my very own cowboy

he loves me. through all the simstim. the holograms. the fake sensations of the other world. i breathe his breath. the small room full of technology. we hardly ever speak. i hand him everything he needs. never consciously touching. only the brushing of fingers. my fingers through his hair while he’s sleeping. keyboard lovers. i feel his eyes on me. i never look up. never let him know. it would damage. everything. repairing his decks. quietly sitting on his futon. sweet tea and dumplings. raindrops on my hair. on my bare shoulders. the thin dress translucent. his eyes in the other world. waking up. early morning light colouring his hair. his hand. his fingers. on my shoulder. dare i touch his terminal tanned face.

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For My Friends

A Long Way from Known Waters Nader groaned. ” That was the worse joke I ever heard. ” He closed his eyes and shook his head. ”What? It’s a classic!” Aldon’s voice cracked as he pretended to be insulted. With a shrug, he shimmied up the railing and secured the line he was supposed to be securing. ”I’d like to hear you tell a funnier one!” His voice was almost lost on the ocean wind. Nader narrowed his eyes as he watched Aldon scurry between the lines. With a small shake of his head he went back to coiling lines and making sure they were out of the way of the crew. He missed being on the Indenel, this smaller ship was too crowded and it was near impossible to find a spot to just sit and watch the ocean. Captain Arelel was relentless in finding chores for him to do. Even if they were useless ones, like recoiling already perfectly coiled rope. ”Nader!” The Captain’s voice cracked like a whip. Nader hoped he had managed to hide his jump of surprise, but t...

A Room of One’s Own

It was Virginia Woolf who said that women need a room of their own, a room where we will be able to write (fiction more specifically). I was lucky in that respect when I began to read and then later on when I started to write poetry and prose as a teenager. I was always encouraged to both read and write, and my father would take me to the library and introduce me to the wonderful world that is Science Fiction. Growing up I was sort of an only child, I never had to share my space with anyone. Okay, the “sort of an only child”-thing might need some explaining. My older sister, by 6 years, was severely handicapped ( Retts Syndrome ), so we could never have any kind of sisterly bond or do anything together. When she was 17 she died from heart failure, leaving my parents and I to continue life without her. Yes, it was an easier life because she needed so much help and we could never take any long trips; or if we did my parents had their hands full with her and sometimes I was l...

I Killed Him!

I’ve started writing my novel again; maybe it’s being back at school that’s given me all these ideas. What I have so far is almost half a book, it needs more detail and some fleshing out and maybe some more drama before I can say it’s finished. A friend has been reading what I have so far and has been asking me questions about why and who and where, making me see that some things weren’t as clear as I thought they were. She also pointed out that one of my characters does nothing for the story. He just tags along, saying hardly anything and I realized that I put him in only because I wanted the boys and girls to be an equal number. So now, when I’m rewriting and adding he’s been cut out. I killed him. Well, maybe not anything as drastic as that, but he’s gone from the story. This changed the story some (duh), and it’s now better. There’s more focus on my main character and those closest to her. After dragging myself to the gym today I now really feel the need to get started with...

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