hard days in the years past. Ezra was a Jew and Mutti told her she could not play with him anymore. For Rosemarie this could not happen. She loved Ezra and maybe one day they could marry, if Vati would let her. She could not believe his kind family had caused any harm to the Germans and decided to play with him in secret since no one knew of their cubbyhole tree.

“Don't cry Ezzy. Here we are safe. Here we can hide from the police and play games.” The children felt happy in their tree and began to forget the changes happening in their town. Eventually things got worse for Ezra. His family was put on rations. They lost everything and were put behind a great wall, separated from the rest of their town. He secretly found a hole in the wall and would sneak each day to meet Rosemarie. She would bring him food and slowly their adventures turned into dreaming. They would dream of new places to live, places to escape from the disturbance going on around them.

As winter passed it grew harder and harder for the children to play but the tree became their only haven. Deep in the woods they couldn't hear shouting. They couldn't hear the tap tap tap of guns. They couldn't hear the planes or the voice of der Fuhrer over the radio. They could only hear each other as they lay on the cold earth wrapped in blankets, dreaming of a better day.

For Rosemarie those days were happening. She only knew of the guns and the screaming because Ezra told her so. She knew when Vati told her that the Jews were lying and nothing bad was happening that was the real untruth. All she could do was hold her friend and tell him she would never believe what was being said about his family.

One horrible day, Ezra was sneaking out of his town. This was becoming increasingly more difficult due to extra policing of his town but he was little and the new rules made him even smaller. He was almost out when he heard more screaming and shouting. People were moving so fast. Police were yelling and hitting, telling the townspeople to get on the trains. The whole town. All of them were loaded onto the carts. Mama had told him once if he could escape the police to run and never look back. Ezra saw Mama holding Sissy and walking with Papa. They locked eyes. He felt her love flow through his body and with her teary gaze she told him to run. She knew he had a place to hide in the woods with Rosemarie. She knew he would be safe. He knew he would never see Mama, Papa and Sissy again.

“They are gone. They took them. They took Mama, Papa and Sissy. I am alone Rosie. I can't go back. You are all I have.”

That day it snowed the hardest it had ever snowed in the lives of Rosemarie and Ezra. They curled together in their blanket and wept. Wept for the loss of innocence in the world they knew. Wept for Mama, Papa and Sissy. Just wept together as friends will do. That day they fell asleep, entwined in each others arms, bitten by frost and forever immortalized in the cubbyhole, protecting their innocence and adventures. Forever children, slaying dragons and soaring through the stars, never in pain again.

19 November 2013

The Soldiers, The Queen and The Beasts

The day was hot and the glare from the sun almost blinding. The queen needed food and the soldiers needed to retrieve the best of the best. The smell of garbage was wafting at the enormous glass wall but today it wasn't the garbage the soldiers wanted. The furry beasts food was sitting near their home and had all the nutrients the queen would need to feed her growing belly full of new recruits.

The mission was set. They needed to bypass the furry beast and keep away from the less hairy, even larger beasts. The larger ones liked to stomp them and the furry ones liked to eat them. It was a daring mission but too close to pass up.

The soldiers first challenge was to scale the tall cement wall. They had to be quick as the less hairy beasts liked to move the glass wall at their will. Up the wall the scampered. Success! Everyone made it up the wall. Their next challenge was to go unseen to the glass wall. The soldiers kept rank tight to the large, shady bush by the glass wall. Quickly they ran along the bush and again success! Past the wall they ran with the hairy beasts food in sight.

BANG!!!!!!

The wall slammed shut! One soldier was lost in the door the rest fell back and regathered at their home. The rest moved forward. They were safe. All the beasts were outside. One behind the other they climbed the wall containing the food they needed. Each soldier grabbed a piece as a few others stayed back to be lookouts. One by one they came down and headed towards the glass wall.

Purrrr.... Purrrr

“Smaller hairy beast! Watch your backs! Close ranks and head home! Hurry, hurry, hurry! Go! Go! Go!” shouted the look outs. Down the wall they scrambled as the hunter beast sat waving it's long tail waiting to attack. Suddenly the glass wall opened just in time. The soldiers rushed the opening as the smaller or the hairy beasts was scared off by the less hairy beasts. Out the opening, past the bush, down the cement wall and home!

Success! The queen shall eat and the soldiers can plan for the next mission for more food. Hidden in the large, safe bush from all the beasts, they strategized how to get to the garbage next. But for now they rest. The next mission will be much harder.

*These stories are mine and mine alone. You are welcome to read them and share them with my name attached to them but you are not welcome to take these stories without permission. If you do you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Be kind and give me credit. That is all I ask.*

The start of a beginning...

I am a writer, through and through, I write. It is in my soul. I tell stories. I blog. I journal. I put pen to paper and mind to hand. I write. This is me. This is who I am.

What makes a writer?

Narcissism. Insecurity. Constant need for attention and acceptance. Lack of money. Passion. Skill.

I started a blog for selfish reasons. I wanted to have fame and recognition. Maybe if I like and share this and push my "skills" onto my friends and family I may get that. Likely that is not so but it really is worth a try.

I suppose I should say my heart, soul and life entwine with words. From birth I have been a story and until death I shall be one as well. These are my words and each day shall a new one arise.

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed" Ernest Hemingway

15 November 2013

The Caterpillar

There once was a curious, green caterpillar who decided to venture out into the snow. As each little leg, with boots on tight, marched into the pretty white fluff, a chill went through his soul.

“Oh my! It is so cold!” cried the caterpillar as he climbed back to his home in the tree. He began wishing for the day he could play with his friends, the bees, again and not feel the chill of winter's frost. Caterpillar loved the bees. They were fun and zippy and could fly all day in the expansive blue sky. The little caterpillar, with a black cape draped over his back, daydreamed about flying with the bees. He and his buzzing friends would fly with all the bugs and prance on all the beautiful flowers. He loved his imaginary adventures and couldn't wait to tell his friends.

Caterpillar began to feel chillier and even a bit sleepy so he pulled his cape closer to him and got in his little bed for a great slumber. He slept and slept, dreaming of soaring through the stars and the clouds, not knowing he was growing and changing. One warm spring day, caterpillar awoke and wiggled his way out his once cozy bed. It had become so small during his sleep and his little black cape had fallen off to the bottom of the tree. He stretched and yawned and waited for the bees he knew were soon to come.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Went the bees with their quick moving wings. They were excited to see their good friend, the caterpillar, again and tell him of all the honey they had made.

“Caterpillar! You have grown!” exclaimed one bee.

“Why look at those wings!” said another.

Confused, caterpillar shook himself about until he was fully awake and felt the new wings he had sprouted in his sleep. He jumped and danced, so happy he could play in the sky with the bees.

“How glorious! How magnificent!” cried the bees. “Come fly with us caterpillar!”

Caterpillar jumped from the tree and fluttered his new wings. His dream come true, caterpillar played all the days with his buzzing friends and had adventures each new day. He found new lands and made many new friends, happily leaving behind his days of crawling through the snow.

16 November 2013

Winds of Days

Wisp... wisp... wisp

Over the winds, over the days.

Wisp... wisp...wisp..

Over the hallows, over the years.

Wisp... wisp...wisp...

Here comes the wind, jolly and free, looking for solace as she may be.

Wisp... wisp... wisp..

Here comes solace, freedom and peace..

Wisp... wisp... wisp...

Sacred, lone, cheek by jowl, jointly by thee.

Wisp... wisp... wisp..

Here she comes, scared as thee. Forever flown to peace by me. Come one, come all by freedoms plea. To hearts avail.

Wisp... wisp.. wisp...

Thy wind shall be.

Wisp... wisp...wisp..

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/e/ernest_hemingway.html#BzSuqkA2L6kZDLHV.99