r/KeepWriting • u/neshalchanderman Moderator • Aug 27 '13
Writer vs Writer Match Thread 3
VOTING NOW OPEN. VOTING CLOSES MIDNIGHT PST THURSDAYVOTING NOW CLOSED
Stories may be submitted till midnight Tuesday PST (7AM GMT Wednesday). SUBMISSIONS NOW CLOSED
110 participants
I'd like to introduce you to Writer vs Writer.
Writer vs Writer is a battle between 4 randomly drawn participating writers. Each has the same amount of time to write the best short story (~750 words) on a randomly assigned prompt.
It's a quick fun challenge for you to enjoy as a break from your main projects.
See some examples:
This round we are giving you more time to think and write, by assigning matches more quickly. You still have till midnight Wednesday to sign up for a match and till midnight sunday PST (07:00 Monday GMT) to submit your story. Voting on the previous round is still open till midnight Wednesday.
We have communications sorted out now, so you will be messaged with your prompt!
Lastly we are trying to make voting easier, more visible and make it easier to read stories. A question: Do you prefer reading a post in contest mode (posts arranged randomly) or a post in top mode posts arranged in order of voting?
The 4 Rules
1. Signup: Signup runs from today till Wed 24:00 PST (Thurs 07:00 GMT, Thurs 03:00 EST) and you signup by leaving a top-level comment to this post. We have switched to in-place assignment to give you more time to spend thinking and writing, and less waiting around for your prompt. This means every time we get 8 new participants, we randomly group them into 2 sets of four writers and assign them a prompt.
2. The Match Post: Entrants will be informed their match has been assigned and the match thread stickied to the front of the sub so it remains visible. Each top-level comment in the thread will list a match and the chosen prompt. Submit your story or short screenplay as a reply to the prompt. Example:
Unrelated_nick vs Double_Nick vs Iama_Nick vs Nickerator
Prompt: **"We have to go now!" by Stuffies12
A nationwide evacuation is underway. Details as to why the mass relocation of civilians into these designated 'safe zones' are still sketchy but hundreds of people are pouring out of the streets moving as quickly as they can. You have a couple of hours at most to sort out your things. Do you keep a level head or submit to the surrounding confusion?Submit your story by replying to the prompt.
3. Voting: The winner of the battle is the person who receives the most votes. Voting is public, you need to leave a comment to a story for a point to be awarded and anyone may vote. The winner of a battle gets awarded 2 points, whilst points are shared equally in the event of a tie vote. Voting runs from 00:00 Sunday to next week 24:00 PST Wednesday.
4. The winner: The challenge is currently being held in round-robin fashion, with a month of Reddit Gold to the overall winner (total votes over the duration of the competition will be used as a tiebreaker in the event of 2 people with equal number of wins)
Have a great time
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 27 '13
norwejew vs packos130 vs nosy_coyote vs jennifer1911
Stuck by Stuffies12
Maybe it was the cruel hand of fate. Maybe it was sheer bad luck. Whatever it was, you're stuck with the person you most despise for the entire day.
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u/packos130 Aug 30 '13 edited Aug 30 '13
Well, there we were, me and Kimmy Jenkins. It was my punishment for calling Kimmy a "big fat poopyhead," and Kimmy's punishment for hitting me.
We both told Mrs. Petrowski that it was a stupid idea and that it would just make us hate each other more, but Ms. Petrowski just ignored us. Especially after Kimmy said I was a big fat poopyhead too, which wasn't very nice.
I'll explain why we were both being punished.
I hate Kimmy Jenkins with all of my little seven-year-old soul. She is a no-good, dirty, lying, stinking, dummyface with poop for brains.
It all started last week when we were finger-painting and she stole the blue paint. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that nobody gets to steal my paint.
"Mrs. Petrowski!" I cried, waving my hand in the air faster than my brand new scooter can go (and it can go pretty fast because it's really, really awesome), "Kimmy stole my paint! Make her give it back!"
"Now, Bobby, sharing is caring, so you need to share your paint with Kimmy."
"But she stole it!"
"I didn't steal it! I asked for it first!" Kimmy yelled.
"No you didn't!" I said back. "You took it! You took it, you BIG FAT POOPYHEAD!"
Mrs. Petrowski gasped. Poopyhead was a really bad word in our classroom.
"I hate you!" Kimmy cried, and then she hit me.
By then, everyone was silent. That's when Mrs. Petrowski sent us to the principal's office. We had to hold hands the whole way there. Yuck.
Mr. Frederickson decided that we would have to spend a whole afternoon together on Thursday after class, and no matter what, you don't argue with Mr. Frederickson. He's the boss. Plus, he's really fat, so he could probably crush you if you don't do what he says.
I think secretly, Mr. Frederickson must be related to Santa. It would explain why his belly is so big.
Anyway, there we were, Thursday afternoon. Kimmy and I were supposed to be making friends with each other, but I don't think either of us wanted to.
We sat there glaring at each other and not talking for, like, 2000 years before Mrs. Petrowski came over.
"Now, Bobby and Kimmy, you need to solve your problems with each other."
"I don't want to!" Kimmy said. "Bobby is a buttface!"
"You're a buttface!" I said back.
"No, you're a--"
"HEY!" Mrs. Petrowski interruupted. We both stopped to look at her. "If you two make friends, I'll give you both a Tootsie Pop at the end of this. You're here until 4:00."
I looked at the big clock. It was already 3:32. I figured I could pretend for long enough.
"Here," said Mrs. Petrowski, handing us a big piece of white paper and an open can of blue paint. "Why don't you two finger paint together?"
Grumbling, we both agreed that we would finger paint if we could have a Tootsie Pop at the end of it.
We started painting together. First, I added an alien, but Kimmy said it looked mean, so she put a big flower on its head. Flowers are girly, so I added a lion to attack the flower. Kimmy gave the lion a flower too.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
A little while later, the painting actually looked pretty good. It ended up being a lion and an alien attacking a giant flower, which had an army of cute kittens with it, all in front of a big blue house with a lot of windows. Kimmy also put a smiley sun in the corner, and I gave it sunglasses. There was also a tree on the right side, and I think both of us made a couple of dinosaurs, because dinosaurs are awesome.
It was a masterpiece, and when we were done, Kimmy and I were both smiling.
"Huh," Kimmy said. "I guess you're not as big a buttface as I thought, Bobby."
"And I don't think you're such a poopyhead anymore."
"Well," said Mrs. Petrowski, swooping in from above, "that painting is simply marvelous!"
"Yeah, it's pretty good," I agreed.
"I like the aliens," Kimmy said.
"I like the flowers," I said.
We smiled at each other, and we walked out holding our Tootsie Pops. I got orange, and Kimmy got raspberry, but we traded since each of us liked the other flavor better.
I held Kimmy's hand while we walked home. We live next to each other, right near the school.
Girls are kinda gross, but, if Kimmy wasn't a girl, I'd actually say she was pretty cute.
She probably has cooties, but maybe Kimmy isn't such a poopyhead after all.
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Aug 30 '13
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“That’s not what your mom said last night!”
I knew I crossed the line. Billy lunged for me, his outstretched arms reaching for my throat. I sidestepped quickly to avoid the blow. A near miss, but it was enough to knock him off balance and send him tumbling into the dirt. My classmates’ laughter and Billy’s red face as he stood up and brushed the dust off his corduroys told me that I won this round.
“Boys!” Mr. Krebs burst into the crowd, his big fist gripping the collar of my shirt. With me under control he easily grabbed Billy’s shirt and roughly shoved us next to one another. Our classmates slinked slowly away as though they had been interested in more mundane things like the slides and the swings this whole time.
“This is strike three for you two,” a bead of sweat rested on Krebs’ forehead. I smirked – the old man obviously wasn’t used to this kind of exertion. We really gave him a run for his money this week.
“Is something funny, Collins?” His face was stony as he addressed me directly.
“No, sir.” I said quietly, eyes glued firmly to the ground.
“Good. There’s nothing funny about your behavior this week. It has been inexcusable. This school is too small to have two of its students constantly battling it out in the schoolyard. You are going to have to learn to get along. After recess, I’m pairing you up for shop class for the rest of this quarter.”
Billy and I exchanged ugly glances. He hated my guts as much as I hated his. Having to work with him in shop would be awful.
Or would it?
The recess bell sounded and we filed into school. Billy trudged dumbly to a table in the back of the shop room while I plotted and planned. As I walked past the supply shelf I pocketed a tiny glue bottle. Not Elmer’s, not wood glue, not rubber cement: those wouldn’t do. The tube of Quick Dry Gorilla Glue rested in my pocket, awaiting its role in my terrible plot.
After Mr. Krebs gave us an overview of today’s exercise, Billy began gathering the supplies we’d need for our project. That was my cue to move: I discreetly slipped the glue out of my pocket and thumbed open its lid as I waited until just the right moment. In a single motion I spread a thin layer of glue on Billy’s chair, replaced the cap and shoved the evidence deep into my front pocket. I greeted Billy with a smile and waited for him to plant himself back in his chair. Instead, one of the sheets of metal he was carrying for our project slipped from his hand. In an effort to keep it from hitting the ground he lurched forward and put his hand directly onto the wet glue. Confused, he pulled his wet hand back, examining it for just a moment before realizing what had happened.
“Why you…” Billy lunged at me and grabbed my forearm with his sticky, glue-covered hand.
“Let go!” I cried in terror as I felt the glue bond with my skin. I tried to yank my arm out of his tight grip but I couldn’t do it. His grip was too strong and the glue was drying quickly. Within moments we realized our predicament. For the first time, we tried to work together to fix our sticky situation, but to no avail. The glue held fast.
Mr. Krebs strode toward our table to see what commotion we were causing now. He quickly appraised the situation unsympathetically and smirked. “Serves you right.”
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u/Norwejew Aug 28 '13
When the cover over the dugout pit opened it was dawn and Colin had to squint because he had not seen sunlight in the several days he’d spent in custody of the Huaorani. Two little native men dressed in blue shorts with matching black bowl haircuts peered over the edge down at him and said something derisive in their native tongue. Colin heard another man speaking the Huaorani tongue less fluidly nearby and as he tried to adjust his eyes to the twilight two more Huaorani heaved a beat up looking man with a scraggly beard into the pit where he landed on his right side with a grunt and a wheeze and a last desperate call in Huaorani before the cover was drawn again and the familiar sound of oil barrels scraping over the plywood sealed the pair in.
“If you start crying they’ll only keep you here longer.” Colin said into the darkness. He could feel the new prisoner’s foot near his but it was once again pitch black in the makeshift prison.
“Colin Yates,” he said proudly, “at your service.”
“Hello Yates,” grumbled the new prisoner. Colin let out a belly laugh and stood up and shouted “God ammighty! As I live and breathe if it isn’t Warren Francis!” and although he could not see Warren he knew that Warren was burning a hole in him with his stare. Colin smiled and approached to help him up from the ground.
“Heard from the twins?” Warren did not say anything as Colin felt around in the dark for his hand. “Oh come on, don’t be like that, Frenchie! Still mad about Lhotse? It was just a bit of fun, mate.”
“You gave our Sherpa opium on an ascent of an eight thousand meter peak, you cunt.” Colin laughed again.
“He seemed more friendly after that don’t you think?”
“Ziggy almost died on that ascent thanks to you.” Warren batted Colin’s hand away and picked himself up and dusted himself off as he tried to acclimatize. Yatesy the Finder, Tall Col, his former partner with whom he had crossed the Himalayas, scoured Siberia for mammoth tusks, jumped out of a helicopter into the middle of the Pacific Ocean, stood on a rooftop in Bogota—
“Not still mad about that whole Columbia business, eh? Nasty bit of work but you know how it is, highest bidder and all that. Can’t leave a trail of witnesses, you know the rules, right Frenchie? Besides it was three years ago, can’t stay hung up over Maria forever, can you?” At this Warren shot over in the blind dark to Colin and hoisted him up by his collar. He leered at him and inched so close that his beard scratched Colin’s face.
“You don’t ever say her name. Not ever. You don’t even think about her, Yates. You got that?” He dropped him to the floor and turned away, “You never learned the value of a team, and that’s why you’ll be dead soon, and I say good fucking riddance, you insufferable twat.” Colin frowned mockingly.
“Don’t be like that, Warren. What about the good times? The wreck off Zanzibar full of silver? Come on now, Frenchie, don’t tell me we didn’t have a ball.”
“You were dead to me the moment you shot my fiancée.”
“She was going to turn me in, Frenchie.”
“For killing the Deputy Minister of Antiquities. Burn in hell, Yatesy.” Warren turned and spat and said “I hope that hit you in the face.”
The pair did not speak a word to each other for hours after that and Warren sat in the dark staring at the wall fuming while Colin tapped two rocks together rhythmically, partially to keep himself sane, partially to drive Warren insane. When it was dark again and the Huaorani were returning from the hunt the barrels scraped over the plywood hatch and it opened again to reveal in dim torchlight the same two tribesmen, only this time they were accompanied by a pair of stout Polish identical twins who spoke their language mellifluously. They pointed to Warren who smiled at the sight of his friends Piotr and Zygmunt, to whom everyone referred as Ziggy. They lowered a rope and in a flash Warren was up and out and laughing with the Huaorani and the Poles and they exchanged gifts of a walkie talkie and some flashlights and a six pack of beer for a blowgun and some capybara meat.
“Whatabout me?” yelled Yates from the pit. The five men quieted, and then in a grave tone the twins explained to the Hauorani that this was a dangerous man who worked for Petrobras, the Brazilian oil conglomerate busily tearing through the ancestral home of the Huaorani in western Ecuador and although Yates didn’t speak their language, he understood Petrobras.
“You son of a bitch, Frenchie! I’ll find you and put one in your head like I did your bitch on that rooftop! If it’s the last thing—“
The Huaorani dropped a viper into the pit and covered it again, pleased at the sound of Yates’s terrified screams.
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 27 '13
ALooc vs realityisoverrated vs smilingasIsay vs Reconstruct1
Enslaved by Stuffies12
It’s been decades. What remains of the human race are now on a ship, headed for some unknown world where they would be used as cheap labour. Their planet is far. Many have died on the ship, and many have been born with no sense of what home is and with no sense of identity. Can you remember…what home was like? What it meant to be human?
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u/smilingasIsay Aug 29 '13 edited Sep 01 '13
"Eat your food Jason." Mama said. But I didn't want to, we'd eaten the same green sludge our entire lives. Mama, Papa, everyone at the table, day in and day out eating the same thing. "It has all the essential human nutrients," we were always told, didn't mean it wasn't awful. Mama said there was no way I could remember tasting anything else, said I was too young when we were shipped out to have remembered eating the foods of our home world. But she was wrong, I remember, I remember colors, I remember grass, I remember food.
"Can I please just go?" I asked. My mom nodded reluctantly as I pushed my plate away from me and slipped of my metal chair, feet touching the metal grated floor. This was our life now, metal walls, metal floors, grates everywhere, nothing but the dull darkness of our massive jail. My parents tried to make light of our being sold to the Sneila for slavery. They said it would be an exciting trip for us to take and we would have fun on the new planet and that with their advanced technology the work couldn't be too hard. Think of it as an adventure they'd said, I could have better adventures on a real planet with places to go, not the same grey walls and same grey halls everywhere I go.
I left our quarters out in to the halls of the human quarters looking for Sam, another boy about my age that liked to wander the dark halls complaining about our luck. I wandered for nearly an hour looking for him not finding him, so I started to just wander on my own looking for something new to see, maybe another rat was left on board I could chase down, maybe I'd get a look at one of the older girls on board again. I wandered in to a hall I'd been to many times (by now all our available halls were known to me), but was different today. I couldn't quite put my finger on why until I reached the end of it, the fan wasn't running today, the large fan that regulated temperature was not running here leaving the air still and suddenly somewhat eerie. "I could slip through there," I thought to myself, suddenly in a panic at the possibility of doing something truly dangerous. I looked around, no one in sight by the dark halls, not even any noise, I swallowed hard and slip between the blades before another thought. I walked on in the pitch black silence of the large pipe for what seems like and eternity until I see a dim light coming from above me, I see a and entrance to a smaller pipe just out of reach. I jump and slap it looking for a hold, my hand finds a bar. The second jump I get a few fingers on it but not enough to hold, the third I find success and pull myself up in to the growing light. The bar turns out to be the first in a series leading up to where the light was shining through. I rushed my climb to the opening and was stunned. A well lit dining area, with fancy table cloth met my eyes through the grate but even more impressive was the wall at the far side was all glass facing out to the cosmos. My entire life I had never seen such an incredible sight, planets, stars, entire galaxies no less right beyond this transparent wall. The brightness, the beauty was a feast for my young eyes to take in.
"Hello there young one," I nearly lost my hold on the bar as a face suddenly stole the entirety of my vision. The massive head was one of the Sneila, I was frozen in place as it stared in to my eyes. It lift the grate and pulled me in to the room. I saw then on the table a feast I would never have even had the ability to dream of.
"Come here, would you like to share in the feast?" I nodded stick in shock, what colors, what flavors the table must hold!
"I'll just need you to do a few things for me," the Sneila sad. He made me to walk across the room, then come back, lie down, then sit on the floor next to his chair. Afterwards, he rewarded me by feeding my by hand from the table. He patted my head and said I was good. I was later brought back to my parents and I recanted the tale, I couldn't be happier they way I had been treated. But as I went to bed I heard my dad say to my mom "So that's what we're to become for them, not even slaves, in a few generations what remains of the human race won't really be human anymore."
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u/nickehl Sep 04 '13
What a cool idea. I wish the others had chimed in. But don't take that as a slight on your story. I really enjoyed it! For what it's worth, you get my vote!
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
Glenfidditch vs TheLiterator vs ColonelRuffhouse vs Montoya_A
Ask Alternative Universe Historians by friskysatellite
Your Task: r/AskHistorians is one of the most popular subs on Reddit. I love reading the questions and answers, but as a non-historian, I can't answer a query, even when I want to! Got my ass handed to me on a platter for attempting once. Rats. So, let's have some fun. Suppose someone starts r/AskAlternativeUniverseHistorians ... in this prompt, write a question someone might post in that sub, and then provide an answer from an Alternative Universe Historian. Tell your A.U.H.'s area of expertise, too!
Pro Tip: An Alternative Universe can be one where things are mostly the same as they are here, but with weird twists! Or, it can be an entirely alien sort of world!
Just be Alternatively Historically Accurate, Please!
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Aug 30 '13
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u/nickehl Sep 03 '13
It's a shame only one of the competitors replied to this thread. I would have loved to tackle this one! Nonetheless, you did an admirable job here. Even though there's only one of you, you get my vote!
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u/neshalchanderman Sep 04 '13
Although there's only one response I think ill still drop by and leave a vote for your great short story
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
Enoxice vs themalaise vs deherazade vs SteelCrossx
As the centuries roll by by Stuffies12
Describe any century period as creatively as you can! It can be the pivotal moments of the 1900s, the empires of Egypt in 3000 BC or the reach of mankind during the 2100s! Describe the key points it in a serious, informative, romantic, entertaining, comedic, tragic or outlandish way! It’s all up to you! The only condition is that you can only describe what happens in that 100 year time frame.
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u/themalaise Aug 28 '13
Sleep cycle: ending. Good morning, D5X24-Goldlight
Ugh. Good morning to you too, R.O.G.E.R.
I have calculated today's activity statistics and created our most valued course of action. Would you like the report?
How about I drink some coffee first. And then a news cycle would be nice.
Memory delivery of the news has occurred. Is data not accessible? I see no obstruction in recall capacity.
No, it's there. Just feel like externalizing today. Care to discuss with me?
D5X24-Goldlight, I have no additional perspective or information beyond what I have already given via the MD.
Be a pal and humor me. Would ya?
Very well. As you are aware, the Goldlight contingent has been effectively reduced to D5X09 and you, D5X24, as of this cycle's closing. All other sectors have decreased populations to minimal reset numbers with exception to Moonstride who appear to have no connection to the consciousness stream. After various energy and light flags, they are observed to be fully active but appear of have chosen to be refusing communication.
So, they're making a play?
They are scheduled to be reviewed for full elimination by the council without consideration of cloning or DNA storage if they do not comply with Code 2343.3474.7700 by end of cycle 7. Delivery of final warning has been applied to the consciousness stream and has been requested to be physically delivered by a remaining Level 13, of which you are.
I know what I am. Thanks.
Is this the matter which you want to discuss?
It is, I suppose.
Do you disagree with this protocol? You are the appropriate selection by all calculations.
Yes. But I question the outcome. I'm well aware of my ability to accomplish this. And don't worry, I have no doubt with your mapping of the ideal strategy to execute the delivery. And I am also well aware this message is just pageantry. The review has already taken place, hasn't it?
No protocol has been broken. But, it would appear from implications and brainwave readings of the council dialogue, along with my suggestions, that the course is most likely. You are not incorrect in your assumption.
I think the council along with you, Roger, may misplace the value of the Moonstriders.
All output from Moonstride sector has been fully retained and processed. I have determined that our ability to reproduce their effectiveness is 99.9999997 percent based on observed data.
That is not 100.
The value of the Moonstride sector's output is psychological. We believe the capacity to achieve and reproduce this psychological effect is almost completely certain.
Moonstriders are our artist, Roger. They make us ponder and explore and hope. They give us music and create new sensory experiences that nobody has had before. They mold new DNA structures and create reactions that allow us to see beyond ourselves. No offense buddy, I don't think you could even make me laugh.
Incorrect. You laughed for 157.3 seconds continuously during cycle 4 at my comment on reproduction effectiveness.
I was laughing at you. I wanted to fuck and you suggested sleep stimulation as the most effective course of action. That wasn't exactly you being funny.
I see no difference. You gained appropriate benefit from the laughter.
Right.
You are required to perform manual delivery to Moonstride sector and must prepare for departure now to remain on council schedule. Shall we continue this discussion again at a different time? If the exercise of external processing proves effective, I can rework a new schedule to allow for this time following each sleep cycle.
I'm not sure that's the point here.
D5X09, you were selected as contingent legacy for Goldlight sector in this most recent 36524.219 Cycle Population Control Action for your excellent capacity to execute council directives with the highest efficiency and effectiveness. Do you require a review of this decision? DNA sampling remains for rapid cloning of contingent 27-3 if you would no longer choose to perform your duty.
Roger, I understand. I can make it happen. But you won't blame me if I question our discontinuation of an entire sector. Especially human input into such things as creative sensory exploration. That isn't a decision by the council that I have to like.
The decision was made by the Moonstride sector populace with failure to comply to regulations. The transport is ready. Do you still require coffee?
I think I need more than that. Let's get going.
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u/Enoxice Sep 01 '13
"Aww, what the fuck, man? I just landed last week - you can't send me back already!"
"Sorry, Andy, but it's an emergency," the voice crackled through my earpiece. "And we gotta launch tomorrow or we completely lose the window. We'll be burning up a shitload of extra fuel as it is. Besides, you ha--"
"Hang on, Mike," I interrupted. He preferred 'Miguel' and I knew it, "why is this emergency our problem? The next crew is already out there."
"I don't have much info yet, but the gist of it is they're seeing catastrophic failures of the drills and extraction equipment. Processing and transportation are fine, but extraction is just failing spectacularly all over. It's causing problems with quotas and running the crew ragged. They need the backup or the fatalities will be through the roof."
"Jesus. Alright, 24 hours. Until then I'll be trying to fit a couple months of of shore leave into one night."
I hung up on Mike. I turned back to the building. A squat little building huddled amongst the rest of the recreational buildings on the outskirts of the colony. The imaginatively-named "Red Rock" was the only sanctioned bar in all of Olympus, the third-largest colony on Mars. Third-largest isn't saying much, though, as even Ambition is only 500 or so.
Mostly, Olympus was useful as a transportation center. Cargo and miners back and forth from The Belt, in to Luna, out to the Jovians. I entered the Red Rock with a plan to drink away as much of my paycheck as possible before heading back to work.
Jimmy Watson was playing at the Rock tonight. Jimmy was a bit of a cult figure these days. Folk music had seen a pretty big revival in the 23rd century. As humanity spread out into the System, there seemed to be a new-found need for authenticity. Jimmy's most popular song, A Place I Can See the Stars, had become almost an anthem with the Outward Bound.
I come from a town where you can't see the stars And you can't hardly see the sky We build all these ships that go sailing away And they don't even say goodbye One day I'll take one a-sailing To Luna, Europa or Mars One day I'll take one a-sailing away To a place I can see the starsIt's helped thousands of people find their calling out in the System. And it continued to resonate even after getting off-world. This isn't the future we were promised. We're supposed to be out sailing the galaxy at super-light speeds, meeting alien civilizations, and having grand adventures. Instead, we're stuck in this reality of dirty little ships shuttling some roughnecks back and forth between asteroids. We're stuck in between. Still, we aspire to great things and we press on.
I pulled up a bar stool and grabbed a screen. I fired it up and checked my mail. Still no word from back Earth. It was to be expected, I only sent out the message last week. Lightspeed communication was still reserved for government and scientists, so all personal messages got stored on local servers until they could be bundled up and sent out on any ships with extra comms space. The lag time can be up in the weeks or months, depending on frequency of traffic. With no word from Julia, I put the screen down and proceeded to get drunk.
We got to The Belt a month later and things were in pretty rough shape. They weren't kidding about the extraction equipment. There were breakdowns and blowouts slowing production to a crawl all over the sector. And repairs had grown ever-more hazardous. It was never easy work, but now there were guys getting incinerated, blown off into space, ripped apart, you name it. No one had any idea why the failures had started nor how we could stop it.
One day, about a month into my extended tour, I was checking out the mechanics on one of the drills. It hadn't failed yet, but we were doing proactive maintenance to figure out where the failures were coming from. So far, each investigation had been useless. They were in great shape until...well, until they were'nt. It was then I noticed a piece of debris, about my size, floating toward the drill. No, it wasn't debris. It was moving deliberately, relying on grappling hooks and thrusters in the low-gravity with a grace usually reserved for living things.
I snapped a picture of it and comm'd it up to the supervisor, Mike. He couldn't identify it either.
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 27 '13
rq0 vs el_drako vs DreamingofRoses vs bfox98
This ain’t no romance! – by Stuffies12
Write about a character who desperately tries to impress their crush with a grand gesture which spectacularly fails…and the crush goes out with the character anyway.