Various Writings Dump
(Newest at top)
considering your options
The grass caught up with Richard. He was chasing his dog, pulled into play. He didn't want to be there for what was going on. There was enough pressure, with the basics of being involved. He could have been involved in so many things, as was the curse that had been brought upon him.
The problem had started years ago when he looked into Developmental Business, a concept spearheaded by the great Beauracrat William Watkins back around the turn of the century. It was something he loved to polish, but it really took the luster out of him in return. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, there were changes and opportunities and failures and all together they added up to a webbing he was inextricably stuck in. So much so that he couldn't find where it began. He had some idea, yes, but also on the flip-side he had no idea, such was his wrap-around state. It was a system that had him, a system of interacting pieces, unless that was completely obvious before now.
His was a burden of choice, a decision he couldn't make anymore. Every possibility had been removed. The only thing he could deal was with everything already glued to him. This was the context, this was the marriage--to nothing and to everything.
It had degrees. It was a long-suffered arrangement. There was no describing it, it had already happend. It sucked, but that didn't matter. It was life, formed through shared concious effort--holding it in place, sending it from hand to hand. And there was a condition to leave everything else, too, so in effect the whole globe of problems that surrounded him extended into infinity.
There was of course a point of disruption when Samantha showed up. She had a mindset to deal with, and therefore she was confused, creating a limitation of her powers to alter Richard's situation thuswise, but she still loved him--for reasons that remained a perceived infection of her frontal lobe. She would watch him through the video-feed and wonder why she wasn't doing something else with her time.
Currently, that day, that very same day, she was watching Richard play with his dog. It had been hours on the screen for some reason, enough to distance and come back. For that reason Samantha had a cup of tea in her hand. There were many reasons to suggest that Richard was getting tired, while the dog seemed to be an endless fount of that same energy. It was frustrating even for Samantha, who was only standing not running.
Before too long, Richard's dog (brutus, by the way) was leashed, and led on that controlling bit of leather out of the park. Samantha watched in releif, soaking in her tea.
Stranger meets the doctor
Stanley was an ordinary man. He had a mind that was defined by newspaper clippings and the figures broadcast in the end and beginning of everything. How was that possible? Well, in the world he lived influence came through the wire, not just from interpretation. Dimensionally, it might be termed "magnified." It had been thorougly designed by visionaries in the field, some of them long dead and some of them still alive.
And so when he stepped out he was met with the blood sweat and tears of those involved, those not having the slightest effect; everybody brought into the mix. He looked up at the sun and nearly folded into a ball, ready to roll into the gutter, burnt to a crisp like a discarded thing. But this was all his imagination. Nothing would happen because everything would happen.
The very next thing was to go see a doctor. This was something that happened immediately and with a lot of talking. Stanley talked to the left and sideways until he was completely up the wall. There were some important things said. Among the things was a box, a metaphorical box but also one that seemed to have realistic material connotations.
"So is there anything else you would like to talk about?" Stanley's Doctor asked, hands folded (he wasn't using them.)
"I don't know. It's a little bit like there are shades. Like I can't color it correctly. I can't even limit myself."
"Maybe you should try new things."
"Wouldn't that be like chasing my own tail?"
"Dogs seem to enjoy that." Stanley's doctor sighed and went over to the window. "I can only reccomend that you try to observe. That's all."
"Partially or impartially?"
The doctor smiled. "Whichever you please."