“Well, Eventually….” An Alien Observes.

 

aerial shot of buildings
Photo by Benjamin Suter on Pexels.com

(c) 2019 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

In the 1970s, the FBI learned to categorize deviant behaviours and coined the term “serial killer.”  It is part of human history, detailed beautifully in the Netflix series, Mindhunter. 

Who knew that eventually, hateful behaviors and hate crimes against others would be encouraged, that humans would willingly destroy other humans.  Why am I even here?  Oh, I am here to categorize and understand their behaviors.  It is a disturbing job.

Sometimes, it seems they will destroy themselves.  Understanding their motives seems pointless.  Sure, greed is one of the hugest motives I’ve observed, but others just don’t make any sense: the desire for the perfect cheeseburger,  the most beautiful house….Wait, those fit under hunger and, um, pride.  No, not just hunger, but, the word is addiction.  They aren’t just feeding hunger, but rather, they are seeking certain tastes that make them feel a certain way.  Yes, that’s it.  And they will knock each other down and/or lie to each other to fulfill these wishes.  But greed, it truly is the worst.

I feel that this job is finally getting to me, but I suspected it would, eventually.  It has now been three human years.

09-24-2020

Ambassador “Darwin” M2ZZTTHHem,

    of the planet ZZTTaton, Visitor 14,983.

Shuts down his communication device.  Stares at the Megan Fox poster on the wall and then the Rembrandt painting.  Tears off his Rolex watch.

Shakes his head.  “I need to burn these possessions and go get lost in the jungles in Brazil.  Maybe they won’t find me.”

 

 

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Melt (Out of the Mouths of Babes) #RDP

 

Sandwich, Lunch, Grilled Cheese, Meal Photo via Pixabay, (c) Dustytoes

“Mama, when cheese melts, is it still cheese, or is it bread and cheese?”

“Yes, hon, the cheese is still cheese, but now it’s even more enjoyable. ”

“I love bread AND cheese, and tomatoes!”

Mrs. Vincent put two slices of tomato on his sandwich.  “You should! Now they’re all better than they were before. Such a great combination!”

“Add pepper, please?”

Mrs. Vincent added a dash of pepper.  “Is that just right?”

“Yeah.  It’s not as boring now.  Is that why America was called a ‘melting pot’?”

“It still is my dear. Remember why you love it.  Don’t let anyone tell you different. ”

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2019.

 

*Follow ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com to receive the daily prompt!

“Take a Hike.” #RDP #amwriting

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa

John had been through this before.  No one understood how he processed things.  This was his third foster home in a row.

His foster dad, Mr. Biggins, spoke in a strange way., but John really wanted to know the workings of this new household and had a lot of questions.

Mrs. Biggins had shown John to his room.  There were two smaller children in the home, but John got his own room.  Mrs. Biggins was busy cooking dinner one day when John asked why there wasn’t much toilet paper.

“Oh, we try not to use too much paper.  It’s Mr. Biggins’ rules, you know.”

John went to ask Mr. Biggins, because sometimes he needed a lot more than what was rationed to him each morning.

“Take a hike,” Mr. Biggins said.

“But, but, that doesn’t answer my question.  Sir,” John added politely.

“Learn to use less.  Conserve.  Now, I’ve answered you.  Go take a hike.”

John suffered for a year in that home, with people who did not understand his needs.  Finally, he was adopted by a loving family.  The Servos lived in the big city.  John looked down at his hiking books.  No woods to explore as he used to do for hours when living with the Biggins, where no one cared that he was gone for hours as long as he was back before dinner.  Summers had provided a lot of education in nature.

“Would you mind if I take a hike?” John asked, longing for some movement and fresh air.

“Well, that’s an interesting thought,” Mr. Servo replied.  “There’s this place a couple blocks away with excellent gyros.  And the doc said walking would good for my heart. Come on!  We can talk on the way.”

***The Ragtag Daily Prompt is given daily in the form of one word.  Writers take it from there.  This story was just short of 300 words.  I hope you have enjoyed it!  See other responses or learn about this challenge at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/12/rdp-friday-hike/

 

low section of man standing on autumn leaves

Photo by Lum3n.com on Pexels.com

Friday Fictioneers. Observations at the Theater. #amwriting

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

All writing © Pamela Schloesser Canepa

“You know, if aliens were studying us, they could learn a lot about us from our viewing habits,” Roma claimed.

Billy shrugged. “You’ve got some weird ideas. I’m just excited for the tenth installment of ‘Halloween!’

Roma stopped at the snack counter. “Let me get some popcorn to calm my nerves.”

Minutes later, they were claiming their seats. Roma cringed during every tension-filled moment. The audience screamed; Billy just laughed.

That is, until Billy noticed the strange man on the left of the theater staring at him. Every time he turned, the man stared. Billy cringed…Someone was watching.

-99 to 100 words in response to the photo prompt given for the Friday Fictioneers Challenge at http://rochellewisoff.com 

Caring for Your Psyche. #amwriting #fiction

 

blur close up dragon figure
Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

By Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2019

“We are all given a psyche.  You must think of your psyche as its own living thing.”

This was an interesting class Cassie dragged me into after my divorce.  The instructor was a little wacky, though.  Lots of college kids were there.  Were they getting college cred?  I sure wasn’t.  Continuing education?  Hmm.  Some blond, New Age hippie named Ashbury sat to my right.  Much to my relief, he smelled of Irish Spring.

The instructor continued: “Imagine your psyche as a living being…and draw it.  Then, label it.  Your last instruction, is to start nurturing it.”

I started with paws, and a belly, then decided to step out for cigarette before finishing.  I was sick of always doing what I was supposed to; it got me nowhere in my marriage except mismatched with a narcissist.  Plus, I had no idea how to picture my psyche.  Some air might help.

Ashbury smiled at me. “Are you stuck?”

“Yeah.  Shhh, don’t tell anyone.  I might be the failing student here.”

A smile spread across his face.  “You can’t fail if you took the first step.” He pointed to the half-hearted drawing on my paper.  “What will the rest be?  I wonder.”  He tapped his pencil to his forehead lightly.

“Right now, I wouldn’t care if you drew something on there.  Something radical, horrible, I don’t know.  I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later I came in , apologizing to the instructor about a stomach issue.  Sitting down, I saw a baby dragon staring up at me…and Ashbury smiling at me. There was a lovely orchid on his paper.  I chuckled.

“Mine looks like ‘Puffin’ McStuffins’!  Well-done, Ashbury!”  This man had sized me up and done my homework for me.  Could I nurture Puffin in all of his adorable imperfection?  You bet!

“So now you have a name, too.  I think you’ll pass.  How do you think we could nurture an orchid and a baby dragon together?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Passion-fruit tea?”  I said through a smile.

“Yes, let’s go!”

He walked out first with his drawing, and I followed moments later.  The instructor just looked up at us, defeated.  Or maybe he knew I was beginning the process of nurturing my psyche?

*Posted in response to the prompt at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/06/06/rdp-thursday-nurture/

I hope you enjoyed my story. I’d love to hear your comments or your experiences with this topic!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Patterns in our Ways.” #amwriting #shortreads

aerial shot of buildings
Photo by Benjamin Suter on Pexels.com

What do your behaviors say about you?  Who really cares?  Someone does.  Humans are inclined toward making patterns, setting boundaries to their land to say what is theirs.  Other humans want no less than what you have.  These imaginary boundaries sometimes can be seen from outer space.  They make the place look ridiculous and make humans quite predictable.

“Merv, you’re being pretty ominous.  I really don’t think you want to share thi…”

“Stop second guessing me, Philbert.  You always do that; you’re just as predictable as a human, just like that one in the cage over there.”

“Sorry specimen, he.  Definitely needs a mate.  Of course, he was always alone on Earth.  Showed up at work at 7:35 after stopping by Smoothie Champ.  Home at 5:30 after shopping for dinner and his next day’s lunch.  What a boring fellow.  No wonder he’s sweating back there.  Something new has happened in his life!”

“Philbert, focus.  We need a second specimen.  How about that one that stops in the bodega every Weds. morning and heads to the bookstore every Thurs. night.  I’ve been watching for four weeks; it seems pretty reliable.  We should swoop in during our current 24 hour period.  I like these patterns.  It’s a good compliment to that turtle of a man back there.”

“It’s worth a try.  You’ve done well, Merv.  I think this will get you promoted!”

A smile cracked a million crevices in Merv’s face.  It had never looked as beautiful to Philbert.  He closed his eyes to memorize the patterns in the cracks.  Certainly Merv would not let something like a smile repeat itself too often.

Posted in response to the daily prompt at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/05/18/rdp-saturday-patterns/

Wrapped up in Silence. #Flashfiction #FFfAW

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Akshata Ram.

Mitzy’s over-active imagination was in hyper-drive.  What would happen if she had to scream for help out here?

Would it be amplified, carried to the closest town?  Or would it be absorbed by the snowy tree-tops?  Would it perhaps cause an avalanche?

Mindy had other thoughts.  “It’s so peaceful out here.  Quiet for a playground!  I hope Mom and Dad don’t find out we went so far.”

“It’s too quiet,” Mitzy announced.  She kicked the mound of snow that Mindy had just formed.  Quiet wrapped around them like a false comfort.

“Don’t ruin it all,” Mindy scorned.

Mitzy opened her mouth and let out a piercing scream.  A bird fluttered from a tree.  No other response was made, but Mindy reacted in kind.

“Stop it, stop it!  There’s something wrong with you!”

Quietly, Mitzy answered.  “It was just an experiment.  See, it’s over.  Now I know what would happen.”

*A 149 word story.  A weekly photo prompt is provided at Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers and bloggers are challenged to response with a brief, flash-fiction story.  It’s a lot of fun seeing how drastically different some of the responses can be.  The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Thanks for stopping by and reading my flash piece!