From Clive Barker’s Cabal:

Of all the rash and midnight promises made in the name of love, none, Boone knew, was more certain to be broken than “I’ll never leave you.”

What time didn’t steal from under your nose, circumstance did. It was useless to hope otherwise, useless to dream that the world somehow meant you good. Everything of value, everything you clung to for your sanity, would rot or be snatched in the long run, and the abyss would gape beneath you, as it gaped for Boone now, and suddenly, without so much as a breath of explanation, you were gone. Gone to hell or worse, professions of love and all.

And I never thought that I could bring myself to say it again. Not even to you. Not ever in this lifetime again.

You, who brought living back to my life; you, who for me over these last few years, lost sanity and soul; you, who sacrificed your family for us; you have healed me.

Without you I am rot, I am insane, I am an abyss agape with hopelessness.

The whispers of broken promises will forever scar my body but my body is just a vessel. My body is a vessel of soul — a placid lake full of love for you — unscarred and brimming over.

My soul is yours.

I’ll never leave you.

I’m not sure why I’ve never gotten around to mentioning Critters on my blog, but I think it’s time I do.

Andrew Burt and I don’t know each other personally, but we do have a long history together. Years ago, when the web was really young, Unix was in its hay day, blogs didn’t really exist, and I had a Commodore Amiga, I was a user on his free public internet system, Nyx. I used Nyx to host my “homepage” and telnet’d into it to play with Unix. Nyx, I believe, was one of the first freenet systems in existence at the time.

Nyx still remains free, but has changed owners. Aburt has moved on to other things. Among those things is Critters. Critters is best described in Aburt’s own words:

Critters is an on-line workshop/critique group for serious writers of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror. You get your work critiqued in exchange for critiquing the work of others, both of which are invaluable ways to improve your writing. It’s run by Dr. Andrew Burt, vice-president of SFWA and his army of software minions. Critters is free (except for the work of doing critiques!); if you find Critters useful, you may make a donation (appreciated but in no way required).

Critters requires some commitment on your part to keep up with critiques, but is most definitely an invaluable resource towards improving your writing. Critiquing other works requires analysis that is appropriate for your own work and, of course, having your work critiqued is a bonus.

If you write in one of the genres that Critters caters towards, be sure to check the site out. Let me know what you think of it.

For The Girl:

Lost in Darkness,
my life before
Meandering the sands
of a distant shore

But all I loved,
with all my core
continued my heart
there would be more

And then it was you,
upon this shore
And it was you,
forever more

For all my faults
which might not cure
Please keep me yours
forever more

For when we find
that life is yore
I will remain yours
forever more

The stories of people leaving their dogs (and babies) in their cars in the sweltering heat while they go shopping have been rampant over here this Summer. This sort of thing always reminds me of “How Could You?”. It’s a piece that I’ve posted on the blog before.

I first heard of it on Classic Rock Q107’s website. The morning guy, John Derringer, tried to read it on air one day and had a rough, rough time with it. Q107 took the audio clip off their site a while back and I’ve never been able to find it until recently.

I took the audio clip from here in order to ease some of the bandwidth to that site. It’s about 10 MB in size.

“I could do with a smoke.”

“Wuh…Sorry, what was that?”

“A cigarette.”

“No, I don’t have any. I don’t smoke.”

“No, I meant…I could do with a cigarette…But with the indoor smoking ban…”

“Oh. Yeah, this city’s gotten pretty health conscious.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing though. It’s happening all around the country.”

“Can’t you go outside?”

“It’s really, really cold out there. Especially with what I’m wearing. Besides, I’m liking the piano guy too much right now, anyway,”

“Yeah, he’s playing pretty good.”

“The music’s ok.”

“Oh….”

“He’s kinda cute for an older man.”

“You prefer younger men.”

“I like men that I like.”

“Oh.”

“Well. Maybe I’ll go have a smoke. Will you be here in seven minutes?”

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

“I don’t wanna lose my spot. And I was gonna ask if I could borrow your suit jacket.”

“Can you ask someone else? I don’t smoke and I’d have to answer too many questions if my jacket smelled like smoke.”

“Yeah, the bartender knows me, I’ll borrow his coat.”

“And I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding a seat when you get back.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This is an unremarkable airport hotel lobby bar after all.”

“Yup, my thinking is that four people—including the bartender—here late on a Monday night really need to find better things to do. I’d call this more of a lounge than a bar though. Don’t you think?”

“Lounge, bar, whatever, I think that this is such a jammin’ hot spot I’ve got to put it on my list of places to revisit. You’ll be here when I get back?”

“From your smoke? Yeah, I’m not planning on going anywhere soon. It’s been a really long day but I’ve got some thoughts to organize still.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You here on business?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yep.”

“Ah.”

“…you don’t look like a business kinda guy.”

“No? How would I look if I was a business kinda guy?”

“I dunno, it’s just one of those vibes that people give off in these places. Maybe it’s the men-away-they-play thing.”

“That’s pretty stereotypical.”

“You might think so, but I was here before you came in.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And you didn’t notice me over there.”

“Was I suppose to?”

“Most guys do—the straight ones anyway. And like you said, there’s only four of us in this place.”

“I’m married.”

“I know. And so is everyone else here.”

“You’re married too?”

“Yup. I’m married and I’m married.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I’m married to my job, and I’m married with a ring.”

“Ah.”

“Am I disturbing you? I can go if I am.”

“What’s that?”

“Am I bothering you?”

“No, it’s ok, have a seat…please.”

“No, it’s ok, maybe in a few minutes when I get back.”

“Um. Ok.”

“I promise.”

“No problem. The seat isn’t going anywhere.”

“And you?”

“Sorry?”

“Will you be here when I get back?”

“Yup. Me, and my briefcase and all my stuff.”

“You know, you’re cute, but you’re too caught up in your work to notice.”

“I’m too busy to notice that I’m cute?”

“Yup.”

“Well that’s a strange thing to say.”

“Not really. I’ve got a cousin who is the hotness with women. He knows it and he works it. He would have looked at me over there.”

“Your cousin?”

”Yeah, but then he would have recognized I was his cousin. Although—well—Oh, nothing.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You said although. Although what?”

“It’s not important.”

“Well now I’m interested.”

“Well. Cousins did get down and dirty in the old days.”

“Huh?”

“You know, the dark ages, B.C.—before Jesus. Cousins married cousins back then.”

“Yeah that’s true.”

“Yeah.”

“Well I’ll see you in a few minutes. Wait a sec, why did you come over here?”

“To see the piano man better.”

“But you’re not watching him.”

“We’ve been talking. And I just started imagining you in one of those wigs from those times when cousins married cousins.”

“I always used to wonder how people got anything done in all that get-up back then. You know, the fluff and corsets and wigs and shit.

“Guess getting the stuff off was the lead up to getting off.”

“Well I heard it helped to keep the body odour to a minimum.”

“Yeah, maybe until the clothes came off.”

“Heh. Yah…So…what’s your name?”

“Bea.”

“B? Your name is a single letter?”

“No B…E…A. It’s short for Beatrix with an X, like in dominatrix, you know. And you?”

“What’s that?”

“What’s your name?”

“Parker.”

“That’s your first name or last name?”

“First.”

“It’s more like a last name.”

“I like my name. It’s a good solid name. I think. My parents gave it to me you know.”

“Wow, really? Well mine is a bit dowdy, which is definitely not what I want to be.”

“You think so? I don’t agree. I’ve known Gladyses and Ednas and some of them have been pretty hot.”

“Really? So you’re a bit of a lady’s man with the gramma’s huh?”

“Hey!”

“Are you here with your wife?”

“No she gets too bored on my trips.”

“Ah. Well there are fun ways to fight boredom you know.”

“Yeah. She’d need to take time off from her work to travel with me though.”

“I see. So you’d rather meet strange women on your trips then.”

“What?!”

“Well there you are sitting drinking in a smokeless bar and talking to a woman about foreplay.”

“We’re not talking about foreplay—“

“—No, we’re not talking about it, we’re doing it.”

“What?”

“You and me, we’re…you know. Isn’t your heart racing–your juices flowing?”

“Uh..”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a prude.”

“I am not.”

“So?”

“Huh?”

“What do you say? No one’s gonna know.”

“I’m married.”

“It’s not love and commitment that I’m talking about.”

“No, we’re talking about temptation.”

“Yeah, and stripping away all pretences of corsets and wigs and fluff and getting dirty.”

“You’re married too.”

“Yeah, and I love him to death. But I haven’t been home in two months.”

“What do you think he would say if he knew?”

“Stupid question. He’d flip.”

“Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“Of course, but like I said, he won’t find out. And I think you and me…well we could help each other iron out some issues tonight.”

“I need another drink. I thought you were going for a smoke?”

“Forget the smoke. I’d rather take a long slow drag on something else now.”

“I can’t. Sorry.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve probably got a pretty good case of blue balls by now.”

“What the fuck?”

“So it’s a no then? You’re refusing the softest, wettest, invitation, you’re ever gonna get.”

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’ve accepted lots in the past.”

“You weren’t good enough for them to stay with you?”

“You know what? You can stay here if you want. I’m gone.”

“Don’t you want to see what I’ve got going on under my hood? Feel my breath all over your body? Rut all night long and when the morning comes, never see me again?”

“…no…thanks. You’d…Like I said, I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the company.”

“Ok then. See ya Hon. Oh, there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Your wife asked me to give this to you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Here, open this envelope. It’s your invitation but it’s not from me. It’s from her. And it’s for when you get back home.”

“What the fuck?”

“You’re lookin’ and talking funny. I think things are backing up in you. You’d better run up to your room and take a load off, so to speak. I’ve got one more job tonight.”

“You bitch!”

“Yeah, comes with the job. But you should be proud of yourself.”

“Whatever. You women are fucking perverted manipulators.”

“Hope you’re not including your wife there.”

“Oh yeah I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll see things a little differently when you get back home. She does love you lots you know.”

“For fuck sakes.”

“It’s because she loves you that she had to test you.”

“Life already has enough tests. I don’t need her to get involved.”

“I know. She said that your company has been laying off. Well, let’s just say that this is the test. Those few who pass this one just…let’s say…they pass for life. So you think about that. Say Hi to Cassie when you get home…but I’m sure you will. I’ll let her know that she won’t need a wig or lots of frills or a corset. In fact, I’ll let her know that she only needs to open the door for you. Ciao!”

“And fuck you too.”