Digging

Poor William spent his day sifting through the heap of disks piled at his feet. He crouched down and, holding each disk carefully, turning them around in his hands, separated the good from the bad. Some had eroded connectors, some had rust on the casing, other cracked - each a sure sign of moisture damage. These he tossed with a clatter into the corner. Those that passed inspection were carefully wrapped in old, anti-static bags and put into his satchel. His hope was to find some useful information on at least one of them.

The dank walls of this old data center had kept away most scavengers. The low ceilings - or, rather, high floors - kept the air heavy and wet. That same raised floor also was certain to be hiding pools of water, which had probably come in through the main entrance, and trickled down the deep tunnel into the main chamber. Most would think that the data in a place like this had rotted away like so much wood, but Poor William was sure a digital diamond might be found among the moldy rough.

A Quick Update

I missed last weeks deadline, which, if you've been paying attention, is roughly Sunday-writing, Tuesday-publish, at the latest. I had a bit of a rough weekend. Turns out Berlin beers are not that good for me.

I had one. Honest. That's how bad they are for my system.

I am working on a story at the moment - I did still get a good start on Sunday - that I hope to have finished up for this weekend. It's a bit of a post-apocalyptic number, so that's new for me. I will be on vacation for the next couple of weeks, as well, so I'm not sure if I will get something published over that time. I will make sure I can get a story written while I'm gone.

A Letter Recalling Miss Clara Beaumont

May 21, 1901.


Dear Mr. Phinneaus,

I hope my letter finds you in good health and recalls me, Miss Clara Beaumont, to you.

I must first and foremost confess, ever since your visit to out little town of St. Charles Ferry, I have not been able to clear you from my mind. Your heroic actions, not unlike a Hercules, have also made a tremendous impression on me and the town as a whole.

Were you aware that the mayor has commissioned a statue, in your honor, to be placed in the town square? It is to be place very near to the monument to Fallen Soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic - a high honor indeed, sir. Your great reputation has you dealing with all kinds of other-worldly events for the most important of worldly men, that I would certainly not think poorly of you, if you have forgotten us.

Navel Gazing

In the beginning, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I mean, think about it: no space, no time, no matter, just nothing. A whole lot of nothing. Or a whole little. Hard to think about, isn't it? But, that sort of nothing didn't last long^[1].

The Universe happened.