giraffe

Marius. I meant that I could see the story moved into a larger format. Guy or Gal wakes up, opens the cabinet and chooses between "Guilt be Gone, Jealousy be Gone, Hatred be Gone". Whatever. It just has more potential as a short story or novella. I really like it so far.

marius

Tee hee, giraffe and marius are on the same page! Heading back to the drawing board because yes, kept wondering what was in the other bottles. There were about 20 of them and they were in the neatest looking little wooden box! ; )

Doug

marius: Ditto the others on the "bottle" story. And I can imagine a lot of possibilities for a sequel or a whole damn series with that one. Excellent! I too loved the ending....hmmmm.

giraffe

Doug, Where are the Punishers? If you'll elaborate on it, I promise to maybe never write from the transsexual perspective. Maybe.

giraffe

305? w/o title. A little story to lighten up.

THE EMERALD SUNRISE

By some enigmatic joke of fate, she ended up here today. Darla had lost all hope and finally came to me for some advice. "GrandPops," she said, "we barely know each other."

After 18 years of bitter silence between us, I hoped that the whole thing was water under the bridge at last. She adjusted her broad, veiled hat as I fidgited with items on my desk. "Darla, I've forgiven you for the lies you told about me. You were but a child."

"Let's not go back to that." She snapped. "The trial was excruciating enough. That's not why I came to see you." I could see her eyes welling up behind the shade of her veil.

I needed to soothe her erratic feelings. "What is it you want of me? I'll help if I can."

"I need money, Grandpa." she cried.

I knew we'd have this confrontation eventually. "Don't try to blackmail me, Missy. I was proven innocent in court!"

"What you did to me, you nasty old fart, I can't deal with it anymore. You know and I know. Give me a million." She wasn't very happy.

"Why so much? What do you need?"

"I need a sex change, old man!"

After a moments' thought I asked "Darla, are you a man trapped inside a woman's body?"

"NO" She screamed, "Im a woman trapped inside a child's abused body. I only hope that by becoming a man, I'll be whole again. You did this to me! You owe it to me!"

"Child, remove your veil." That's when I saw her whispy moustache and sideburns. "So you've already begun. It should only be half a million to finish up."

"I want a million or else!"

"Dear, the Emerald Sunrise will give you ability to handle this. Don't forget I once was a young woman too."

Doug

giraffe: Sounds like you're blackmailing me into writing "PUNISHER" style stories for this thread by writing those damndable transexual stories. Your stories ok, but I unfortunately working in the "cosmos" of the world I see every type of person imaginable including "THAT"! I'm not sure when the deadline is, but I'll try to get a "thriller" in here somehow. We are ardently looking for a large kiosk (house) to live in and get out of renting so I am so busy right now. Off to sleep I go....

midnightpoet

301 w/o title

"Fountain of Youth"

When I was young and reckless, I fast-forwarded through my life, saving time-in-a-bottle to use when I wanted the days to last longer, and put off my imminent death. I bottled the hours of my childhood and never lived a whole day, rushing into adulthood with saved time sitting on a shelf.

It's winter now, and my days grow cold. I listen to others relive the days of their childhood, and realize I had none because I was rushing through them, carelessly taking time away from my youth so I could prolong those wonderful grown-up days that we all look forward to.

The idea of childhood play is an enigma to me – something I avoided while bottling my days and sprinting ahead to when I could really live. Now, adulthood isn't what I expected, and I can't find motivation to pop the corks off my saved bottles and stretch out these days.

I guess I hoped all my life for that one day, that one perfect sunrise on the beach, where I could sit by the salty water, letting it wash over my feet and soothe me as I uncorked my bottles one-by-one and made the sunrise stretch for hours...days...weeks...all the time I stole from my childhood would be worth it to stretch out my perfect day.

I lay in this small bed, listening to the machines beep and wish for the ability to recapture the time I wasted. The doctor comes in, and I tell him of my saved time in emerald-colored bottles. I tell him to give it to his children and let them stretch out those days I missed. I told him to enjoy the time he had with them.

The machines stopped beeping then, and I went on to a place where time had no meaning.

giraffe

First things first, Doug. Good luck - it's a buyer's market. My daughter got trapped in one of those balloon mortgages, but I'm sure they'll get by.

Midnight. You really got the essence of time in a bottle. Kudos.

mouse

The Emerald Sunrise

Time--or Time-in-a-bottle--missing from story ( or at least I can't see it.
I read this several times, sad story of the times we live in and no doubt true for someone. Well written.

mouse

Midnightpoet Fountain of Youth
Regrets, we all have some I am afraid. Youth is too eager to grow up and the aged want to go back to youth. Good, story line and very well written Enjoyed it.

mouse

Doug,
deadline March 21

Dragon

Here's mine, 301 not including title.

Discretion

Giselle’s hands shook as she poured herself a soda water. There was a time when she could open any door with just a smile but now she’d seen too many years and spent too much time in a bottle of one sort or another for that. The only bottles she concerned herself with now were filled lotions with names like ‘Enigma’ meant to revive that lost youth. All of her expensive cosmetics, however, could not bring back the sunrise of her youth. The shade of sunset just kept creeping in beyond her ability to stop it. Giselle knew she would soon need potions to soothe her aching hands. Already there were days when she couldn’t get her rings over her swollen, popping knuckles. She refused to leave the house those days, it just wouldn’t do to be seen without her emeralds and diamonds. She’d sacrificed those younger days for the wealth her gems represented, marrying a rich older man in the hope of finding the stability her mother’s life had lacked. She could remember him fondly now, though she’d felt caged those many years ago. He’d ignored her indiscretions. After all, she’d made him feel young and useful again and she’d never brought those virile, young indiscretions home with her. So after more years than she’d counted on (the old goat held on beyond anyone’s expectations) she found herself a wealthy widow. Now she could openly indulge in a handsome, young Adonis with all those tanned abs and thick, lustrous hair. The type she’d spent so many an afternoon with in a seedy motel with a bottle or two of something to kill her conscience. She could ignore his indiscretions. After all, he made her feel young and useful again, and he never brought his buxom, young indiscretions home with him.

giraffe

Right, Mouse. I didn't mean to leave that out, but I was thinking of "time in a bottle" throughout. If I make TIME-IN-A-BOTTLE the title, I'm up to 306 words or so, so I'll just scratch this one for now. It would be something like:
Those times are in a bottle now. There's no going back. Ever.

giraffe

Woo, Dragon. Is this your seemy side or your honest side? Giselle's like an aging actress who the time has turned on. The lotions, the creams. I had to laugh.

marius

giraffe ... funny. Made me recall sitting at a bus stop, age 19, eyeing a strange woman wondering what was strange about her. Then realized ... sporting a man's mustache in a dress and hells, with bright red lipstick IS too odd to process. LOL.

Doug - good luck on kiosk hunting!

midnight - Well written and I liked it but having spent so many years teaching kids, was hard to imagine a kid like that. LOL, they always seem to think they'll live forever!

Dragon, great story and surprised me at the end. Tee hee, marius did not think "seemy" though ... just human. : )

marius

oops ... man at bus stop was wearing HEELS, not hells ... although that outfit and lipstick with a dark-brown mustache was rather hellish. ; )

giraffe

M, People are strange and I have fun elaborating on that. I guess I like Salvador Dali people more than Norman Rockwell people. ALTHOUGH Norman Rockwell types are more scarce these days than the Dalis. Whew!

Dragon

giraffe, you gotta watch out for those Norman Rockwell people, they're the real freaks. Those of us who embrace our weirdness and don't try to conform are way healthier! hehehe

Dragon

For my story, I don't know if it was honest or seemy or a little of both. I was sitting there trying to think of how to use Time-in-a-bottle and the Eagles came on the radio with 'You can't hide your lying eyes', which is of course a song about a young woman married to a wealthy older man and carrying on a relationship on the side. They had this line about being able to open doors with just her smile, well that had me off and running. I'm always kind of amazed (and maybe amused) at how often I'll be inspired by a song.

mouse

Giraffe --don't scratch it- -time-in- a-bottle is counted as 1 word.