Through A Glass Darkly...

[firefox_b]

Amazing Journey

("Sickness will surely take the mind...where minds don't usually go." -- The Who)

Many cultures have regarded the visions which one may have under the influence of drugs or illness to provide a portal to alternative realities, or at least be a source of profound insight into the self.  Without wanting to go there, the tainted frozen off-brand hamburger pizza that Simon had consumed had taken him to that portal, his food poisoning making him suddenly and violently ill.  "I'm running off at both ends," muttered Simon between bouts of projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea.  After well over an hour of this, Simon was weak and nauseated, his nostrils reeking from his own puke and his guts heaving.  He later passed into an uneasy sleep, covered with flop sweat.

In this troubled sleep, Simon opened his inner eyes to behold his furry self sitting on the edge of his mattress.  "Hello, Mate," said the wolf.  "Nasty touch of salmonella you've got there," he observed with concern.  "You've really gotta be more careful about what you eat, 'ya know...'you are what you eat,' as the hippies said in the '60's..."

"Far freakin' out," thought Simon. "And just who might you be?," he asked the wolf.

"Why, I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together," grinned the wolf, paraphrasing the Beatles.  "I'm what you are inside," he continued, "I'm yer inner furry self!"

"And I am the walrus," added Simon, rolling his eyes.  For a moment, he thought that he saw the wolf puff on a joint.

"No, you're a wolf," his furry self counseled, exhaling some really pungent-smelling smoke.  "And you've got to let me out more!  Give me a paw at the helm, so to speak."  The wolf shifted on the bed, crossing his legs.  "I only want to dip my muzzle!"

"I'm just a fan," protested Simon weakly.  "You're not really there!"

The wolf was growing annoyed.  Rising to his feet, he picked up the delirious Simon by his puke-spattered shirt with one clawed hand as if he were weightless.  "Now y'all listen here," growled the wolf, baring his teeth.  He held Simon's face inches away from his yellow eyes.  "I'm at the very core of you!  I'm your energy, your strength, your driving force, your freakin' SOUL! - -You ignore me at your peril!"  The wolf tossed the young man roughly back onto the bed, obviously not strained by the effort.  "I can get you through this crappy life, if you let me!"

Simon's guts rolled again; he looked green about the gills.  "If you can get me through this, you can take over," he offered weakly.

"I thought you'd never ask," the wolf said with a grin.  He reached out a powerful clawed hand to clench the young man's shoulder, this time in fellowship and unity.  At his touch, Simon's head snapped back on his neck, his eyes rolling into his head; it looked like he was having a seizure.  The wolf leaned his own head back, and opened his jaws in a powerful howl.  So piercing was the cry and so vivid the image that Simon awoke from his sleep with a start, and was alone...

Looking about, Simon sat up in bed and swung his legs to the floor.  He felt like he had slept for a long time.  The food poisoning seemed to have run its course.  Simon pulled off his stained shirt revealing his hairy, well-muscled chest.  He sniffed at the shirt, curled his lip in disgust, and flung it away. 

"Guess I need a shower," he muttered.  "There's going to be some changes around here.  And after I clean up a bit, I just might run something down, and kill it..."       

[Somebody]

Not bad at all, definitely interesting to read at least.

Just make sure not to overdo drug related mentions such as "Joint"

[PhantomStone]

not bad for a start lol good first piece, it was a bit smelly for the first part, i'd sugesst adding a bit more cha. detail tho, lol i'd love to hear what simon and the fire fox look like, good story

[firefox_b]

Petroglyph

When the past speaks to us in the modern world, its messages are often written in stone.  Rock carvings called

petroglyphs are among the most ancient of artifacts documenting human civilization.  Among the most common stone

carvings in North America are those of bear paws with claw marks, which seems to be a Native American symbol as

they are often found on sandstone near the sites of former Indian settlements. Such settlements are believed to

date from the Woodland Period, which ran from 1000 B.C. to the Native Americans' first contact with Europeans in

the 17th century.  The fact is that we just don't know the hidden meanings of picture inscriptions handed down to

us through the misty veils of time. 


As Native Americans were slowly driven out and decimated by the encroaching Europeans, the meaning of the bear claw

petroglyphs was further lost in time, and the spirits represented by the stone etchings slumbered forgotten...that

is, until the 21st century rudely intruded upon the sleeping spirits...


They came with their kegs and their boom-boxes, spray-painting satanic graffiti upon the cliffs where the bear

petroglyphs had slumbered for so long.  These were not the Native Americans who had respectfully and reverently

etched the petroglyphs in stone so long ago, but rather neo-pagans who respected only their own appetites.  The

spirits harbored in stone took notice of this, and were not pleased when the barbarians cast stones at squirrels

and other wild creatures in the area, and voided their urine on the trees and the cliffs themselves.  When one of

the pagans took a hammer to the ancient symbols carved in stone so long ago, the spirits couldn't restrain their

anger any longer...


A rumbling sound as if of the grinding and shifting of heavy stone preceded the extraction of the great bear from

the cliff.  He was heavy and massive, being incarnate in the stone itself, and he emerged a piece at a time,

beginning with a massive paw pulling free of the stone to be followed by a huge, shaggy head. A mouth opened on the

head, giving vent to a roar that was ursine, yet rooted deep within the living earth itself.  The rock face

continued to crack and crumble as the other foreleg of the bear broke free, extending claws that grappled with the

rocky cliff as the creature wrenched his body from the stone which had birthed him. Freed completely, the bear

leaped from the face of the cliff, landing on the ground with a resounding impact.  The bear of stone rose to his

hind legs and growled a challenge to the human intruders that rolled and echoed through the woods for miles around.

 

The humans ceased their raucous partying and fled for their lives with the great stone bear in pursuit, some making

it to their vehicles and others running frantically into the deep woods. Rearing to his full height the bear

towered over an empty car before smashing his ponderous bulk down upon it, crumbling the vehicle almost flat and

raking it with his claws. As the last of the humans disappeared, the bear again let out a resounding bellow of

triumph.  He then lumbered back to the face of the cliff, extended himself against it, and within moments again

became one with it.


The local authorities grinned and rolled their eyes at the stories they were later told of giant stone bears and

being pursued by one; they figured that some kids had gotten ahold of some bad acid or weed, and put a creative

spin on how a rock slide had taken out one of their vehicles.  But when they came to remove the wreckage, no fallen

rocks were in sight and the linear gouged marks on the sheet metal couldn't be readily explained...


...and overhead in the clear night sky, the constellation Ursa Minor continued to circle the North Star, as it had

since before the dawn of man and would continue to do after his departure...

[PhantomStone]

wow, that was prety good man, nice job

[Somebody]

While I enjoy the good telling of a tale, I can't help but wonder how that was at all related to the first. I would like to know the relevance

[Dr. Strange]

nice job. Keep the drug references at a min. Most are offended by it and the mods try to run a 'clean forum' as they so wonderfully put it. I like the way it's coming along. Especially with the star stories.

[firefox_b]

While I enjoy the good telling of a tale, I can't help but wonder how that was at all related to the first. I would like to know the relevance

No relationship was intended.  I simply sought to post more than one story here without hogging topics or categories; this has seemed very acceptable and standard on other forums...

[Somebody]

It is acceptable here as well, but due to the title of the thread I assumed it was going to be a singular story.

Also I gotta keep an eye out for spam posts, so don't take it personal the stories are good themselves.

[firefox_b]

The Artist

It was one of those unseasonably warm days in earlier January when the butterfly flitted onto my shoulder.  Those sixty degree days must have caused it to emerge prematurely, I thought.  Still it was strange, and I gently entended my finger for the creature to climb onto, marveling at its delicacy as it did so.  The butterfly perched on my finger as I examined it, realizing to my amazement that it was not organic!  As the tiny insect fluttered its wings, I saw that the wings were a polymer-type material, and I could see microgears meshing as the articulated legs moved.  Traces of microcircuitry could be seen running along the minuscule body.  As if aware that its true nature had been detected, the butterfly flew away, and I saw it no longer.

The technology that could create such a thing was still in the process of being created, and for what purpose had such an extraordinary thing, complex but delicate, been designed?  Apparently it had been devised just because its creator could do so, and he or she had engineered it for the joy of creating it.  Such a person lived in this time, yet ahead of it.  In all of human experience there had only been a handful of such individuals.

As a student of history, I knew that in the Hellenistic Age of Greece, there had lived an extraordinary man who demonstrated a knowledge of mechanics, hydraulics, and other technologies that was many centuries ahead of its time.  So great were this man's capabilities that his understandings would not be approached until the Renaissance, and even then imperfectly so.  The great Leonardo DaVinci, himself a genius, could not get one of his predecessor's machines to function, although in the present day they would, as Leonardo had incorrectly used square rather than pointed teeth in a gear design.  What if this remarkable intelligence had somehow managed to engineer around the problem of death, so that his consciousness in this world survived his physical body?  And what if that individual had continued to learn, grow, and evolve beyond a single human lifespan?

A few miles away, a most extraordinary butterfly flew through an open window.  Servomechanisms hummed and whirred as the consciousness of Archimedes smoothly extended his robotic arm to provide a roost for his returning winged creation...and a positronic brain turned to ponder other marvels that it was even then just conceiving...