Unsolicited

The text message simply said “very clever’.  Jim frowned at the scuffed up phone screen trying to make out the phone number.  ‘Unknown’ it said.  Helpful, he thought as he rolled his eyes probably some spammer and he put the phone back in his pocket..   He returned his attention to the meeting, although he hadn’t missed anything.  Somebody with a thick accent was monologuing on the conference phone, reading line for line from his PowerPoint which was being projected against the wall at the far end of the room.

“...team would take over issues at the beginning of their work day...”

Ten of Jim’s teammates sat around the grey table under beige walls staring at their laptops, not even pretending to pay attention to the presenter but instead trying to get ahead of schedule on their assigned tasks.  Jim looked at his laptop, changed windows and pressed “Send/Receive” in Outlook hoping for any external stimulation but no new emails came in.

“...an hour or two of overlap is essential, this enables hand off of any issues…”

With a sigh Jim opened Facebook, scrolling through his feed, not really seeing anything for a few minutes then closed the tab.  He glanced up at the presentation, trying to pretend he was paying attention, his gaze snagged on Tina who rolled her eyes and smirked at Jim.  Jim shut his eyes and dropped his head a few inches, miming falling asleep, but quickly so no one else would notice.  When he opened his eyes again Tina was smiling and shaking her head before straightening up in her chair and returning her attention to her laptop.

Jim looked back up at the PowerPoint presentation.  The slide had changed and been replaced by a flow diagram of some sort.  There were boxes representing his team and their overseas equivalents.  Lines connected the boxes into a circle which surrounded a cloud.  The wall beneath the projected cloud was marked up by dry-erase marker.  Some moron who had used the room before them had decided the thirty by five foot whiteboard on the side of the room wasn’t good enough and written on the wall.  The marking was illegible, it looked like someone had spent some time trying to clean it before giving up.  By this time next week the wall would be repainted.

“... are there any questions?”

The ever anticipated keywords indicated they were nearing the end of the presentation.  Jim’s eyes snapped back to attention and refocused on the slide.  It had one word on it, the letters were a foot tall.  Jim held his breath, hoping nobody would have any questions and they could get out of the meeting 15 minutes early and head to lunch.

“Yeah,” Rick, his boss leaned forward, speaking into the conference phone in the center of the table.  A totally unnecessary effort since one of the many peripheral microphones was clearly six inches from his face.

“I was wondering if you could elaborate on…”  Jim leaned back in his chair stretching his arms up over his head.  His spine cracked in a few places and he grunted, stifling an exasperated groan.  The presenter responded to his question, then there were follow up clarifications.  When the follow up queries were exhausted he asked again if there were questions.  We could get out seven minutes early now, Jim thought… but someone else had a question.  This pattern repeated itself until there were two minutes left and everyone magically ran out of questions or maybe they all just stopped caring.

“Well…” the voice paused dramatically, giving everyone last chance to delay their lunch break, “if you have any other questions feel free to email or message me.  I’m online late most nights and I know this is a big change, so don’t hesitate to ask questions.”  Jim felt himself holding his breath again, the speaker paused again.  “Thanks for your time, have a great day!”

There were mutters of agreement and reciprocation all throughout the room, Rick stood and leaned over the conference phone, his finger on the ‘hang up’ button, he practically shouted into the phone.  “Thanks for the presentation, Igor!  It was very enlightening, we’ll be in touch”.

There was a click and the lights on the phone went off.  An audible, collective sigh of release filled the room.  Tina chuckled, “So it took him an hour to say ‘make sure you get a status update from Europe when you start in the morning.”  Jim rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Rick shook his head, “it’s important that we are all on the same page and don’t drop customer issues.”

“Is he expecting us to have an hour long sync meeting every morning?” Jim groaned.  Luckily nobody heard him over the shuffling of feet, laptops, and coats as everyone hurried towards the doorway trying their best to not look like they were hurrying.

Jim hung back avoiding the bustle so he was one of the last to leave the conference room. The air in the hallway felt cool and fresh after the stuffy conference room he breathed in cleansing the musty smell of his coworkers from his head.

“Hey” came a voice from behind him.  He turned and saw Tina had been waiting for him.  Tina was pretty although Jim had never seen her as anything other than a friend.  She was a good foot shorter than him and naturally brunette but he only knew that because he could see her roots.  Every week her hair was a different color this week it was neon blue.

“You have plans for lunch today?”  She fell in beside him and they followed the rest of the horde back towards their desks.

“Not really, you wanna grab a bite in the cafe’?” Jim hoisted his laptop under his arm, dragging his feet and lengthening the distance between him and his coworkers.

“Nah, let’s head off campus today, what about that deli?  The one attached to the butcher?”

“Sure,” Jim shrugged, “I need to drop off my laptop” he lifted it slightly then gestured towards it with his head, “then we can head out, cool?”

“Cool, I’ll just meet you there.”

Jim’s cubicle was a mess.  Post-It notes were attached to nearly every vertical surface, and then knickknacks and notepads were strewn on virtually every horizontal surface.  No trash, Jim was messy but definitely not a slob.  He walked the single pace to the back of his tiny cloth lined cell and set his laptop down, attaching the cable lock and power adapter.  He turned to leave but something caught his eye.  Sitting in the corner of his cubicle nearest the entrance, hidden from view unless you were inside looking out was a doll of some kind.

Jim squinted quizzically at the doll and leaned over to grab it.  He didn’t know anything about dolls but he knew it wasn’t Barbie, it looked far too much like an actual human.  It was definitely made in the likeness of an adult.  He lifted it up and found a note was pinned to the back.  It read “but I found you anyway”

Car Crash

Naomi sat in the seat, staring into space, while the kids charged around above her, yelling at the tops of their voices.  Something about this situation was odd, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  Her thoughts came slowly and through a haze.  She didn’t know any kids, much less have any of her own.  That wasn’t it.  Something else was odd.  Why were they above her?

She opened her eyes and looked around the car her head throbbed and spun simultaneously, her stomach heaved in protest as she slowly turned her head. Every puke green surface was either sticky from some forgotten spill or dusty from long neglect.  The seats were empty except for a pile of old fast food wrappers stuffed into bags in front of the passenger’s seat.  The car rocked up and down as the children jumped and shrieked above her.

“Hey, knock it off!” she pounded with her fist on the roof of the car.  Her head seared anew in objection.  She rubbed her eyes and glanced through her windows, trying to remember where she was.  She was in a ditch on some back country road, identical to any number of roads in the Great American Wilderness.  Cloud white steam was pouring out of the front of her car, and she didn’t need to be a mechanic to see why, her hood was wrapped around the trunk of an ancient tree.

She pushed herself up and out of her seat, the door groaned tiredly into the quiet as she flopped her feet to the ground.  She must have dozed off while driving.  She stopped and listened, silence washed over here and pressed into her skull, she couldn’t decide if it helped the headache or worsened it.  She hesitated, then pushed herself to a stand, where had those kids gone?

She spun around and squinted against the bright sunlight.  There was nothing on the roof of her car.  Not even footprints, the layer of dust seemed completely undisturbed.  She looked around, maybe they’d gotten down?  But all she could see in any direction was wide empty fields.  She looked up and down the road, there was nothing, not even a bush.  She’d certainly picked a great place to fall asleep, her tree was the only one for miles.  Just a few more feet and instead of a tree she would have knocked over some wire fence.

Cursing, Naomi reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette.  She lit it and inspected her head in the side mirror.  She had a few scratches on her cheek and possibly a bruise below her eye.  There was blood running down the side of her head matted in her hair.  She probably had a concussion.  She groaned and sucked hard on the cigarette as she flopped back into a lean against the car door pulling out her phone.  No service.  Great.

She shoved the phone back into her purse as a crow landed on the road opposite her.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a phone, would you?” she asked it mockingly.  The crow cocked it’s head at her quizzically.  “Or know where those kids went, the ones that were just on my roof a minute ago?”  The crow took two hops towards her, watching her intently.  She squinted back at the crow, sucking hard on her cigarette again, the crow’s eyes fixed intently on hers the whole time.

“Don’t you have something better to do?  Like eating, or fucking, or something?”

“Caw!” the crow barked at her, Naomi stifled a jump then laughed at herself.

“Could you at least go get some help?” she spat back at the crow, then flicked her still smoking butt in it’s direction.

The crow watched impassively as the flaming projectile went wide, then returned its stare to her a moment longer before taking flight.  Naomi watched as it disappeared into the distance, envying the ease and speed with which the bird could go anywhere it liked.  As simple as stepping out the front door, left foot then right, and repeat a few hundred thousand times.

Naomi walked around to the trunk.  She didn’t need a key and there was no latch.  The trick was to hit it with your fist in just the right place...  It took two or three tries but she got it, the trunk clicked, notifying her of her success.  She lifted it above her head, the worthless hydraulic lifts wheezed. She rammed an old closet rod in to wedge it open and inspected her meager possessions.

Nothing was damaged.  She pulled out a bottle of water and guzzled it greedily, tossing aside an old box of flares with her other hand trying to find that box of meal bars she’d stashed in here last week.  She found the box but it was empty.  With a string of curses she tossed the box back into the trunk and repacked her bag.  She quickly went through the car, making sure she wouldn’t leave anything she might miss.  She didn’t bother to lock it up, or ever close the doors, she just started walking.

/r/WritingPrompts: James' Ants

It was 8PM and James sat in the park chewing his sub sandwich like he did every night.  He crumpled up the extra cookie he’d brought, allowing the crumbs to land on the ground in front of  him.  He listened to the sounds of kids playing in the distance while he watched the ants feast on their bounty.  He smiled sadly down at the ants.  “I wish my boss was as understanding as yours.  Even if she is a bit of a slave driver, at least she attends to all your needs.”  He took another bite of his sandwich and decided he had no appetite left.  He tossed the sandwich on the ground for the ants to have.  Some days it seemed his best friends were the ants and the in the park.  “Your contributions will not be forgotten” he muttered to himself. He guffawed at the irony.  Of course his credit stealing boss would say that.

He pushed his earbuds in and started poking at his smartphone, pulling up the day’s news.  “...nuclear plant had a close call today.  Officials are withholding exact details about the incident but it is clear that just after 3 PM Eastern today the plant evacuated all personnel and instituted a one mile quarantine around the reactor in question only allowing NRC officials in or around the plant.  We’ve been assured there will be no lasting danger…”  James stopped listening letting the sound of the voice wash over him as he stood and began walking home.  Was this all there was to his life?  Wake up in the morning, work twelve hours doing everyone else’s job eating a sandwich in the park with the ants then going home?  He certainly hoped not.

With a sigh he unlocked his door to his apartment and reached inside to flip the light switch.  He stopped when he felt something crunch under his foot.  It was a cookie, wrapped in deli paper, just like the ones that came with his sandwiches.  He frowned, reached down and picked it up turning over the pieces in his hand.  He shrugged.  Perhaps he’d have it with his lunch tomorrow.

James slowly began his evening routine, brushing his teeth, eyes bleary and tired.  He startled awake once or twice while still on his feet, finally he gave up on the routine and just went to sleep.  Tomorrow promised to be just as terrible and exhausting of a day as today was.  “Your contributions won’t be forgotten” he repeated mockingly then fell asleep.

James awoke at 6AM and went about his routine with a certain reluctance.  Today he had to present the department’s accomplishments to his boss.  His boss would congratulate him, pat him on the back and then present it to his own superiors, taking credit for both the presentation and the accomplishments.  He ate breakfast unenthusiastically, staring unseeing at the news on his phone.  More about the nuclear incident yesterday, some other news about strange behavior around town.  It seemed there was nothing like a close call with a nuclear plant to bring out the crazies.  More reassurances from people whose names James didn’t recognize, that there was nothing to worry about.

James cleaned up after his breakfast then put on his shoes and coat to leave. He opened the door and stopped short again.  There was a cylindrical paper package on his doormat.  That was odd.  He leaned out the door to pick it up, looking up and down the hall but nobody was there.  He picked up the package and realized it was a deli sandwich.  He began to unwrap the paper and noticed a large note scrawled on a napkin, perhaps in crayon?  It said “THNK YU”.  That was odd.  Who were these gifts from?

James walked to work, listening to music on his earbuds the whole way.  He tried to smile at people as he passed, feigning a skip in his step.  He hoped he could trick his subconscious into being cheerful.  It didn’t work.  The streets seemed emptier than usual and everyone he smiled at seemed jumpy or upset.  He got more than a few indignant glares.  When he got to the office he gave up on being cheery and nodded to the security guard as swiped his badge.  The guard indifferently wished him a good day and James navigated the corridors, heading directly to his desk.

He passed his bosses desk, still empty, no coat hanging on the hook and the laptop bag that usually occupied his chair was still missing.  As usual James was here before everyone, even his supposed leadership.  He smirked mirthlessly before rounding the corner to his own desk.

James worked all morning, polishing his presentation and catching up on e-mail from the night before.  He ate the sandwich and cookie for lunch, they were both exactly the way he liked them.  Somebody who knew him well had to have dropped it off, but who?  At 2PM he went searching for his boss, it was time for the presentation.  He swung by the desk and noticed the coat and laptop bag were still missing.  “That’s odd…” he said to himself.  He peaked around the corner at his neighbor, “Have you seen Bill today?”  The woman barely looked up from her keyboard and shook her head.  She mumbled something through a mouthful of food that sounded something like, “no I haven’t”.  James shrugged and went back to his desk.  He spent the rest of the day catching up on work he’d fallen behind on.  Without Bill present he ended up having the most productive day he’d had in awhile.

6PM crept up on him and he decided to call it a day early, he grabbed his usual from the deli down the street and stopped in the park.  The sun was still out and he could hear the kids screaming and playing.  It was nice to head home when the world was still alive and awake.  He crumpled up a cookie for the ants and dug into his sandwich with a smile.  He was halfway through his sandwich before he realized they were gone.  No ants had come to claim his cookie.  Not even one scout.  He knew their hill was near here somewhere so he started looking around.  He saw a patch of dirt behind the bench that had been ripped up nearby, as though some construction workers had been replacing a line.  Maybe the anthill had been there and had been destroyed by the work?

James eyed the cookie on the ground sadly before finishing his sandwich.  Perhaps they were reestablishing somewhere else.  He finished his meal quickly then headed home.  Plugging in his earbuds again, he pulled up some local news.  The news caster was frantic, he could barely make out what she was saying, something about mutant ants?  Ravaging the city, killing, burning?  He looked up and around him, it must be a hoax.  He was pretty sure he would have noticed something like that, but the street did seem oddly quiet.  He shrugged and kept listening.  She continued to give a shrieking account of horror and destruction he laughed at how cheesy it was.  It sounded like a terrible attempt at an Orson Wells type broadcast.

Then as happens when you’re watching a horror movie he started to get jumpy.  The horrific accounts of violence seemed to be moving through the city and the pattern eerily reflected his own, as though the someone were clearing the way to his home.  This street was too quiet, where had everyone gone?  What was going on?  He turned up the alley to his apartment hurrying up the stairs.  Why hurry?  he chided himself.  He got to the top of the stairs and swore he saw something scurry around the corner at the end of the hall.  He shivered and tried to snap himself out of it.

James stuck the key in his door and shoved open the door.  He was almost hyperventilating.  He needed to take a breath and calm down!  He shut the door behind him a little harder than usual then flipped on the light.  He stopped and stared in horror at what was sitting on his table.  His boss’s severed head was upright on a plate staring right at him.  A look of terror frozen forever on the features of his face.  James crept closer even though he knew he should run.  He could see a piece of paper with beautiful red writing on it.  When finally he got close enough to read it he saw the words written carefully and clearly in blood “Your contributions will not be forgotten.”

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/46jil3/wp_you_like_to_leave_gifts_for_an_ant_colony_like/

/r/WritingPrompts: Handshakes

James Smith stared at his reflection in the hotel mirror, hyping himself up.  You can do this, you’ve come too far to fail now.  You have a firm handshake, firmer than anyone else in your class.  He closed his eyes and visualized his father.  James had grown up on a farm in Idaho, pulling potatoes and living a simple life.  His father had saved up everything, scraped together every last dollar he could to give James the opportunity to go to business school and now he’d graduated with honors.  Now that he’d finished the video interviews it was time for the face to face, and that inevitably meant a handshake.  He’d grown up hearing horror stories about how firm the businessman handshake had become over the centuries.  It was said that some of the wealthiest men in the world had their hands replaced with bionic implements to make their grips that much firmer.  Bone crushing grips that could turn coal to diamonds.  In school he’d practiced with his peers, growing up as a farm boy he had a naturally firm grip, his father, uncles, and neighbors had all valued a firm handshake, but he knew nothing could prepare him for the real thing.

Today James was meeting with Steve Johnson, a midlevel manager at Buffet Incorporated.  They’d spoken a few times during the interview process, Steve seemed like a pleasant guy but in order to have come as far as he had in his career he certainly had a formidable handshake.  James opened his eyes and checked his reflection again, firming his resolve he nodded and left the hotel room.

As he walked out the front door of the lobby, he eyed the waiting taxis trying to decide which one would smell the least repulsive.  He turned to a tap on the shoulder to find the doorman begging his attention, “Mr. Smith?”  James nodded, “The company has sent you a car…” he gestured towards a black limousine.  James stopped, that was odd, he was interviewing for a low level finance job, why would they have sent a car?  James tensed up but nodded to the door man stepping towards the car.

Before he reached the car Steve Johnson stepped out of the back.  He smiled at James and extended his hand.  James began to sweat.  He could feel it dripping along the insides of his shirt, collecting on his brow and around his neck.  James took a deep breath and received the handshake.  He was shocked at how quickly the handshake went, a brief touch and then Steve had yanked his hand free.  Could this have been a courtesy to a new graduate?  Was he sparing James the humiliation of a broken hand?

“It’s good to finally meet you face to face,” Steve was saying, “I’m sorry about the change of plans, but… well... “  He gestured to the waiting car.  James nodded feigning confidence and stepped into the car sliding across backseat.  Then he stopped cold when he saw who else was there.

Sitting across from him was an older man, with jovial face but intimidating eyes.  He had silver hair and a suit that matched.  Edouard Buffet, heir to the Buffet fortune and head-man himself watched him with a smile.  James had read about him in school and in preparing for his interviews, the man was a shark, cunning and smart, every bit as formidable as any of his predecessors.  “Hello James,” Steve slid into the seat next to James and closed the door, “I’m sorry about the change in plans.  After reviewing your application I wanted to meet you myself”.  Edouard grinned James just sat their agape, the car had begun moving and James hadn’t even noticed.  “I’ve taken a keen interest in your hiring because frankly, if all works out well, you’ll be reporting directly to me.” A million thoughts rushed through James’ head, he was thrilled that he’d done so well in the interviews, terrified to be sitting in the presence of this legend.  “Forgive my manners,” Edouard said suddenly, leaning across the car, “I’m Edouard Buffet,” as he offered his hand James could hear servos whirring and spinning up, the man had a legendary handshake, one that could crush the hands of some of the most formidable businessmen in the world.

James gulped, preparing himself for yet another handshake and he didn’t think he’d get off easy this time.  He thought back to University, “Business Etiquette 310” had an entire chapter on the handshake, the trick was to … was to what?  James’ mind went blank.  Edouard was waiting, amusement draining from his eyes being replaced with impatience.  James remembered his father, the disappointment he would feel if James failed in this.  Gathering himself he grabbed the man’s hand, remembering every handshake he’d ever had, recalling his father’s firm handshake when he was just a boy of 10, putting everything he could into this, he knew if he broke a few bones they would all laugh and say it was understandable, but James would be taken down a peg in these men’s eyes.  He squeezed, the whine of motors pierced the air in the quiet and tense car, James could hear grinding but with his adrenaline pumping he didn’t know if it was his hand or perhaps some other mechanism of the artificial appendage he held.

James looked up to meet Edouard’s gaze and was surprised what he saw.  The man’s face was red with determination, all hints of mirth gone from his eyes, sweat was appearing on his brow.  James abruptly broke off the handshake confused.  “That’s quite the handshake you have there,”  Edouard said with obviously feigned amusement in his voice.  He was casually rubbing the inside of his palm.

James shrugged, his confidence building.  “I worked on my father’s farm as a boy, I guess working with one’s hands your whole life gives you a firm grip.”  James smiled at Edouard who nodded skeptically.

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/45uat2/wp_the_year_is_3000_only_people_with_the_firmest/

/r/WritingPrompts: First Contact

"Land here," Commander Snu pointed at the largest continent on the view screen, they started descending through the upper atmosphere in a carefully practiced slow and nonthreatening manner.  From orbit they had established this was a Class 3 Civilization, either on the verge of total self-annihilation or migration to Class 4.  It was an opportune time to make first contact and Commander Snu had done this hundreds of times.  Their telescopic observations indicated the primary sentient lifeforms on the planet were bipedal and tool wielding.  Not uncommon, although unlike Snu's species they had evolved a total loss of their fur.

They came to a rest in the middle of a large clearing near a well populated area on the largest continent.  This seemed like the best place to make contact.  Snu grabbed two of his officers and they began making the descent of the ramp towards the ground. As expected a large group of the natives had flocked to their landing location, they were standing in a circle and at a distance from the ship.  Snu and his men walked down the ramp slowly and with carefully practiced precision, closed mouths baring no teeth, no facial movements whatsoever, arms spread slightly from their bodies and pointing at the ground.  After much trial and error this had been determined to be the least threatening possible approach to greeting a new civilization.

Once they were at the foot of the ramp Snu and his men stopped and waited.  The natives stood around and looked at each other, local military vessels were circling above their heads watching but making no aggressive overtures.  Eventually one member of the crowd stepped forward, slowly approaching them in an unpracticed imitation of the way Snu and his men had exited the ship.  Good, this meant they were open to cordial relations, if they weren't they probably would have been attacked before landing, but it still made Snu feel more relaxed.

Once the volunteer was standing before Snu he held his hand out in front of his torso.  Snu imitated him, then the volunteer moved his hand to Snu's and grasped it.  Not an uncommon gesture among bipedal species with two upper limbs and hands. It's a very natural gesture to symbolize "joining", although among Snu's people it was a intimate, usually preceding copulation.  Joining the service had certainly taught him to set aside his own modesty.  The volunteer's lips curled up and he started shaking Snu's hand up and down, there was a general increase of sound from the crowd. Snu's ears went back in alarm, but he still perceived no direct threat so he held his ground.

The volunteer was talking but Snu did not yet understand, the Universal Translator was still collecting data for comparison, and would probably be able to begin translating very soon.  They would record all conversations and review them later once the language was understood, but for now, this symbolic first contact was meant as a brief meeting.

Just at that moment he heard a gurgle and thump from his left side.  The bio monitor in the corner of Snu's vision indicated one of his men had dropped dead. Alarmed Snu ripped his hand free and retreated back towards the ramp, he crouched and his ears went up.  Almost unconsciously he raised his battle shield with a hum then everything went quiet, his HUD automatically swept his surroundings looking for threats.  Soon he established what had happened, insects.  A small insect had landed on Lieutenant and bit him, bit him!  Was this an attack?  Were these people attacking them?  Why, then, would they remain so near to such an obvious biological attack?  Just then the HUD alarms started going off and little specks of light started coming up.  Everywhere, the entire planet was infested!  Billions of them just within this little clearing, and the locals, they seemed completely oblivious!

"Retreat to the ship!" Snu ordered, and before he'd made it up the ramp they were already in flight.  Snu went straight to his command station and opened a communications channel with the homeworld.

"Sir, the first contact did not go well, first observations indicate that 'insects' are native to this planet and achieve unfathomably high populations!" The Admiral's fir stood on end and his ears went back.  "I recommend a total and complete annihilation of the star system, it's the only way we can be sure the infestation doesn't spread to other planets."

"Agreed," the admiral replied gravely.  "You will need to remain in system and prevent any vessels from leaving, although I gather from your earlier report that is unlikely.  We will begin dispatching the armada in preparation for Nova Induction"  The Admiral paused and took a deep breath. "Your vessel may have also been infested, you and your crew will have 3 days to prepare for the arrival of the fleet, make peace with your families and say farewell."

Commander Snu acknowledged the order wordlessly then terminated the transmission.  His crew knew the risks and would do their duty gladly.  There was no sufficiently effective way to sterilize against an insect threat, and any number could have laid their eggs or flown into the ship during their brief landing.

Who would have thought when they woke up this morning that they would be landing on the deadliest world in the known universe?

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3m6dux/wp_when_aliens_land_on_earth_it_is_quickly/

Rant: Corolla Rental House

I'm leaving out the address we stayed at for obvious privacy reasons and to protect the guilty

Once upon a time this property may have been "252 yards from the beach" (330 according to Google Maps).  From our conversations with neighbors who had rented their houses in previous years, according to the neighbors this hasn't been true for more than a year, the fences were up when they were here the same week last year, and the maintenance guy we met said the fence was put up about 8 months ago.  Maybe he meant 18 months.  This is where our problem started.  We rented this property with the understanding we would have a relatively short walk to the beach and arrived to find a 6 foot tall fence along the backyard with dozens of "No Trespassing: Violators will be prosecuted" signs along the back.  These signs very clearly block the path to the beach.  The only alternative routes take you North or South a few hundred yards and the routes add up to more than 900 yard walks.  The beach accesses all have "No loading or unloading" signs in front of them which means that for folks who rented here expecting a short walk (or drive) to the beach for small children and elderly family we were in for a rude surprise.  It seems that if their goal was to make it difficult to get to the beach, they succeeded.  We spent the first several days we were here trying to get the rental property to do something about it.  They advertised a 252 yard walk, we'd settle for 350.  The maintenance guy offered to put a gate in the fence but said he'd need to contact the owner of the adjoining property first, whom I think he made his opinion quite clear with the signs threatening prosecution. When the false advertising lawyers got involved, the rental property stalled on giving us any firm resolution.  Halfway through we gave up on getting them to give us any resolution while we were here.  I'm sure there will be further follow up, but in the meantime we tried to make the best of our vacation.

Which leads me to the generally poor status and disrepair of this property.  I mean, on the surface, this is a beautiful home, the layout is a bit strange and perhaps inefficient.  It's rare that you have to spend time exploring and drawing maps to find your way around, but it's a good looking house nonetheless, nicely furnished and very spacious.  We found the kitchen to be reasonably stocked with cookware (no waffle maker, but now I'm being picky).  By the end of the second day, however; we had a laundry list of broken fixtures and generally dangerous oversights.  We sat down in the basement and turned on the TV only to discover someone hard of hearing had been the last person to use it. Fine but it turns out the volume down button on the remote does nothing.  Covering our ears and approaching the television with our faces averted we managed to get the volume turned down to a survivable level.  It turns out two of the TVs didn't work at all, the equipment was improperly installed and configured.  Later that evening we pulled out the trundle bed in the basement and were stopped short.  The frame was so warped that the bed didn't even pull out properly.  I guess it could work if you like hammocks. That don't move. At all. A maintenance guy came by and spent the afternoon hammering on the thing and got it to pull out and hold the mattress in a mostly flat way, but it was still terribly uncomfortable.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the house, a few of us walked into one of the Queen bedrooms and turn on the light.  Or half the lights, as the other half of the bulbs were all dead, one of the end table lamps has a short in it and therefore wouldn't stay on unless you stand in front of it repeatedly shaking the end-table. Not how I want to spend my vacation.  I attempted to change one of the bulbs in the ceiling fan only to have the glass fall out of the fixture because the glue had apparently melted and ended up with a shock. By the third night the lights in the downstairs area had stopped turning on altogether. We're doomed to a life of darkness and eyestrain. And I wanted to do some reading!

There is a large shared bathroom between the bedroom with the two twin beds and the one with the bunk bed where the ventilation fan apparently doesn't work.  We see the fan, and several switches but nothing turns it on. Remind me to take my constitutionals somewhere else.

We were there in the middle of August and it was, as we expected, hot.  The house has Air Conditioning but it only seems to be capable of keeping the top floor cool.  This is fine during the day as it's where the majority of the food and socializing happens but at night we quickly realized something was wrong in the bedrooms.  Vents are open, we can feel a slight cool breeze, but with two people in these bedrooms were unable to keep them cool.  Our first night, with AC on our room got up to 90.  The master suite was 65.  I'm not an expert but something seems wrong here, maybe there's an obstruction in one of the ducts?

My grandfather who arranged this trip and generously reserved the house for everyone at no cost to us was livid at this point, he spent at least an hour a day on the phone with lawyers or the property managers. As a career politician he's learned to ask nicely in many different ways but he didn't seem to be making any headway. About halfway through our trip he settled down after one such phone call with a newspaper and a beer only to suddenly find himself on the floor. The chair he'd sat on had simply fallen apart, not broken but rapidly disassembled itself underneath him, flinging him backwards into the bay windows and then dropping him on the floor.

And these were just the highlights. Needless to say was not a happy customer and would not buy again.

Tales of McVurdy: A Guard's Mistake

His eyes popped open with a start.  He was surrounded by faces staring at him.  This all seemed familiar... He couldn't remember who he was.  The faces moved all around him in symphony but always staring at him.  He sat up and they sat up.  All the faces were the same.  They were mirrors.  Right, this is a mirror shop he thought to himself as things began to focus.  He looked around at the disarray.  There was a fire in the stove and mirrors stacked all around him.  This was where the mirrors were stored before he sold them.  How did he know that? He stood and did a slow circuit of the room.  His face gazed back at him hauntingly familiar yet unfamiliar in the mirrors he passed.  My name is McVurdy and I make the mirrors.  Things were coming back to him.  What had he been doing?  Had he been working late and dozed off?  He looked out the window at the dim light, either dusk or dawn, he couldn't tell which.  He walked through the door in the back of the shop to his work area.

For all the clutter and disarray in the front room, the back was even worse.  There was no organization here, only impulse and gut feeling.  Every day he picked up and dropped projects on a whim and left them where they lay.  Dozens of half-finished mirrors and their frames only partially affixed lay on the floor and propped against the wall. He walked to his bench.  There were two large mirrors propped against the wall facing him at an angle.  They had been set here to be framed.  McVurdy looked at his face in the mirrors, straddling both mirrors so he was split in the middle.  He closed his eyes and said a prayer to Maelstrom, The God of Chaos.  Nobody worshipped chaos anymore.  The prayers were all forgotten but McVurdy remembered.  How long had it been since the last temple had burned?  Longer than anyone living remembered.  As he finished his prayer he opened his eyes in time to see the mirrors quiver in response to the ancient blessing.

"Grandfather!" a woman's voice gave him a start.  He turned in time to see Shalae enter the room.  She was a heavyset middle-aged woman, to most people she seemed gruff and heartless but to family she was warm and caring.  She could be harsh with her words but her intent was for one's best interest.  McVurdy was not her grandfather, he was her great, great, great, great... He'd lost count.  Grandfather would do. "What are you doing here so early?  Did you go home last night?" She began to interrogate him. "You know you shouldn't sleep in that old chair.  You have a perfectly comfortable feather bed at home!" McVurdy stopped listening.  His life was coming back to him.  Like the fog burning off in the morning's first light, he could see his past, he knew who he was, but something was still missing.  Something was still off, the same thing that had been wrong his whole life, what was it?

"Are you even listening?" She broke into his thoughts.

"Yes, yes, of course!  I just woke with the sun and came in early" McVurdy lied.  "Sleep evades me in the early hours and I find it's useless to fight it."  She nodded knowingly.

"Well, we've a big day today!  That merchant from down south is coming by to pick up his wares and it simply won't do to have you lazing about!" The last she said with a wink and a smile

Just then they turn their heads to the front of a shop at a loud thumping and shouting. McVurdy and Shalae both hurry to the front and find a large gruff looking town guard steaming and fuming.  He had thrown a mirror on the ground but it was unbroken and was now staring at it in disbelief, muttering to himself about sorcery. The frame was made from gold and steel, interwoven like beautiful and elegant tree branches. McVurdy remembered this mirror, he'd sold it last month, why was it back in his shop?

"Where's my wife!" bellowed the guard, he was wavering on his feet and McVurdy could smell alcohol from across the room.

"Not here sir." Shalae replied as she calmly walked towards him. "You seem to have lost your way, perhaps I should take you home?" She reached towards his shoulder to begin walking him towards the door but he quickly jerked back and rounded on her.

"That's where I come from and she disappeared!" he bellowed at her.

Shalae stepped back and crossed her hands in front of her, "well, I can assure you she isn't..."

"Would you shut up!" the guard interrupted her, "She disappeared into this Gods-be-damned mirror you sold her!" His face was turning red, he seemed to be teetering somewhere between rage and desperation, McVurdy knew that this was a tipping point in the man's life, this emotional state could result in a man making decisions that would plague him until the end of his days. "She was brushing her hair and turned to walk away when her foot got caught on the ground and she fell into the mirror and..."  He looked on the verge of tears.  He was breathing quickly and heavily, maybe this would pass? He took a deep breath and rallied himself, rounding on McVurdy now, pointing at the mirror on the ground.  "She fell into that mirror and was gone!  It's unnatural! You're a conjurer! You will answer for your crimes!"

Shalae stepped between McVurdy and the guard "Now I say! There has been a great misunderstanding here, and we will get to the bottom of it".  The guard's eyes never left McVurdy's face, his courage seemed to waver.

"Perhaps you should follow her into the mirror?" McVurdy realized it as the first he'd spoken since the incident had begun.

The man's face softened and his temper seemed to cool, then there was a jerk, the familiar sound of a blade penetrating flesh, and Shalae falling to the ground.  The soldier's face twisted into a grin as he watched McVurdy scramble to her aid, only too late, the light was already leaving Shalae's eyes.  The guard began wiping the blood off his knife and turned toward McVurdy when suddenly he heard clattering in the back of the store. The murderer said "I'll be back old man, I'll be back with The Emperor's justice, you're filth will not be allowed to roam this world anymore!" and he left. Just as the front door closed the rear one opened.

"My Gods!" came a woman's voice.  McVurdy didn't look up to see who it was, he was too numb to care, too shocked to react.  He stood, disconnectedly he noted the front of his clothes were soaked in blood. "McVurdy sir! What's happened?" She was tugging at his sleeve, he dully registered her as one of the neighborhood children that Shalae would feed and teach. She saw her then, laying on the floor and fell to her knees, crying.

McVurdy strode to the front of his store, staring at nothing in general, he anger swelled in him filled his being with fire. He was no warlock or conjurer, he was just an old man who made mirrors.  He'd been making mirrors since... How long he could not remember, but he had done it as long as he could remember and he was sure longer than that.  So what if the gods sometimes answered his prayers and made the mirrors something more?  That was not his doing!

Then it dawned on him, he had been living a simple and orderly life for far too long.  The Gods were punishing him for his lack of disorder.  Servants of chaos should never be so comfortable, so harmonious!  He had failed his God and was being punished!  He would continue to be punished until he threw his life and world into complete disarray, he must make a tribute!

McVurdy studied his face in the mirror, watching as his long dull eyes became clear and filled with determination. He stood taller and it seemed to him his wrinkles even receded and his muscles swelled.  He was angry, and that petulant fool would pay for his crime. He turned toward the back of the store, the little girl was staring at him with something between awe and terror, he ignored her and went to the back room. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but find it he did.  Shalae had managed the finances for the store for the last several decades so she had been storing the coin in a large chest under the floor.  When he found the trapdoor he opened it and was not surprised at what he saw.  McVurdy had lived a long and modest life and mirrors sell well. By the measure of any other man he'd accrued a kingly wealth, but to him it didn't matter, it was the craft that motivated him.  Today he would spend money though, he grabbed a handful of coins and stormed out of the room.

He ran straight out to buy a sword and leather armor.  The shopkeeper asked no questions and gave him what he needed.  It was all the same to McVurdy, he just needed an instrument of death.  By the time the shop door was closed behind him McVurdy's vision was swimming with red.  He donned his new leather and strapped the sword to his side right there in the street.  Passersby gave him a wide berth and eyed him cautiously.  Once he was prepared he headed straight for the barracks where he knew many of the on duty guard would congregate while off duty.

Sure enough as he came around the corner he heard the raucous of laughter and drunkenness.  In McVurdy's heightened state he picked out the voice of his quarry.  It mattered not, they would all die tonight.

McVurdy kicked hard and the door fell away like paper before him, the guards all stopped in their revelry and looked up.  He spotted the murderer in the corner. "Boys, look what the fates have brought us!  It's the sorcerer mirror maker, get him!" and suddenly the men were all on their feet.  The walls echoed with the sound of swords unsheathing.  Some of the men stumbled, some wavered, but others were sober.  They all came towards McVurdy slowly with determination.  There were ten, and they didn't want a fight.  How did he know that?  He hadn't counted, and had he ever been in a fight, had he?  It did not matter, he felt no fear.

He glanced around the room and took it all in.  It was a simple dorm, one room, a table and some basic kitchen necessities at the back and the walls lined with bunks each jutting into the room.  Everything was old and abused.  He glanced at the walls, taking in hooks and armor strewn about and he saw two mirrors, both were fairly large and in another time and place may have seemed out of place, but there was only one mirror maker in town and McVurdy did not make small mirrors.  He took a breath shut his eyes and said a prayer to chaos readying himself for a fight.  When he opened his eyes again it was just in time to see one of the guards lunge at him.  McVurdy parried the attack and quickly swung around to the next sword. Swing, dodge, thrust, block, their swords clanged, he lost himself in the fight, minutes or hours passed, he wasn't sure.  First one guard went down, then another.  Sweat was starting to gather on his brow, he needed to take a breath, step back from the fight and gather himself, but there were still eight guards, and they weren't giving him a break.

"The old man fights well, but he tires easily!" one of the guards laughed.  McVurdy's vision was starting to blur, he couldn't tell which had spoken. Clang, steel met steel again, he shoved the swordsman aside then quickly finished him.  Three down.  He didn't have the stamina he once did.  When did he ever have this stamina? When had he learned to wield a blade?  A wave of confusion washed over him and he stumbled, suddenly there was pain in his side, then darkness.

His eyes popped open with a start.  He was surrounded by faces staring at him.  This all seemed familiar... Reality came crashing back around him, Shalae had been killed, he'd been in a fight, he quickly checked his side, but there was no sign of a wound.  Had he dreamt it?  He got up and walked to the front room.  Shalae's body had been removed but blood still stained the floor.  He looked at himself in a mirror, found he was still wearing his leather armor and a sword at his hip.  How had he gotten home?  How had the fight ended?

It did not matter he decided, checking a window he saw the world was covered in darkness, he had seen the mirrors in the guard's barracks, and he knew which they were.  One of the mirrors' had a partner here in his shop.  He walked towards his counter his eyes glanced over a finely piece of paper on his counter that hadn't been there before.  The edges bore gold and it was sealed with wax and a sigil he did not recognize.  He ignored the note and started digging through his piles, he knew exactly where it was, just beneath this pile, third one from the wall... and he had it.  He stared at it, looking past his reflection and smiled.

McVurdy drew his sword and stepped into the mirror.  He stepped into it as though it were a passageway, and in a sense it was. He did not know how it worked, he asked the God of Chaos to bless his mirrors, make them strong, and fill with luck.  He only wanted to prevent his client's needing to clean the mirrors, and save them from ever breaking, but sometimes something else happened.  They would link to each other and become passageways.  It wasn't a direct portal, one couldn't straddle the threshold, one was pulled in and spent a few moments in an in-between place.  The passage happened faster than the blink of an eye, but McVurdy had passed through enough mirrors that he was aware of it, if not familiar.

As quickly as it had begun it ended.  He was standing in the barracks of the guards, and as he had guessed the hour was late. Very late.  The fire in the hearth had burnt down, three of the remaining guards had passed out drunk at table, but the rest had found their way to bunks.  There was no discernable sign of his earlier fight.  No bodies on the floor, any blood stains blended into the floor with years of spilt bodily fluids and ale.  McVurdy crept through the dorm, approaching the bed nearest the mirror.  He examined the sleeping faces one by one and found his target.  The guard from his shop slept soundly.  He held his sword above the chest of the sleeping guard and hesitated.  What was he doing? This seemed such a dishonorable death, dirty and sly.  McVurdy shrugged, he was never an honorable man.

The sword came down with a crunch and a grunt.  The guards eyes and mouth popped open in shock then his face relaxed and his eyes dimmed.  McVurdy went to the next bed, again, he repeated this.  Three times he killed guards, one by one moving from bunk to bunk, but then, on the fourth guard his sword did not go cleanly through flesh as he'd hoped, but stopped with a loud clang.  The guards eyes popped open and a sword shot forward out of the bunk landing with a crash against McVurdy's sword as he deflected it at the last minute.   The guard swung out of the bunk to the side opposite McVurdy and cried out to the rest of the room "Oy, wake up!  We've got a visitor!"

Throughout the room came the clamor and commotion of guards suiting up.  Four guards remained, two seemed so inebriated they could barely hold a sword, the other two hopped from their beds ready to fight.  The guard McVurdy had awoke wore a toothy grin as he moved around the bed to corner him between the bunks his eyes suddenly widened and the grin vanished as he recognition dawned on him.  "You!  How are you here?  What is this witchcraft?" he shouted in surprise, the rest of the guards were congregating around the action with swords drawn, but still looking dazed and confused.  McVurdy surveyed his situation, he was stuck between two bunks each perpendicular to the wall and now he was trapped.  In this fight he would have a distinct disadvantage, there was no space to swing his sword and nowhere to run.  He might be able to fend off the guards for a little while but he would never get the range of motion he required here.  Hemust have let this show on his face because the guard's smug grin returned.

The guard lunged with his sword and McVurdy deflected it.  Suddenly he realized where he was, his circumnavigation of the bunks had placed him in front of the other mirror.  He recognized the mirror as his own work but did not recall to whom he'd sold it or its partner.  He did not know where this mirror led or if anywhere.  If its partner had been destroyed he might dive face first into a solid pane of glass, or he could enter the mirror and become stuck in the in-between place.  His opportunity was slipping away, with each swing and counter each time the guards took a step towards him McVurdy was being herded backwards, the mirror was just at the edge of his reach now.

McVurdy made up his and mind and dove.  He heard an abrupt cry of surprise before silence then he tumbled onto the floor.  He got up and looked around to see where he was.  He'd landed on fine carpets, he was in a large bed chamber with elaborate curtains drawn over the windows.  The walls were covered in tapestries, paintings, and shelves with gold and jeweled knickknacks. He would have appreciated the clutter, but it seemed to organized and purposeful for his taste.  His eyes stopped on the large bed in the center of the room.  There was a silk canopy draped around the posts.  He slowly approached the bed and as he got closer he heard the slow steady breath of sleep, his eyes began to adjust to the dim light.  As he approached the bed recognition dawned on McVurdy

This is The Emperor! McVurdy thought to himself.  A smile spread across his face in spite of himself.  He checked his sword, still covered in blood but sharp as ever.  He did not hesitate this time, the death of an emperor would bring unending chaos!  What a worthy tribute!  McVurdy's sword slid quickly and easily into its target, he took no chances and cut the emperor's throat clean through. It was done so quickly the man hadn't even woken, and now he never would.  He smiled to himself as he cleaned his blade on the soft bed sheets and returned to the mirror.

As he checked his armor and gathered himself, McVurdy carefully weighed his options.  The only thing he knew for sure was he had to leave here, and he would prefer to leave unnoticed, he could return through the mirror, but that could  put him back in the predicament he was in before.  The only advantage he had was the guards would likely not be expecting him to return, they in all likelihood would have gone searching for him.  He finally decided he would dive in head first and see what awaited him.

He rushed through the mirror running as fast as he could.  As he emerged from the other side he was greeted by a startled guard who reflexively jumped out of his way.  McVurdy took advantage of his dropped guard and ran him through with a sword as he charged into the middle of the room and swung around just in time to meet another blade with his own.  There was one other guard in the room, he could not see where the other two had gone.  McVurdy recognized them as the guards who had been unable to stand earlier, the one still standing had recovered some of his wits and was running at him with his sword out.  McVurdy had no patience for this, he danced with the guard, but quickly realized the man was still moving slowly as a consequence of drink.  In a few moments he'd slipped between the man's defenses and ended his life.

McVurdy turned to the first mirror and stepped through to his workshop.  He could see first light starting to appear in the window at the door, and as he watched he saw two figures walking towards his shop.  These would be the remaining guards from the barracks, McVurdy thought annoyed.  Would this night never end?  He stepped back from the window and to the counter, standing as though he were counting his earnings.  The lead guard heaved his weight against the door, the lock snapped easily and the door flew open.  They rampaged through the shop, knocking things over as they worked their way towards him.

"Sorcerous filth!" One of the guards called out as they came to the counter. "I'll bet-" McVurdy casually cut a rope tied to the counter.  It held up a large mirror on the ceiling just in front of him and with the rope cut the mirror came crashing down, large enough to slip over both of them it, slammed into the ground hard and fast and the guards were gone.  McVurdy walked over to the mirror with his hammer and chisel and hit it just on the seam so that the frame broke apart.  There was a low rumble and the mirror vibrated, then silence.  The mirror had been broken, no one would return through it.

McVurdy had just finished clearing the pieces of the mirror from the floor when he heard a sound at the doorway.  He turned towards the door to find a fat and lavishly dressed foreigner standing in the doorway.  The man stopped and inspected the damage to the frame and hinges then turned towards McVurdy.   Two squirrely assistants trailed after him holding bags and books.

"Good day." The rich man started as he entered the shop.  His eyes never met McVurdy and instead swung around the shop taking everything in, "Would you happen to be the proprietor of this fine establishment?" He asked.

McVurdy watched as the man ran his fingers through some dust on the counter, then waited for the man to make eye contact before he nodded affirmation.

"I left a note yesterday, I had hoped we could discuss purchase of your inventory?"  The man had resumed his inspection of the mirrors, pulling mirrors forward.  McVurdy just stared at him questioningly.  "I only mean that… I am looking to expand my businesses to this town and… You have quite the inventory here.  It would please me greatly to distribute your mirrors throughout the land and then perhaps use this space for a greater… variety of goods."

McVurdy nodded, this was great, now was a good time to move on anyways.  There was nothing left for him here.

"Great!" the merchant beamed, "You!" he pointed at one of his men, "Draw up the papers at once!"  The assistant began fumbling through papers and bags in a general panic.  The merchant turned back to McVurdy, "Did you hear?  The Emperor was assassinated last night, they say Juverians were responsible, just slipped in and out of the royal palace completely unnoticed!"  McVurdy tried to look shocked. "They say it will be all out war before the next turning of the moon!"  McVurdy nodded gravely but inside he smiled.  Yes, he had created chaos and now it was time to leave this place.