Friday, 15 October 2010

STAR TREK Nostalgia

Which theme is your favorite?

Star Trek: The Original Series, of course!

Star Trek: The Next Generation, without question!

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, trust me!

Star Trek: Voyager - what else?

You REALLY expect me to choose? Pfffft!!!

None of the above -they're all dull as ditchwater!

The original theme music always makes me feel the most nostalgic!  And Mr. Spock remains my most favorite of all the aliens!

Next in line is STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, with my favorite captain, Jean-Luc Picard.  Yeah, Patrick Stewart has my heart!  And his English accent is so sexy...   Commander Data and Lieutenant Worf up the alien ante!  LOL!  Gotta love 'em!

Ah, Commander, later Captain Benjamin Sisko, the Emissary of the Bajoran world, is the next leader of note in this series, and the first Black captain.  (Did you know Avery Brooks (Captain Sisko) was- and may still be - a college professor in a New Jersey university?)  I love Odo the shape-shifter, and Dax the Trill (what a worm!), the best aliens in this set.

And finally, STAR TREK: VOYAGER, home of Captain Janeway, the first female leader.  And new home of the first female alien, Seven of Nine, who happens to be an ex-Borg!  Oh yeah, and let's not forget the Doctor, a hologram, no less!  Wonderful!

Thursday, 14 October 2010

RWC #45


She read the headline again, and almost spilled the cup of joe she had in her left hand, she was laughing so hard.

"UFO Over NYC"  

She chuckled as she put the paper down.  Oh geez!  All the people freaking out over a light in the sky!  Shaking her head, she finished the coffee and rinsed the mug before drying it and putting it back in the cupboard.  As she got ready for work, she wondered how many of those people who saw the lights actually thought they were seeing an unidentified flying object, Brushing back her very short red curls, she smeared some lip balm over her chronically chapped lips and grabbed her backpack.

No doubt all the talk at work would be about the UFOs.  Well, she knew she could avoid it if she stayed in the mail room.  No one bothered her there, and she was glad of that.  After the last two years, she reveled in the peace and quiet, and most of all, the anonymity, of the mail room.

Hopping off the train at the last stop, she walked briskly through the cold morning air to the laboratory, and passing through the employees entrance, she swiped her ID card and smiled at the security officer stationed there.  He was a pudgy little man, with blotchy skin and a bald head, and the most beatific smile, complete with dimples.  Everybody loved Charlie, and he returned their affection with great good humor and warm acceptance.

"Morning, May!" he said in his surprisingly virile man's voice.  The depth and timbre of it always struck a place inside her like a whip.

Morning, December!" she answered with another broad grin, and waved as she walked away.

Their morning ritual was special to her.  Without Charlie, she was just another face in the crowd.  He made he feel like part of something important - a friendship.  Turning down the long corridor to the capacious mail room, she passed the small secondary morgue, where Joe the Skeleton presided at the door in gruesome splendor.  Suppressing the shiver she invariably felt at this part of the way, she hurried to her place in the mail room just past it down the hall.

As she had become accustomed to it, the absence of anyone else at this hour did not bother her.  As long as the door remained closed, she could live with the knowledge of the dead almost next door. Putting her coat and backpack away in the locker assigned to her, she got to work on checking the sorted mail for the day.  She was scheduled to do the deliveries this week, which meant if anyone had left any sorting undone, she would be late delivering the mail.

A sound at the door made her look up, but it didn't open so she went back to checking that the mail had been sorted by floors, and where required, by offices.  Bulky mail had been placed on the motorized cart for ease of distribution, and she nodded, half an hour later, satisfied that she would make the "morning run" on time.  Checking the watch hanging from the chain around her neck, she saw she had time for another cup of joe before her day began in earnest.

The money for the cup of coffee was already in the snug side pocket of her uniform, and she walked out the door to the coffee machine across the hall from the mail room.  The hairs on the back of her neck stiffened, and she turned, alarmed, but saw nothing.  She stopped in front of the machine and listened, but no reason for her increasing heartbeat was apparent. 

She called out.  "Hello?  Is anyone there?"

That there was no answer did not surprise her.  No one was likely to arrive for another half hour.  She was always the first to get there, so she could do her checks and be ready to roll before the others came, or the press of people who frequented these chilling halls became more than she could stand.  And yet...the feeling that there was a presence there did not leave her.

Shaking her head, and breathing deeply to calm her quaking nerves, she got her coffee and returned to the mail room.  Everything was in order...except for what looked like an aquarium, glowing faintly in the back corner, the darkest part of the room, where neither daylight nor lamp light quite reached.  Gripping her cup for dear life, she walked toward the glow, hesitating a moment to wonder whether or not she should call for backup.

The melodramatic phrase made her giggle nervously, and she chided herself to stop being a ninny and just check out the corner.  Stepping resolutely around the last stack of mail, she felt herself prepared to scream for help if need be.  What she saw stole her breath...and her voice.

No one in the mail room attended to the aquarium till each had gone to investigate its faint glow. And no one else got any mail...

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

To enjoy other great reads, go here...Challenge #45

Sunday, 10 October 2010

UFC #253

Sumax's Challenge

Write a Monorhyme poem about school in 250 words or less.


You can choose anything that happens at school, from first day, learning, playground games, fighting, teaching or playground supervisor, et al ... but the subject matter should convey the idea of a school setting.


A Monorhyme is a poem in which all the lines have the same end rhyme.

See example here …


The entry must be in Monorhyme.

If is it not in Monorhyme and/or exceeds the 250 word limit, then it will not be accepted.

This one was very hard for me, because all my school stuff is so distasteful.  Anyway, I decided to go for it...


The day dawned bright and fair.
Teenagers everywhere
groaned loudly at the care
that Mrs. B made clear
she wanted them to share
in writing essays rare
on Chaucer's Chaunticleer.

Boys sat with faces bare,
and wished for their own share
of lazy summer fare,
of final moments rare
where they could take a dare
and kiss the shoulders bare
of girls down at the fair.

Girls fussed on with their hair,
and wished that they could stare
with longing eyes so clear
upon the handsome pair
of new boys over there
beside the wooden chair -
one boy would only glare.

Their teacher didn't care
that boys or girls weren't there
to learn about the fare
she had prepared so fair
for their especial care.
She really was aware
of each one's angry glare,

She put each in a pair
so they could each one share
the burden and the care
of reading Chaunticleer,
and memorizing fair
the lines about the dare
that caught him fair and square.

The fox out of his lair -
the students did not care!
The boys in lather rare
their goal would not forswear.
The girls sought to ensnare
the new boys in mohair -
they were without compare!

"Quiz time!" she did declare.
She knew this was warfare,
and since she would not swear,
she needed to beware,
or else the students there
would all her goals impair -
but she did not despair.

Pinning them with a stare,
her gimlet eyes aware
that no one had a prayer,
unless they had the flare
to let their thoughts cohere
on that poor Chaunticleer,
first question hung in air...

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

For better work, go here...UNITED FRIENDS CHALLENGE #253

Saturday, 9 October 2010

RWC #44


Max couldn't stand those big, fearful eyes a second longer.  They tore into his soul and ripped him apart.  He swallowed to keep his own tears at bay as he tried to decide what to do.  He hadn't known till that morning, when the package with the letters, legal documents, and pictures had arrived, who this forlorn and frightened little boy belonged to, and when he had discovered it, the weight of the world had pressed in on him. An elephant on his chest would have been a far lighter burden, and the pain much less intense.

He watched as the little boy's eyes welled up, and his pudgy fingers tightened on the ancient railing. He understood the panic that the child must be feeling as they stared at each other.  Why would anyone want to hurt this child?  How could they bring themselves to even attempt it?  Didn't they know who he was?  Didn't they know that he protected the weak, the innocent, and those who couldn't protect themselves?  Didn't they know that he protected his own?  He shook 

"Randy?"  He made his voice as low and non-threatening as he could, but the rusty-nail-on-concrete quality could not be hidden.  Grown men shivered when he spoke, he knew, even when he spoke without anger or threat.  What must he sound like to this innocent?  He was not surprised when the boy did not answer.

"Randy, I know you don't know me, son, but..."  He paused.  How in the name of God was he supposed to say this?  Who in the hell would ever have believed it? Out of nowhere, Darth Vader's dark, angular mask floated into his internal line of vision.  He smiled, hoping that he didn't look like a wild tiger snarling at his prey.

"Randy," he began again, "I am your father."

There, he'd said it.  Not that it made a difference to the cowering child, but at least it had been broadcast to the air, it had been released, given its freedom.  It could never be taken back.  

Randy watched him, and Max could see the emotions warring in him.  He was only three, and he really didn't understand that the reason he was clinging to that old iron railing like a lifeline was that he needed his dad to be there to protect him from the bad men who had been plaguing his life for the last six months.  He didn't realize that he needed to be loved by a man who would show him how to be a man himself one day.  He didn't know he mattered now more than he ever had before. He didn't know Max.

He didn't know...but he would.

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

For others, visit here: Challenge #44



"It's not really white, is it?  But it's exquisite!  That iridescent pink was perfect for the ceremony.  And the hat!  I want to swoon!"

The old lady's tears hid in the creases of her wrinkled cheeks.  Had it been so long ago?  She was that woman still, frozen in that day of love and loss.

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

Friday, 8 October 2010

Fiction in a Flash ~ Week 5

The "rules" are few, and very simple:

* Your entry will come due each Saturday, when a new picture will be posted.  
* You may only write 55 words.
* Your entry must be fiction.
* Post your entry as a blog on your page, and drop off the link in the comments section on this page.
* Have fun!  (Yes, it's a "rule"!  )