Noelle - Day 56 (Sug)

I couldn't really bother today.
So yeah, no fancy name or anything.  Since I've been photo-dumping for the last three days, I'm going to give you guys a two-day break before I continue on to a major photo dump from my Mom's phone and my camera.  I.E.: RVing, field day, statue garden and more.  Because why not?

So today and tomorrow are just go-with-the-flow copy-and-paste stuff.  Yeah, cuz why not.  I might snag some photos off of Pinterest, but beyond that - I'm done.


I decided that today, for you, my dedicated readers, I'm going to post a short story I wrote recently, and maybe a photo.  I know, I'm being like supervague - I totally didn't get enough sleep last night - but I think you guys can deal for one day, amiright?


So photo first - unfortunately, not my art (not even close - it's really good) but I do have the artist's name, so please don't sue me.  Grzegorz Rutkowski, thank you for this artwork (although I'm pretty sure you don't even know I'm using it).  It's just a little something I found on Pinterest, and I thought that, well, hmmmm....I'm not going to tell you, because SPOILER no way.  I will tell you that it has a mysterious something to do with R.M.S.

I told you it was good.  No more details, but it has a big something to do with R.M.S.

Right!  I completely forgot what I was going to do.  The short story: my fifth official short story.  The name?  Click the link below to read it, and don't forget to comment with your ideas for more short stories.
Stranger: Short Story #5

I do what I always do.  I sit, my rear in the sand, staring out over the endless waves until my eyes are strained and I can’t see anymore.  I listen to the sound of the everlasting, never changing jungle around me, the vague rumble of the volcano.

I don’t talk.  Sometimes I talk to the animals around me, but when I stare out over those waves, I never talk.  I just wonder and sit.

The tangy salt stings my nose, and I flatten myself out over the island beach.  I want every part of myself to come in contact with my home before I go out to find food.  Not that I have to work hard to find food - the island has always yielded something.

The waves come crashing in again and I stand stretching my bones and squishing my toes into the muck below me.  The jungle seems to groan with me as I move every muscle, and as I run into the woods, the voices increase.

Parrots, hogs, and insects all chirp and whistle as I dash by.  I dance past a sleeping lizard, laughing for the pure joy of being alive.  I did what I do everyday, and that makes me happy.

I whoop and I whistle, shout and sing wordless songs till my voice has echoed back.  The birds call back to me, and then we break out in chorus - me and the island.  And I am happy.

Suddenly, a crash interrupts the song.  A smashing noise that I’ve never heard before.  It’s new - it could be something dangerous - so I nimbly climb a tree.  I feel sorry for the pigs that snort on the ground, because they can’t climb trees.  I’m sorry hogs.

Another crash.  What is happening, I wonder as I jump to the next tree.  I’m curious.  What could it be?

I swing to another tree.  My movements are being copied by a chattering group of monkeys, but I don’t notice.  I know they want attention, but the noises are more interesting.  I drop to the ground, and the crowd jumps away, chittering like I gave them nuts for no reason.

CRASH!!!  The sound is so loud, so foreign, it makes me cover my ears in pain.  It’s not part of my island - it doesn’t belong here.  I skitter behind a bush, and slowly, carefully, I peak out.

It’s some kind of beast - a weird pale thing with a loose fur hanging off of it.  It looks around, and I can see the fear in it’s eyes, like a parrot with a broken wing.  It glances my way and I crouch down so it’s wild eyes don’t see me.

It is holding a stick with a hunk of rock at the end, too shiny to be any rock from this island.  There aren’t any other islands though - there aren’t any new creatures that just randomly appear on my island either.

I notice it’s fur seems to hang in oddly shaped sheets, some from the shoulder blades - which are broader than mine by the way - and some from the waist - taller than me.  It’s hulking and horrid, but for some reason, I feel pity for it.

It sees me!  It’s too late to run!  What should I do, what should I do?!  The beast grunts at me, a low sort of grunt I usually reserve for angry male hogs.  It grunts again, and it’s lips are moving strangely, like it’s trying to form words.

It stands up all the way and I back down in fear - this beast, this monster is huge!  It could take me out and eat me for dinner like a bird eats a fly!  But no, the strange creature only extends a lanky leg towards me and grunts again.  I cock my head to the right, confused.  What does it want?  What does this thing want?

Slowly, I crawl out from behind the bush, looking at the thing carefully in case it tries to attack.  I kneel to the ground, not taking my eyes off of it, and slowly, in the mud between us, I draw a face.  A smiling face - hoping that the beast will understand.

To my relief it nods and offers me a fruit.  I shake my head - I have all the fruit I need.  To explain this to the pale beast, I slowly climb up a tree, trying not to provoke it, and grab several mangos.  I toss them down to the thing and it picks one up curiously.

This thing, it’s smart.  There is both intelligence and fear in it’s blue eyes.  The fur, though matted and muddy, is a light brown and strange blue color.  I look at it, touching it, and find it’s not fur but some kind of soft skin!  I jump back, surprised.

The stranger shakes his head, and slowly smiles, showing white teeth.  White, like my teeth.  I nod.  This thing is ok.

The beast keeps smiling, gesturing to himself.  He points at himself, with his blue skin and brown fur and smiles.  He grunts again, and this time it sound like he’s saying something specific.  A word.

“Safe,” it grunts.  “Safe.”

“Safe,” I repeat.  I point to it and say quietly, “Safe.”