Write a bit

TSA's Enhanced Security Spurs US 'Airport Rage' !

2010-11-18T00:22:00.000-08:00

Now that TSA is rolling out these ultra-revealing imagers across the country in an attempt to uncover hidden threats like the so-called "undies bomb" found on a Detroit-bound flight last Christmas.

The agency and the scanners’ manufacturers insist they’ve installed features and instituted procedures that will make passenger embarrassments impossible. But the larger question is whether the TSA’s tech-centric approach to security makes sense at all.

Even the most modest of us would probably agree to a brief flash of quasi-nudity if it would really ensure a safe flight. That’s not the deal the TSA is offering. Instead, the agency is asking for Rolando Negrin-style revelations in exchange for incremental, ineffable security improvements against particular kinds of concealed weapons.

It’s the same kind of trade-off TSA implicitly provided when it ordered us to take off our sneakers (to stop shoe bombs), and to chuck our water bottles (to prevent liquid explosives). Security guru and scanner-suit plaintiff Bruce Schneier calls it “magical thinking…. Descend on what the terrorists happened to do last time, and we’ll all be safe. As if they won’t think of something else.”

Which, of course, they invariably do. Attackers are already starting to smuggle weapons in body cavities, going where even the most adroit body scanners do not tread.

New TSA chief John Pistole says the agency has to shift from a threat-driven outfit into an “intelligence-driven” organization. There are some signs that such a move may be afoot.

On the night in late October that Saudi intelligence tipped the American government off to a plot to blow up planes using explosive packed in printer cartridges, Pistole got a call from White House counterrrorism czar John Brennan. The TSA was then able to give new marching orders to everyone from air marshals to cargo inspectors. An agency team was even dispatched to Yemen, where the bombs originated.

It all seemed shockingly logical for an agency that generally appears to be anything but. The quick response to intelligence and targeted security measures could provide a partial template for future action. The next step would be questioning passengers and employing more elaborate sensors when travelers’ behavior or specific threats warrant — instead of making us all get digitally nude.

Update: How’s the naked scanner story impacting America’s image around the world? This new video from Taiwan’s next media animation offers a clue.

youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBL3ux1o0tM&feature=player_embedded#!

RIM’s Playbook is Making its Move !

2010-11-18T00:02:00.000-08:00

RIM’s new Playbook video has the iPad community on edge. It’s a look at what is to be a real competitive market, and things just may get dirty! Have you seen the video? If not have a look during the next break:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s72rGDUn2uo&feature=player_embedded

Happy Birthday Motorola Droid

2010-11-07T02:05:00.000-08:00

Today marks the 1-year anniversary/birthday of the Motorola Droid. When we look back at the success of the Android platform over the last 12 months, a lot of the credit goes straight to the device that was the inspiration behind the current Android phone and Tablet line-up. The phone that took off with a brilliant marketing campaign, a huge holiday push, and as a choice for those not wanting to go to a certain other smartphone is one that shall never be forgotten.

Happy birthday Droid. We still love ya.

Android, One Mobile OS To Rule Them All

2010-11-06T02:56:00.001-07:00

With Android moving onto tablets there is just no stopping this mobile operating system. As we celebrate Android's 2nd birthday I'm pleasantly surprised at how fast this OS was adopted. It's amazing the amount of buzz generated. Android based phones have surpassed all sales expectations and there is no end in sight. So what did Google do right and what are their next steps in securing their mobile empire... (Rubbing hands together rapidly)

What did Google do right -- just about everything. Google purchased a small company with a slick mobile OS and pampered and supported it though the initial transition phase into Google. Then they ensured success with an approach freedom, flexibility and openness. This was a simple recipe for success.

Next Google sunk bundles into marketing and quickly found mobile providers and hardware OEM’s to get one board. Once HTC and T-Mobile were in the game the odds for success went up dramatically. And once we saw the first release of combined hardware and software we were all surprised at what a solid package it was. Certainly not perfect, but none the less solid. It was instantly attractive to the technically savvy due to its open and free OS. Most young developers love freedom and they especially love free SDK’s and phones. Google started giving them out by the pallets and within months the apps started popping up.

Google quickly set up the Android AppStore with guidelines that makes Apple blush. Ah – how free and open it was, no big brother Apple monitoring, censoring and basically heavy handed controlling of everything. This brought even more developers- and they were coming on board in hordes.

Once the Hardware OEM’s got wind of a good mobile OS they could use for free – well, it’s not hard to figure out what happened next.

To be continued:

iPad - is it all that?

2010-10-22T04:16:00.001-07:00

I'm an early adopter of all things tech. I love to play with, modify, and mess with new technology. I've been in the technology business for over twenty years and am still passionate. In many ways- I'm lucky, and have the benefit of getting most of my tech free via my employers.

Rarely, I'll jump on new tech and pay for it out of my own pocket. I only do this when I find something truly intriguing. For me the iPad was just too interesting to pass up.

I picked up the ipad the first week it came out here in Germany and have had an honest opportunity to put it through its paces. I travel a lot and am able to give any mobile technology a solid usability test in the field. For the iPad- the results were very good.

At first I thought the ipad might just turn out to be a well-designed info-consumable, and not really a good tool. To my surprise, I have been able to write, present, take notes, transfer files and basically everything I do with my notebook- but in a light and extremely transportable device. Everything-- is a bit of an exaggeration; I am still unable to print with ease, though I can use most Wi-Fi/Bluetooth printers. Sadly, there are not many floating around the offices of my firm. So I tend to create or modify the document on the ipad. And using dropbox or email, send it to a device connected to a printer- then print it. I must say that there are solid office based applications for the ipad, and the ones from Apple are currently the slickest of them all. Apple just released a good update which made usability between MS Office and Apple iWorks a pleasure. "Pages," is simply dreamy and so easy to use and create. "Numbers," is functional (as it should be). And "Keynote," is wonderful. All in all, I am productive on the ipad. A quick note; the keyboard takes a couple of hours to get used to, but it is very versitile and I can type at about

Where the ipad shines is keeping you busy while in the train or on the plane. Like I said, I travel a lot. My current employer has me underway in a train (mind you, a super-fast luxury train) a couple days a week. I often have to travel to Berlin, Hamburg or Fulda. All these trips can be between 3-5 hours depending on the point of embarkation. Usually I try and get some quick work done and spend the initial hour or two very productively. After the productive time I then have some time to waste, and this is where the ipad rules. Its beautiful 9.7 inch HD screen was truly designed for movies and games.

Games are a point where the ipad really shines. There are thousands of 'em- and literally hundreds are great quality and good fun. The ipad is a truly awesome game platform, and you can spend hours of fun due to the ipads double lithium approach, yes I said double. Apple, in its wisdom, realized that the one thing holding mobile devices back were their battery life. With this in mind they added a second huge battery to the innards of the ipad offering an unchallenged 10-12 hours of usage. Yes, and it is true, you get 10-12 hours of usage. My experience during the last two months is basic usage I get 10 hours easy. Movie and game time depending on the game is between 7 and 9 hours. A heavy 3d game need more processor power and eats more bat. But generally you can play for hours and watch movies for 10 hours on a single charge.

What else do I love to do on the road: reading. As a writer I need a solid device to read docs, periodicals and books. The ipad does this so well. Magazines just shine and include smart interactive material. Books are also a solid reading experience with little eye fatigue. Generally, the ipad is a wonderful device, and I am getting more and more attached to it. I find it replacing many other tools and even other forms of media. I usually purchase magazines and like to hold them and turn the pages. My rucksack often has a National Geographic, Wired and other news based magazines in it. Currently, I have the ipad. Yep, that’s it. The thing has most of my mags in a great format and what I don't have in magazines, I can get through news readers like Pulse (which I love)..

All in all, the last couple of months have been wonder weeks of having everything I need in one small-slick package. And my little ipad is changing and growing every day. It becomes more personalized as my usage changes and as new applications come out that resolve other issues, needs and tools.

If you have been debating getting an ipad, then wait no longer, this thing Rocks!

Back form the US

2010-07-30T23:06:00.001-07:00

Dear all, we have returned from our adventure in North America. We're tired, but happy that we were able to visit so much family and see so many nice locations.

I'll try and post some photos from our trip soon.

Android Games Getting Better - No Memory ?

2010-02-14T04:31:00.000-08:00

As Android phones receive the wonderful game ports from iphone, we see the need to directly address the SD card. These new games are just amazing, with wonderful graphics and fast action play. They are also between 10 and 20 Mb in size.

With our 256 Mb limitation we desperately need SD access to ensure room for more games on one device. If I put 3-4 games on my Droid / Milestone I run out of space because my standard apps also take up space. This limitation needs to be addressed immediately!

The iphone can address all of it’s memory making it a great game tool. We have the same, if not faster speed and 3-D chip set, our screens are better, but we can only address the damn 256Mb.

Google, get busy and fix this major issue!

2009-11-22T02:35:00.000-08:00

The Silva's are still around and as busy as usual. Sorry I haven't posted for a while. Been working hard and had little time to keep the page up to date. Things are slowing down now as the holidays are creeping up.

My sons are avidly active with karate, music and soccer. So Susi, my wife, is kept on her toes ;-)

I have been traveling a bit with my firm and spent some time in Berlin, lovely. I"ll get into that later next week. I still love my new Andriod phone and recommend a Google phone to any phone hunter.

So, here's the update. I should start posting regularly again soon.

Chris

Just Another Bar

2009-08-22T04:12:00.000-07:00

Bitter white smoke dances around the ears of an older, tired woman. Her life is written in the dark lines on her face. A smiling man sits next to her with reddened cheeks, rheumy eyes and the ugly grin of false humor. In a darkened corner, where the light doesn’t quite penetrate, a young couple cuddle, him with a hard-on and her with a teasing, sadistic smile.

There’s a smell to the place, sweet like aged-spilt beer and too many smokes. But at the same time there’s service with a smile, and what’s your pleasure.
I have a comfy spot, not too light, just right. I start to feel good when my first round hits the table; quicker than shit. The busty waitress assures me I can pay later, she’ll be around again soon. I feel it now, the zone, where Hemingway was, an international barfly, with hang-outs in Venice, Miami and more. I get it. You can throw the dice and everyone’s your friend as long the green's good and the nights long.

There’s music playing too, and in another corner the popular games, just sit down and discuss your favorite player and the highlights of that last dandy-of-a-game and swoop-da-doop, you’re in, enjoying peanuts, beer nuts and chips with the gang. The shoulder claps and camaraderie abound. Happy Ernest again!

But something else is lurking under the smiles, sports and bosom. It’s waiting, mixing with the smoke, gathering when least expected and taking advantage of the moment. Growing with each, I could have done that, ramping-up on every distant delicious memory. The ones when smiley at the bar was lean, sweet sixteen and so damn clean. This is the ghost of the sad souls, those, who deep down, know they’re lost. Who’ve given up, who know life’s tough. Not just TV tough, but honey I want a divorce and our son is gay and HIV positive tough. Those are evil things moving with the smoke exhaled within the smug faked laughter.

I lean back now and notice I‘ve not even touched my beer, it’s still full, but the bar, the bar is overflowing with missed dreams, forgotten loves and forlorn relationships.

Blinking away the busy smoke, I have another look and see the older woman, now just a worried skull, a shade, and I quickly realize the ghosts are getting jiggy with their business. I get up quickly; those damn smoky swirls think they can lull me! The sports fan to my left asks, “Hey man, come on relax, I’ll get the next round.” Moving fast now, I throw my jacket over my shoulder just as he starts to get up. He simply shrugs and settles down again, accepting his fate, realizing that I’m just another goal missed or a pass not received. I feel a pang of loss and it becomes obvious to me then, too obvious.

To him I’m just another- almost.

GITMO - Should We Close It?

2009-06-06T02:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure I'm sold on the idea of closing the Guantanamo facility.

One. Our prisons are overflowing already, where would we put the prisoners?
Two. Do we want these prisoners in the general population with others? They could very quickly set up a fundamentalist entity in our prisons that could easily manage operation on the outside through visits and other channels. The security at most of our prisons is good but we've seen that mobsters can run their organization even while behind bars.
Three. Who is going to pay for it all?

What do you think?

The Easter Bunny was here!

2009-04-12T00:33:00.000-07:00

Hi all, my boys woke up this morning to a lovely Easter day. And most importantly, the Easter Bunny had made his rounds.

Enjoy the photos.

Apologies Abound

2009-04-07T01:17:00.000-07:00

Well, they’re at it again, apologizing. First up today, we have Denmark’s chancellor apologizing for some private run Danish Newspaper’s cartoon running some humorous sketches about Islam. And then we have US President Obama apologizing for just about anything that America may have done wrong over the last forty years.

Come on! Why the apology binge? Is the Chancellor of Denmark somehow responsible for one of the many newspapers in his country? Should Obama be apologizing for anything? Are we arrogant? If so, why should Obama have to apologize? I know he is the voice of America right now, but do we want our voice to be one of apology?

I think it’s time we stop apologizing and start doing something! Make things happen, stop apologizing for things out of our control!

Political correctness has a new face; the apology.

San Francisco's Tenderloin

2009-03-07T12:28:00.000-08:00

A hazy morning just before six. The clean-up crew starts washing away the greasy residue left over from last nights gritty revelry. Police horns leave jagged echoes preparing for daylight, and the dollar toting tourist are headed to Union Square.
*
Fog laden San Francisco, rolling hills and the home of the original forty-niners. Frisco, the Hobart, Embarcadero and Fisherman’s Wharf. But there are other corners to this busy metropolis, dark seedy blocks, where the homeless eek out a rough existence between predators and prey. It’s a rugged playground for those at the bottom of the totem pole. Dingy Market Street’s Tenderloin district is an uncompromising magnet to the dregs and homeless of San Francisco.
*
Daylight: Market Street bustles with activity bordering on civil, but at night, the sleaze and scum come out to play. Junkies and hookers ply for business with zeal. Empathy thrown to the wind as the homeless squirm somewhere in between. It’s not uncommon for a foreign tourist to get lost and become a victim in the deep shadows of Market street. Police patrols and neighborhood watch have done their to best maintain clarity in this blemish on the city by the bay.

San Francisco has much to offer, it’s lovely city by the bay. Wonderful architecture, parks and a hip, up-beat flair. Often called the most European city in the US, San Francisco’s a city everyone who visits the west coast should see.

Just during your next visit, stay clear of the Tenderloin district.

Mars And Methane

2009-01-18T03:50:00.000-08:00

The idea of life on Mars was slipping. Over the last few years there have been many missions, Phoenix and Viking to name a couple, where the results were negative. Yet now we seem to see the indication of large plumes of Methane. Methane is an organic molecule that tends come out of living things or organic matter. So my hopes are up. We know there's ice and was lots of water, now we have methane.

Could we discover life on Mars? I think we need to get a manned mission underway asap!

Looking In The Mirror

2009-01-03T03:35:00.000-08:00

As I look into the mirror I can tell that the holidays were good. I’ve eaten and drank too much and am in desperate need of a resolution. So, here I go again. Sport, diet and no alcohol for the next couple of months with hopes to take off a few kilos. I do this every year and it works. I get busy and feel good again after a few short weeks.

The real problem is maintaining this standard and continuing to lose weight and getting even healthier. Another few months and I would be lean again, not just less round. My blood pressure would go down for good and I would feel great. So why don’t I ever do this? Why do I always fall back into the trap? I put blame, like everyone else, on time. I never have enough time. What a lie; I could easily continue the regime. It’s only a short, tough forty-five minutes a day. I’m weak! Yes, it’s sad, I’m a non-disciplined wimp! But not this year, no, this year I plan to go all the way. Not just a quick fix but the full Monty!

So cross your fingers everyone and wish me luck. I’m on my way to a healthy- long life.

Chris

Terror in India

2008-11-29T04:28:00.000-08:00

This whole terror thing in India has got me angry. Especially the fact that a young girl and her father were killed. What did that girl ever do to anyone? Another innocent life lost to fundamentalist jerks!

I am impressed with the Indian special forces. They got in fast and have been beating the hell out of the perpetrators. Good for them!

As I think about the last couple of days I find it sad that now India; a place we wanted to visit with the children, is no longer safe. Slowly but surely the options for exotic vacations and safe locations is thinning.

This is a sad week for the free world.

Chris

2008-11-16T00:57:00.001-08:00

I 've been an apple fan for years. Apple has been on the cutting edge of user friendly hardware and software since the eighties. Their Notebooks have been especially dear to me and I have enjoyed owning one for some time now. They seem to have a certain natural feel about them that other manufacturers just can quite attain.

I recently had the new Macbook in my greedy mits and loved the feel of the thing. It just seemed to fit. I think Apple have achieved a level of ergonomics above and beyond the other noteboook manufacturers. If you're thinking about picking up a notebook in the near future, have a look at the new Macbook.

They have a stunning new design that is very robust and light. Their new glass led screens are to die for.

Have a look and be amazed!

Chris

Lego Star Wars: The complete Saga

2008-11-08T06:06:00.000-08:00

My two boys just love this game. I'm not sure how many of you have children, or for that matter play games yourself (this ones great for adults too) but this game is recommended. I am so impressed with the puzzles and game play. We are playing it on our Wii and there is a coordination factor to take into consideration.

If you're looking for a great gift to place under the tree for the whole family, this is the one. If you don't have the Wii, I love it and you should have a look.

I hope I helped with your Christmas shopping a teensy bit.

All hail Lego !

Chris

The Dust Has Settled

2008-11-08T02:29:00.000-08:00

Now that the dust is settling, I thought I’d say my peace on the election. With such a media frenzy and, our little Blogosphere just bristling with election pieces I waited for a bit.

As I think about this election, my first question is, am I happy with the results? The answer is, not really. I don’t like Beiden and never have. So the idea of him as a Vice President does not appeal to me. I am also not a McCain fan, so this was and odd election. One where I was undecided for quite some time.

The nation definitely wanted change. I think many a voter truly had a quiet agenda to vote this way and not talk about it much. I am not happy with some of Obama’s associations of the past and am uncertain of his experience.

This all leaves me with an uneasy feeling for the future of the US. I am optimistic none the less. The American people made a decision and I support it. We the people have the power to make a difference, and I am sure Obama and his cadre know this and will do the right thing.

So we step into the future head held high, brave and sure.

Good luck and godspeed America. You decided; thats what’s important.

Whats The Status?

2008-10-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

I haven’t been a posting machine this week and will try and step the pace up soon. The new job is good but has a steep learning curve. I have been honing my German and have spent the last few days translating technical documents from German to English.

Being a native English speaker saps your energy when working in a pure German environment. Don’t get me wrong, I no longer have to translate when speaking the language. I do think, and sometimes even dream in German. But in the technology environment there are literally thousands of technical terms you need to know and know well. I’m in management and attend many senior level meetings, and that’s when the jargon starts flying.

There are so many abbreviations for hundreds of departments, (the firm employs 240,000 worldwide) applications, tools and more. Not only do the abbreviations fly around, but country codes and other things too. Fact is, no matter how knowledgeable you are you’ll have to learn the structure, processes and procedures of the company first. You learn these and learn them fast; you’ll survive, and be successful.

Now I tend to have a knack for this kind of thing and can traverse my way around big organizations rather well. So if I miss a few posts, don’t despair. Once I get settled here in my new job I plan to try and get back to the regular three to four posts a week.

To all you loyal readers out there, Thanks. Thanks for the nice mails and thanks for hanging out with me in my little spot on the web.

Chris

Barrelhouse Jazz Gala continued

2008-10-05T02:16:00.000-07:00

You could probably feel the excitement in my last post, good news, the show was truly wonderful. The Barrelhouse opened with some smooth classic tunes from Jelly Roll Morton and continued to entrance the audience into the night.

The beauty of the Gala is the moderation from Reimer Von Essen. He opens each classic tune with brief history of the song and its composer. He does this with such verve, it immediately sets a nostalgic, almost romantic atmosphere. Most of classic tunes are wonderfully arranged by Horst “Morsch” Schwarz, lead trumpet. In each piece you can hear the patient-care he takes to retain the original piece yet ensure the Barrlehouse flair is there too. Damn good.

The younger members (sadly a couple orig. members have passed away) Jan Luley (piano) and Michael Ehret (percussion) and Roman Kloeker, (Guitar, Banjo) bring a fresh buzz and beat to the cultured talent of the original members. Jan’s pianos solo’s and rolling rag time sound offer much to the Barrelhouse. Technically, Michael’s percussion work was almost flawless. He could come-out a bit more though. (Did I say that?)

The Gala was littered with great guests from the US. One such guest was the amazing 81 year old talent Red Holloway. Red comes from the roots of the American jazz scene in Chicago and has played with Billy HolidayMuddy Waters, Chuck Berry, Redd Foxx, Aretha Franklin,a nd many others. During this same period, he also played road tours with Memphis Slim and Lionel Hampton.

http://www.redholloway.com/

Next up was Gene “the mighty flea” Connors, famous for his virtuoso trombone. His subtle swing and warm voice rang the opera and engaged the us all. Gene 78, played with Ray Charles, Tina Turner, Lionel Hampton and Count Basie and is a charming talented musician with air of dignity.

http://fotowelt.chip.de/k/menschen-portraits/prominente/gene_conners/101944/

To be continued:

Barrelhouse Jazz party at the Frankfurt Alte Oper

2008-09-28T16:58:00.001-07:00

Tonight’s the night! The Barrelhouse Jazz Band is in Frankfurt for their gala party in the beautiful Alte Oper, and we have tickets!

Susi and I have a baby sitter and we’re going to spend all night, and into the morning, listening to international jazz, swing and Blues.

The Barrelhouse (The Feature band) will open up the evening in the Alte Oper. The Frankfurt Alte Oper is an acoustic wonder. It’s all wood and eye candy. It seats thousands and every seat has a wonderful view of the stage. All the above make for a warm delightful atmosphere.

See pictures and more of the Alte Oper below:

http://www.alteoper.de/_en/indexstart.html

Later, into the wee hours, there will be jam sessions on all the floors and in the foyer. These exciting and informal sessions go strong into the early morning and feature the best names in the European jazz scene and some greats from the US also.

Just a note; the Barrelhouse received the key to the city if New Orleans and are one of the most respected German jazz groups in Europe. They have more than 20 Cd’s out and have been on the scene for many years.

See details at link below:

http://www.barrelhouse-jazzband.de/

I’ll continue tomorrow. I’ve got to run now, wrote this on the fly. Got to hit the shower and head off to Frankfurt.

Chris

Election 2008 - A groundbreaking election

2008-09-23T05:17:00.001-07:00

I’ve been thinking about the presidential election this year and no matter what happens it will be groundbreaking to say the least.

If we elect McCain then we have the first female Vice President in the history of our country. In turn; if we elect Obama we have the first minority as president in the history of our country.

Either way this will be an exciting and groundbreaking election.

This should finally put an end to many issues in the US. Could this be the end of racism and the question of equal rights for women?

What do you think. Post a comment.

Chris

Soccer, (Fussball) The World’s Favorite Sport

2008-09-20T12:38:00.000-07:00

I was at my boys soccer tournament today. It was great! I spent most of my time yelling and walking the field with the other dads (and moms). Here in Germany they take their soccer serious. We started at 13:00 and ended at 16:30. Three and a half hours of pure soccer excitement. My boys played four games throughout the day and it was so exciting, painful and fulfilling. They won one, lost one and tied for two.

My oldest, Emanuel is very good. The coach had him play in all four games without pulling him. He played two different positions. He did great! They asked us if he could play in a higher league. Sadly, he has music lessons at the same time of the F league. The times change after winter though. So next summer he’ll be in with the big boys. (can you tell I’m proud)

My little one, Alexander played well too. He is only four, so our expectations are within reason. He is playing as well as his older brother at that age though and is learning fast.

Overall it was a nice day and great sport for my sons.

All Hail Soccer!

Go Lindheim !

e-Bay exploits continued

2008-09-19T05:16:00.001-07:00

Well, I took the honorable high road and informed him again that I would send the transformer for the cost of shipping. Guess what; no response. I guess he believes that not answering is the same as a convenient memory wipe of the seller, that would be my memory. Or what little I have left. Well I'm not playing.

So, I'll now send a nice long mail to e-Bay and let them do what ever they do to this kind of person. Sure, I could re-post, write the other bidders, but would that be fair. What happened to ethics, honesty and straight business?

The beat goes on and I'll keep you all in the loop.

Come back soon and enjoy my pain :-)

Chris

e-Bay Exploits and Surprises

2008-09-18T05:40:00.000-07:00

I have been using e-Bay since its inception and find it one of the best inventions on the planet.

I have now reached 179 items sold and have lost count of all the things I’ve purchased. I have worked hard to maintain my %100 satisfaction rating and am surprised at the gall of some folks.

I have been selling my High-end audio kit lately (with my kids- it’s in danger) and decided to sell it one piece at a time. The whole set is five pieces with two speakers extra. Some of it is from The US and is 120 volts. I recently put a piece in e-Bay with a clear description, and of course included the fact that the piece is from the US and is 120 volt - 60 Hz. I was very happy with the progress and some of the bidders double checked about the voltage. Living in Germany the German power infrastructure is all 220 volt. I did mention to all asking bidders that I have a step-down transformer that changes the voltage to fit the German system.

Well, low and behold, the last bidder and winner of the piece drops me a note, after his very high bid, asking if the piece is 120 volt. I of course answer quickly, that as mentioned in the sales blurb, yes, the piece is from the US and is 120v. The guy answers with “Oh, then I don’t want it.” I, being friendly and careful of my incredible e-Bay status of %100 satisfied transactions, inform him that I do have a transformer, and if he pays shipping, I’ll throw it in. The turd writes back rudely, “I don’t want it.” (like I tried to cheat him)

So, what do you do?

Turn him in to e-Bay and wait forever for my money and let them beat him up
Give up and re-post the piece
Verbally abuse this guy and then let e-Bay kick his rear
Nothing

Jazz and trains, what more can you ask for

2008-09-14T00:44:00.000-07:00

In Maintal - Bischofheim they were celebrating the 150th year of their train depot. I took the boys and we had a blast. They had lots of steam engines and modern trains and all were accessible. And best of all there was Jazz. The Barrelhouse Jazz Band was there and they were great! Jazz, blues and swing, they played it all. Good fun and good music.

Chris

Patience

2008-09-10T04:27:00.000-07:00

I hate to wait. But I have to. It seems things take time and I should be used to it by now, but I still hate to wait.

At the moment I am waiting for many things. Waiting for my new contract with the new company I am to work with as of one October. Waiting for my sons next soccer game. Waiting for things I have ordered in the mail.

As a whole we spend just too much time waiting. Just imagine how it must have been before e-mail, internet, and such. When simple correspondence with family and friends took months.

I guess waiting isn’t that bad. I need to be more patient.

Chris

Wine tasting in the Pfalz

2008-09-08T01:08:00.000-07:00

Susi and I just returned from Deidesheim in the Pfalz wine region of Germany. Had a great time. We went with some very good friends. We all have kids and delivered them to their respective Grandma's and Grandpa's. We took off early in two large vehicles and spent two relaxing days enjoying the pearl of the German wine road.

We had a guided tour of a small but lovely town and went to a villa for a wine tasting.. Later we ate the local specialties.

Good fun for all.

Chris

http://picasaweb.google.com/famsilva/WeekendWineTastingInThePfalz#

Getting Published

2008-09-08T00:39:00.000-07:00

I have been publishing lots of work lately. I'll put a bibliography together soon. This should offer a clear overview on where my published work can be found.

Chris

Lunar eclipse

2008-08-17T01:13:00.001-07:00

I know now how the people of the past were disturbed and awed by a lunar eclipse. Even with our modern street lamps it was dark, real dark. The depth of the darkness when the sun is not shining on the moon is incredible and frightening.

This was an exciting event for the Silva’s and we stayed up late and enjoyed every minute of it.

Chris

PS. In Germany it was a [b]full[/b] eclipse.

2008-08-14T12:07:00.000-07:00

I had a very good interview today. It was at an American Bank who specialize in the automotive industry. Went well and lets see. I hope to hear back sometime next week.

Played some soccer with my son Emanuel and a friend of his Ramon. Had a nice time and I am enjoying the time off and chance to bond with my kids. Manu's getting better and better at ball control and I am so pleased with his progress. Alex seems disinterested. I hope to motivate him more in the neat future.

Chris

2008-08-06T10:57:00.000-07:00

I have decided to leave my place of employment. This is a big step, I have two children and have been with the bank for three years. I am looking hard now for new work and have had some luck. I have an interview on Friday with another American transaction group. Keeping my fingers crossed.

C

2008-08-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my son's first day at school. This was an emotional roller coaster ride for my wife and I. It was also a major step for my son. This step seemed so far away just a few short years ago. Now he is going to school and getting homework.

To my son, enjoy.

Papa

A Galaxy Apart

2008-03-07T17:06:00.000-08:00

The helio-ion sign flickered and shed soft light on the dirty street. The blast doors were all down at this time of night and the dual moons of Tor reflected off puddles of unknown liquid, offering just enough light for Kalen to see as he hurtled down the street. Gripping the device as he ran, his breath came in gasps and he could hear his heart pounding.

His grip tightening as he slipped and almost fell, the sound of a hover in the haze somewhere behind him made him put on more speed. Just a few more blocks and he’d be home free. Something crackled close to his ear. He smelled the bitter ions as they impacted with the air around him. He was being shot at.

He chanced a look and wished he’d never turned his head. The Hover was closing, blasters bright green from firing, and a hum could be heard as they were powering back up for the next volley.

Kalen ducked and turned a corner, darting into a small alley so dark he couldn’t see a damn thing. Luckily he’d been there before and pushed a big plexi-bin to the side and knelt hitting the keypad fast. With a soft whoosh a small panel slid open and he squirmed in.

Inside he hit the soft glowing button and the panel closed and disappeared. Above, the plexi-bin moved back in place and the alley was again dark and empty.

Kalen looked at the device and slid out a gar crystal from a recess in his cubby. He inserted the crystal into the lower part of the device and quickly entered the coordinates. He felt an odd chill run through his body and a tingling in his head. His ears rang and all went black.

*

Soft light and focus.

His one room flat was its usual mess of tech trash and synth food packages lying in little piles. He stepped over to his workbench and pushed some junk into the small round plexi-bin and set down the device with a smile. He’d made it.

The Govies had transporters and they controlled them more than anything else in the galaxy. A brilliant Gurd named Rentox developed the transporter eight years ago when the Republic was still free. The Govs were quick to snatch it and make it non-public. “Just think,” they said. “A criminal with this tech, never. Not to mention what the Reb’s would do with it!” So they squashed Rentox and wiped the patent from history. Very few, except for those in the scientific community even knew the transporter existed. Many wondered though, because the Patrollers could get from A to B just too damned fast.

Now the tables had turned.

**

On another planet a few parsecs away, Jewel paced nervously in her small flat overlooking the busy weigh-station of Kelker. Leaning on the sill she looked out into the gritty haze deep in thought. Jewel stared right through the hovers as they zipped in all directions transporting diverse payloads. She heard a soft tone and turned fast. Running to her vid-com, she secretly prayed for good news.

The lean handsome features of Mairi appeared on the hub. A big beaming smile plastered on his face.

“We’ve got it Jewel, and it’s functional.” “Yes,” she screamed and felt the warm glow of success envelop her. She moved her hand quickly signing off. The vid-com was no place for the conversation she needed to have with Mairi.

Exiting her flat, the door closed behind her with a soft hiss. Her hover was in the thirty-two segment, she couldn’t afford direct parking. The state shuttle was covered with phero-graffiti that changed color and message as it approached. She boarded and ignored the tired passengers and let it carry her away to thirty-two.

*

The eightieth floor of the Republic’s headquarters on planet Tor was brightly lit and heavily populated with rows of cubicles and vid-coms. The floor was a-buzz with activity and there was an obvious tenor of urgency.

In a large corner office with subdued private separators Consul Meer was furious. “You have got to be joking,” he said, almost screaming. “Transporters don’t go missing - never ever go missing.” The shaken cleric said nothing. He’d said it all already and was wishfully looking toward the exit of Consul Meer’s office. It beckoned him as if was the gateway to heaven its self.

“Get out, just, get OUT,” barked Meer and stepped behind his desk hearing the cleric exhale loudly and quietly disappear. Taking a moment to recover his composure, Meer activated his vid-com and called the Commander.

*

Cilian needed to go deep fast. He opened a call on his encrypted vid-com with three of his rebel contacts. The hub fuzzed and broke in to three separate images. One was Kyala, a beautiful Gurd with a serious face. She looked tired, small lines of worry showing on her soft purple skin. She’d obviously missed some sleep.

The second hub bristled to life and came into focus, Kendal. His rugged face looked tired too. The plan and its activation had obviously taken its toll on him. The lack of sleep and stress showed in the thick creases on his forehead. Kendal had a sloppy smile now and was anxious to get on with the call.

The third was Giwan, and he just looked furry and angry as usual, his huge fangs in a permanent predatory grin. He growled on the com and Cilian started to speak.

*
The purifiers hissed softly as Jewel entered the bunker like living towers of the Kelker management. Mairi was a Senior Shift Leader and enjoyed the living quarters attached to his status. The mover shot her up so fast she felt a slight vertigo as she looked out over the weigh station. Mairi lived on ninety-five and the mover stopped with a ping and a jerk. The dura-plast floor shined and the soft lighting was perfect, coming from nowhere. Jewel walked up to the portal and hit the com.

Mairi showed Jewel to a small office, it was neat and nicely decorated. As they entered the scanner started a full three-wave scan that ended with a soft digital female, “clear.” The voice was sexy and sounded vaguely familiar. Jewel gave Mairi a glare, expressing her frustration with his distrust. “Jewel, we’re where we are because we’re careful. Who knows, someone could have attached a transmitter or worse to you on the shuttle? Come, sit down, and let’s go over the details.” Mairi hit a pad on his desk and an opaque privacy door shut with a soft sound.

Jewel sat down in the soft chair and smiled as it immediately adapted to her weight and body temp, comfort she wasn’t used to. Mairi began to talk and hit his leadership cadence at the third word. He had a low commanding voice that Jewel could listen to for hours.

“As you know, we started this project at the university on Tor. We recruited a couple of academics, but we all agreed the key players would have to be ex-Mil and or ex-Govie toughs. This is where Kalen came in. He’s ex-special forces, a commander, and a smart and able man. He’s our link. He took over where you left off and organized the academics and Gurds into a movement. He planned and trained the team into a platoon-like force. Jewel, what you did to raise the funds was brilliant, but Kalen, he was able to get a group of diverse players and turn them into a team. He did this on a short budget and with surprising speed. ” Mairi had begun to pace, two steps, stop and turn and two more steps.

“Kalen’s team, together with your funds, and our oversight organized the perfect operation. The tactical parts of this operation were so important that Kalen left a ‘black-out clause’ on two critical steps. These steps, we all agreed at his insistence, had to be done by Kalen and Kalen alone.”

Mairi stopped pacing, and with a severe look explained further.

“We received the signal this morning. We’ll begin to transport the key players for the pickup. Let’s just hope Kalen holds up his end of the bargain.”

-

Dark Days in Sharm EL Sheik

2008-02-02T07:30:00.001-08:00

Her eyes stung from beads of sweat running in slow rivulets down her forehead. Here on the Red Sea the heat was miserable. Better than Cairo she thought, where she'd often offered more than just a massage. The sun burnt tourists were always friendly and tipped well. Her shift was almost over and her overweight American patient fell asleep some time ago. Miret could feel her stomach tighten as she thought of her next fix. Mustafa the Turk, always had the best and his price was fair. Best of all, when she had little money she could use other methods of payment.

Cleaning up her station she bid the new shift farewell and went out the back entrance heading over to the employee huts. The smell of garbage suddenly filled her nose and she thought about the contrast of the tourist areas and true Egypt. The Egypt she knew and hated was to Miret just one big garbage bin.

Her hut was small and it welcomed her with its cool interior. She kept it very clean. Miret understood, to make it in the tourist industry one had to present a tidy image. Once inside, she closed and locked the hut's thin wooden door with a soft click. She went into her kitchen and grabbed one of the little vinyl-aluminium chairs. Carrying it over to the door she carefully placing it under the knob and jammed the door closed. Management often tried to surprise their employees. Not Miret.

Exhaling deeply, Miret pulled out the old leather bound Koran and opened it to a grimy page near the back. She felt her pulse quicken as her heart beat faster and faster, her fix near. The little bag with its brown contents, her spoon and kit now lay on the commode. Her bathroom door was closed, locked tightly. Miret left Egypt; she moved body and soul to cooler and more affluent regions of the world. Places where women could be more than labor and pleasure. Time left with her and she was free.

Suddenly she felt something pulling her back. It touched her and she felt heat from its grasp, painful yet more. It was vile, truly evil a rabid darkness. She tried to escape, but it attached itself to her somehow, clinging to her very soul. She felt weary as it fed and grew.

*

Merit slowly came down and woke up with her back to the bathroom door. She had a sharp pain where her right leg fell asleep. Rubbing her leg vigorously and slowly standing up, Miret looked into her little mirror. Her tired eyes looked back and then for an instant, a flash, she saw it! She thought it was a dream, but no, she saw it. Looking hard it flashed again. "Yes my dear, we are one now you and I." No, no, cried Miret, what are you? She could hear it plain as day, its steely voice edgy and capable. She realized horrified. The voice, the voice was in her head.

Miret's mind screamed as she fought what was happening to her. The thing held on tight as she mentally pried at its degenerate grasp. "Give up girl, your mine now and we have work to do," again its voice, crisp and haunting in her head. No, please, she continued to struggle slowly realizing its hopelessness. Miret fell back to the cold white tiles exhausted, her mouth moving as if it had a mind of its own. What do you want from me, what have you done? "Oh dear, you don't know do you?" She could feel it smiling; somehow she knew it was enjoying her pain. I was hard to tell at first, its voice so strong and steely, Miret thought it was a man, but now as it spoke, she realized it was a female voice. A voice so utterly horrible she thought she must vomit. Tasting the sour bile she asked, who are you? "Dear, later, later. I said, we have work to do."

Miret felt herself being pushed as if she were a marionette. She saw her hand open the thin bathroom door, and as if with a mind of its own her body began to walk into her small living space. Quickly passing the sitting area Miret could hear her feet making soft padding sounds as she entered the kitchenette. Left hand on the worn Formica top, her right hand pulled the drawer's handle. It opened with a soft screech revealing her utensils and the two kitchen knives she’d brought with her from Cairo. Her left hand reached out and grabbed the larger of the two, her mind screaming as she saw its razor sharp edge glint and reflect the light. Miret was right handed but the knife felt so comfortable in her left, it’s as if it belonged there. She looked again at the knife and shuddered in horror, it reflected not her visage but that of a monstrous toothy grin.

"So sweetie, where do we find this, Mustafa?" I-I- can't, no- what are you, no. "OK sweetie, then it's the hard way." Miret felt her mind ache as if it was being squeezed in a press. Arghh, the pain! "So, off we go. Next time simply tell me and save yourself some pain and pride dear." Miret turned on her heel and headed toward the simple door. Exiting quickly, the door slammed leaving flakes of cheap white paint flittering down to the cement of the entrance. Merit, her eyes squinting against the sunlight felt sickened by what the old crone had planned.

Still kick'n

2007-11-20T15:43:00.000-08:00

Hi all, thought I'd take a minutes to say hello. I've had such a busy few months. My brother passed away and he was only 45. I flew to the US to ensure the burial went well and pay my respects.

The job is as busy as always and I find I have little time for anything but job and family. I am sorry my writing has paid for this lack of time but I'll try and write more soon.

Thanks for your patience and friendly mails.

Chris

The Gift

2007-09-27T12:52:00.000-07:00

The Gift

A short story by Christopher S. Silva

It was a sunny summer weekend and I was outside working in the garden when something wonderful happened .The change was almost unnoticeable, then a rush of heat and a loud bellow, moist, acrid and hot.

My garden changed from a simple plot into a vast green field with huge craggy rocks and cliffs. I was behind a great boulder and could feel the heat of the beast on the other side. It bellowed again, I ducked, knees knocking. “Come man, grab your sword and shield ‘n we’ll go at him again.” Yelled an armored figure hunched next to me. I looked down and realized that I too was clad in rough armor.

“Heave up your sword, man! We must attack.” Again I searched and saw no sword just an old wooden branch lying at my feet. It was a mere twig. “Yes”, he yelled over the rancid breath of the thing opposite the boulder. I reached down and lifted the stick and it changed instantly, morphing into a heavy sword. I could smell the metal oil, and the hard leather grip felt just right in my iron clad hand. I gave it short swing and its balance was sweet and true. The armor clad knight made the sign of the cross over his chest and gave me a hard shove.

Stunned at the sight before me, I ducked, feet moving to gain solid ground. The giant dragon was awful, with huge yellow teeth and a kind of smelly mucus dripping from its bitter smile. Its voluminous body was all scales and rigid edges, sharp and dangerous. Its Stumpy giant legs ended in frightful talons.

The knight moved fast and sure, he struck like lightning and his blade reverberated off the beast’s scales with a mighty clang. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye as if to say, move! Instinct took over and I leapt, swinging my blade with all my might. Surprised at my own speed, my broadsword landed hard, sinking deep between its scales just below its angular jaw line. It yelped and sent me flying with a shake of its huge head. Hitting the ground rolling, I came to my feet quick and stood stunned for a second. The right side of my armor was badly scratched and dented but held.

The beast teetered and I saw crimson blood ooze from the gash. It let out a scream. The smell of rotten eggs and a billow of smoke rose from its ragged maw. My comrade moved fast and swung hard at the dragon’s underbelly, the smell was awful as it fell with a heavy thud and began shaking uncontrollably.

“Aaha, we’ve beaten him mate!” said the knight pulling at his helm. He had thick dirty blonde hair. His worn silver helm now under his left arm, his right shot out all iron and leather. “Emanuel Silva, Knight of the Portuguese realm at your service sir.” What a great blow you dealt the beast today.” I smiled for our last names were the same. I took his hand and felt his strong handshake. His eyes showed the love for a comrade in arms after a rugged battle.

The ground spun and my hand was no longer in Emanuel’s but on an oar and I was rowing slowly and quietly.

The small boat hit the wooden dock and the other two passengers silently tossed the line securing the boat. Climbing out they looked down at me as if to say, are you coming? I nodded and climbed out, slowly looking about. We were near a huge French style castle and I could barely make out the towers in the soft fog and pre-dawn light. I reached down and felt a sword at my belt; I had knee high thick leather boots with a heavy flap on top. Soft worn leather gloves adorned my hands with an emblem on top, an M embroidered in the rich bordeaux leather. The palms of my gloves were worn and much lighter in color than the back. The right’s leather was worn thin in some places. I was obviously a swordsman, and it seemed, a Musketeer.

The large Musketeer leaned in close and whispered “we’ll have to scale the tower, and then somehow get Pathos through the bars. Our escape must be silent and fast.” I nodded and followed the two swordsmen. Both musketeers were similar in features one slightly bigger than the other and both had the same dusty blonde hair that the Knight had. The one on the right had a long rolled rope over his left shoulder and the grapple held loosely in his right gloved hand.

We sneaked slowly to the moss covered base of the high tower and the large musketeer turned and put a gloved index finger to his lips to ensure silence. He pulled off the long rope and began to swing the grapple in a wide arc. The oval of rope and iron made a soft whirring sound and with a light grunt he let it fly. I could hardly see where it went as it disappeared into the mist toward the top of the tower. With a soft clang it never returned. The smaller one pushed his larger comrade aside and pulled on the rope testing its seat on the tower. Like a monkey he scurried up the rope and his larger companion nodded for me to go up. I am an overweight IT manager not an athletic sprite, but here, I was lean and fit. I grabbed hold of the rope and hand over hand went easily up into the mist. I felt the rope being held taut by our giant companion below.

I quickly came to an oval shaped window with a thick stone sill. The window had two rusty bars running horizontally down its middle. The Musketeer balanced precariously and pulled out a long iron lever. He placed it in my hand and with one foot on the sill and the other wrapped around the rope I moved the lever between the bars and heaved. Snap, I grinned, surprised at how easily I broke the bars.

I heard a whistle from below and knew we had to move fast. I squeezed through the window and landed cat-like in a dark room that smelt of mold and food. There was a small dais in the corner with a blanket covered person sleeping. I walked up and leaned down to shake the man awake and to my surprise is was again Emanuel Silva, this time with the pointed goatee and sharp mustache preferred by the French of the time. I shook him twice and he looked up startled at first then smiled warmly when he saw me. He put out a hand and helped him to his feet just as the whistle came again. The whistle changed to a call and again everything spun softly.

What was a whistle became the soft voice of my wife “come on boys, dinner is ready.” In my hand was my sons hand and I was pulling him from a long cardboard box stood on end and cut in the shape of a castle tower. Alex my other son held a string tight in his little hand, one foot firmly pressed to the box smiling.

“Come on, the food is getting cold.” Again my wife, I realized there and then the gift of children.. The chance to re-live youth, to study a butterfly or an anthill for more than an hour, to be excited about the smallest thing and notice the trivial and all the simple wonders we have filtered with age.

This is truly a wonderful gift indeed.

Hi everyone, yes, I am still alive.

2007-06-10T14:54:00.000-07:00

Just thought I would say hello. I have been real busy lately. My sons both had a birthday in the last two months and I have been working at a frightening pace.

I have been traveling a lot and was in North Africa and England recently, busy, busy.

I hope to take some time and write this week. I'll post soon.

Chrisopher

Latest published work

2007-04-12T01:18:00.000-07:00

All,

the latest issue of Forgotten Worlds just came out; issue 8.

They are running my serial, feel free to go in and purchase the issue.

Here is the link: http://www.forgotten-worlds.co.uk/ hit the button latest issue.

Enjoy

CS

Lost Time

2007-03-18T04:24:00.001-07:00

A short story by Christopher Scott Silva

He was a cranky old soul and no one listened to him anymore. He'd lost his grant years ago and was already lean and stooped when he moved in next door.

One day while mowing the lawn I noticed a bit of smoke swirling out of his small basement window in slow wispy loops. I let go the mower's emergency bar and ran to find out if the old man was in need of assistance.

The weathered door was unlocked with paint peeling and coming off in flakes. I pushed it open and called, "Hello, Professor Lenstein?" There was an odd smell, sweet and chemical coming from the rear and the room had a yellowish haze.

I let off toward the basement and hit the stairs at speed knowing the old teacher never left the house and I was fearing for his well being. The haze was thicker here and I coughed a bit pulling my t-shirt up to cover my mouth, my eyes stinging. The lights were on and to my surprise, the basement was empty. In the middle of the floor was a huge round burn mark with colored rings. I quickly ran and opened the two small windows hoping to let out the dangerously sweet yellow smoke.

As the haze cleared, I saw an old oak roll top desk with some papers laying on it in tidy little stacks. I had a look, now very curious and worried as to the professor’s whereabouts.

There were designs in pencil on the parchment and next to objects complex mathematical formulas. The documents showed a cylindrical object large with a type of command center at its crux.

Under the stack of undecipherable papers was a worn leather bound journal. Flipping through it, there were many references to chemicals and equations, metals and elements. I flipped quickly to the end. The last page was in a clean almost beautiful script.

"Time can be folded, and I have finally proved them all wrong!"

I called the police and fire department. The old professor was never seen or heard from again.

#

Just this morning, there was a bothersome knock on my front door and two men in clean cut black suits were there displaying government service badges. They asked about my craggy old neighbor and I told them some of the odd tale of that day.

Sadly, I explained, I was in a hurry and had little time to discuss the issue more. They left suspiciously and I returned to the door.

I went down the stairs leading to my basement and again was pleasantly amazed by the clean yellow green glow. The shining cylinder was reflecting the tungsten lamps in an phosphorescent metallic way, causing refraction.

I wiped off a bead of sweat and realized that I had just a few tweaks left.

A Comets Tail

2007-02-17T07:38:00.000-08:00

A Comets Tale

By Christopher S. Silva

It was just getting dark and James was eagerly going through his tackle box looking for just the right hook and lure. He loved night fishing and the thrill of catching a large Catfish always outweighed the long waits and sometimes fruitless evenings.

His small rowboat was taking on a bit of water and he would have to bail soon. Normally his son James Jr. was with him and bailed the water every hour or so, but tonight Jr. was ill and he was sorely missed. Nights like this were when James and his son would and could talk about anything, girls, drugs and school problems. He treasured such chances and checked the water level again as he tossed his line in and turned the reel three times, never more never less.

Setting the dented pail down and leaning back, he raised his jacket’s zipper a bit to fight the chilly night. James opened a beer twisting the top off as quietly as possible and waited watching the line and the sign, a bit of vibration and a pull. Smiling and thinking again of his son and the quiet time were they would watch the line together for stretches, just fixed on the thin line that disappeared into the onyx water.

The line had gathered some dew and it was running down it in rivulets, the moonlight softly refracting causing the dew to look colored and oily.

James saw the twitch, a soft jerk he leaned forward and took the rod in his hands, finger on the line waiting, sensing the bite two meters below. He felt a vibration and gave the pole a quick jerk to set the hook and with a grin began to reel hard and fast. The rod bent a lovely arc that told of a heavy cat and a good dinner tomorrow with the family.

The placid lake lit-up with and orange glow and at first James didn’t notice, so concentrated he was on his catch. When he noticed, it was fast and frightening. A ball of fire seem to be coming strait for him. The fishing rod fell from his grasp to the bottom of the boat landing in the rising water. Stunned, turning to follow the fireball’s trail he almost fell overboard.

With a whump, the ground shook and the whole lake seemed to vibrate for a few seconds.

“Holy shit!” “What in the hell was that?” James sat down, fishing rod forgotten; he began to row with all his might in the direction of the sound and the fireball.

Jumping out of the boat winded from the effort a bit of water going in over his rubbers he rushed pulling the boat ashore. Reaching into his tackle box he fumbled a bit swearing when he hooked his own hand trying to find his flashlight. Pulling the flashlight out and putting his finger to his mouth he ignored the copper taste and moved forward toward the soft glow in the wood line just a short distance away.

Branches pushed aside and rubbing his high rubber boots making an odd noise James noticed how quiet it was. An outdoorsman, he knew the woods were many things at night but quiet was not one of them. As a child he’d had to overcome the cacophony of insects and animals to be a good woodsman like his father.

Pushing through the soft ferns he approached something he had never seen before, stunned, he looked down. There was a warm heat and the thing glowed soft orange like an old coal by a fire. The comet or meteor (all his mind could think of) had penetrated deep into the ground and there was a huge crater with sizzling and burning trees at its extremities. He knew he should run and inform someone or get help but his legs were frozen in place.

Seeking To Exorcise The Demon

2007-01-20T12:34:00.000-08:00

The beginning of a short story by Funwriter

Seeking To Exorcise the Demon

The pain was excruciating and the usual ache in my joints was there in spades. My mouth was dry and I was covered in a dark red almost black coppery crust. I rose painfully from the dais and stumbled to the mirror.

My long black hair was full of burrs and encrusted with dark dried blood. I reeked of death. Stretching, my body cracked loudly and I noticed the scratches already beginning to heal. The full moon gone and I would now have just over three weeks to continue my research.

The hot bath felt wonderful and I always wondered how something so simple could bring such pleasure. Scrubbing hard with an old volcanic stone the thick red crust became slime and washed away. Lying back, I tried to remember the last few days. It was never easy when the transformation took over; my mind reverted back to its animal basics. Over the centuries I was able to remember more and more and function better, now always able to return home.
#

I was bitten while on a Portuguese ship charting the new world. We had anchored at a lovely cove off what is now an Island South of Goa and made land to begin essaying the island. We were well into it when night came and that is when the demon attacked.

We had eaten well, enjoyed a port too many and sleep came fast. The smell of the sea always makes a man sleep deep. I was young then only 22 and the lead essayer. Back then we achieved much early in life and lived short hard lives. My crew had done well and I saw no reason to worry for we had seen none of the unusual dragons and tigers we had heard tales of.

I was wrong though, for what came was much worse than any giant lizard or tiger, it was a monster.
#

The screaming woke me with a start and I saw it, a flash of fur and gaping jaws. My faithful crew fell fast though hardened by travel and well trained. One got off a shot with his flint and another slashed well with his blade, but both were quickly taken down.

I'd been sleeping next to the fire and was struggling to exit my thick cape. It came at me with lithe arrogant speed; I raised my arm in defense. I fell back over a log we had used to sit on and somehow the beast and I cart wheeled over with it landing in the middle of the coals and what was left of the fire.

Emitting a strange preternatural howl the giant animal disappeared in a wash of thick hair and an odor of rotten flesh.
#

Vomiting, I gathered my senses and looked around, a throbbing pain in my forearm. Our camp was mess and my crew down and most half eaten. The monster had started silently and got its fill before the rest of us awoke.

The rest was a blur; I gathered what I could of our provisions and headed back to our ship in the landing craft. The skeleton crew we had left on the ship was shocked at my tale and we hurriedly set sail for Lisbon. They eyed me strangely for the first few days but were back to normal after awhile. The captain who worked under my orders as head essayer was more than happy to make the voyage home.
#

Three and a half later weeks with Southern Europe not yet in sight, things began to change and I fell ill. I remember looking up and seeing a moon almost full and shuddering.
#

The Spanish found our ship afloat with me the lone survivor. I told a tale of Turkish raiders and of a battle lost to viscous pirates. Somehow the pirates had left me for dead. Somehow the Spanish believed me; maybe because the truth was simply more unbelievable.

That is how I made my way back to the mainland and the rest is history.

#

So, here I was in the bath contemplating my next step. Over the centuries I have studied the phenomena that blighted me and came up with one solution. After reading one arcane book after another, I finally had a lead.

____________________________________________

Chapter two:

I have a lead.

I came up with something that cross-referenced possible cures for my dark illness. The problem is, the cure is a mystery it is a myth and one that everyone believes in but no one can prove. This could be the only chance I have of becoming mortal again of putting an end to my anguish.
This cure, well, is the cup of Christ. Yes, I know it brings a smile to ones face but the fact is, I have to believe in something and this is surely my solution my repast.

It is said in arcane writings that the cup, the chalice of Christ can cure. Here is the good part now, listen close; it is said the cup of Christ can exorcise the demon. Is that not what I am, what I became on that island long ago off the Indian coast?

So, I am seeking the Grail and have been for nearly a hundred years, ninety eight to be exact. It started as a lucky find a small mention of the healing powers of the cup; the more I dug the more I found hope.

According to legend, the cup Jesus Christ used at the Last Supper (when exhorting his apostles to vampirism) was saved by a certain Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph, for reasons incomprehensible to anyone but himself, used the cup to catch some stray blood dripping from Jesus during the Crucifixion.
Subsequent to this, Joseph took off for parts unknown, where he eventually deposited this cup in a weirdly unreachable location for safekeeping... Against whomever.
*
Over the centuries I have accumulated and spent many a fortune. Now I will use my vast wealth and experience to mount a search, the most incredible search of all time; the search for the Holy Grail. I will find the chalice and when I do, I will rescue my soul!

***

Pin-ping, a sound wakes me from a red nightmare that is the bitter reflection of my life. The Captain turned off the seat belt warning and now we can move around on my private jet; it’s of medium size and full of leather, polished wood and luxury. I never took to flying and hate being in the air. I am afraid this is the result of my ancient sensibilities at play. I have a good crew who I’ve come to trust and of course Sahmir, my faithful assistant.

I found Sahmir in the dusty ghettos of Marrakech. A young Berber waif who was living off pick pocketing tourists and the sale of anything he could get his hands on. He was only eleven then and had mastered four languages. His savvy streetwise toughness and quick honest smile made me give him a chance. I took him in and honed his talents and offered only friendship, education and respect. He took to honest work and research fast. He truly enjoyed reading scrolls and manuscripts and became a proper student. Soon he was doing translations at an amazing rate and became an invaluable resource to my cause.

I got him into Oxford and over the years he has aged and become a companion of sorts. Now he is greyed and in good shape for a man in his early sixties. Long, lean and dark, there is wisdom in his lined face and onyx eyes. He is perhaps the only human alive who knows my secret.

Sahmir would assist in all my affairs and sadly gave up the life of a scholar to help me with my search. He never had time for a wife though there were women. He somehow remained stalwart and true in his promise to help cure me and give me back my mortality.

I got up and stretched noticing Sahmir still sleeping snoring a bit more than I remembered. I went to the bar and poured cold water and squeezed a lemon into the glass, seeds flying. Ninety eight sears of research and finally the beginning. Our first stop would be Israel, Palestine to be exact.

*
Landing in Tel Aviv was like dropping into a shoddy dust bowl, with a bump and a screech we were safely on the ground. The tower had given us clear orders and had set a hangar aside for us to disembark in. Coming out the door and onto the steps I was hit by a blanket of dry heat. At the bottom of the stairs the customs folks were there and the crew were already handing over papers. I rarely ever had any interaction with officials.

The sun reflected off the tinted glass of the low slung armoured limousine and I looked out at the wash of humanity seeing nothing. I broke from my daydream surprised by a huge wall and gate system, the driver bickering, Sahmir was offering cash to the guard. We were now moving away from the West Bank and into the Palestinian zone, the kingdom of Judea, in my day Canaan.
*
Our meeting was with an Imam named El Hasar Bamihr, he was to double check an ancient codex we obtained with we hoped a clue. It was written in old Arabic and there were only a handful of freelancers that could translate it properly for us. There were many scholars who could do this but they tended to be curious and jaded.

The old Imam was stooped with Rheumatism and had an odd limp. He looked to be over a hundred but the hard life and potent sun here made one age fast. He stooped over his marble table shakily holding a magnifying glass. He muttered something. Though good with Arabic I could not understand him. Sahmir leaned in close and whispered back, “What holy one, what did you say?” The ancient little Imam turned and said in clear modern Arabic “in Petra lies the cornerstone, when Allah shines be supine and the way to redemption is clear.”

He smiled a toothless grin and placed a shaking hand on my shoulder.

With shocking speed he withdrew his hand from my shoulder as if being burnt. His face went ashen and he turned as if to run then collapsed to the stone floor.

I quickly reached down to examine the Imam and felt a slow but steady pulse. The door opened with a crash and a group of clerics stormed in “What has happened here?” they demanded quickly surrounding Sahmir and me. Sahmir spoke quickly in Arabic explaining how the elderly Imam had simply collapsed, but I knew different, I knew exactly what had happened for it had happened to me before.
Some mortals, very few indeed, are mediums and with a touch they see what I truly am, what I became those many centuries ago. They see a demon. The Imam is very old and he simply fainted from the fear of what he saw.

I was afraid I have to use my preternatural powers to assist in our escape when the Old man stirred and began to mumble in Arabic about modern monsters.

We carefully and diplomatically made a quick retreat mentioning I had another appointment, at first I thought they would attempt to hold us captive but a young cleric looked me in the eyes searching and delegated in loud clear Arabic, “they may go: get our brother some cold water.”

*
Cruising at a decent speed through the ghettos, the sleek limousine filtered the cacophony of sounds and smells. I was lost in thought when the wall and gates appeared, we were moving back into the west bank now and towards the airport.

Our next destination was Petra in the country of Jordon.

___________________________

Chapter 3

Darkness and the howl of my pack, I must join them for their call is instinctive and indelible. Rushing through the forest I am closer, picking up their scent. The cold wind rattles through the trees and I run with it, almost soundless. There is another scent now one fearsome and strong, bittersweet, I feel my blood rush a female; finally I have found her and she will be mine, I put on more speed.

I woke from my haunting dream, Sahmir softly touching my shoulder. “Old one, we’ll arrive soon.” I nodded rubbing my eyes. “The dream again?” he asked. “Yes, I was close this time and her scent was so strong.” “Old one, do you really believe there is a female, one of your kind out there somewhere?” “Sahmir, I know there is, and like the chalice, I will find her!”

Lithe and elegant, she glided across the room with shocking speed, not walking but floating, in a blur she was there; her skin was light brown and her hair full, dark as a stormy night. In the old language she spoke and it sounded like haunting music coming from her mouth. She held him above her, one thin beautiful hand around his bullish neck. His feet kicking and eyes bulging with fear; “If we are not in Petra on time, I’ll squeeze the miserable life out of you, you mortal dog,” she whispered in Armenian. With a flick of her delicate wrist the large man went flying across the room hitting a wall and crumbling to the floor. A brush of wind she was back at the table reading a leather bound book. The book was ancient and worn. On one side it was ideograms and symbols on the other is looked to be Hebrew or Farsi. “Is the airplane ready Mahit?” “Yes mistress,” a soft answer came from a shadow in the corner. "Then get the things ready and have us in the air within an hour or I’ll flay your hide."

Mahit stood and quickly left the room heading towards the exit of her mistress’s luxurious offices in Dubai. She too had dark lovely hair but there were streaks of grey now. She moved towards the elevator with sure solid steps, fit and graceful. Only when you looked into her sad onyx eyes did you see her true age and suffering.

She had been a slave since childhood and obeyed her mistress with an accuracy none could approach. For this discipline and attention to detail had kept her alive where many had fallen.

She stepped out of the air-conditioned lobby, soft leather shoes making no sound on the polished granite floor. The heat hit her hard and she ducked quickly into a wide Bentley, “the airport please,” the driver nodded and drove the shining shuttle forward. Mahit always was respectful to those around her and through this had a loyal team, something her mistress never understood.

The sleek Lear jet was fueled and ready. Mahit turned from the cockpit and her mistress was standing behind her a marble statue, not breathing or blinking. She could never get used to her speed and soundless movement. She informed her that the plane was ready and the doors open. They could take off at her command. “Let it be done.” Mahit leaned in and kindly informed the pilot he could exit the hanger and begin take off procedures. She turned around to see her leader’s response but she was no longer there, she had already retired to her private chamber in the rear of the plane. Sitting down and clicking her seatbelt shut Mahit took a deep breath and relaxed. She closed her eyes and was soon dreaming of freedom. The flight to Jordon would be quick.

***

Kahlandra felt the mist creep up around her limbs. The smell of the male was getting stronger. With the graceful lunge of her hind legs she leapt and attained the cliff top. Closing her eyes she sensed him and she felt warmth flood her body. She was older than him that she knew for sure. She saw what he saw now and felt him fighting the power, he had not accepted what he was, the fool. His thoughts hers now she knew he was seeking her and wanted contact. A chill struck her; he was searching for more than just her, he was looking for the cup, the chalice. He mustn’t get it, it was her destiny not his. At that moment the decision was made. This Demon, this one like her was an enemy and must be removed from this world, nothing could stand in Kahlandra’s way, nothing.

A bump of turbulence woke her up, the pilot would pay for this insolence she thought. The thought of him begging for mercy made her smile. She went back to sleep, and again she was beautiful, truly beautiful.

________________-

Fw : I hope you like the start, if you do I'll finish it up

All In A Days Work

2007-01-01T10:45:00.000-08:00

A short story by Funwriter

All in a days work:

I followed wondering if she noticed me; she was a beauty and knew it. Her hair so black and legs long and thin, she had a perky walk and clutched her purse nervously like it contained something valuable. As she went down the escalator towards the ground floor I could see the perfect part in her hair.

I moved faster now picking up speed, she slowed to look at some woollen scarves though winter was months away. The exit was in plain site and I was still walking not to raise any attention but picking up speed nonetheless.

Two meters away, I leaned forward and hit the needed tempo for the job. Shoulder and elbow an arrow I caught her hard and snatched with all my might, her wind gone and no sound as she fell. With blood humming in my ears I was passing through the exit a blur to entering customers.

I moved it under my jacket, bringing the pace back to normal, safe zone within sight.

The alley was cramped and dark but I could still see the contents

Pocketing the credits and feeling my pulse pick up I saw it, shiny and small. It was light to the touch, I slipped it in and the images came in a wash, her children and men, her story, her soul.

My legs shaky as I move out the other side of the alley, feeling saturated. A shake of the head and her life’s images drift away, I can’t help but grin..

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year !

2007-01-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

All,

just wanted to send out my seasons greetings and thanks for being so patient.

I am sorry that I have been so busy lately and haven't posted much. I hope to work on the site and get some of my new stories up soon.

Thanks again.

Funwriter

The Razors Edge

2006-11-12T07:50:00.000-08:00

The Razors Edge:

Story by Funwriter

The razor seemed sharp enough and the task was easy enough, but the temperature of the bath water was just too damn cold. The overweight little man mumbled, I just can’t do anything right.

Martin was tired and his soul was tired too. He had ridden the ride and had his fill.

He set down his watch and a few other personal items next to the bath tub and walked over to the mirror. The rings under his eyes were there and so was the stubble of a tiresome day. Exertion was the least of his worries as he added hot water to the tub. This day just keeps getting worse, he thought.

His wife had left him for another man a few years back and his promotion had fallen through, leaving him in the same no-where position he'd been in for over a decade. The apartment was dingy. She hadn’t really left him, but more like thrown him out, keeping the comfortable home he purchased for her on their wedding day fifteen years ago.

He felt the water, noting it was just about right and began to undress. He had been fit once, lean, with a full head of thick black hair. Now, all he saw was a middle aged bureaucrat, pale with a paunch and going bald in all the wrong places.

He’d heard this was the most painless method and hoped it was true. While placing the new razor blade next to his personal things, he took off his white underwear noticing the small holes with a grin. No more laundry, he thought with a smile. He climbed into the tub and laid back, letting the warm water take away his anguish and prepare him for what he had to do. After a few minutes he reached over and grabbed the new blade, pulling the thick cardboard safety cover off. Strange, the silver blade felt so light and insignificant.

Leaving his arm underwater he moved the blade across his wrist. He thought, almost painless and smiled. Moving the blade to his other hand he did the same, seeing for the first time the water clouding crimson, he could taste a bit of copper in his mouth, nostrils flaring.

Letting the blade fall to the bottom of the bath, Martin laid back again and closed his eyes, feeling worry drift away with responsibility not far behind.

Martin thought to himself, thank god he'd had no children. He felt warmth envelop him and bliss settle deep into his soul.

He saw it: a warm white light, so bright and yet painless. Martin had heard of this but was surprised at his own consciousness. He no longer needed to open his eyes to see, he saw all now through his soul.

He felt himself moving away from his body and was looking down, seeing the husk of his former self in a dark red pool, surprised that he had once resided in there.

Being pulled away faster now, he began to notice something new creeping into his thoughts, surprise.

The world below was getting smaller. He could do nothing to stop its progress, he had a fish eye view as he had seen on TV, when watching footage from the space shuttle. He could make out the continents. Feeling very warm all over, as if being pushed into a furnace. Ethereal though he was, it was becoming uncomfortable.

It all stopped for a moment and he was in the vacuum. Stars brighter than ever before, surrounding him, then with a rush he was whisked away, blinding traces and colors all around him and something new creeped into his consciousness, fear.

Flung through space, light and dark colors, his soul changing form painfully, recklessly squeezed through holes in space.

The feel of being touched, memories of his wife, friends, mother and father. All things most valuable at once being torn from him, agonizing his soul, ripping away all that he was. He began to fight, knowing that he could not win. His soul screaming as it was shattered into micro shards, sentient no longer.

*

The being pulled its long thin appendage from the softly lit key that was decorated with a human form. It telepathically sent a message to the command center that the reprogramming could begin. Another one lost and so early in the experiment, these humans were simply too frail.

Floating away from the control panel, one could but marvel at the endless rows of softly lit keys and the endless life forms they represented.

Sunday, another work day

2006-11-05T02:46:00.000-08:00

All,

it's Sunday and I am at it again, I am here at the bank working away. I have submitted more stories to diverse sites and magazines with hopes of a couple being picked up.

I wish I had more time to write, I do most of my writing late at night after putting the kids to bed and spending some quality time with my wife. I start at around 11:30 pm and try and keep at it till 01:00am. I do get up early (06:00) and get off to work early in the week.

So, sorry that I have been neglecting the blog a bit.

I hope to try and post a few photos soon and will do my best to keep it toned down (none of me) :-)

Again, thanks for visiting and feel free to drop your comments.

Getting back to work.

FW

All in a days work

2006-11-02T04:23:00.000-08:00

All in a days work. I followed wondering if she noticed me; she was a beauty and knew it. Her hair so black and legs long and thin, she had a perky walk and clutched her purse nervously like it contained something valuable. As she went down the escalator towards the ground floor I could see the perfect part in her hair.

I moved faster now picking up speed, she slowed to look at some woollen scarves though winter was months away. The exit was in plain site and I was still walking not to raise any attention but picking up speed nonetheless.

Two meters away, I leaned forward and hit the needed tempo for the job. Shoulder and elbow an arrow I caught her hard and snatched with all my might, her wind gone and no sound as she fell. With blood humming in my ears I was passing through the exit a blur to entering customers.

I moved it under my jacket, bringing the pace back to normal, safe zone within sight.

The alley was cramped and dark but I could still see the contents.

Pocketing the credits and feeling my pulse pick up I saw it shiny and small. It was light to the touch, I slipped it in and the images came in a wash, children and men, her story, her soul.

My legs shaky as I move out the other side of the alley, feeling saturated. A shake of the head and her life’s images drift away, I can’t help but grin..

____________

Faster than thought

2006-10-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

Faster Than Thought

A SciFi short by Christopher S. Silva

The communicator grew cold in my grip. My ship was lost. The escape pod had been my last resort. The only way to destroy the alien was to deploy the ship's self-destruct mechanism.

No easy decision. Piloting the good ship Tesca had been my honor. Losing her was more than I could bear. But it had to be done.

I record the circumstances for posterity.

The alien was a monster: we had emerged near a pale blue dot of a planet with a bright yellow sun. I'd beamed to the surface to take some core samples. At first, it was a pleasant experience: cool, alien atmosphere, blue skies and strange mountain ranges white-tipped with di-hydrogen oxide. Beautiful and frightening.

I finished sampling and sent them via halo back to Tesca. I was next.

When the particle shift came — dizzying and numbing as usual — a dark figure, low and fast, skidded into the field with me.

The shift continued and I landed in dock with a slap. Beaming is always a tad painful.

I almost lost balance as I reformed. The alien scurried between my legs — a graceful blur of speed and agility — and disappeared, moving freely into my ship.

I raised a communicator alarm and ran as fast as I could to quarantine the area.

But I was too late. Sensor readings in the dock indicated no life forms. It had escaped.

My communicator shrilled. Eaan screamed about a monster. There. So fast. It was on the move. I headed for the globe, knowing Eaan would be switching the autosync. She must have sighted the beast there.

The globe was its usual blue and soft hue and, sadly, empty. Eaan was gone.

The beast let out a high-pitched sound behind me. That's when I dove into the escape pod and hit the charger. My existence flashed before my eyes, and I prayed to Those Who Know that the beast had not followed me into the pod.

Safe. I scanned the immediate area. The nearest planet had a reddish, dusty surface. Within moments, the pod settled itself on the planet, and began beaming a distress signal. I'd be rescued soon enough.

I retrieved the communicator, and Eaan came to screen, mumbling about the self destruct. Not long to go.

When it happened, I would lose my beloved, but the alien would never invade our world.

I watched the screen, waiting for it. Eann looked ready to fight the alien. It stood nearby, small and multi-colored, with oval eyes, two pointy ears, and four legs. Behind it trailed a fifth appendage that swayed back and fourth.

Eaan moved to strike it down with one of her danglers, but I feared she was too slow. The alien roared a, "Meoww", but Eaan's dangler began stroking the alien's fur, and the beast released a sound like none I have ever heard before: "Puurrrrrr — "

— A single flash. The communicator went dead.

I sat for moment, the pod feeling small and I alone. After sending the distress signal, I climbed into the Cryo-bin and hit the button — delivering darkness and dreams.

Back in action

2006-10-26T00:39:00.000-07:00

All,

Sorry for not posting yesterday, just really busy here at the job and at home.

Funny thing happened last night. I worked about 11-12 hours and was coming home late, I guess it was about 19:30, and noticed a huge pile of wood in our shared driveway. This pile was just gigantic and had obviously been dumped in the middle of the drive by a large dump truck.

I parked and went in to tell my wife and discuss my plan. We have a nice wood stove and I thought this a golden opportunity to get some free wood from the neighbor; I mean, hey it is a shared driveway and all.

We normally order wood in mid to late November so I was sure it was for the folks next-door. So, I was in the house telling my wife, "Hey I think I'll grab a couple of pieces of wood and we'll have a cozy fire for when the kids are in bed, we can relax and watch some TV together".

Susi, my wife, just smiled and with the same insider whisper I had used said “Chris, please be sure to get the wood stacked behind our house tonight, before the neighbors get angry with us.” With a grin she walked away.

Arrggh, so here I am in my business suit and it is around 8pm. I have been up since 06:30 and working since 07:30 and I have to move a chord of wood 30 meters from the front to the back of the house.

Well you can imagine my reaction.

I changed my clothes and started moving the damn wood!

:-)

FW

Modern day super hero

2006-10-25T03:48:00.000-07:00

I just tossed this one out, have fun.

FW

Modern Day Super Hero

It'd been another hard day, I was shattered. I rescued a treed cat, stopped a plane from crashing and lifted an electric pole off a car; saving the three children in the backseat. Yeah, a hard day indeed.

The life of a super hero is not an easy one, with modern litigation and lawsuits flying around more than I do.

Once, I had a fortune; mostly gifts from rescued victims and such. Now, I was living in a two room on the lower east side and could barely make rent.

The first lawsuit was painful and I’ll never forget it. I pulled a small luxury yacht out of a raging hurricane just off the Keys. Basically, saving the passengers. The yacht was slightly damaged in the process but what the hell; the folks walked away, right! But NOOO, that just wasn’t good enough for ole Miss Steinmann. She convinced her lawyer, the jury and the judge, that they would have made it out of the storm just fine. And that I was to blame for the damage done to her three million dollar boat.

I didn’t even have representation then. Oh, how naive I was. I walked in and expected them to thank me for being so great and helpful. Certainly, another key to the city was warranted. What I got instead was slapped with an injunction, and had to pay for the repairs and due stress caused to the Steinmann’s and their passengers. Which, I must say, did not get involved. Oh, that hurt, it really hurt.

I still do it though. I get up every morning and try my damnedest to help someone. Many of my closest friends say. “Harald”, that’s my name by the way, “why the hell do you do it?” “You’re a Super Hero, you could do anything you want”. “Why don’t you just walk into a bank and take what you need and fly off to some place and live happily ever after?” The answer is so simple; I am, and always will be a Super Hero, and have sworn to and will abide by the code.

So here I am, rubbing myself down with Ben-Gay and stitching my costume. I’ll get to bed early and wake at dawn with one task in mind. Helping the human race.

I am a bit more careful nowadays and keep my acts of goodness focused on large disasters, ones that my lawyer approves of of course.

Yes, I keep a mobile next to my heart with my lawyers number on the speed dial, for I am the modern day super hero.

It's Wednesday

2006-10-25T00:52:00.000-07:00

Well, I have been getting a few hits and just want to say thanks for visiting.

I have noticed that most of you seem a bit shy and are not making any comments. Please feel free to do so, I don't bite.

Have a good one and write something.

FW

Fear, a very short story

2006-10-23T04:07:00.000-07:00

I wrote this late one night a couple of months ago, it was 02:00 - 03:00 am and I couldn't sleep. Hope you all like it.

The water rippled as if hit by a pebble. Just an insect I guess. I had been hiding in hope they would give up but every now and then I would hear them and their Asian banter. I was feeling weak but must hold out. My eyes heavy and hunger pains slipping away, I was sure they would never find me here.

When they attacked, they hit us hard, our grazing-fire had done its job but they just kept on coming. I clicked one after the other, letting the claymore’s do the deed and still they came. Unstoppable and fearless they were, and finally, I had no choice.

The mud in my foxhole made it hard, but I scrambled out in a blur and headed toward our Objective Rally Point. "Shit", I heard them again, "oh god they had us surrounded"!

The marsh had a bad smell, but I welcomed its concealment.

At first I breathed through a reed but now I was simply too tired. Thirst had left with the hunger. Sleep was inevitable, maybe tomorrow I will sneak away to the rear, darkness.

***
The sound of the chopper was deafening but Lieutenant Wilder asked again almost screaming, “What in the hell happened to private Page?” “Sir, we looked for him for days, Sir, I just think he lost it, ya know, did you see him just jump out of his foxhole for no reason and run off like that!” “I aint never seen nothing like it Sir, never, he just let out a roar and ran like the wind into the bush!"

The lieutenant shrugged saddened and yelled in the mike attached to his helmet, “MIA, yep that’s right, you heard me, Missing In Action!”

Prepping for the next issue of Flash Fiction Magazine

2006-10-22T05:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I am busy at work again. This is Sunday here in good ole Germany, and I am working hard and have been all day.

My team is doing some major network upgrades here at the bank and we are all putting in a lot of hours. The upgrades revolve around upgrading our network from 100 Mbit to 1.0 Gbit.. The work is going well but we are all tired from a long week and yesterdays work.

I will try and post more stories and or poems today and get this site looking good. Please be patient with the changes and work, I am doing my best with the time I have.

One of my stories is being published in 9 days, and I'll be sure to give everyone the link.

I have another story being published this month in another magazine and hopefully a contract for a serial, cross your fingers.

Feel free to comment.

regards,

FW

Something shiny

2006-10-22T03:49:00.000-07:00

A short story by Christopher Silva

Something Shiny

He picked it up, it glimmered oddly and he knew right away he’d found something cool. It was light, metallic and seemed to change colors continuously. The thing had an odd feel, like a dolphin’s skin, unexpected and very foreign.

A closer examination proved to be useless; his young imagination running wild, he thought this thing is definitely alien or maybe a part of a new spaceship from one of our government’s secret projects. Pocketing the object the teen moved quickly to catch his bus and get to his classes.

Coming home he tossed the backpack on the ground next to the door and moved up the stairs. The thing he’d found forgotten. He listened to some music, modern grunge, and started his home work for the next day.

*
Sharon was doing laundry again; it seemed to her that her life revolved around this task. While prepping the clothes for the machine she found something strange and wondrous in her son’s jeans. She held it for a moment, kind of weighing it, thinking it had a strange feel to it, nothing she could put her finger on, just different. She carefully put it in her pocket and made a mental note not to discuss this with her husband, he would never understand.

Later that night, when everyone was in bed asleep, Sharon quietly climbed out of bed and headed to her sewing room. This was her private domain, she pulled out the luminescent thing she'd found in her son's jeans. The object felt heavier than before. She felt warm all over as if it exuded a certain heat. The glow took her, and she shivered and smiled. She felt good; maybe better than she had in years. Sharon knew exactly what she was supposed to do; she got up and moved with a purpose.

Entering the kitchen she turned the knobs on the gas stove and quickly walked over to a drawer where she methodically pulled out some matches. Exiting the back door, Sharon gingerly grabbed the lighting fluid for the new barbecue she had purchased her husband for his birthday last summer, she felt so good, just like walking on air.

She opened the bottle, stuffing in a piece of oily rag her husband had left laying next to the BBQ. Sharon entered and closed the back door behind her and headed through the house to the front door. She opened the front door humming an old Frank Sinatra tune lighting the rag at the same time. The rag lit with a POOF and her hand was slightly burned, she didn’t even notice,and tossed the package towards the kitchen. Closing the door softly, she walked down the steps and moved to the side walk and sat down feeling truly satisfied.

*
Sgt. Benson arrived on the scene and was shocked, the house was burnt to the ground and the woman in custody was the mother; she also seemed to be the arson. Sgt. Benson thought to herself, she had seen a lot of things in her career, but this one takes the cake.

While putting the woman in the squad car Sgt. Benson saw something shiny fall out of the woman’s pocket. She bent down and picked it up and thought the thing had an odd feel to it. She made a mental note not to enter it into the log or the woman’s personals pouch later, the others would never understand.

Sgt. Benson left the precinct with a smile on her face, she felt good, better than she had in years. Humming an old Frank Sinatra tune, she knew exactly where she was going and what she had to do.

"Start spreadin' the news, da da tada da."

Faster than thought

2006-10-22T03:39:00.000-07:00

The communicator felt cold in my grip as I realized the ship was lost. The escape pod was the only option left. The thing had to be stopped and the only way was using the self destruct mechanism.

She was mine as long as I can remember, and piloting her through vacum was an honor, losing her was almost more than I could bear, but it had to be done.

The thing that got on board was a monster; we had landed on a pale blue dot in a strange system with a bright yellow sun. I beamed in to take some core samples and was surprised by the pleasing alien atmosphere, blue skies and strange mountain ranges white tipped with a white crystalline material that looked beautiful and frightening.

I finished and sent the sample via halo to the ship with the details of the planet and took out the communicator, it changed to green and I waited for the particle shift when it came at me, a dark figure, low and fast, a blur of speed and agility.

The shift continued and I landed in dock with a slap, beaming always a bit painful but necessary.
I lost balance and let out a shrill sound I didn’t know I could make. The monster had shifted with the beam and it scurried with a loping grace at such a speed, then it was gone, moving freely in my ship!

I sent the alarm and ran as fast as I could to lock down and quarantine the area. The reading in the dock said no life forms, it had escaped.

My communicator was going off and Eaan was shrilling about the monster and I knew it was on the move. I headed for the globe, the ships cockpit, knowing Eaan would be switching the autosync on and must have sighted the beast there.

The globe was its usual blue soft hue and sadly empty. I heard the beast let out a sound behind me, Meow! I dove into the only escape pod and hit the charger, my existence flashing before my eyes! I prayed to Those Who Know, that the beast had not made it into the pod.

The nearest planet was large and red and coming up fast. I did a quick scan and the only life form in the pod was my own.

The pod settled on the big red planet and the distress signal slotted, they would come soon and retrieve me.

I pulled out the communicator and it blued with Eaan coming to screen, she was mumbling and I felt sad and pity for her. The self destruct would go soon and the beast would be destroyed. I would loose my beloved Eaan but the mission could continue and the beast would never hit our world.

Strange, the screen, Eaan and the beast looking ready to fight, it was small and multi coloured with oval eyes and two pointy ears, its form was softl and lithe with four appendages it used to move about. Behind it trailed a fifth appendage that swayed back and fourth.

Eaan moved to strike it down with one of her danglers, she seemed to be moving to slow, I heard its roar Meow! Her dangler was on it now strangely stroking it and the beast was letting out a sound like none I have ever heard before..puurrrrrr,….. Then the flash and the communicator went dead.

I sat for moment, the pod feeling small and I alone. The hue came on and it was command, they were on they’re way.

Saddened, I climbed into the Cryo-bin and hit the button, darkness and dreams.

First day

2006-10-22T03:15:00.000-07:00

Hi all, and thanks for visiting. This is the first day, and I hope to get this thing up and running so all of you who want to read what I am writing will have a one-stop location for all of my work, thoughts and more.

I hope you all enjoy this Blog and please give me any feedback or critic to make it better for you to enjoy.

So, here we go and enjoy.

Regards,

Funwriter