Showcase Sunday: Three Shorts In One and All For Your Entertainment
Today, I'm choosing three of my favorite short stories with included artwork both written and produced by me, jamming it all into one post, and all for your entertainment needs. These are all from long ago. Some may remember them but I have a strong feeling many more haven't seen these.
Act 1
No Choice: She Had to Die
A Confession
Yesterday evening was nice.
No wind, so calm. I sat outside, alone, working on my art for the next big show. Not a care in the world.
The moon appeared to be full. Just hanging out in the sky, alone. So quiet, peaceful. If there's a heaven, that was it, floating by. I thought about going there, someday.
Then She Came to Join Me
I wasn't bothered at first, but this quickly turned into an interruption.
I'm not sure if she knew, but I needed to stay focused. I have a lot on my plate. So much to do and a twenty-four hour day isn't long enough. I tried to tell her with my body language, now isn't a good time. She didn't pick up on it.
I hate it when I lose my cool.
She knew I was busy, she had to know. There's no way she couldn't know.
I should have turned the computer off. It's strange. She knows I'm working, but every time I turn it on and especially at night, she's suddenly drawn to me. Just hangs out. It's fine when she's there, busy, doing her thing, keeping quiet, keeping her distance, leaving me be.
I guess she didn't like my attitude last night. I didn't feel like dealing with drama and I was far too busy. I just got up, left without a word, went inside the house, settled in at the desk.
Finally
I could think again. Must stay focused at all times. Have to remain in the zone or the results end up being sloppy. Started to have fun again, but it didn't last.
I had about thirty minutes. One half of an hour. I just don't get it. I thought the message was clear. I'm busy. I need to finish this. Stop bothering me.
I have bills to pay. Don't start giving me shit because I'm spending time doing the things I do so I'm able to pay the bills.
I Now Put a Roof Over Your Head
A shared space. Respect goes a long way. You wanted my attention now you have my attention. Why are you bothering me here, now. I need to get this done. First you're in my ear outside, breaking the silence, now you're here in my ear and getting all up in my face! What is the point of all this?
My thoughts raced like that, but I said nothing. I didn't want to fight, but now she seemed like she was out for blood. No point in arguing. How do you even argue with that? They can't seem to understand anything and win by default, every time.
Again, I walked away. This time, to give up on my entire day.
Time to Go to Sleep
I nicely got comfortable. Started to relax. Time to unwind. Time to lose touch with this reality and wander into the next, for a few hours.
Probably for the best. Sleep early, wake up early, finish when it's quiet again. Nothing wrong with that.
She then entered the room.
I probably slept for ten minutes, if that. She didn't make any effort to be quiet, no. She got right back up in my face and in my ear. Flying around the room, having a mental fit. Poking at me, screaming at me!
Finally I had enough!
Open hand slaps!
As hard as I could!
Repeatedly!
Until she was...
I Hate Mosquitoes!
Act 2
A Snippet of My Life as a Child: To Flush or Not to Flush
So Dark
Dark enough to see colors again.
What are these colors? They're still there when I close my eyes.
It's quiet now. Everyone must be sleeping.
I forgot to go to the bathroom.
Still Awake
Two hours later.
I hate school. Why can't it always be the weekend? I rented those games for three days. I only got to play for two. That's not fair. It won't be there when I get home from school. I'll never get to play that game again.
I really have to go to the bathroom!
The Bed Creaks
They'll hear me.
Slowly. Quiet. Move to the edge of the bed. Sit. Wait.
This is going to be loud, but I got this far. It's time to stand.
On my feet. I hope they didn't hear that. I better wait.
It's still quiet. Good. Time to move to the door. The knob makes noise. Not good. I'll turn it slowly.
The door is open. Pause. Listen. It's still quiet. Time to make my next move.
The floor.
It creaks.
One step at a time. You can do this.
Step around the noisy parts. I hope they can't hear my heart pounding. I better hold my breath.
One step. Pause. Next step. Pause. It's still quiet. I'm almost there.
On the other side of that wall, they sleep.
I hope I don't piss my pants before I get there. So close.
They might hear the click. I better leave the door open.
They'll hear splashing. Aim for the side of the bowl. Don't screw this up.
Oh my god does that ever feel good. I'm so glad I did this.
To flush
or not to flush.
Time to make a decision. Do I get yelled at now for flushing and making noise, or do I get yelled at in the morning, for not flushing.
I'm so close to the Nintendo. Nearly halfway. I got this far. I'll flush later, on my way back, when I'm done. Then they'll think I only woke up to go to the bathroom. Genius.
More of the floor. These socks make so much noise on this carpet. Take it slow.
It's so dark in here. The wall will guide me.
Finally
I made it.
All I have to do now is push this button.
click
Ha ha ha ha ha! And on tonight's top ten we have: top ten reasons...
click
Holy crap David Letterman why did you have to be so loud...
I thought I told you boys to get to bed! Shut that TV off! Now!
Busted.
I'll run to bed before they can see which one of us it was. Genius.
Safe. That was close. I better sleep. Come on body. Sleep! So tired. Almost there. So close. There are those colors again. Hello colors...
WHO PISSED AND DIDN'T FLUSH THE TOILET?!?!
Not me!
Act 3
The Life Story Beginning to End
How
How does one approach this?
Where do I start? How will it end? What's next?
I was born, on a day—a day like no other. Then I died, a few hours later.
I haven't lived since.
That's my life story.
I've always wanted to write that book.
I'm glad I finally got a chance to get around to it. It's finished. Done. What a relief.
Growing up wasn't easy. It took me a few years to figure it all out. Someone obviously didn't show up to work that day, or maybe I just got lost along the way.
Surrounded by people; I was alone. Of course, as a baby, I cried. I remember those tears. Those first few years were tumultuous turmoil, traumatic, terrible. Most people forget those early days. I remember it all, and it feels so recent.
Nobody could see or hear me. Before I learned how to walk, slithering around on that cold floor, I'd see them coming. They'd step on me, then keep going. I had to imagine what pain felt like because I couldn't feel anything. It hurt.
I hated everything.
Hated everyone.
The terrible twos, toddler times, up until about the age of five; nothing but a menace.
I wanted to get their attention. I'd open cupboards then slam the doors. I'd push things off tables and stands. I'd hide things. Important things. At night I would run up and down the stairs; laughing.
At the age of six, my parents left me, in that house, all alone; I haven't seen them since.
My existence.
I wanted it all to end.
But how do you kill yourself—when you're already dead.
I tried.
Knives didn't cut. Fire didn't burn. I'd run head first into the walls and go straight through without even leaving a dent.
Exiting the house was impossible. I looked everywhere for a way out. The front door seemed like the best place to start.
I'd go through. I'd instantaneously end up right back where I started, facing the opposite direction. I'd turn around, there's the door, try again; same thing. Back door; same thing. Windows; same thing.
Trapped.
Silence.
The door finally opened. It was my new family. I was happy to see them.
It had been nearly an entire year since I had heard a voice that wasn't my own.
I'd watch them. I knew all of their secrets. These were bad people. Liars. Cheats. I wanted them out of there.
My old tricks didn't work.
One morning while she was getting ready to leave, I stood inside the mirror. She saw me, she screamed; I laughed.
They were gone.
Silence.
Who's next?
The door finally opened. It was my new family. I was happy to see them.
Lazy. Pigs. Loud. Obnoxious. I wanted them out of there.
He'd sit in the tub, soak, drink beer, smoke cigarettes, and listen to his old cassette tapes while the little ones pounded on the door, yelling, screaming because he wasn't coming out clean on this day.
I saw the spirit leave his body after I pushed the old tape player into the water. He saw me then, his eyes got big; I laughed.
Gone.
Silence.
The door finally opened. It was my new family. I was happy to see them.
Everyone seems to bring something new to the table. The world was changing, I was getting older.
This family was quiet, focused, busy doing nothing. They brought new toys. Computers. The internet. I'd sit, I'd watch, I'd learn.
A freak experiment eventually led me inside one of these devices. That was the first time I ever left the house. I could finally communicate with people, just as I'm doing now. I could travel anywhere I wanted. Freedom.
I've been everywhere; I've done everything. There's nothing left.
Again.
I feel trapped.
I want this to be over—and that's why I'm here.
They say these blocks on this blockchain cannot be tampered with; locked in. The instant this message gets sent out to the world, I'll travel along with it, and if everything goes according to plan, this should be the end of the line for me. I will remain dormant inside this block, forever. Nothing gets in, nothing comes out. I'll finally be able to rest.
It's been one hell of a ride. I wish you all the best.
Have to respect the successful Sunday kicking back offering of a collection of hand selected reruns... I salute the boldness of a veteran..
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It's normal. Even the best Youtubers run an episode of 'best of' clips. Simpsons has done it for decades, as well as many other sitcoms.
I'm trying to open doors for people. We've all spent years producing content and much of it wasn't just your generic social media like shit post. Then that work got buried by those using paid votes to promote their shit posts, for years. After everything is said and done, worked your butt off and hardly anyone noticed, for years. Giving things a second chance in way that isn't spam provides these folks an opportunity to get eyes on their work. I choose Sundays because it's typically quiet anyway. I choose to do it now since actual curation seems to be becoming the norm.
Of course, some will abuse this concept but I feel I'm doing it in a way that won't alienate my following. You can agree, there was nothing wrong with this post. Tomorrow and for the rest of the week it'll be all new stuff. Then when Sunday rolls around, if I'm sensing it's quiet, I might run a re-run. As you can see by this comment section, I was right when I assumed it would be quiet here today. Had I spent hours working on new stuff for today, I would have left feeling like nobody saw it.
Yea, I completely understand your points and truly do respect the reality that you and many others have earned that right. I'm completely cool with it and appreciate the honest approach. I'd rather see a good rerun than some forced contrived bit masquerading itself as "new" content..
While I haven't yet spent years creating stuff that was buried, there's certainly plenty of posts I put way too much effort into for a quarter over the last 10 months. I might walk through that open door at some point, especially since as a new content creator my early works were complete whiffs...
If we ever get waves of new accounts I'd expect to see even more Sunday "in case you missed this" posts.. If it gets abused that's why we have flags..
Enjoy your time before the Monday hits, it's already happened in my neck of the woods, but it's a public holiday so I'm going to have some cereal and watch the dark crystal...
We all had that early content producer experience here. Give it your all, nothing happens.
This concept could easily kill two birds with one stone. Sundays. Give producers a second chance to show off some of their best, and have Sundays filled with quality work rather than being a quiet day on the blockchain.
#showcase-sunday? Why not...
I'm all for it! 🤘
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Goddamn mosquitos! Those little bastards always know where to hide when I turn on the lights, I once stayed awake 5 hours trying to kill one, it was an all night fight that only ended when the sun rose and the mosquito disappeared, until this day I know not where the little bastard was hiding.
BTW, did you know that the mosquito that bites us is actually the female mosquito? The male mosquito feeds on plants
I did know that. That's why the mosquito in the story was a she. That's the only way it can work.
Ohhh nice, most people don't know that, I thought you used "she" just so the text would work, guess not...
That story is meant to lead people down a path that could potentially trigger them, because nobody likes violence against women. Once those feelings settle in, the end joke catches them completely off guard. It's a tough skill to master when writing humor.
I must have been around for a while, because I recall all three. They are all really good ones. I deal with the first two quite often - those annoying females, and the no flush. With children, flushing seems to start as a novelty: Oh, I can make this thing do this flushy thing! But it loses its luster soon after: Why should I take one second away from playing trucks to flush?
Maybe I did a poor job of selecting the more forgettable work. At the same time, we all have flops and I didn't think it would be wise to put my failures here. I agree, these were good. Was hoping to draw in a few new followers and show off some of my better side to the fresh new faces around here. Twas a little bit more quiet than I originally thought it would be...
Toilets these days are fancy. Self flushing. The future, is now!
I have a memory like an elephant when it comes to stories. You must have your favorites organized in some way. Mine are not at all, so it is hard to even recollect which are favorites.
Self flushing toilets should probably have the moto scaring the poop out of children since 1992
I had actually spent nearly three hours digging through my blog, reading old stuff, bookmarking, then narrowing my list down to three. I'm normally not organized at all. My headlines are so ridiculous as well. I surprise myself sometimes when I click and see what's actually inside.
I once saw a kid run from a faucet that turns itself on when your hands get near. I wonder what it's like for the elderly...
Three hours - yep, that is the time frame I would be looking at too. I think I will put off the job until I have to swift through for six hours.
The elderly stand there and shout Everything is a computer now! You can't wash the piss off your hands without a computer! That light blinking up there is because of a computer, I know it. All this new, crazy computer technology...
And it probably continues for another 10 minutes.
i like your sunday entertainment post keep it up buddy
I think I will. Thanks!
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Intriguing till the very ends! Wanted to think the first one was like my ex. Well close enough.
Not all bugs are insects ;) It's only okay to smash a mosquito though!
Right on. Add roaches to that list
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I think I remember the first two!
The last one is so sad D:
You've been following closely for a long time. These are old. Many who follow today haven't seen them. Since this recent hardfork, and now Steem content seems to be taking over again (this comes in waves, not complaining), I've felt a bit out of place with the art, humor, fiction, rambling stuff.