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Today’s writing prompt:

You discover while writing a story one day that everything you write seems to be coming true.

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I sat and stared at the screen. The cursor flashed at me. My mind raced. I took a deep breath. I started to type. At first I just wrote about the fact that I was sitting in front of the computer trying to think of something to write. Then I unlimbered my imagination and wrote that there was a knock on the door. It would be a beautiful woman, a stranger with long black hair and sky blue eyes. As I typed the sentence, I heard a knock on the front door.

I got up and answered the door. There was a beautiful woman with long black hair and blue eyes. That was surprising enough. Then she said, “Are you Timothy Roth?”

“Yes, how did you know that?” I asked. She smiled and my heart melted.

“I was given your address. I wasn’t sure I had the right door.”

“Of course. Come in. What can I do for you?” I was a little bit amused with myself that I had assumed some psychic phenomena when the actual explanation was so mundane.

“Thank you,” she said and came in. I closed the door behind her and gestured that she should go into the living room. “I’m here to ask a favor of you. We have a mutual acquaintance. Elizabeth Morgan. Oh, my name is Lilly Montgomery.” She smiled again. I smiled back.

“Liz is a very old friend of mine. If she referred you to me, that carries a lot of weight. What is the favor?”

“I want you to write a story about me. A story of discovery and wonder. A story of a quest. I leave the details entirely up to you. You can do whatever you want with the story when it’s finished. I only want a copy for myself, no other rights to it than to read it. I’ll pay you whatever you think is fair for your time.” She was looking down at the coffee table as she talked but as she finished, she looked up and looked me right in the eyes.

“I think we can work something out. Can I get you something to drink? Some tea perhaps?”

“No, you’re very kind, but I have to go home and pack. I am leaving for a trip for two weeks early tomorrow morning. Do you think you might be able to have my story when I get back?” She smiled that beautiful smile again.

“Yes, I think I can. I’ll write you the story and then you can pay me whatever you think it’s worth.” After all, if it was as good as I expected it might be, I could sell it and more than make up for the time required to write it.

“You are too kind,” she said and got up to leave.

I shook her slender, delicate hand and said, “Have a good trip Ms. Montgomery.”

“Oh, you must call me Lilly. If you’re going to write my story we must surely be on a first name basis.” She smiled.

“Okay, Lilly. How do I get in touch with you?”

“I’m afraid I will be out of contact while I’m traveling. Here is the number of my assistant. She can help you if you have any questions or need anything. I’ll call you when I get back.”

I escorted her to the door and watched as she got in the black limousine parked at the curb. She had a uniformed driver and everything. This was definitely interesting.

I went back to my office and sat down at my computer. I recorded the events that had just transpired and then I projected myself into Lilly’s future. I imagined her getting up the next day and taking a limo to the airport. She flew first class to Prague.

I imagined that she was an art dealer and was investigating the discovery of a missing painting by a renaissance master. Her associate explained that he could show her the painting but only at his clients residence. The story flowed from my finger tips effortlessly. I made sure that she made good use of her beguiling smile.

She met the associate at an eighteenth century estate in an exclusive neighborhood in Prague and the painting was everything that he had promised. She made an offer for it on the spot. The owner said that he would have to consider the offer for a day or two. She agreed.

She decided to see the sites of Prague while she waited for her answer. She spent the next two days visiting museums and sampling the best of Prague’s cuisine. She was even able to get tickets to the opera. Finally she got a phone call from the associate. The offer had been accepted. She was to meet with the client at the offices of her associate to draw up a contract and make arrangements for the sale.

I had been working on the story for a week. I  had spared no detail in my descriptions of Lilly’s adventures thus far. I decided to call my friend, Liz and find out what she could tell me about Lilly. I wanted to see if maybe I could tailor the rest of the story to her personality a little bit.

The phone rang quite a long time. I was about to hang up when she answered. “This is Liz.”

“Hello, Liz. It’s Tim. I got a visit last week from a Lilly Montgomery. She said you referred her to me. I  have to thank you for that.”

“Oh, Lilly. She’s the daughter of Jack Montgomery. He’s an editor at my publisher. She’s an art student, I think. She wanted to meet you. She said she was going on a trip. To Europe somewhere. What did she want?”

“She asked me to write a story for her. She said she would pay me and I could keep the rights to publish the story. As beautiful as she is, I would have written her a story for free. I told her I’d write her story and she could pay me whatever she thought it was worth.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You must be pretty smitten.”

“I guess so. It just happened so strangely. I had just written about a dark haired, blue eyed woman knocking on the door and then there was a knock on the door. It enchanted me, I suppose.”

“Ah, always a sucker for a mystery, I see. Well good luck with the story.”

“I’ve already written a good bit of it. I was just wanting to try to tailor it to her personality. Can you tell me anything about her? You said she was going to Europe. Do you know where or why?”

“I think she said she was going to Prague, or maybe Berlin. I don’t really know her that well. She used to come in to the office with Jack in the summer and sit drawing in the corner. Sorry but that’s all I’ve got.”

“Thanks. Tell Joe hi for me. I’ll take you both to dinner and tell you how this worked out.”

“That sounds good, Tim. Bye.” We hung up and I went back to writing. I decided to add a little bit of adventure to the story. I wrote about her meeting a handsome young man at the associates office. The young man was named Henry. He asked her out to lunch. They discovered they were both painters that made their living dealing art. He asked her how long she was going to be in Prague. She told him she would be there for another week.

The week went by in a whirlwind. He took her to see all the sites. They spent one afternoon drawing the animals at the zoo. He showed her the Astronomical Clock on the old town city hall. They visited so many museums and churches and historical buildings she could barely remember them all.

Then, on the night before she was to fly home, Henry took her out to the finest restaurant in town. Then they walked back through the mild early summer night to her hotel. He asked her if she would be coming back to Prague any time soon. She said she didn’t know. It all depended on whether she had another client that needed her services in Prague. He said he hoped they would see each other again. He asked her to keep in touch.

The next morning she flew back to New York. She was exhausted when she arrived. She went straight home and to bed. She slept for eighteen hours. When she woke up it was noon. She got up and took a shower and got dressed. She was about to head out to her office when there was a knock on the door.

It was Henry. He had wangled an appointment to the New York office of his firm. It was for six months initially but there was a chance they would extend it. She was ecstatic. She told him that she had to go to work and then she had a meeting that evening. She would be able to see him afterwards for a late supper around eight.

I looked down at what I had written. My phone rang. It was Lilly. “Have you finished my story?” she asked.

“Almost. I will be done by this evening.” I replied.

“Can I come by to get it around six?” she asked.

“That will be fine. Can I offer you dinner?”

“No, I have a dinner engagement at eight. I met this man named Henry on my trip. We’re having dinner.”

I was excited and I was sad. Had I written this story or had it written me? Was there any correlation or just coincidence? Who can say. The world is a mysterious place. Perhaps Lilly would tell me how much more of her story had come to pass.

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Tomorrow’s writing prompt:

You discover that you can fly. No one else can fly, only you. What do you do? How do people treat you?

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Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the ones you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.

 

Today’s writing prompt:

When you get up one morning you discover that everyone is speaking some strange language you don’t understand. No one can understand what you are saying either.

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The first hour of my day was fine. I got up, had a shower, got dressed, made a cup of coffee, and headed out to work. The first inkling that I  had that anything was wrong was when I turned on the radio in the car. The voices were speaking some language I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t any of the common languages that everyone knows a smattering of. It was like nothing I had ever heard.

I called my boss to tell him that I would be a few minutes late. He was speaking the same strange language. I hung up on him. I didn’t know what to say. I turned around and went back home. There was no point in sounding like a babbling idiot at work. Unless I could figure out what was going on, I was going to have a hard time making a living.

I tried calling my brother. He was babbling the same nonsense that everyone else was speaking. I tuned around the radio dial. Everyone was speaking it. I was beginning to question my own sanity.

When I got home, I was greeted at the door by Dolby, my dog. He was wagging his tail and dancing on his hind legs. When I told him he was a good dog, he started whining and backing away from me. I went after him and he hid under the bed.

As I sat there on the bed, I saw this flash of silver on my pillow. I investigated and found a pair of small silver banana shaped objects, about the size of the head of a cotton swab and half an inch long. They had the texture of soft candy. For some odd reason I felt compelled to put them in my ears.

When I did, I heard voices in the living room. They were speaking English. I went to see what was going on. I had left the TV on and it was the local news. I could understand every word they were saying. I reached up and felt of my ears. I couldn’t find any trace of  the silver objects. I found a mirror and looked in my ears. There was nothing there but flesh.

I decided to give the day another try. As I was about to leave for work for the second time, I saw a reflection in the mirror. It was a reflection of the classical gray alien standing outside the kitchen window. I went into the kitchen to check but there was nothing outside the window. I went outside to look but there was nothing there.

I closed my eyes for a minute and went back to sleep. When I opened them again, the world was just as it always had been. I was on my way to work. It was going to be another day just like any other. Or was it?

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Tomorrow’s writing prompt:

You discover while writing a story one day that everything you write seems to be coming true.

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Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the ones you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.

Today’s writing prompt:

You start a new job in the morning. It is your dream job. Your friend calls you and asks for a ride to the other side of town to visit his girlfriend in the hospital. You take him but when it’s time to come home your car has been stolen.

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I was really excited. I had prepared for years and tomorrow my dream was coming true. I was starting my new job as a computer game developer. I ate dinner and washed the dishes. I checked my email. I decided to go to bed early so I headed for my bedroom. That was when the phone rang.

“Hello, Tim?” It was my friend Jimmy. “Did I get you up?” He sounded a little bit sheepish.

“No, I was just heading for bed though.” I said, hoping he’d take the hint.

“I’m sorry but I have a big favor to ask of you.” This didn’t sound good.

“Okay, ask.” I said, trying not to sound to annoyed.

“Sheila is in the hospital in Pottsville. I wonder if I could get you to give me a ride over there and back.” Pottsville was forty five minutes away on the other side of Reid mountain. Reid mountain wasn’t a very high mountain but it was as high as any around here. That would mean forty five minutes on the road over their and forty five minutes back plus any time that Jimmy spent visiting. But Jimmy was a good friend. He’d always been there when I needed help. I just couldn’t bring myself to say no.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Meet me outside your place.”

“Thank you so much, Tim. I really appreciate it.”

I could tell he was worried. He didn’t talk the whole ride to Pottsville. We pulled up in the parking lot of the small rural hospital. “I’ll get a cup of coffee in the coffee shop. Come and get me when you’re ready to go home.” I said. Jimmy disappeared into the elevator and I went into the coffee shop and bought a cup of coffee. I sat at a table and opened the book that I had brought with me to read.

I would have gone up to visit Sheila but there was an awkward distance between us. I had dated her best friend, Emily, for three years and it had ended badly. It was a misunderstanding really but Sheila took Emily’s side and we had both agreed to leave it at that. Jimmy had told me that she was just in the hospital for a minor procedure but she had asked him to visit. I knew she wouldn’t want to see me.

Time passed quickly. It was a good book. The next thing I knew Jimmy was coming in the coffee shop, ready to go. “How was she?” I asked.

“Happy to see me. She was worried about the procedure. I reassured her. She said to tell you thanks for bringing me.” he said.

“I’m glad to help,” I said. “Are you ready to go?”

“I reckon so,” Jimmy said.

We went out to the parking lot. It was almost empty. Pottsville was a tiny little town. I didn’t see my car anywhere. “We parked right here in the first row, didn’t we?” I asked.

“Right here.” Jimmy said, pointing to the space where I remembered parking.

“You don’t think they towed my car, do you?” I asked, worried.

“I don’t see why. Let’s ask them inside.” We walked back in to the hospital. The nurse at the desk looked up from a book as we approached.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“My car is gone from the parking lot. Do you have any idea what might have happened to it?” I explained.

“No. What does it look like?” she asked.

“It’s a black, 2008 Toyota Corolla,” I said.

“I haven’t seen it. You might try the police station. It is two blocks north on the other side of the street.” We thanked her and walked down to the police station. This isn’t how I wanted to spend the evening before I started a new job.

The officer behind  the front desk looked up as we entered the station. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yes. I parked in the parking lot at the hospital about an hour ago in my black, 2008 Toyota Corolla. When I came out just now, it was gone. Could you help me find it?” I asked. The officer had been writing down the particulars.

“When did you park it?” he asked.

“It must have been around nine,” I replied. “We came out just now, about ten fifteen and it wasn’t where I left it.”

“I see. Do you know your tag number?”

“Let’s see. It has Alabama tag 42G58A4.”

“Yes. I see it right here.” The officer pointed at his computer screen. “The sheriff over in Winslow County reported it as being used in a robbery of a little gas station over in Barlow. Let’s give him a call.” He turned around and rolled his chair over to a table with a radio and a microphone sitting on it. He picked up the microphone and said, “Bubba, this is Ralph over at Pottsville dispatch. You got a second?”

The radio was quiet for a minute and then a deep booming voice said, “I got my hands full with paper work, Ralph. What can I do for you?”

“There’s a guy over here,” he said as he looked at me.

“Tim Albert,” I prompted him.

“Tim Albert that is reporting his black Toyota stolen. He gave me the tag number you reported in that robbery a few minutes ago.”

“Tell him he can pick it up at my office in the morning.” Bubba said.

“I think he needs it to get home,” Ralph said.

“It will be after midnight before I can get all the paperwork filled out. If he wants to wait around until then, I can release it to him then. It isn’t in the best of shape to drive though.” Bubba said. I cringed.

“What does he mean?” I asked.

“Is the vehicle operational?” Ralph asked Bubba.

“How far is he going to drive it?” Bubba asked.

“To Stapledon,” I said.

“Will it make it to Stapledon?” Ralph relayed.

“Probably not. He’ll probably need a wrecker.” I was crushed. This was my first car that I had bought new. I had taken such good care of it. How was I going to explain this to my new boss?

“Tell him don’t go to any trouble tonight. I’ll pick it up with a wrecker tomorrow.” I said. Ralph passed on the message. Bubba was appreciative. “What’s the best way to get to Stapledon this time of night?” I asked Ralph.

“I don’t really know. There’s nothing this side of Stapledon, not this time of night. You might get a ride with Joe, my brother in law. He works third shift at the recycling plant in Stapledon. Shall I call him and see?” Ralph asked.

“Yes, thanks.” I said.

We got a ride with Joe. We left Pottsville around ten till eleven and he dropped us off at my house around eleven forty five. Jimmy said thanks again and he was sorry my car got stolen. I told him it wasn’t his fault. I didn’t totally feel that way but there was no sense making him feel bad. If I hadn’t taken him to see Sheila, my car wouldn’t have been trashed by some crazed outlaw. On the other hand, we never know what’s going to happen in life. A meteor may fall out of the sky and hit you on the head and kill you.

Jimmy walked the six blocks to his house. I went to bed around one. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

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Tomorrow’s writing prompt:

When you get up one morning you discover that everyone is speaking some strange language you don’t understand. No one can understand what you are saying either.

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Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the ones you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.

Today’s writing prompt:

After getting a strange phone call offering help with stabilizing reality you start to notice that things keep changing inexplicably. For example, your phone number is not what you remember it being.

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I was dreaming that I was swimming. Somewhere there was a bell ringing. I finally woke up enough to realize that my phone was ringing. I answered it.

A man’s voice said, “Good. We finally synchronized eigenstates with you. We need your help stablizing reality. The field could collapse at any moment.” There was a click on the line. I looked at the phone. It said call dropped.

I was awake. It was 4:45am and there was no way I was going to get back to sleep before my alarm rang at five. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my phone. I didn’t remember changing the desktop photo on it. Who was the kid in the picture. He looked familiar but the name just wasn’t coming to me. He looked a little bit like my little brother.

The cat came in from the other room and jumped up on the bed beside me. “Well, Sylvester, I guess it’s time to get up.” He meowed his agreement and head butted me. I gave him his morning fix of kitty bits in gravy and headed to the bathroom for my morning shower.

After the shower, I got dressed and was fooling with my phone before putting it in my pocket. I noticed that it listed my phone number as something different from what it had always been. I scratched my head for a minute and decided to call my provider.

“This is Melody, how may I help you today, Mr. Howard?” the agent asked.

“It seems that you changed my phone number without telling me?” I said.

“My records show that your phone number has always been (123) 555-4567 since you’ve had service with us. That’s been eight years, right?”

“I’ve been with you for about eight years but that’s not my phone number. It has always been (123) 555-1902,” I replied.

“We show that number being listed to a James Fletcher. Did you perhaps confuse your number with a friends?”

“No, I don’t know a James Fletcher. Perhaps I’m just confused. Thank you.” I was getting a little freaked out.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Howard?”

“Just one more thing. What is today’s date?” I don’t know why I asked. Imagine my surprise at the answer.

“Of course. It’s September 31, 2018. Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you.” I hung up stunned. When had September gotten an extra day. I checked the calendar on the refrigerator just to make sure I had understood correctly. I grabbed my bag and headed out to work.

I got there half an hour early thanks to my early morning caller. I waved at Mary, the receptionist as I walked past. She waved and said, “Just a minute, Steve. Who are you here to see?”

“I work here, last I checked,” I responded.

She looked at me kind of funny and said, “You haven’t worked her in over a year, Steve. You left here to start a freelance business.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Old habits die hard. Well… I guess I’ll be going then.” I turned and walked back out. On the way home, I noticed that the stop lights were blue instead of green. I got home and went to my office. I had been thinking about starting my own business. When had I taken the plunge? I remembered going to work yesterday. Why would I set an alarm for five if I worked for myself?

My phone rang. I jumped. Then I answered it. “Stephen?” The voice sounded tentative.

“Yes? Who is this?” I asked a little more emphatically than I meant to.

“It’s Carl. Your partner. We invented the Eigenshifter together.”

“The what? You mean like business partner?” I was trying to make some kind of sense of what he was saying.

“Yes, your business partner. The Eigenshifter. You know. The machine that changes which universe you are in. Only it isn’t working properly. We’re jumping randomly between universes and I can’t get it to stabilize. You’ve got to help me.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure. The address on the door of the office here says 2200 Maple Street SW Suite 4b. Get here as quick as you can. The instrumentation is indicating a major shift in the next hour.”

“Stay calm. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up. I didn’t remember anything about him or inventing an Eigenshifter but in light of the strange things that had been happening this morning I didn’t have any better ideas so I programmed the address in my map application and headed over to the office.

When I got there the door was standing open. I went inside and closed the door behind me. “Carl?” I called. There was no answer. There was no one in the outer office so I went through a door to my right. It opened into a hallway. There was an archway about half way down the hall that opened into a lab area.

I called again, “Carl?” Still no answer. There was a machine on the lab bench. It was an electronic circuit built on one of those prototyping boards. There was an instrument with several meters and a display screen sitting on the shelf above the unit connected to it by several wires of various colors.

On the bench beside the circuit was a schematic. I was puzzling over it when a voice behind me said, “At last! I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Carl?” I asked.

“No, it’s Charles, your partner, remember. You designed the Timeslip and I helped build it.” He looked truly puzzled.

“Things must be worse than you thought. When you called me you said your name was Carl and the machine was called the Eigenshifter.” He looked at me with shock.

“You’re right. We’ve got to do something to stabilize reality before one or both of us disappears. Have at it.” He pointed at the prototype.

“I hate to tell you this but I haven’t a clue what this is or how to stabilize it.” He cringed. I looked back at the schematics. It had been a long time since I took electronics in high school but I didn’t want to disappear.

I was about to move one of the probe wires when a familiar voice said, “Don’t touch that!” I looked up and it felt like I was looking in the mirror.  “I think I can fix it and things will all go back to the way they were.”

“How do you mean?” I asked. “The way they were for you or me or Carl or Charles or whatever his name is? What reality will we go back to?”

“The one where this all started. You will still be part of me and Charles will be Charlie instead of Charles or Carl. It’s better than this random drifting through alternative universes.”

“Okay.” I said. “Do it.” He came over to the bench and took a few measurements. He turned a few nobs and then…

I was dreaming that I was swimming. Somewhere there was a bell ringing. I finally woke up enough to realize that my phone was ringing. I answered it.

A man’s voice said, “Hello, Sharon?”

“No, I think you’ve got the wrong number.” I hung up and went back to sleep.

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Tomorrow’s writing prompt:

You start a new job in the morning. It is your dream job. Your friend calls you and asks for a ride to the other side of town to visit his girlfriend in the hospital. You take him but when it’s time to come home your car has been stolen.

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Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the ones you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.

I am a big fan of Penn & Teller. I like their magic. I like their documentaries. And, as I have discovered recently, I like Penn’s writing. I have been reading his latest book, Presto! How I Made Over 100 Pounds Disappear and Other Magical Tales. It is an entertaining story of how with the help of Ray Cronise, a character in his own right, he sheds over 100 pounds by going against common weight loss wisdom.

I have come to a lot of the same conclusions as CrayRay, as Penn so colorfully calls him, about how the human body works. I may try his radical diet at some point but first I’m going to read the rest of Penn’s book and then see if I can get my hands on Ray’s book. I looked on Amazon and Google and was unable to find anything.

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I used a phrase the other day, “seeing the elephant.” It was a phrase that my mother used on occasion. She explained it to me as meaning realizing your mortality. I looked it up on Wikipedia and discovered that it had a much broader and varied meaning.

It has been in use for over a hundred years and the connotation associated with it has varied from excited at the prospect of a new adventure. To disappointment associated with an experience that one had expected to be exciting.

A speculation that was advanced in the Wikipedia article suggested that it might have derived from a story of a farmer that, while driving his wagon to town to see the circus, ran into the circus parade. His horses were spooked by the elephants and overturned his wagon full of produce. The farmer said “I don’t give a hang! I have seen the elephant.”

It is as good an explanation as any. It certainly broadens my understanding of the phrase. I intend to keep it close at hand in case it is appropriate in something I am writing.

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Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the people you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.