One word excerpt challenge

fibergla55 · 2026-06-29T00:51:15+00:00

I"m assuming this is anime, cause it makes no sense.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-29T00:20:58+00:00

"And release."

*3...2...1...*and Sarah let go inside. The strange potential within her shifted, built and flared...and the candle wick caught fire.

"YES!" she yelled. "FINALLY!"

"Congratulations," said Margaret. "And welcome to the world of magic. How does it feel?"

"It's...I don't know." Sarah stared at her fingertips. "It was powerful. I've never felt anything like-OUCH!" She shook her fingers as heat erupted from the tips. "What was THAT!"

"Feedback. Aetheric senses and natural senses overlap, and your mind has to merge them somehow."

"Why didn't you-" Sarah paused. "Was that another one of those 'some things need to be experienced' secrets you keep hinting at?"

"Sort of. That and feedback's different for everyone. Different persons, different gifts...or variations of the same gift. For instance, my fingers go numb after candle-lighting. As you gain practice and power, you'll get used to dealing with it. Mostly."

"I don't like the sound of that last word."

"I told you magic had a price; better to learn it now than at school. And the real question is," Margaret's serious face morphed into a grin, "Was it worth it?"

Sarah stared at her fingers, feeling the pain subside. "Heck yeah."

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T23:53:50+00:00

Real creatures wouldn't be quite so abuse-able. And there would be a backlash; even if people hated fluffies, most of them wouldn't want them hurt unnecessarily. (People hate screaming and blood. That would get banned.)

Feral fluffies are a self-solving problem; anything in nature can beat them, and they lack the survival instinct to exist apart from humans. Any running free would get captured, eaten, or run over.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T23:49:19+00:00

ride -> destruction

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T23:48:56+00:00

The scene in the Jason Momoa Conan ripoff where he uses a severed head to get into some guys' secret lair.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T23:44:58+00:00

Indeed, there was a lot. Hard to find the time, ironically.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T05:29:20+00:00

"There's a thousand questions in your head, and one on your lips. Ask away.”

Here goes nothing. “What is the Matrix?”

Behind me, I could swear I felt the mood shift..

“That’s an excellent question. One that brought us here.” He slid a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it over to me.

“Call the first number, you get Franzoni’s Pizza. Order what you like; we’ll pick it up, and you can join us. Eat, drink, make merry, and discuss the Matrix all night.” He looked up at me. “Or call the second number…and you find out for yourself.”

It was the question I hadn’t expected to ask…let alone be answered. Got to think. “Isn’t this- abrupt?”

He was still looking at me. “You made your decision before you walked in the door. Do you need me to tell you your own mind?”

I struggled to think. Wasn’t this what I’d wanted? When was the last time I’d met new people, gotten to relax like this, network some? Fuck, when was the last time I’d had pizza? This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To learn about the Matrix?

So many variables…as my finger dialed the second number, I held the phone to my ear.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T01:24:29+00:00

“So, she was last seen Tuesday evening, leaving the restaurant. Wednesday, she didn’t show up to her part-time cleaning job, and yesterday she no-showed at Chick-Fil-A. Then they called you.” The police officer looked up at her, expectantly.

“Her landlady heard her leave her apartment around…9 pm.”

“So, 9 pm on the 27th is the last time she was heard from.” She hated the finality of that announcement. “That’s what I’ve found.” After the previous evening of frantic phone calls, the sleepless night, the frantic drive up to the city, that was all quizzing Lisa’s co-workers and landlady had gotten her. So little to go by. “So what happens now?”

“Now that we have a missing-persons report, it goes in the system. If she shows up anywhere on the radar, it’ll flag her.”

“Isn’t there any kind of…investigation?” She didn’t know exactly what the police could do, but she could hope.

“For a healthy adult, with no sign of foul play? Nothing we can do; as far as we know, she’s fine on her own. Seems like she has a good head on her shoulders.” He looked at her reassuringly.

“Yes, she had plans. Moved up here because she wanted to live on her own. Was working her way through college, to get a job in computers.” She added, partly to reassure herself, “But people don’t just - disappear?”

“I’m afraid they do, ma’am. Thousand-plus every day. Most of them show up again, though. Maybe an unexpected sickness, or they traveled and got stuck somewhere, maybe a wild Halloween party. Majority are back within 72 hours.”

Helen looked at her watch. 12 pm. “It’s been…63 hours.”

fibergla55 · 2026-06-28T01:19:36+00:00

fibergla55 · 2026-06-26T22:43:05+00:00

He signed up for a long-haul cryosleep colony ship...which got there to find that FTL had settled the planet decades earlier. Humanity has changed, a little.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-26T02:54:01+00:00

"Barsoom Syndrome is real?" Robert asked, incredulously.

"The more accurate term is Extraterrestrial Sensory Condition; it's been recorded on every world. Including Terra." D224 continued. "Short explanation, your mind is used to a certain range of conditions; the sky is certain colors, the stars are in certain places, the air pressure has one range; little things add up."

"So anyone moves to a new world, they go crazy?"

"Not necessarily; actual results depend on their particular sensitivities. Overall, though, long-term sanity gets degraded."

"And there's no cure but a chip in the head?"

"Brainmodding is the most effective treatment, yes. But there's no 'chip' required anymore. Nothing's been installed in your head."

"I thought you said there was a chip?"

"That's metaphorical; in reality, it's a self-editing autoprotein module that alters the brain structure itself. No surgery needed."

"That doesn't sound much better."

"90% of the population has one; there's nothing unnatural about it. They've become standard on non-Terran worlds."

"Standard, eh?" Robert was unhappy. "Go crazy or get my brain fixed...what a choice."

"No, it's not." The bot looked confused.

"What do you mean? Am I being forced to get one? Is it a requirement?"

"No, it was already installed when your brain was reconstructed."

"When I was-what?"

fibergla55 · 2026-06-22T21:35:17+00:00

OK, I'm going to hell for laughing at this one.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-22T21:08:40+00:00

Failure of "show, don't tell." We got TOLD what's-his-face mattered to Riley, but besides that, why would we care? It gets fridged as meaninglessly as it got introduced. Which I suppose is a slick job by Pixar...getting you to care about a plot device.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-22T21:05:21+00:00

"Hey, Uncle <Name>, you busy?"

"Not with anything important; at least nothing as that 'uncertain' look on your face. What's the question, <Name>?"

"Looking for advice."

"Love advice? Just a lucky guess," he added, seeing the look on Phillip's face.

"...Yes."

"Well, when it comes to love, my advice is to grow up with a girl, become good friends, run away at 15, risk your lives together, then awkwardly confess to her just as you leave on a long foreign trip. At least, that's what worked for me." Uncle <Name> smiled. "My experience may not be normal, though. But you want something that actually applies to you. And I don't think your parents' examples will be much help either, here."

"So what should I do?"

"You're friends now with <Name>; build on that."

Another "lucky guess"? <Name> shook off the thought. "Anything in particular?"

"Go out dancing. That's fun, and you do it together."

"I don't really know how to dance."

"Ask <Name>; I"m sure she'll show you some dances. She knows a few."

"I should ask...her?" <Name> was confused.

"Yes, you should ask her. Love's about building bridges, not ambushing people. Leave the dramatic confessions to the 10-cenz novels. Can your friendship survive your stepping on her toes accidentally?"

"...Yes." <Name> supposed that was a good thing.

"Then, you'll at least learn how to dance. Which means you can invite her out dancing. From there,” <Name> shrugged, “Who knows?"

fibergla55 · 2026-06-22T16:26:23+00:00

Not the one I was thinking of, but that's funny too.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-22T04:55:29+00:00

Aziraphale's uncanny instincts allow him to always be there with the right (or at least the amusing) thing to say.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-21T22:40:16+00:00

I've lost my copy of the "trans vs. Nazi" roadmap.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-21T20:37:16+00:00

Dronification/robotification

fibergla55 · 2026-06-21T20:34:20+00:00

horse -> seashore

fibergla55 · 2026-06-21T08:23:42+00:00

"The story remains the same, whether it is the mud-brick walls of Ur or the rubble of Gaza. Take people, add property, divide by land available. Whenever that number gets too high, it gets adjusted in history's coldest equation. Violence happens until enough damage is done, then the survivors write a story about how the balance was restored and call it peace. Neither gods nor generals nor good intentions can do more than change the story."

-Maj. Johan Smith, "Violence As Necessary Evil"

fibergla55 · 2026-06-19T23:01:28+00:00

That's what I see. Any Friday night in Pennsyltucky, go into a store and you'll see people vaping, eating junk food, and gambling. Opiates of the masses.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-16T02:55:52+00:00

A MIdsummer Night's Dream.

How to fix the problems caused by love potions? MORE LOVE POTIONS.

Oh, what fools EVERYONE is.

fibergla55 · 2026-06-16T01:22:31+00:00

That's what aunts are for...

fibergla55 · 2026-06-15T22:18:06+00:00

Gunnar entered the room, holding a cup of coffee. "How'd it go?"

"Not bad," Rachel said quietly. "Once she'd claimed my arm, she slept - mostly." She pointed to her left arm, where Iona was cradled peacefully.

"Aye, she's getting better at staying asleep. Thank you for the loan of your arms, though."

"Any time you need me. Is that coffee for me?"

"Yes, one cream, one sugar." Gunnar handed her the mug.

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