Just one post this year!
I did not know that…I had put up only one post (so far) this year.
How did that happen? Well, I’m glad you asked.
First off, internet woes – here’s looking at you Spectranet *wink*
Then, been busy busy busy – edited one anthology.
It’s been sent off to a couple of publishers, now we wait with fingers crossed, on bended knees.
Then edited one book for a client.
Now in the middle of editing another anthology.
Details coming very soon (soon and very soon), just waiting for certain people to send in their stories. I won’t be calling names or pointing fingers, but they know who they are.
Also been busy with non-work stuff – like being The Goo’s Social Director and Stylist and Escort.
Participating in a Married vs. Single Ladies Cooking Competition (a cook-off?) at Church,
and just being generally busy, and tired and living life…like it’s golden.
Anyway, here’s a little something something from me to you. Enjoy!
The recently developed off-planet colony of Nirvana was up and running. Marketed by the Relocate Earth Department of the United Nations as the home of the future for all who loved beauty and creation, it had drawn the brightest and the best of Earth’s Recreative Movement. Of course, the brightest and the best needed their support system, so Nirvana was also home to maids, drivers, cooks, teachers, and spiritual directors.
Oh and Tech Support. You can’t have an off planet colony running like clockwork without Tech Support. Enter T.
“Call me T”, she was known to say. She loved Nirvana. She had always been idealistic, believing that Utopia was out there somewhere, so when she heard that the United Nations and a few Mega Corporations had been secretly developing an off planet colony just outside Earth’s solar system, she was ecstatic.
“Nothing to get excited about babe”, her friend Z, had told her, “I mean daddy says it will take forever before it’s finished, and even then it will be an uber-exclusive set of people who will be relocated”.
“I’ll find a way”, T had replied, and she had. Her friendship with Z had been instrumental. You see Z’s daddy was a cosmetic surgeon. He straddled the line between recreative and support system. He was definitely getting on The Nirvana List.
“Big Daddy”, T said to him, over the phone, “how are you going to get me on that list?”
“Why are you calling? Aren’t you coming over?”
“Nah. Z asked me to go clubbing with her, and she’ll get suspicious if I blow her off”.
“Come home with her then. You can come to my room when she’s asleep”.
“Yes sir”, she said, grinning, and hung up.
That night, he promised to think about it, but T knew he was lying, so she when she snuck back into her friend’s room in the wee hours of the morning she put Plan B into play.
“Z, you know you and your dad are getting on the list”.
“Probably, but The United Nations isn’t as squeaky clean as it used to be. That list is going to be up for grabs to the highest bidder”.
T sighed, “I wish I had money like you guys. I would so pay for a place on that list”.
“Aaaw. Don’t worry. You know you’re my girl. I’ll talk to daddy. We’ll find a way”.
Two days later, Z called. “T baby, guess what?”
“Your name’s getting on the list”, Z screamed.
T screamed too, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much. You are the best friend ever”.
“You know it. You’ll be on the list as my Backup Buddy”.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a new department. It’s a not a lot of work, and you get paid Mega Bucks”.
Mega Bucks? T was sold, in more ways than she realised.
When they got to Nirvana, Z and her daddy moved to The Estate. T moved to a nameless shanty town. A few days later, Z drove her hovercraft too close to a gas flare. She survived, but lost an arm.
Enter the Backup Buddy.
Two years in, and Z’s reckless living had cost T two arms and both legs. Cutting edge technology ensured the perfection of Nirvana a la Z remained unmarred. T was support system. Perfection was not a requirement.
But at least she was in Nirvana.
THE END…so far
Tomorrow (hopefully) – Pictures and Stuff. Have a great day!