Closed Curtains

We’d like to refer you to a book: Tales of a Modern Writer. But supposedly he died of a heart attack. Would you still read it?

Anyway, his editor told him to write on a post-apocalypse world without putting much fuss on killer diseases (or viruses), just considering a unique angle on how it comes to be. The task was not laid-back, for what he had been given was already in movies, and all were commodores. So what would make his book a best seller(?), he had no clue, no idea, not a fathom of understanding, no aha moment, no inspiration…those descriptions are important since they all mean devoid, lack of, bereft…and on and on. So, we paid the guy a visit and he woke up (aha!).

Among the many tales he sketched, there was one he did perfectly, since we had him by the core…He wrote, we helped him write…Let’s just say, we used him…meh.

‘The world has faced so great a transition, none witnessed like…’ that was his opening sentence but we’d like to jump over to another hook, precisely, Chapter 3.

“The boy stood on ground where lava had flown and ceased to flow. He scratched the earth with his fingers. Today he was going to get dirty. With soft tips he dag under a pine tree where beneath was buried a box, he recalled. If only a spade was close enough he could have saved some time, but which time was there to save, or to look into. There had passed twelve moons and a sun’s breadth. He knelt in a suit of grey spandex….”

We told the guy to check whether a man could wear a spandex suit leave alone a boy, but he insisted on ingenuity. We rushed to the manager at the Swallow Sports House who delivered a tailor-made suit for him. Yes, we said we’d pay then remembered that our guy was famous so it tickled down to a marketing move, (remember, The Winning Strategy (2019) J.I. Frendwitchesten & Mellissa Chester).

After soaring high and above, on a glider, he reasoned it was still perfect for the line, so we will jump to the middle of the chapter. He had his chance to edit.

‘A look at the box before him made him realize the greatness of the rubric cube. It had so fascinated people that companies had incorporated the technology into safes; thefts reportedly declined, even a Golden Star going to the first to ever break into one. The idea was, once a pattern was set it was recognized via AI and only the owner could open the safe with active touch and fingerprints sensor also having the eyes captured at every turn. So impressive they needed nothing less.

He sat against the bark, his hands resting on the ground, rough and dirty just like he wanted. As he took a conscious breath, cool winds oozed flavors of herbs and fresh leaves from the forest into his windpipe. There was nothing like having the world to himself. No factories making toys that made kids fight. “Mmmh.” He was calm with a muscle of clarity weighing on his spirit, he was renewed, rejuvenated by every gasp of air. The only challenge would be opening the Rubi Box which never perturbed him at all. Once he found a lab, it would be all ash. He even wondered why no one ever broke into the little treasure cases. He was a boy with a softmind, called the I-mind, that evolved by introducing a Miescher code into the DNA.”

Ah… we had to combat and kick ass for Chapter 3 to have its full-stop. This mutt just had nothing to do…every time, “Tomorrow…tomorrow dawn will illuminate!” He said that till we hit his head with a Rubik cube. Yah! It literally fell from the first floor to his head during one of his ‘tomorrow walks’ and guess what? You’re right, as always. We hit his head seven times till all he saw was rubrics. Hehe.

Quick note: if you ever want to read the book check it out on Amazon, then you’ll know whether the boy was part of a special science lab experiment or he just happened to be the son of two great biochemists, OR…

Chapter 7.

“Air crafts were jumbled in a car-park, their movements rapidly connived by magnets. There had been a good lead mine in the far west with sheets of silicon, titanium and beryllium lying against the distinct red-brown glow of bronze which had not seized to amaze the world, Gordon had the chance of eating from one. He had prepared chow from bamboo shoots with a lamb roasted on a Bunsen flame. There was no way he was going to collect wood and light dried branches, there was still gas enough for eons.

Getting a polished plate, he scooped soup into it dipping in the red meat. It was a meal for one person for one dinner for one moment. His eyes lay on the clouds as he crushed the thighs in considerable pleasure. This place called home. After, he would drive to Xin chin and check the solar houses that had been constructed in a bid to take advantage of the heating rays to cool residents. A chubby guy with a clean chin had hailed it as the best green innovation, according to the architecture. He made a mental note to check the ad again when he got there; his notes came with notification bells.”

He got us pretty good, yet he was running from our suggestions.

Chapter 11.

“Climbing down the simulator he lay prostrate on a glass floor. Chess had deprived him of childhood. Nonetheless, his mind had enthralled every accredited athlete for beating the Ineos 1:59 challenge, 1 minute 59 seconds of consistent checkmate against a Kasperov’s Chessbot, even kids in his school kept far away from him since they couldn’t understand nor applaud him, thought he’d figure out every move they’d make.

With a breath of victory, he stood slumping towards a clean swimming pool, and for a grain of time, he wished someone could smile at him. It would feel better. Actually, he could have admitted to its curative dose.

The magic of water was greatly astonishing to him, for though he understood chess he still could not figure out how swimming was therapeutic. He slid his feet into the pool as his memory registered the temperature with a final sink to its sparkly molecules.

Silently, he held his breath counting to thirty, the limit set on mind.

In an instance his eyes shut, I’ve never seen gazelles and kangaroos…not seen the magnified wilder beasts’ migration. I must trace some of it.

He opened his eyes, went afloat and gasped for air.

Again he sank and counted. He would hold his breath for seven minutes first. Resting on the bottom, he eased his eyelids. Flashes of memory spun rapidly, from the chapter he was born to his fifth birthday. All presents had been mechanical except for one, by his teacher, a note inscribed the words Live! attached to a deflated ball….”

“Rendered paralytic, he basked as his body reformed and regained its feel. He reflected on a palatial maze of the building in front of him. By a command it would sink into the ground and form a parch of field, wild gypso shooting with carnations. But then he heard a sound.”

Maybe we need to register Chapter 5. That is what they call a juggle, but we named it Pal epic maneuver after a kid without a missing incisor once asked us what Humpty Dumpty was doing in the desert with Puss in Boots.

“Soft moss parted her feet as she traipsed across the backyard, once an isolation hostel. A hammock was swaying. Its zebra stripes made her stare at the illusion till she could focus on the swings past them.

Maybe I should have gotten my license when the state said I finally grew up! But of course, mother ran the state… she figured slowly raising her feet over a couple of logs. But who cares if I knock every car away from the road. Who’ll give me a ticket for driving over…Ha-ha…No police, no jail, no school. My perfect world. Then looking down, she frowned as she muttered, No boyfriend.”

Since you’ve now gotten the idea, we can go to sleep.

But you still need to look for the book. (Let it be clearly revealed that we DO NOT work for ANY NGO. Neither do we support ANY AD that keeps popping on your screen. WE ARE NOT PhilAnthropists.)

Me 1: All clear buddies. I think we should let them sleep peacefully.

Me 2: Maybe let’s just collect the last thoughts…

Me 5: And damp them in their brains, don’t you think we ought to scare them tomorrow

Me 3: Nah, we’ll give them the honeymoon phase.

Me 4: Let’s save the candies for good children!

Me 1,2,5 : Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

Me 3: I’m trying to help here guys.

With a final conference we came to an agreement: Free candies for all – Ho, Ho, Ho…we are a team though everyone calls themselves ‘me’.

Chapter 17

‘They had found a special place in a rocket for a home. Gordon, looking at Telsy’s curled hair, wondered why he was still not the only one in the demagogue…’

Let’s back it up a few chapters…Right here. Uuh!

Me 4: Flip those pages quick. We don’t have enough time to dilly dally

Me 3: Did you just say ‘Dilly dally’, which century do you live in?

Me 5: What do you have instead?

Me 3: M-mh! Go on, I’m…

Me 5: What, dilly dallying in a trash can!

Me 1: Okay. That’s enough guys. This is not our session, let’s let the listeners have it.

Me 2: Found it.

Me 1: Go on.

Me 2: Chapter 12:

Eyes had locked but every vein was stiff. Gordon stood with a gun at hand, he didn’t need it. ‘Where are you coming from?’

‘Are you going to shoot or not, jerk.’

‘Don’t play games with me.’

‘I’ve been watching you bask and swim and bask and swim. Don’t you have a life?’

The gun cocked.

‘I asked where you came from.’

‘Okay, okay. I can’t believe a child is threatening me, with a gun!’ Telsy slid down the tree raising her arms in the air.

With a simple step, he raised his arms and shot.

Telsy looked downward and fell with a thump on her knees. In macho style, Gordon muzzled her after tying her hands to her back. He checked the cable’s tension. Impressed with himself, he stepped back and tapped the gun to his head twice.

‘Fear.’ He cajoled.

As she murmured in frenzy he leaned back. Telsy watched his chest glow – it was so plain and soft. This must be Jay Adams in his boyhood.

Gordon scrutinized his captive’s face, ‘So you have been walking and riding a bike for the past fourteen hours.’

Telsy grunted leaning to her right.

‘Well, and you are left-handed too.”

He stepped forward, ‘There you go!’

‘Are you a brat? Don’t you respect women! How can you wrap a cable in my mouth?’

He smiled and walked away.

‘No. Wait…if I found you it means there are others lurking somewhere too. Just take me with you.’

He was going into the water again, resting the gun near the rails of the pool steps.

‘Did you just roll your eyes on me? Kumquat seed…Little dinosaur! Lizard! In fact, you are a lizard with kumquat eyes!’

He would count ten minutes before emerging to see the verbose dale.

He eased in a duck crouch and shut his eyes…”

So far you have an appetite to read to the end, but see, this is not a novel.

Me 5: By the way, the reason our guy died was not because he outwitted us.

Me 4: Yeah. His end was terrible! He made sales and resales out of it, yet he didn’t write a sequel for ten years, TEN BLOODY YEARS!

Me 5: He even left us wondering why we chose him. Mm, we knew he was good…

Me 2: Let’s admit it dagger. He outwitted us, made us envy him.

Me 4: Weren’t you the one who thought this out first, convinced us to choose him.

Me 2: No! Remember he caved in, gave us the house to rule. We didn’t choose him.

…..

Me 1: Folks, sleep tight but never, never cave in…

Oh you still don’t know who we are aye. Next time you create a story, fail to flow, fail to get the perfect-ten, refer to us. We don’t do BLUFF.

Me 3: One more thing people… if you didn’t find the sequence, just read beneath the lines.

Me 2, 4, 5: What’s this nerd saying? Ugh..!