The End is The Beginning - WEP December Challenge

Round and round the circle of life goes, from beginning to end and beginning again. The End is The Beginning of a new cycle, a new life, a new chance.

Looking down from the bridge I could see the swirling depths calling. Here lies peace. But how do I know if I cross that line to the other side that there will be peace. How do I know that I won't still be in limbo, watching all those that live as I do now. A horrid contemplation.

My world,Terra, is disintegrating slowly but surely. As the water levels rise, more bridges are built, then man-made islands to be used by those displaced with the flooding in low lying areas. There are so many bridges now that soon that will be all that's left. The warming of the climate and the melting ice which used to change very little, is now reclaiming land which man has occupied for millennia. Is the planet deeming us unfit and trying to reduce the numbers of humans? Perhaps.

The news and travel channels are blasting out advertisements for'colony ships' which will transport people to safer planets. Other adverts cajole us to be one of the founding colonists of the Moon, our nearest neighbour, but that entails living underground most of the year. Mars also has underground colonies with only the scientific study areas and weather watchers on the surface. Terrans are having to make harsh choices, seeking to fix the problems born in the old 20th Century and proliferating into the 21st. Now at the end of the 21st century, we reap the consequences. The scientists say it will take 10,000 years or more for Terra to be habitable again. They say we were warned.

I see my partner coming toward me.

"Meli, forgive me for being late. It couldn't be helped."

"No worries, Jala, did you get the info for Mars?"

"Of course, but it took an hour's standing in line. A lot of people want to leave this planet, even the scoffers have admitted the truth; we will have to make our decision in a short time. Will it be the Moon or Mars? It's a tough call, but those are our best bets."

"I like the idea of being close to the mother planet, but can I stand seeing it die slowly? Now we have starships that can take us at least as far as the outer solar system, maybe further. Going to the Moon is the easiest, but Mars is the most interesting. Both force the colonists to live below ground - but we'll get used to that."

"You've got to get signed up now to leave on the next flight outward, so we must decide in the next couple of days."

"What did you hear on the street?"

"A lot of panic. Solar flares are causing a delay in the launching of the carriers. Storms seem to follow one upon the other, especially in the equatorial regions. Some reports say geysers of gas have been exploding from the ground in some national parks."

"Warning signs. Strong ones. Let's go for Mars, it used to be a planet and it's got a few colonies now. I think we stand a better chance there."

"I'll call and pre-register for Mars. We'll have to show up tomorrow to confirm identification, pay fees, and pick up starship tickets."

"This could be the beginning of another life, a life as spacers. Terra will be brought to its knees, an end not befitting such a beautiful planet. I hope without humans here, the planet can begin to flourish and become stable again sometime in the future."

One month later, the loading began. Our last vision of Terra was from the windows of the starship. I felt tears slipping down my cheeks. Goodbye, Terra. May we one day be able to return.

WC = 844 *****************

Have you had instances where you had to start over? How did you feel? Adventurous? Sad? Which colony would you choose between the Moon and Mars?

Please leave a comment to let me know you were here and I'll reply. Thanks for dropping by. 

MAY THE HOLIDAYS BE MERRY FOR YOU AND BEST WISHES FOR 2018!


*************
Write, Edit, Publish (WEP) - The Challenge

It's December and time for another WEP challenge - with the support team of Nilanjana Bose and Olga Godim adding their imaginings and creativity. Thanks to Denise and Yolanda for being the hosts! It's been a good year for great flash stories and these bloggers and the participants have kept us all interested.

Create an artistic entry: a poem, a flash fiction piece of 1000 words or less, a non-fiction piece detailing your personal experience or someone else's experience, write a script, draw your dreams, or post a photograph or a photo essay. The genre and the artistic choice are yours!

Be sure to check all the other entrants on the WEP participation list! This prompt could take us anywhere from the end to the beginning of something new. Hope you enjoy reading!

***

Reunion - The Wanderer - WEP August Challenge

Reunions are celebrated on ReUnion, a colony planet that has been settled for a few hundred years. Here is one of the stories from that planet.

Surface horizon of a planet, similar to ReUnion, free use image

ReUnion - The Wanderer


A Noah Generation II Starship arrived at the landing port with supplies to trade. The sleek stealth black wing design could handle hyperjumps and was equipped with hidden armaments in the exterior shell of the ship. The manifesto included grains, seeds, cloned animal embryos designed to withstand the rigors of space travel, and the latest inventions.

Captain's Log:
We planned to be here for a week, time to unload, reload, make a few deals. With the upcoming ReUnion Festival of Humanity opening in a few days, this place is going to be crawling with potential customers. I smell more profits. 

***

A red alert flashed indicating an incoming message to the bridge. The captain's raised eyebrows and his switch into action at one of the consoles confirmed this was a real call for help. No one else moved for a few seconds. . .

"Urgent. Mayday. SOS. SOS. Generation I, Colony Starship Wanderer, damaged from attack. Urgent. Come in ReUnion. Our call code is SSJ900. Mayday. Mayday...."

"Call Code SSJ900. This is NOAH , Gen II Trade Starship SST1100, Captain Jona speaking. Do you read me? I'm in contact with the landing agent on ReUnion. An emergency ship will be dispatched. What coordinates?"

"Coordinates sent. Thanks Captain Jona. I'm Pilot Olivar, our power level is depleting. We may need towing unless you have a mechanic who understands the old starship configuration. I can send the schematics."

"Great. I'll forward them to the agent. Your signal wasn't strong enough with all the interference of other ships landing and leaving."

"Can't boost it. Power level too low. I'll look you up later, Captain Jona. I owe you one, sir."

As he signed off, Captain Jona wondered if this man kept his word. Many say of things they will do, but few follow through. This could be an event of historic importance, a wandering explorations colony ship! He wanted to see the other ship and look up Pilot Olivar, once he arrived. 

***

Captain Jona obtained clearance to visit the ship, on the condition that he would act as liaison for the incoming Terran ship and its captain. 

From the notes of the meeting in the Captain's Log, Starship Noah, quoted verbatim:

"We are a exploration settlement ship which left Terra many centuries ago, an advance ship sent prior to the Great Evacuation. We have been searching for human settlements but only finding other species or humans who look like us. but are NOT like us. Searching so long . .then we were attacked several weeks ago by one of the free-running marauders. They usually travel in pairs but this one was alone. We used a lot of our power supply to escape the attack. We are grateful for your help.

"May we also express our sincere thanks to Captain Jona who heard our call for assistance and responded. Our pleas would have gone unheard if not for him."


Captain Jona winced, but smiled and nodded. No way was he going to stand and acknowledge his part. Nope. 

Pilot Olivar stood and looked at the few who were able to attend this momentous meeting. Privacy meant it couldn't be a public affair, only an inner circle could be trusted. But Olivar knew, it wouldn't take long for word to get around.

"We, and I speak for my shipmates, will need to assess our damage in human lives as well as our ship functions. I'm not sure how many we may have lost in that last encounter."

Pilot Olivar invited Captain Jona to meet with him privately, so they might talk friend to friend.  As they are dining, Jona tells Olivar about ReUnion and asked him to meet again so they might be able to set up a deal with some of the trade items. Olivar asked him how the name of the planet came to be ReUnion.
 
Jona replied, "This planet was named ReUnion by the initial settlers with their hope of reuniting some of the far-flung colonies of humankind.  After centuries of no contact, most of the population has forgotten that reason. Reunion has become a focal point at the crossroads of several trade routes. The colony has grown into several large cities on the one large continent. Trade is the lifeblood of this planet. That's why we are here."

WC = 754

To be continued at a later date. . .

****

Do you like reunions of any kind? Have you attended a reunion for your school or work location, or a large family reunion in the last year?

Please leave a comment to let me know you came by and I'll respond. Thanks for taking time to read my entry, a partial beginning for a short story.

***

WEP - Write, Edit, Publish - a fiction challenge: REUNIONS

It's August, time for another WEP challenge - with the support team of Nilanjana Bose and Olga Godim adding their imaginings and creativity. Thanks to Denise and Yolanda for being the hosts!

Create an artistic entry: a poem, a flash fiction piece of 1000 words or less, a non-fiction piece detailing your personal experience or someone else's experience, write a script, draw your dreams, or post a photograph or a photo essay. The genre and the artistic choice are yours!

***

Asteroidian Dreams of Utopia - WEP Holidays 2016

Utopia? I wouldn't call it that. It's Someplace Else I dream about, A real planet. . .

Image 1, see credits 

Noises drifted into the corridor from one of the lab units. Loud voices. Aperture doors cycled open and closed with only a slight click.  Then, silence. A woman stepped into the corridor, paused for a moment as the door cycled close. She turned and headed for the marked surface exit. Two seconds later, a head popped out of the door which just cycled open again and a young man said, "Citizen Leta, excuse me Citizen Leta Buk!"

Leta tried to relax her shoulders and hands. Tension did that to her. Made her want to bite something hard. 

Keep walking. Ignore. Keep walking. Focus. That man can't tell me what I can do. My job is to study the surface, and I'm prepared this time in case the lurker I saw before is dangerous, human or something unknown. As prepared as a human can be. 

After a few minutes, the head belonging to the young man in an officer's uniform disappeared and the door cycled shut again. His name tag identified him as Citizen Dako Jon, Special Assignment Officer.

***

Image 2, see credits

Leta put on the custom surface suit she had bought for exploring the outer layer of the asteroid. One of the tailors in the colony made these for special request at a likewise special price. It was puncture resistant, had a longer airtime for its oxygen breathing tanks which were made with a lightweight composite, and included a built in deflector vest. No one asked the tailor how he managed to acquire the materials; they didn't want to know.

After cycling the airlock compartment closed, she left the re-purposed starship which served as the main administration centre. It was built into the highest level of the colony, stripped from the mother ship. Once she was out, where  no one could live without life support, away from the claustrophobic areas and recycled air, she felt more calm.  She checked the spot where the heat signature had appeared on her last outing. It was innocuous. There was nothing to indicate anything had been there.

She pulled out her constellation map copies to compare those to the multitudes of stars above and around her.  She wanted to map the constellations she could observe from this colony, and soon was absorbed in her study. With a special tool designed for her spacesuit -a little extra installed by the maker of the suit-she started to plot her own star chart. The flexible fingers and small manipulations she could do made the cost of the suit reasonable.

It's an investment. And it hides a very capable weapon capable of stunning or killing. I hope I can find out what was shadowing me last time.

Image 3, see Credits

The feeling of being watched suddenly came back and she turned quickly. There! She saw a flash of what looked to be a humanoid figure dart in the shadows in a different location than before. She activated the suit's weapon array and the transmitter inside her helmet. 

"Attention, intruder. This is Citizen Leta Buk. Show yourself. Identify your name and your purpose. My weapon is armed and ready."

"I acknowledge, Citizen Buk. I mean no harm. I have been shadowing you to see why you come up here, and I wanted to learn who you were. Not many ever come to the outside, not unless they have to. My name is Killian Max, I'm a historian."

He's no assassin. . .or I'd be dead. She disarmed her weapons. "Accepted. I don't remember seeing you before, did you transfer in from another part of the colony?"

"Yes, I'm from Level 8, transferred in a few weeks ago, but I'm a nobody really," he said. "But one day, that could change. I invent things, I create something new out of a bit of this and that. Like this suit I'm wearing."

"Your surface suit? You made it yourself? I couldn't get a heat signature from your suit the first time you stalked me."

"I don't know why I'm telling you that I make things, but it's my secret. I could get into more trouble if word gets out. And, I wasn't stalking. I was observing."

"It's illegal to create new technology? That doesn't make sense. But don't worry, I  can keep a secret."

"The council members fear that it was technology that derailed a lot of old civilizations, fear that it will subvert the human goals. Fear of the new. It's a way of controlling growth and it allows the council to monitor what it calls rogue citizens. . ."

"You don't seem like a crazy inventor. . ."

"I consider myself like those greats from Antiquity - Tesla, Edison, and others. I honour their memory from the age when inventions were heralded, not hidden. I like to dream about other places, planets rather than chunks of rock. Places where inventions are welcome. I want to see things. I don't want to stay here all my life."

"So, you're a dreamer like me."

"If that means dreaming of other places and better times, yes. In the meantime, I work on my inventions, test them covertly, and study our ancestors. Could I ask you something about your work?"

"Sure. I'm a mapper for the surface of this colony. I have begun to map the constellations in our system for my own interest."

"Is that what you doing with those sheets of film I saw you drawing on?"

"Yes. Mapping. This suit has been adapted for my work. It's what I do. Making star charts is like mapping the universe, or at least a part of it."

"I'll remember that if I run across any ancient maps in my work. There is so much of our history that has been suppressed here in the colony. For instance, have you ever heard of Christmas? It's an ancient Terran holiday that seems to have been lost from our collective memory."

"I've never heard anything about it. Why was it a holiday?"

"It celebrated peace, and was entangled with several religious traditions that seem like legends to us. People would sing, give gifts and try to help those less fortunate. There was a feast using some type of avian species which was unique to Terra."

"Interesting. So many things died or were lost when Old Sol, the Terran sun went nova. Will we ever find the remnants of the human race, scattered as it is? That would be a good reason to bring back some of the old ways. I'm ready."

"I've been ready for some time. I'm glad we have met. It gives me hope that there's more out there. . ."

"Yes, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Killian."

"That sounds like something I read somewhere before. Well met, Leta."

And so, another link in the chain is formed. A chain which will eventually pull these two scientists in training away from their birthplace and toward other colonies and planets. As the circle turns and twists, what was old becomes new again.

***

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND BEST WISHES FOR 2017!

***

WEP, aka Write, Edit, and Publish

Thanks to Yolanda and Denise, co-hosts of Write, Edit, Publish for once again stirring our minds to create! We all have dreams, the fleeting kind that can end up being nightmares or the ones about what we would like to achieve, but for the Utopian Dreams Challenge, we want to know about that secret desire, the something you spend time daydreaming about, talking about and maybe even secretly planning for. It can be anything that will make your life seem perfect, or utopian. However, reality is rarely ideal. Let's talk about as we end the year 2016, and look forward to perhaps getting a little closer to that dream.

The challenge: Create an interpretation of your own choosing: a poem, a flash fiction piece, a non-fiction piece detailing an experience, or write a script, draw your dream, or find photographs to show us the essence of the dream and enhance the story. It's up to you. Have fun and don't forget to visit all the participants on the list who are sharing their ideas.

***
Can you imagine how it might be to live underground on an asteroid? Do you think traditions can fade away as centuries pass? 

Thanks for visiting, and please leave a comment to let me know you were here. I'll respond. I also want to thank everyone who has been a regular visitor here or just occasionally drops by. I will try to get back into my own posting routine after the holidays.

***

References:

NOTE: this story continues as Part 2 of Asteroid Stories

Previous WEP story: If I Wish Upon a Constellation, Part I

http://dghudson-rainwriting.blogspot.ca/2016/10/if-i-wish-upon-constellation-wep.html


https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.ca/ Write Edit Publish

***

Images:
http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/the_universe

1st Image via Hubble
Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration

2nd Image via Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/en/space-asteroids-planets-cosmos-1422642/

3rd image via Hubble
Credit: NASA, ESA, CXC and the University of Potsdam, JPL-Caltech, and STScI

***

A Garden of Darkness - WEP GARDENS Challenge

Darkness hides in the bright colours. . .tread lightly. This is my Garden.

Taken at Monet's Garden in Giverny, Fr., by DG Hudson

All around me, the scents of wisteria, and honeysuckle weave into my dreams. The smells of summer nights settle heavily in my mind.  It's my favourite time, the resting time of flowers when the stamens release their pollen, as the air cools. My flowers fill the air with the smells of perfume, of rare tea and fragrant herbal sachets.

Rose Portrait, by DG Hudson, Rainforest Writing

It's the dark hues, the sultry warmth, and earthy smells that lure me back again and again. The Temptress grows here, a deep, blood-red old-fashioned rose that smelled of the fields of flowers in France. Just watch for the sharp, sickle-shaped thorns. Next to it is Chicago Peace, with its petals painted warm orange with ivory and pink shading. Clematis, the charmer vine, climbs the old arbour in the corner, showy with its large purple blooms.

Wikipedia Creative Commons - by Michael Palmer*

Come into my little sheltered garden and if you look closely, you will see roses with thick large thorns, and thorny brambles forming a natural barrier on the edges of my hideaway. Many para-gardeners, or hedge witches don't know about thorn horticulture, or understand the properties of the thorn itself. I do. I know the uses of the Black tulips, their petals closed in the evening air, and the blue flower of periwinkle nestled against the dark green leaves, but the best, the Grand Black Rose, I do not yet know. It was a gift and I have yet to study it.

Clomp, clomp, clomp! A small stop. Then, the sound started up again. The noise came from heavy footsteps on the flat stones of the garden path, a meandering line paving the way to my secluded spot. Someone was coming, as if on a matter of importance. . .who would dare interrupt my retreat?

Then, I saw the creature coming towards me,  He looked like the hunchback who terrorized Paris, a fictitious man. Yet, here he was. And here I was, alone.


"Begging your pardon, m'lady," he said, "but I have been told to bring you out of this doomed garden."

"Doomed? Why do you say that?"

"I'm forbidden to speak for the master, but I bring a message: Himself would like to see you. . ."

"Oh, would he? And where would Himself be that I should come to him?"

"He is waiting below in a carriage." A Carriage? What is Himself thinking?

"I will do this thing you request, but I must grab a shawl."

"This one?" The hunched over creature held up my red shawl, the colour of fresh blood.

Damn him. How did he do that? "That one will do."

She twirled the shawl over her shoulders as she rose from the bench. Himself had better have a good reason for this. I'm vulnerable outside of this place of sanctity.

They walked down the stairs toward a dark black chaufferred carriage. A curtain pulled aside. . .

"Herself is lovely this night. I have a errand for you, my dark one."

"What if I don't agree?"

"Oh, but you will. You are under my protection, and under my spell. Herself has no choice."

"Perhaps."

"Agree and you will be released from the dark garden. You will have the light."

In answer, she turned, slipping the knife made from a giant thorn that absorbs moonlight into her hand and stabbing Himself right in his eye, then using it to slit his throat.

"I happen to like the dark garden. Himself does not know me well. . ."

The little hunchback had disappeared in smoke as Himself melted into a puddle. They had not known about the giant thorn's magic.  She quickly stepped down from the carriage as it too disappeared and made her way back down the stone path to her refuge, humming to herself.

***
Please leave a comment to let me know you were here and tell me how you feel about gardens or gardening. Do you like to grow flowers or veggies or both? Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read a short fantasy. . .!

***

WEP - A GARDENS short fiction post

The Gardens prompt is all about creativity. What picture comes to mind when you hear the word 'garden'? It may depend on whether you like to garden or just like to observe the artistry and style of other gardens. Denise and Yolanda, or literary hosts for WEP would like you to tell how the prompt inspires you. . .enthrall us, please.

FLASH FICTION, POETRY, NON-FICTION, PLAYSCRIPTS, ARTWORK OR PHOTOGRAPHY.  It's your choice of medium, and genre, but the word count should be about 1000 maximum. Check out more details at the WEP site, and there you will find the entrants participating in this challenge! Be sure to enjoy the variety of garden delights by visiting the links and commenting. 

***

Dark Purple Clematis Image
by Michael Palmer:
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

***

Spectacular Settings - WEP: A Slice of Montmartre, Paris

A quote about Paris, from David McCullough, in The Greater Journey.

". . .Paris was a place where one wanted to walk, where to walk - Flâneur* . . .as the French said - was practically a way of life." ('Ah, to wander over Paris!' wrote Honore de Balzac, 'what an adorable and delectable existence is that.  Flânerie is a form of science, it is the gastronomy of the eye.")

I concur.

***

A Slice of Montmartre Life

Paris - A Montmartre Street Still Life, by DG Hudson

A man in the left foreground of the image above, stands behind his wife who is framing a photograph.

"Oh honey, just take the photo. . .quick before the tour group leaves us behind."

"But I just noticed that street performer on the other side of the street. . .where did he come from?"

"Who knows? Be sure to get Sacre Coeur's dome in the shot, that's what we want - the church looming over the hill, reminding the people of its past. . .as the Mount of Martyrs."

"Of course, the camera is set for wide angle. I have included the church, the performer, the tourists, even the mother and child."

“Great, let’s catch up with our tour group. The performer is headed that way."

***

 The young mother watches the performer with his tell-tale long legs and wonders at his purpose.  Her son in the stroller sees him too.

"Maman! Maman! Look!" the child points to the street performer in stilts.

"I see him, ma cherie, do you know what he is?"

"Street play man? I want to see, ple-e-a-s-s-e, Maman!"

"We will see if he stops, little one, he may be headed for that tour group up the hill. . ."

***

The performer focuses on retaining his balance and stride as he climbs up the hill towards the tour group. His black and white ensemble is de rigeur for his occupation.

These new stilts are slowing me down a bit. . .but no matter, that must be the tour group ahead. What a disjointed collection of travellers. . .but I will charm them. I would much rather entertain that child and its mother, the little ones always love me, but the tour group will pay better. I have to eat too. 

I know what will appeal to this older audience, I will present the French tour guide view as he tries to interpret the Franglais and other mashed languages that most of the visitors speak.  I will be diplomatic as they say, of course! Ah, Paris!

***

*Flâneur - an aimless idler, dawdler, a dandy with time to stroll; one who observes life and offers his opinion on what he has observed.

***
From DG:

As I walked the steep hills of Montmartre, I saw the little things that bring a place to life and imprint upon the memory: the blue door to the residence where two brothers Van Gogh lived, an inner city vineyard, Lapin Agile - a café which swapped meals for art, the wall-passer - an author's story brought to life by a sculpture in a small square, and the view from  Sacré Coeur. I saw the areas which had declined with time, but they faded behind the historical aura of Impressionist artists painting turn of the century dances in courtyards tucked in the shadow of the windmills. I could almost smell the fresh bread made from the milled flour.

WC = 501

Feedback = MPA


***

August WEP Prompt: Spectacular Settings

A setting can infuse our imagination. The visual prompts the sensory and the memory follows along. What is spectacular will vary with each writer. 

WEP = Write, Edit, Publish - this worthy challenge is back!

WEP has been revised to allow more time between prompts and more opportunity to read the work by the writers who join in the challenge, WEP offers the writer an opportunity to test their short writing skills. The word limit is 1000 or less.

The hosting job is now shared between two writer/bloggers, Denise and Yolanda, who have tweaked this challenge to make it more interesting. Read more about the changes, the prompt and how to participate at the WEP blog site. Also check out their blog sites to find out a bit more about our two hosts.

Join us! Hope you enjoy reading all the entries via the web site and giving feedback where indicated. 

**********

Have you heard of WEP? Are you interested in joining? Do you like reading short fiction?

Please leave a comment just to say you were here, so I know you dropped by!  Constructive feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy the reading!

Thanks for reading my entry, and don't forget to visit the other writers on the list at WEP - Write, Edit, Publish! 

*******

WEP - Changing Faces - What Now?

I wake up, look in the bathroom mirror, and a different face looks back at me.

Write, Edit, Publish at Denise Covey's site

Parts 1 and 2 are summarized, Part 3 is New


Take Me Away - Part 1, Beginnings

As I gaze at the Seine River from the Pont D'Iena, I don't regret what I have done. My past life is gone forever. My family, my work, all gone. I wish the river would take me away too, but I have a few things to do first.

In this, my new beginning, I burned the letters which would incriminate others. They were worth a fortune. But there is one more, an important one. The Paris letter is hidden in the lower levels of the Louvre, in one of the statues in Antiquity. 

I know which one. . .

(for full original post click on title)

***


Part 2 - Louvre Antiquities Letter: The April Fool

I looked at the charcoal grey envelope in my hand held close, as if I might lose it. This was my freedom letter, my payoff. The last thread of my old life. . . before they kidnapped my sister. The envelope had been exactly where I was told to find it, in a cleverly concealed narrow crevice in the back of the Sekhmet statue. Perhaps the Egyptians had passed missives that way too.

As I sit waiting in the private train compartment at the Gare St. Lazare, my thoughts are interrupted by the rumble of the engines, the ringing of the bells and blowing of the whistles, interwoven with the slightly oily smell and the hissing of the air brakes. I  close my eyes to shut out the noise and drift into a short nap, finding myself back in that dimly lit hallway of an older apartment building. . .

. . .I'm walking down the corridor. . .I hear small noises like talking, I'm almost there, get ready, release the safety, secure grip, push door, throw in a smoke device. It lands between them on the bed. This man killed my sister. They turn as one, I aim and fire, intent only on accuracy. Snick! Smoke is filling the room. No witnesses. Aim. Snick! Keep moving fast. . .  Focus. Remove silencer, empty chambers, get out of the building. Into the car and on the road.

I live in Paris now, maybe a long time, maybe not. Yesterday, I went to the old cafe in the Marais. I sat at a different table the first time after the surgery and they treated me as if I were a new customer. On the second visit to the Cafe Louis Phillippe, I sat at my old table, but none of the waiters working now had been here five years ago.

(full original post click on title above)

Paris - Cafe Louis Phillippe, by DG Hudson

***

Part 3 - Changing Faces: What Now?

I've been transformed, given a new lease on life, but the inside me is still the same. The voice is slightly smoky now, an effect achieved by fraying the vocal cords minutely. . .all part of the Changing Faces deluxe identity package.

Changing faces gives me freedom, protects my identity and may even give me cover. I've cut all the ties to my previous life, so I've closed any way of them tracing me. No forwarding addresses are sent out and I've moved a few times.

I can't communicate with anyone, relative or not. I need to blend into the centuries old buildings that survive in Paris. They said disappear. I plan to, including disappearing from them too. Never trust those who want you to disappear.

It will take a long time for the fear to recede. I will stare at those who look similar to the ones responsible. One day, I may get my revenge on all of them. Or not. I don't know how I'll feel about it once I feel settled.  But will I ever feel safe?

Paris - the Eiffel Tower, Seine River, Bridges and Lampposts by DG Hudson

My name is now Lise, although that isn't my birth name. I'm sitting at a table for two at the Resto Med, a cozy family owned café at 77 rue St Louis, Île Saint Louis, one of the islands in the Seine.

I saw an old and dear friend come in and my heart jumped, but he walked right past, even though he looked directly at me. He saw my face, and my eyes, which are colored by opaque contacts. There was no sign of recognition. He looked no different, just a slight graying at the temples, and now he wears a neatly trimmed mustache.  He was a lover at one time. After he was gone, my mood changed.  I was not 'me' anymore. That fact had just been slammed home.

In the mirror, I see a face with no flaws, a mannequin face. No one warned me about the psychological implications of morphing into a different shell. C'est la vie! It is done. I will try to wear this skin as if I was born with it. A sip of wine and a perfectly seasoned curried chicken on rice will help me to soothe my woes.

My new life begins today. From now on, I live for me.


***
WEP

Would you like to challenge yourself? Try Write...Edit...Publish! aka WEP

Join us for a monthly signup and some very interesting reading. It's flexible. I joined the once-a-month bloghop since I wanted to write a few short stories or write in installments like the old-time serials. I've also met fellow writer-bloggers with the same penchant for responding to Denise's challenges. WEP can help you practice short writing and the prompts will invigorate your creative thinking.

Write…Edit…Publish! welcomes you to submit any of the following – flash fiction, poetry, non-fiction or playscripts to a word count of 1,000 words – artwork and photographs accompanied by your written inspiration in creating your work/s.

Next Challenge: October - Ghost Story
Denise Covey - WEP in detail, the signup and list of remaining prompts


***
Would you like to get a new face? One that makes you look totally different, not just plumped and tightened? Mirrors don't lie, do they?

Please leave a comment to let me know you were here, and I'll respond. Thanks for dropping by and taking the time to read my entry.
***

References:

http://www.yelp.com/biz/cafe-med-paris-2 Images on Yelp of the Resto Med. ( I didn't get a photo when we were there)

***

WEP - A Picture Worth 1000 words: Infinity and Nuit Blanche

The WEP July Challenge
An image or a picture can trigger memories, beliefs and imagination. Here are my offerings.


INFINITY

Fort Jefferson
A prison
Soldiers and Civilians
The Dry Tortugas

The Archways of Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas, Fla., by DG Hudson

In our lives, there are many doors, some open to joy or insight, some to sadness, pain or loss. Life takes no notice of who you are or what your plans may be. Infinity shown as openings or archways can also represent hope that perhaps the next opening will lead to better times.  The road continues whether we fall by the wayside or not. Sometimes there is a choice at the fork in the road and at other times, we are at the behest of Fate.


***

Nuit Blanche

Paris, France
It's a City Party
Exploring culture in the streets
The traffic is a parade.
So many bright lights=White Night

Nuit Blanche on the Rue de Rivoli, Paris, by Green Eye, prop. DG Hudson

Nuit Blanche (White Night) is an arts festival or city party which provides 'after hours'  free access to various forms of culture. Film, visual art and performing arts are staged at outside venues and certain galleries and locations. The Nuit Blanche is celebrated in the first week of October in Paris.

This image was captured from the fourth floor of a residential apartment building on the Rue de Rivoli.

***

Previous post A to Z Blog Challenge 2012: N = Nuit Blanche, Paris
http://dghudson-rainwriting.blogspot.ca/2012/04/n-nuit-blanche-paris-to-z-blog.html

***

Have you ever heard the term Nuit Blanche? Have you heard of the Dry Tortugas or Garden Key? Do you find it easy to be inspired by an image?

Please leave a comment to let me know you dropped by and I'll respond.
I apologize for the brevity of my entry to this month's challenge, fiction was not an option.

***

Write, Edit, Publish!

Would you like to challenge yourself? Try Write...Edit...Publish! aka WEP
Join us for a monthly signup and some very interesting reading. It's flexible. I joined the once-a-month bloghop since it meets my needs. WEP can help you practice short writing. It's a good way to start story ideas.

Write…Edit…Publish! welcomes you to submit any of the following – flash fiction, poetry, non-fiction or playscripts to a word count of 1,000 words – artwork and photographs accompanied by your written inspiration in creating your work/s.

***
Don't forget to visit the other posts on the July signup.

Next Challenge: August - Taking Chances
 Owner/Originator: Denise Covey at her website.
 
***

References

Photographs by DG Hudson and Green Eye.

Wiki on Fort Jefferson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Jefferson,_Florida

Link to info Wiki on Nuit Blanche
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuit_Blanche

Denise Covey's WEP information
http://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.ca/

***