My Apologies

There has not been a post this week and there probably will not be one next week either; we have left on a trip and will not return until Thursday.  I am very sorry for this inconsistency and hope it does not cause too much inconvenience.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Post Number Ten: Another Short Story

Still was from Lakia. He had, according to his own account, been taken to my home world of Loma by mistake having something to do with disrupted flight schedules; once the landing had been made and the mistake discovered, the space-ship director refused to take him back due to cost and time delay. A day later I found him virtually dehydrated, wandering the desert in search of a settlement, and had taken him to my house where I hoped he would recover quickly. Soon however it became clear that he would not be able to survive on Loma for very long; the air being too dry and the climate too harsh. I was going to have to take him back. . . Myself, the self-respecting Emerald Long of Highland Sands, who had never ventured beyond the Sixteenth Parallel.  What else could I do? There was no way that Still could pay for a passage back on a commercial Bistack [passenger/long distance space-ship] and I was in the ownership of a small Dartslide space-ship, though I was unable to fly it wit...
Read more

The Train Station: Chapter 3

Jingle looked back at Gary and Beach, who were still peering anxiously round the door. "It's safe, I think.  Come on and have a look.' Accordingly the two came near and looked at the rock where Jingle pointed.  It looked about normal (not turned bright blue or glowing as Gary had rather hoped.)  Beach noticed something, however. "It's at a funny angle, isn't it?"  "That's what I thought," Jingle nodded.  The rock which had been flat was now tilted up at a forty five degree angle (abouts) sloping down into the ground.  The pan and bottle were perched precariously, ready to slide down.  Beach grabbed them and thrust the bottle hastily into Jingle's arms, as though she was still uncertain of its nontoxicity.  Jingle stared at it. "Oh. . .well, that's too bad.  It's spilt itself." The bottle was indeed quite empty.  Beach and Gary offered sympathetic looks. "It could be worse-- at least we have the bottle." said G...
Read more

Part Two of the story I started Last Week

   The tall woman it turned out was named Alice Margaret Cake, to be called Ms. Cake, or Teacher for short. It was she who arrived early every morning to set up the classroom and make sure all was in order before the students arrived. “And then,” said Ms. Cake, as she dusted off the desks with a cloth and straightened the chairs (Janek still hovering nearby), “then, I teach the class all day until evening. And then, I make sure everyone has Cleared Out before the caretaker comes by to close up. And then—” She thrust a jar of pencils onto her own desk with rather more force than was necessary.   “and then, I when the day is done and night has fallen, then I take out my pencil—” She gesticulated energetically with the blackboard cleaner. “---and review everyone's work, beginning to end, every subject; even geology. And then—” She had been bending over (the better to scrub the blackboard) but now she straightened and gave Janek an appraising look. “---I grade. If y...
Read more