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Monthly Writing Prompt
For this month's writing prompt write a scene using the following sentence to start;

The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone?

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Our monthly writing tips are written by our very own TerishD. You can read more in Terish's Blog located in "The Abstractions" area of the forum.

Look Back

When not able to write ahead, it helps to look back. In my case I had written a paragraph ahead of the story. What I needed to do was add a section of exposition (talking) presenting some facts. In going back, I realized that I could insert a section where a 'tour' of the surroundings could be done. This allowed for character interaction, story development, and other things that enabled me to present the facts in an entertaining manner.

One should not face a writer's block with the mentality of bursting through it. I have found in my own experience that a writer's block is usually due to my mind indicating that it has a problem in 'channeling' the story. One reason might be a re-imagining of certain story points. Another reason however is that there is a problem in where you are at in the story, so you need to look back and find out the problem with the 'journey' that prevents the tale from advancing.

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 Boom (All Parts of Three)

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Number of posts : 1324
Age : 59
Location : Ringgold, Louisiana
Current Mood :
Registration date : 2008-07-21

PostSubject: Boom (All Parts of Three)   August 16th 2012, 4:01 pm

A Fight for Recognition
Story Fifteen: Part One

Birds of a Feather
Sherita looked to her brother rather shocked when he did not take the news on the television in the same manner that she did, but fumed, “Damn! The damn Minnow goes and steals our thunder.” He spun to point at the lady while declaring, “You had us wait until Wednesday!”

“Brian,” she did allow some stress in her voice just to put herself as an equal to her brother, “We had things taking our time. I do not know what stresses the Minnow has to his schedule. Anyway, where he is advancing his technology does not affect us.”

He calmed while saying, “No, I guess not. How many sets of tires have you made?”

“I will have four by Wednesday.”

“Counting the ones already on your bike?”

“No. I don’t count those, because I have been practicing with them.”

He glared at her, but then asked a question that caused her to glare back at him. “Okay, so what do we actually need to do on Wednesday?”

“How about seeing if you can help me match what Professor Nathan does with my shoes? He has given me a lot more control over them. I don’t know if I need that with my wheels, but I want you to think about it. That will be the only way to keep him from completely sharing my patent.”

Sherita relaxed in her chair at the dining table in her brother’s house. His wife now knew about the secret that he and his sister had been keeping. Sherita had not been upset at the revelation, as she had to admit that some of the ways he came home would have caused suspicion. Brian’s wife had laughed at the revelation, then kissed both of them expressing her joy to find out that her husband had been protecting his sister from the rigors of being a superhero. Sherita found myself being welcomed into the home as being something good for the man of the house and not a family annoyance.

Brian looked asked his wife to get him another beer, then as she moved to the refrigerator he asked his sister, “Do you think the Minnow built that spaceship by himself?”

“I don’t know, but he has been active a couple more years than I have. I guess that he had time to make it.”

“They say that he went to Germany. Why Germany? I bet that he was looking for a manufacturing plant.”

Sherita could not prevent herself from saying, “Cannot beat German engineering.” Before her brother could speak about the quality of American motorcycles, she added, “I hear that about Cindy, Larry’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah. She is from Germany. That white dude can’t be the Minnow. He talks way too much.”

“He is smart though, and in shape.” Sherita thought back to her own activities with the other superhero in town, and had to further admit, “He is the right size as well. Larry however is just too willing to do things without being the Minnow. I know of a couple of situations when you would have thought that Larry would have changed into his supersuit, but didn’t.”

Brian’s wife did not know Larry, so had the two fill her in on the young man. By the time they were finished, they had listed a number of reasons that he could not have been a superhero. Brian’s wife did not challenge the conclusion, but spoke about what the pair felt might suspect.

“Okay, the Minnow is not this Larry. Still, the Minnow might dress in black, but do you think that he could be black?”

Brian replied, “No, he’s white. Everything he does or doesn’t do – like talk – says that he is white.”

Sherita had to add, “He is nice, though. He has always been willing to help.”

“Yeah, but he is going into space. Just paving a way for another group of white people to get away from the rest of us.”

“I don’t believe that at all.” She saw the glare from her brother, but matched it as she declared, “He has not been picky about who he helps. He has helped me a few times, and it is obvious that I am black. I don’t know what he is doing, but he is not running from anyone.”

“Still, Sherita, it is time that you took your technology to someone.”

“Bull. The Minnow is advancing his technology. There was no statement of some company working with him. They were in fact speaking of problems with what he did because it did it alone.”

“Yeah, damn government expects us to jump through all these hoops.”

I did not reply that there were no hoops as long as we kept our work secret, but simply said what I considered important. “Wednesday is still on.”

Brian was about to take another sip of beer, but stopped to say, “Oh, yeah.”

Worried about Nothing
Captain DeStran rolled over in bed and grabbed his phone. He was awake, but just without any reason to get up. The phone did not change anything, but he brought the thing to an ear while continuing to lie down.

The voice of the general asked, “Captain, why were we not informed?”

“I filed my reports.”

There was an audible sigh before the general asked, “Captain, have you seen the news?”

He did not move. “Nope. Watched the Weather Channel last night, but that was about it.”

“Well, we tracked the Minnow most of yesterday with the new channels getting word and doing their own investigations. The Minnow flew to Germany.”

“Whoa. I did tell you that he was planning such a stunt. Never claimed to be in the loop, but just in the know.”

“Could you contact the man and ask him his next step?”

“Let me see… Today is Saturday. He should be at the house. After doing an experiment, and I assume this was an experiment, he generally sits around his house and studies the data. If he is not there, I know where to check. Yes, General, I should be able to make contact.”

Captain DeStran felt that he could get a few beers as well, so ended the call rather glad for the heads up from the superior officer. His positive attitude continued when Larry answered the phone and admitted that he was studying some data. Hearing that there was beer in the freezer, Captain DeStran felt that he now had a reason to get up.

Driving toward the college campus, he suddenly put on his brakes hearing an explosion and seeing smoke come from a car whose rear end was descending. Realizing that a situation was occurring, and that he was unofficially one of the local superheroes, Captain DeStran spun the wheel on his vehicle to give him a view of the situation. Feeling that procedures needed to be followed, he found a parking place and parked while determining his course of action.

The costumed man in front of the vehicle declared, “Wrong move, African turds.”

Seeing the black men in the car suddenly come out readying guns, Captain DeStran went back to his vehicle. Actually wanting to be obvious, he put on his gun belt, then grabbed a rifle. He strode to another vehicle that was closer to the action, then knelt to use it for protection and to steady his aim.

The man in front of the smoking car was white, but there was very little skin showing. He was dressed in what appeared to be a yellow cowboy uniform with red trim. The cowboy hat was red, but a black covering masked his complete face. Only his ears stated his racial identity, although black hair indicated that the man could have non-European blood. He however spoke some racial slurs as if he was of the blessed race.

Those that had been in the vehicle let their weapons speak for them. Captain DeStran considered firing a warning shot, as no one made any sign of recognizing his presence. He however paused upon noticing that the bullets directed at the costumed guy did not deliver their messages.

“Sorry, ebony douche rags, but I am in charge of impact. They only happen around me if I allow them to.”

He reached down to pick up a bullet. The man stood to hold the object in the palm of a hand while facing one man that Captain DeStran had seen come from behind the wheel of the now ruined car. He then dropped after the costumed figure said a single word.


Bullets again flew from the guns of the black men. The costumed guy simply laughed. Feeling that he needed to stop things before anyone else was hurt, Captain DeStran fired his rifle.

Everyone turned obviously being able to tell that the quality of weapons had escalated with the one in costume smugly saying, “Well, it is about time that the cops showed up.”

Captain DeStran proudly declared, “Not the police, but the Marines.” Realizing that as a soldier he was not authorized to handle the situation, he decided to state another qualification. “I am Sir Soldier, one of the local superheroes.”

“Well, what do you know. I am a local superhero as well. I am called Boom.” Pointing to the black men, the white guy declared, “You can leave these niggers to me.”

Captain DeStran did not hesitate to say, “I believe that those niggers are proud Americans. It is my sworn duty not to see race, creed, or levels of stupidity, but only differentiate between Americans and non-Americans.”

“Well, I’m in the right.” Boom pointed to the row of stores a distance away as he said, “I am trusting that they have a security camera to verify that.”

The sounds of sirens brought some relief to Captain DeStran as he said, “Then let us simply relax until the proper authorities arrive to properly handle the situation.”

The black men spoke some choice words then acted to run. Seeing Boom kneel to grab another bullet, if not a few, Captain DeStran felt that he needed to take action. He thus fired his rifle again. Everyone stopped their movements.

“I said wait!”

Boom said, “Yeah, niggers, as if he won’t kill your running ass, I will.”

One of the black men looked to the Marine as he replied, “You don’t understand, man. We have drugs.”

Captain DeStran replied, “You know that it would have made the situation a lot better if you could have Boom look like the bigoted ass-wipe that we all feel he probably is.”

“Well, you know how it is.”

“Not exactly, but it is the job of police to find out.”

Fantasy puts more requirements on the writer than any other fiction, because the world must be made as real before anything else can be real.
Adult Christian fiction quite different than all the usual lame stuff in that market.  "Dilemma of Dreams" now in hard back.

Last edited by TerishD on August 26th 2012, 12:06 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Part Two   August 21st 2012, 3:10 pm

A Fight for Recognition
Story Fifteen: Part Two

It turned out that there was a couple of security cameras set to record activity on the parking lot. What was better, was that even with it being Saturday there was actually someone on duty watching the images. Being an actual Marine, and having helped apprehend criminals in the past, the police allowed Captain DeStran to work through the investigation with them. He thus saw the footage of the black guys driving up, then getting out to harass another black man. As some pushing occurred, Boom showed up. He did not help the situation, but the black men, even the one being harassed, decided to leave to handle their business in private. That was when Boom displayed his power on the front of their car. Captain DeStran really did not need to see any more of the security camera video, as he had witnessed it personally.

An officer said, “Well, it does not look good for this Boom. Besides being accused of hate crimes, he also stands accused of assault. The lawyers are going to have a field day.”

Another officer, also white, said, “Captain DeStran, you said the n-word as well.”

“Oh come on, I did not say it with any intent to put the men down.”

“It still could come up.”

“Well, it’s on the recording, but my intent…”

A black cop said, “Calm down, Sir Soldier. Nothing should come of it, but who knows what the lawyers will do. Those black men are up on drug charges, so they might seek ways of brushing over their own violations.”

As Captain DeStran issued a curse, a white cop asked, “Hey, Sir Soldier, do you know anything about the Minnow heading to Germany?”

Before he could reply, a loud sound like a muffled explosion occurred. Eyes turned to the active security monitors. People were quickly moving about, but as if looking for something and not as if fleeing danger. Some smoke could be seen, but it quickly cleared up. Captain DeStran thus stayed calm as the sound of someone loudly knocking on the door could be heard.

A patrolman looked to those in the room to say, “Boom just disappeared. He went – Boom, then he was gone.”

After some general cursing and watching the new recording, the officer in charge looked to Captain DeStran and asked, “Do you have any idea how he did that?”

“No, but I was on my way to speak to some science geeks about what the Minnow did. I guess that I can ask them about Boom as well.”

Making a promise about turning in a copy of his own report about the incident to the local police, Captain DeStran left to return to his business. He drove the rest of the way thinking of magic tricks in an attempt to figure out how Boom made his escape. Trusting in the minds of those he was going to see, he worked at organizing the events in his mind so he could relate the recent incident to others.

He parked on the road seeing Cindy in the driveway speaking to someone on a cell phone. She looked to him and waved as he got out. Instead of coming to him, she instead closed her phone and moved inside the house.

Captain DeStran saw both Larry and Professor Nathan wave to him as he entered the residence, although the younger man spoke to his girlfriend. “I cannot say how your parents connected the journey of the Minnow with my visit this summer, Cindy. Still, I am glad that they are anxious to have me visit.”

While moving to the refrigerator, Captain DeStran interjected, “Well, anything you do know about the Minnow’s trip I would appreciate hearing. I bought some videos and watched them instead of the news.”

Larry replied, “Well, I cannot say that I watched the television either. I however do know a few things. What I say will however just be comments as Professor Nathan and I read gobblygook.”

Cindy said, “Larry, let Captain DeStran read the data while you bring me to the store.”

“Sure – I guess. I thought that we had everything.”

“No. My mother and father told me to be a good German wife to you, so I thought to get some sausages and make some German dishes for you. Honestly, it should be healthier than what you guys usually eat.”

“Well, okay.” Larry seemed to sense the same dull tones that Captain DeStran detected, as the young man added, “I am sorry that we are so boring.”

“No, you are not boring. You talk to me and do other things. Plus, you hang out with Marines and Professors – good people. My parents were worried that I would come to America and get into trouble, but they know that I have not done that. They thus told me to stay with you.” She moved to kiss the young man, then said, “I guess that I will need to learn some science, so I can understand how it entertains you.”

“Give me a little bit more time, Cindy, and I believe that I can let you see just how fun this science stuff is.”

As Larry got up to prepare to leave with his girlfriend, Professor Nathan pushed a stack of computer paper to Captain DeStran while confiding, “It is a two-seater.”

Wondering how to make sense of the lines of numbers, the Marine asked, “What is your next objective?”

“The moon. The plane just won’t hold enough supplies for a trip to Mars.”

“Or the stars.”

“God help him, as that is where he wants to go.”

A Return of Boom
Brian went on another tirade upon hearing the news speak of another supposed superhero in town. Sherita had to go outside, as his rants were said loud enough that other family members in the house could have heard. She had at least been watching the news herself, so knew what he was speaking about. She still did not now how things about this superhero affected her own projects, but made certain that Brian understood that both of them had other things to do, so just had to wait until Wednesday before hopefully advancing their own technology.

Understanding the poor presentation of Boom, and simply hoping for another chance to test her tires in actual conditions, Sherita decided to go out as Ballet Slipper. She felt that simply riding down the main thoroughfare would remind the citizens that they had well respected superheroes in town that they could depend upon. While deviant personalities like Boom might show up to try and spoil the reputation of those working to advance the public good, others maintained a standard that was worthy of support.

No sooner did she turn down a street toward the major roadway than she heard people cheer. Some asked for her picture. She had worn her yellow outfit, which she considered her official one, but still did not stop to pose. She had come out to be seen, but not to gain publicity.

Screams sounded as the flare of a car exploding lit up the already bright sky. As the sound of an explosion came upon her, Sherita had already started her motorbike to the dilemma. She did look for police, as she knew to give them the authority in any situation. Without their presence, she however felt it her superhero duty to maintain some control.

As she pulled up to the vehicle, a number of people huddled inside. Seeing a mature couple in the front attempting to speak to what appeared as youths in the back seat, Sherita assumed that she had a family. Not seeing them flee the vehicle, even with the back burning, she became concerned. Pulling up close to the car, she found a white masked man in a full cowboy outfit step around the flames.

“Got a family of illegal aliens here.”

Sherita dismounted her motorcycle, then slid to the door on the opposite side of the vehicle than the man as she said, “Well, no reason for them die.”

“No reason for them to be here. They might as well die.” The man spoke louder upon not seeing her stop. “Black bitch, leave them alone!”

She signaled the family to flee as she said, “I happen to be a superhero. Rescuing people is what I do.”

“They are illegals! Law-breakers!”

Sherita really feared the man, as she heard the news report of his earlier activities. There was also the roaring fire from the car’s gas tank that she felt he was responsible for. While it was nice to see the people getting away safely, she still felt a need to confront the man.

“I am not a cop, and neither are you.”

“What? I am a force for justice!”

Studying to be a lawyer, Sherita more than knew the status of her position. “You are no more a duly deputized officer of the law than I am. We are nothing more than local citizens attempting to promote the public good. It is not our job to enforce the law. There are laws against being vigilantes. There are things that we can do, but there are limits.” To reinforce her words, she added, ‘Destruction of property is a crime.”

“They were getting away!”

“To do what? Return from where they came?”

“I should have known that some nigger momma would not understand.”

The news report had mentioned the language used by this man. Sherita considered herself above such terms, although the choice of words still did not please her. She definitely knew that getting angry was no solution. She thus kept her face calm while considering a method of using language to her advantage.

“I should have known that there would be fools showing up that would try and ruin the name of us attempting to make the world a better place.”

“Oh, yeah? I happen to be a superhero, black bitch. Unlike you, I have a real superpower. Boom.”

Sherita was expecting something. Having the car suddenly launch itself at her was scary, but she had been putting her life on the line for over a year. She thus kept her calm and activated her boots. Her body thus slid back with the vehicle. Seeing the curb coming, she did a back flip along with a spin to reorient her momentum. When the tires hit the curb, Sherita heard the man say ‘Boom’ again to keep the car moving, but she was already sliding away from any harm. He had his focus upon the damage the car was causing, so did not see her curve toward him. She thus hit him without him expecting it.

Sherita did not want to listen to the man speak anything racial, so when he said, “Wrong move,” she punched him in the jaw before he could say more.

He glared at her, then just said, “Boom,” and Sherita felt herself hurled into the air.

Fantasy puts more requirements on the writer than any other fiction, because the world must be made as real before anything else can be real.
Adult Christian fiction quite different than all the usual lame stuff in that market.  "Dilemma of Dreams" now in hard back.
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PostSubject: Part Three   August 26th 2012, 12:12 pm

A Fight for Recognition
Story Fifteen: Part Three

Not a Hero
I really had not planned to take Cindy far. She however mentioned some ingredients that the local supermarket would not have. I did know the city rather well, so after speaking with Cindy I agreed to take her where we felt we could find some things.

Finding Kingston backed up with traffic really was not unusual. With it being the only major thoroughfare for the city, it did clog up rather easily. Cindy would normally turn on the radio if I did not, but with both of us discussing her conversation with her parents and the proposed meal I only focused on her when my eyes were not on the road. Hearing her mention seeing an explosion gave me an understanding for the traffic, but hearing Cindy mention seeing Ballet Slipper’s motorcycle caused me to pull off the road.

I did not know what I could do. It was not that I had Cindy with me, but that I did not have any of my Minnow stuff with me. Whatever I might do, I would do it as Lab Stooge and not as a superhero.

One advantage to my superhero identity was that I did a lot of aerial movement. I did not simply train with my wings, but also maneuvers to mitigate damage should I fall. Seeing Ballet Slipper sent into the air, I rushed to her. I jumped on a car to catch her as she descended, then rolled to break both of our falls. She had the advantage of wearing a padded uniform, but I had a few more years of being active. We thus rose from the ground together.


“I’m here with Cindy, but at the moment you’re my girl. Go get him, Break Neck.”

She paused before returning to the situation as if worried about going back into action. “I was scared that I might have really broken my neck.”

Wanting to restore her confidence, I admitted, “I’m an asshole for calling you that.”

“No, Larry, you’re a friend. That guy is an asshole.” She looked to her bike, then smiled at me as she said, “But I will get him.”

She rushed to her bike, and I faded back to what I felt was a safe position. I was glad for my action, as Cindy came to me. She was worried about me having hurt myself. I told her that she could tend to me later, but at the moment I would continue to provide help to Ballet Slipper. She looked around, agreed that we were in relatively safe position, then watched with as Ballet Slipper moved to her motorcycle.

The unique sound of her bike grew in volume as she revved the engine before releasing the brake. She did a wheelie while accelerating, then dropped her front wheel before beginning to slide. I noticed that no trail of oil followed the maneuver. It made sense for her to attempt putting her technology on her tires after the near disaster with the man able to expel large amounts of flammable farts. She however did not know of the improvements that Professor Nathan made to her process, so I worried about some of her earlier problems now being multiplied. I now heard the sound of her opponent taunting her as her motorcycle came upon him.

“Good, black momma, bring your bike to me to destroy. Boom.”

The force did not hit the motorcycle dead center. It thus spun. Ballet Slipper made her name using twirls as she went into action, so the angular momentum did not bother her. In her early days of performing her stunts, her shoes were not dependable, so she also learned to deal with odd applications of torque. The blasts from the man thus were easily dealt with by the superhero which bothered him. If she managed to close enough to deliver a blow, it was however not able to strike true. I however sensed a flaw in his defense as the opponent lifted an arm to shield his eyes from a spray of dirt and pebbles as Ballet Slipper brought her bike back under control.

As the man and superhero repeated the action, Cindy tapped me to direct my attention to some police attempting to get my attention. I saw them signaling me to come to them. I told Cindy to stay, then went to ask the police about what actions I felt needed to be made.

“Officer, do you have a shotgun?”

“Son, we are not going to kill him. We however want you out of the way.”

“You don’t understand. I am not talking about deadly force. Listen, I am going to my car over there – the green sports car. I am going to get what you need to take that man out.”

Another cop asked, “Who are you?”

“Lab Stooge. I am a student at the college. When people have questions, people like Ballet Slipper and Sir Soldier, they come to the science departments at the university asking questions and generally they have to go through me. I might only be a sophomore, but I do have some learning.”

“And what do you think is an answer?”

I again told them that I was going to my car. A policeman followed as I moved low to my vehicle. He watched as I easily grabbed a leather bag from under the driver’s seat, then searched through the contents.

“I’m a local boy,” I exclaimed, “so have been taught a certain way. One thing I was taught was never have an unloaded gun. I have a shotgun to protect my property, and if I get out in the yard using it, I have this bag available so I can reload.” I picked out two shells and handed them to the officer as I said, “This is what you need to take out that bad guy.”

He looked at the shells, then asked about the marks he saw written. “What is R S?”

“Rock salt.”

The policeman smiled, then turned to his fellow public servants to ask for a shotgun. Permission had to be gained by a superior, but soon my shells were being put into an authorized weapon. The only problem then was to move into position, as the range on rock salt was not that good. Ballet Slipper saw the cop moving with the shotgun, and turned upon being blasted away again to glide near my position.

“Larry, what is that guy doing?”

“Rock salt. He needs to get in close.”

Upon seeing her mouth, ‘Rock salt,’ I lifted my arms to imitate the man shielding his eyes from the spray of normal materials. She grinned, then nodded. When I told her to get back to work, she told the policemen that she would do her best to cover their comrade.

Seeing her take off toward the man, a policeman asked me, “Hey, you her sidekick?”

“I guess so,” I replied, “as my jokes are bad, and I do have a good idea every once in a while.”

While Ballet Slipper did her best to keep the man occupied, he still saw the policeman dashing to get in close. “Haven’t you learned your lesson? Bullets do not harm me!”

The man was trouble, but I really had not heard about him. The burning car along with the actions of Ballet Slipper let me know that I would have had difficulty fighting him. Each application of his power was matched with the word, ‘Boom,’ but I did not know if he truly needed to say it. I however knew that the policeman would be in trouble should the word be directed at him.

What saved the day was the confidence of the bad guy. He saw the cop, but kept his focus on Ballet Slipper. The way she kept coming back seemed to bother him about the strength of his power and the concern that she might actually manage to overcome him. He however did not seem worried about the cop at all. In one pause as the superhero overcame another blast, the bad guy confidently turned to face the cop.

“Bring it on! You can’t hurt me.”

The policeman took the dare. He stood up and fired. For a moment I thought that my plan had not worked. The bad guy simply stood in place. The policemen laughed and cheered as the face of the bad guy turned to shock as his hands began moving about his body.

“What? What did you use? This damn stuff hurts!” Seeing the policeman ready my second shell, the bad guy said, “Boom.”

I thought I saw the man flying off, although he moved up so quickly that it appeared as if he disappeared. While I heard the policemen speak of him getting away, I told them that they now had the answer for dealing with him. They agreed, and thanked me for my help. I signaled for Cindy to come to me as I told the cops that lab stooges do not get any credit, but it is instead claimed by their superior, which in this case meant Ballet Slipper. I then asked the cop if I could leave and help get the superhero from the scene, and they agreed.

I hit the back street to see Brian waiting in his truck. I came up behind Ballet Slipper, hopped out to help her put her bike lying down in the back bed, then told her to get in my car. Being a sports car, it was a tight fit, but Cindy helped Sherita out enough of her uniform that she felt she could safely move into her shed. We spoke about the action of her bike with me mentioning seeing her eventually again needing to use the oil. I got a nod from her that I could speak about the things with Professor Nathan as I dropped her off on a back street to her house.

Cindy almost bothered my driving as she showed her pleasure in seeing me work with Ballet Slipper. Her giddy attitude made shopping fun, and I believe her playfulness had the man in the meat department give us more for less. On the way back, Cindy complained about me not inviting Ballet Slipper to our gathering. I drove us back to my house hearing my girlfriend speak with pleasure after being reminded that Sherita’s number was on my cell phone.

Coming back into the house, Captain DeStran said, “We watched the situation with Ballet Slipper. You know her?”

“There are benefits to being a lab stooge.”

Professor Nathan asked, “Did you invite her over?”

Cindy replied, “She said that she might, but first she needs to work on her tires.”

Captain DeStran asked the young lady, “You know her?”

“Yes, she is sweet.”

“I hope that she comes over, so I can meet her, although I believe that I could recognize her out of the uniform.”

I replied, “Given the setting, probably. Others that know her however have not made the connection.”

“Like you.”

I turned my head, and felt relief seeing that Cindy had moved into the kitchen. “Yes. Skin tight uniforms do not protect you, and are too revealing.”

Captain Destran tapped the piles of paper, then said, “Professor Nathan says that you plan on going to the moon.”

“I don’t see that as a problem, except the distance. My technology really does not gain high enough velocity for moving between places quickly.”

From there we began speaking technical jargon. We three men had a good time speaking business, and Cindy seemed to enjoy just being there to support us. We did not ignore her, but it seemed that she mostly ignored us, as she never made a connection between our discussion and me being a certain superhero.

Others did show up as the sky turned dark. Some wandered from the college knowing that I would occasionally have cook outs. The German cuisine did not interest most, so the party stayed private. Sherita did not show up, although her brother did. Sir Soldier however did not make the connection between the large black guy that spoke of cars and bikes and a certain female superhero. The day thus ended with no real secrets being revealed.

Fantasy puts more requirements on the writer than any other fiction, because the world must be made as real before anything else can be real.
Adult Christian fiction quite different than all the usual lame stuff in that market.  "Dilemma of Dreams" now in hard back.
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