Fade to Grey

http://www.wetcanvas.com/Community/images/15-Oct-2005/532-grayscale_demo2.jpg

    "Jake. Jaaaake. Jacob! Wake up, man!"
    Jake's eyes snapped open. He was in bed and staring up at Taylor who had the same shit-eating grin that he always did right before they both got in trouble for something.
    "I don't wanna." Jake moaned, settling back into his pillow.
    "Too fucking bad." Taylor wrapped his burly arms around him and lifted him straight out of bed.
    Jake was by no means a little guy but he was stilled dwarfed in comparison to the massive Army Ranger. He accepted his fate and, after being set back on the ground, quickly dressed while Taylor practically jumped up and down.
    "Why?" Jake asked curtly as they made their way out the door.
    "The party, man! Don't tell me you forgot."
    "Of course not."
    As sleepiness began to fade, it was all started coming back to him, the get together at Emilia's house. They had been planning it for months. He must have forgotten to set his alarm clock the night before or something.
    The ride to Emilia's was quick. Before Jake even realized it, they were walking in the front door to a room full people who were all laughing and cheering and having a good time. A cooler full of drinks sat next to the table and at least a few people had joints in hand.
    "Jake! There you are!" Emilia's screamed happily as she ran up to hug him. "I haven't seen you in forever."
    Taylor didn't say anything as he walked away to retrieve a beer from the cooler. Instead he just gave Jake and Emilia that same shit eating grin as before.
    "It's been too long, Em." Jake agreed.
    Once upon a time, Jake and Emilia had dated. They even thought they might get married at one point but when things happen, people just can't go on together like they thought they would. Jake was with Meredith now but was happy the Emilia didn't have any hard feelings about it. They made small talk and settled at the table with everything else.
    "So how's everyone been?" Jake said with a huge smile.
    He looked around the table and saw so many people that he hadn't seen in years. Taylor had been away at war, playing Army Ranger and fighting for the rest of them. He and Emilia hadn't seen each other since their relationship was broken up. John had always been the quiet artsy type who kept to himself and locked himself away from the world. And Caitlynn had always been a much bigger fan of the club scene than any of them and had become a world famous DJ that toured the world.
    There were so many more with so many stories, but as Jake's eyes wandered to each of them, he noticed something that grabbed his attention.
    Emilia had a number of paintings around the table. Some she had done but most were John's. Something was wrong with the paintings. The colors were faded to grey. What was once a beautiful play on paint thickness and color was now just a blob of greys and blacks.
    Jake looked at Emilia and pointed at the painting but she didn't even bother looking at it.
    "So!" she said with a huge smile. "Earlier we said that we'd discuss what we wanted to do when we all got back together. What are we thinking?"
    "I'm voting for something outdoors." Taylor chimed in as he took a long swig of beer.
    "Of course you do." Caitlynn said in her normal sarcastic tone. "God help us if we ever did something inside."
    "Hey, not my fault that buildings can't contain my awesome."
    Everybody chuckled at the terrible joke and John quickly chirped up.
    "I don't know, something outside sounds kind of nice." he said, his voice oddly quiet.
    "I'm in." Jake agreed.
    Caitlynn groaned and let out a sigh. "Fiiiiiiiiine. What are we thinking anyway?"
    Jake found himself staring at Caitlynn now. Not to hear her opinion, but to literally try to hear her. Just like John before, Caitlynn was suddenly growing quiet. As if someone had grabbed the "Volume" nob and cranked it lower.
    "I wanna going fishing." Taylor said, nodding his head as if he were agreeing with himself.
    Again, just like Caitlynn and John, his voice was too quiet. Everyone's was. He looked at them all in confusion. Were they playing a joke of some kind? No one seemed to think this was weird at all.
    Just as he was going to say something, he noticed that the grey of the paintings was spreading. It was boiling over the frame of the painting and draining the color from the walls, moving to the ceiling and floor.
    Jake snapped up with surprise. What the hell was going on?
    "Guys...?" He said, pointing at the slowly creeping loss of color.
    No one paid him any heed. They just kept talking about their plans.
    "No fishing." Emilia said, "What about something like go-kart racing? Or we haven't gone rock hounding in a while!"
    "Rock hounding?" John said with surprise. "I've never done that."
    The grey was spreading across the floors and ceilings now. Climbing up the legs of his friends' chairs.
    "Guys!" Jake yelled, panic welling up inside him.
    Still, no one paid any attention. Instead, each time one of them talked their voices got progressively quieter.
    "Oh, it's awesome!" Emilia said with a smile. "We have to do it. You can find all sorts of stuff like opals and fossils!"
    " It's true." Caitlynn said with a begrudging smile. "I found a few dinosaur bones once."
    The grey started to engulf his friends. It drained the color from their faces, from their clothes, and seemingly took the last of their voices. All around him, the color had been sucked out of everything in the room. Everything except himself.
    Taylor must have made some snide comment because everyone started laughing, but he could no longer hear his friends. It was like Jake was standing a vacuum listening to the roaring silence of nothingness.
    Jake's heart pounded as he looked around in panic. What the hell was happening? What was he supposed to do?
    Than, all at once, he realized his friends were looking at him. They seemed almost expectant as if they were waiting for an answer.
    What had been said? What did they want?
    What do you think, Jake? Taylor asked more in his head than anything else.

    Jake snapped awake in his bed again, this time staring up at his ceiling. All around him, color had returned. He could hear the birds chirping outside and the cars racing by on the street.
    With a sigh, he heaved himself out of bed and went to the closet.
    It took a few moments of digging, but there, at the bottom of his closet beneath discarded old shoes and a knapsack that had long ago lost its usefulness, he found a box filled with pictures and mementos.
    The first picture he found was him and Emilia, together and happy. She was smiling than, holding a candle that she had made at one of those "Make-Your-Own-Candle" booths at the state fair. It was green and blue and looked almost like the ocean, he had thought. That was before she had gotten sick. Before she had gone to the hospital and never come out.
    The next picture was a drawing. A rough and dirty sketch Jake himself had done of a rather sullen looking John. The proportions were off but you could clearly make out the sad expression on John's face. It was that depression that eventually locked him in his room for the last time. His mom found him the next morning.
    With a chuckle, he found the professionally done picture of Caitlynn. She was behind her turntable while people danced by the hundreds in front of her. Jake couldn't help but wonder what she might have been on when this picture was taken. Coke? Heroin? Jake had never paid much attention to her drug use and now he really did.
    The last picture he pulled out was Taylor and him standing together when they were 10. Now in his 30's, the picture was taken well over 20 years ago, but you could easily see the men they would both become.
    Tears rolled down Jake's cheeks as he looked at it.
    Taylor had joined the Army and become a Ranger while Jake, having blown out his knee and back, was never allowed in. He had served for years without his brother at his side but managed to come home safe and sound all the same. That's why it hurt all the more when he was told a year later that Taylor was killed in a motorcycle accident. He had survived years of bullets and bombs and explosions only to be taken down by a 42 year old drunk driver in a rent-a-car.
    Jake carefully replaced the mementos, taking care not to damage anything, and slid the box back where it came from at the bottom of the closet. His wife had asked why he didn't hang the pictures up somewhere in the house.
    "I'd rather not," Jake had said. "I don't want to take the risk of them fading."





(I hope you guys enjoyed. Yes, I know the whole "it was all a dream" metaphor is a bit over played however this one seemed appropriate as it was based on a real dream I had and real people I've known. Obviously a number of details have been altered here and there but the message is hopefully the same: cherish the time you have with those you love. Even the mundane stuff will be a blessing if you can ever relive it.)

(Current Untitled) - 03.29.16

http://www.wallconvert.com/search/apocalypse/

    Whether most people admit it or not, many dream about some kind of worldwide catastrophe. Whether it be zombies, some kind of massive plague, or maybe even a world war. Many people dream about having the planet wiped clean of humanity.

    Now don’t get me wrong, few would ever dream of admitting it.

    The very thought of the horror of such an event, how many lives would be wiped away in any kind of global catastrophe, is sickening. So many men, women, and children, each with their own individual hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes, gone forever. Billions lost. It turns the stomach.

    However, it’s hard not to admit that there is a certain allure. If there wasn’t, why is modern media dominated by this post-apocalyptic ideal?

    Those brave enough to admit their own desires will surely have their reasons. The environmentalist might say “Now the world can begin to heal.” The survivalist might say “Now I can live without being bothered.” Hell, we all know at least one person who wants nothing more than to just go fight the zombies that might plague this theoretical world.

    At the end of the day, no matter the reason, it all boils down to individual greed.

    The desire to see the world turned from that which it is into a barren wasteland, no matter the type, stems from a selfish desire to make the world itself yours. No rules. No boundaries. Take what you want and make your way in the world without anyone telling you what you can or can’t do. A clean slate to do what you will.

    But there’s one problem

    No one ever thinks that they will be the one to die in this apocalypse. They are the one who will see it through. They are the one that will see the world born again. They would never hope for such a disaster if they didn’t think they’d survive it.

    Would they?

Sorry about the wait

First and foremost, allow me to apologize. I'm well aware that I have been neglecting the site for several months now. I won't go into the finer details of what's been going on but know that it's been a number of things including major illness, financial issues, and a combination of both career and family changes. Please note that this isn't a matter of pity but simply a thinly veiled excuse for my absence despite my best efforts (see January's failed attempt to return).

Unfortunately, due to everything, I simply wasn't writing or producing anything. That said, I hope to start working my way back into regular writing and production (if the fates allow). I don't want to make any false promises regarding daily production, however shooting for at least once a week to start doesn't sound too bad.

If you have any questions, feel free to let me know. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the above post (currently untitled), an excerpt from the new work that I've started. I hope you enjoy.

- RB

The Barren Pot

    Long ago, in a kingdom all but forgotten by the passage of time, there lived a young child. Now this child was neither strong nor fast. They were not smart or savvy. They were just a child like any other who was born of a mother and a father who worked hard for what they had and cared deeply for their child.

    At the same time, there lived a King. He was well known for being cunning and clever and always finding a way to turn the worst situation into the best. He had ruled the kingdom for many years. While some thought ill of him and others held deep love, the one thing everyone agreed on was that he was an honest King. A man of the people who always spoke his mind and told his citizens the truth of what was going on; for better or for worse.

    But, clever or kind, honest or not, the one thing a great King cannot escape; nay! What no man, woman, or child can escape is the passage of time.

    The King had become quite old over the years. A handsome brown beard had become wispy and white. Burning eyes that watched the court’s every movement had become clouded and grey. The oak that had stood tall bowed to the wind and the rain.

    Sadly, the King had never married.

    Some say he had loved in his youth but lost her before gaining the crown. Others believed that he was always simply too busy to seek a wife to sire him an heir. Whatever the reason, the King held no heir. No person to take the crown in the approaching date of his death.

    Now what might this have to do with our young child, you ask? Just listen, and you will see.

    The child, while doing their chores, heard an announcement from one of the King’s men.

    “All who wish for a chance at the crown, make way to the court!” the man bellowed.

    How odd. The child thought. How peculiar indeed.

    Now, the child held little interest in the matters of court, but their mother and father, who worked so hard and so long for their place in life, wanted more. They rushed to the court with the young child in tow.

    “No pushing! No shoving!” shouted a man at the gates. “You’ll all get your turn.”

    And they did. Man, woman, and child were paraded through the court like show ponies before the old King and the guards in shining armor. Some ladies danced and sung to demonstrate their prowess while men showed off their great muscles and their swordsmanship. But it was never enough for the King…

    What did he want? The child wondered.

    Dozens of people were turned away.

    Then hundreds.

    After thousands of people had been turned away by the King, only twenty remained before him. Our young child and nineteen other bright eyed youths.

    “You twenty are the ones I believe show the most promise.” The King said in a raspy and tired tone. “You are the ones who I believe are the best hope for this kingdom. The best hope to take my throne…”

    The guards produced a table from beneath a heavy cloth. On this table, twenty clay pots rested quietly in two rows. Off to the side, a single glass bowl held a number of little seeds.

    “While I think you all have potential, the crown fits only one.” The King went on to say. “And so I will give you all a task.”

    With a wave of his wrinkled, shaking hand, the King motioned towards the pots and the seeds.

    “You will each take one pot and one seed. You will be given two months to grow that which you can from that which you are given.”

    The crowd gasped aloud.

    “You mean to tell me you leave our lives in the hands of gardeners?” a man shouted in anger from the court.

    The King did not respond.

    “In two months’ time, you will return with your pot and your seed and whatever has come of it. I’m curious to see what great and tall plants will come of this endeavor.”

    And so the young child, along with nineteen other youths, were given a pot and a seed and sent on their way.

    At first, the child was hopeful. They planted the seed right away and cared for it carefully. They watered it and fertilized it and let the pot rest in sun and in shade, just in case the plant needed either. They spent every waking hour watching the pot, waiting for the first sprout to show.

    But, after several days, nothing…

    “I’m sure it’s just taking a while.” The young child’s mother said.

    And so they kept trying. Soon, days turned to weeks and still nothing.

    “Perhaps the seed is bad.” The young child’s father said. “If only we knew what type of plant it was so we might replant it.”

    The young child said nothing. Instead, they went for a walk through the village to look at the other plants that the children were growing.

    It wasn’t long before the child reached his nearest neighbor and saw the beautiful morning glory flowers that were blooming from the pot. In weeks it was already vining and budding.

    Oh no! Look at that flower! It’s gorgeous already!

    They continued on to the next house where they saw the next pot. To the child’s surprise, a red rose was growing out of the pot!

    A rose? But the last flower was a morning glory…

    Entranced, the young child continued on. In the walk, they saw five morning glories, four roses, six petunias, three snapdragons, and one lily.

    Returning home, they looked down at the barren empty pot and smiled with realization.

    Soon, two months had passed and the children once again stood in the King’s court with their pots in hand. Everyone laughed and singed and pointed at the gorgeous flowers that every youth held. Everyone had a beautiful flower except the young child. Their pot was still empty.

    Many people pointed and laughed and mocked the child but they remained quiet.

    “A gorgeous morning glory.” The King said to the first child as he called them up to show what had grown. “Truly you have a knack for this kind of work. Step back until I make my decision.”

    “What a beautiful rose.” The King said to the next child. “Hold there until a decision has been made.”

    It continued like this one by one. Praises and compliments and standing ovations for the gorgeous plants each youth held. Until finally, the King reached the young child who stood before him with their barren pot.

    “And you, child. Your pot is empty. You are surrounded by beauty and fairness by all the other competitors. Why do you approach me today.”

    “B-b-because, your M-majesty. You wanted to see what came of this endeavor and you have seen it.”

    “That I have.” The King said, a joy slipping into his cracking old voice.

    “We have our new sovereign!” the King declared to the shocked gasps and guffaws of the court. “And my heir!”

    “But how?!” cried the parent of one of the children. “My boy’s rose is the most beautiful here and that child has nothing in their pot!”

    “And that is why.” The King said with a smile. “For they are the only one to have nothing in their pot.”

    The court felt silent at this.

    “Tell me, sir.” The King said to the parent’s youth. “Where did you get your rose seed?”

    The youth hung their head in shame. “My parents, your Majesty.”

    “And you?” he asked another.

    “The gardener.” She said with tears in her eyes.

    The same repeated another seventeen times, one by one, as the King revealed how every child or parent had planted new seeds when they realized the seed they had was barren. The young child, neither cunning nor witty, but honest, was the only one who did not cheat in hopes of winning the contest.

    “And you, child” the King said, “Where did you get your seed.”

    “Your Majesty, the King.”

    Before a shocked crowd and a gaping court, the child and their parents were raised up before the other men and women in the room to join the King at his side. Over the years, he taught the child everything he knew and, far too soon, faded with time. But the child, now strong and smart from the great King’s tutelage, went on to become one of the greatest Lieges the kingdom had ever known, always remembering the lessons the King had taught them.

(Please note that most will realize this is not an original story. Instead, this is a story inspired by an old Chinese Folk story “The Empty Pot (An Owlet Book)”. Obviously this is my take on the idea with my own adages and a European spin, however I cannot take any credit for the tale itself and do not wish to. Instead I hope that you enjoyed.)

Writing Inspiration - 01.28.16

Write a story where Humans are considered the invading

aliens of another planet and not the other way around.