Eivor is a bit of a strange protagonist.
She’s basically flawless and without blame. She’s brash and bold, proud and unashamed — brave and wise far beyond her years, yet able to be soft and compassionate when not brandishing spears. She’s got a knack for leadership, a strong moral compass and an even stronger muscular system with which to enact justice.
And she’s got bars?
As someone not deeply versed in medieval European histories, imagine my shock and confusion upon discovering that Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla included rap battling.
My first experience with Flyting had me asking so many questions about what I just witnessed that I couldn’t wait to begin Googling. I figured flyting probably was historically accurate, but if that’s the case, then what else can it tells us about the medieval warrior and about Eivor’s characterization?
I set off to find out.
--
Wikipedia and howstuffworks combined gave me a robust definition of flyting.
A ritual, poetic exchange of insults practiced mainly between the 5th and 16th centuries. Examples of flyting are found throughout Scots, Ancient, Medieval and Modern Celtic, Old English, Middle English and Norse literature involving both historical and mythological figures. The exchanges would become extremely provocative, often involving accusations of cowardice or sexual perversion.
The idea behind flyting was to influence public opinion of the participants and raise both of their profiles. And each participant wanted to make himself look better than the other, even if they were friendly.
Not only that, but flyting’s also the first recorded use of shit as an insult. That right there is worth this whole essay and then some.
--
I came away from those definitions with some small Euphoria, as they reinforce what I already expected from Ubisoft — historically accurate and (arguably) immersive side activities grounded in realism.
Unfortunately, none of the flyting foes that Eivor faces in this fantasy are founded in any real-world flyters. I was particularly frustrated when I realized Fergal the Faceless and Borghild the Alewife’s Bane were fictional features, not real historical fiends of rhythm and rhyme.
Two of Eivor’s syntax competitors are “real” in some sense, however.
In Norse mythos, Odin, Thor, Loki, Freyja and more would handle their Family Matters over a flyte from time to time, dueling wits and words as competition and entertainment.
In fact, one flyte we do see in game — Odin as he flytes over the river with Thor in the Asgard Arc — is likely a reference to a real medieval Norse poem; The Hárbarðsljóð.
In it, Thor jaunts back to Asgard after a journey in Jötunheim. He comes to a junction in which he must jump a large river, and thus hunts down a ferryman to shepherd him across. The ferryman, Hárbarðr, is Odin in disguise. He then begins to diss guys.
Ahem. ‘Guys’ being Thor, obviously.
First, Odin drops a yo-mama joke:

Of thy morning feats art thou proud, but the future thou knowest not wholly; Doleful thine home-coming is: thy mother, me thinks, is dead.

He keeps going, taking more shots than a First Person Shooter, this time saying Thor dresses like a girl:

Three good dwellings methinks, thou hast not; Barefoot thou standest and wearest a beggar’s dress; Not even hose dost thou have.

Thor says watch your mouth before I clap back:

Ill for thee comes thy keenness of tongue, if the water I choose to wade; Louder, I ween, than a wolf thou cryest, if a blow of my hammer thou hast.

Odin replies by saying Thor’s wife is fucking another dude:

Sif has a lover at home, and him shouldst thou meet; More fitting it were on him to put forth thy strength.

The version we play out in game isn’t identical to the real-world poem, but carries some similarities; Thor’s threatening to cross the river to fight Odin as well as his boasting of slaying giants are present in each.
Ratatosk is the only other ‘real’ flyting enemy in Valhalla. While Odin doesn’t flyte with Ratatosk in Norse myth to my knowledge, the flyting against the squirrel is thematically accurate, at least.
Ratatosk’s purpose is to scramble up and down Yggdrasil, scurrying spoken messages from the eagle that sits at its peaks to the snake that slithers at its base. The nature of Ratatosk’s messages is in line with the act of flyting — the mischievous rodent carries falsehoods and aggressive statements to stir up drama and distrust between bird and serpent.
Flyting took place not only in poems and folklore, but in town squares and royal court. It was a facet of medieval life and social interaction. This weaving of prose then, in this time period, seemingly was just about as much of an admired skill as the swinging of a sword. It’s no wonder our unbreakable warrior Eivor is so proficient with word.
--
Like, really proficient with word.
I mean, I know it’s me choosing the dialogue options, but sheesh, is there anything she can’t do?
Actually, Eivor’s expertise in flyting is strange to me. It feels random and unearned — out of character, even. It comes more unexpectedly than Kendrick Lamar’s Not Like Us.
It probably only feels out of character, however, due to our modern understanding of proficiency with words versus proficiency with might. Our current interpretation of verbal ability compared to physical ability would perceive verbal ability as the ‘softer’ of the two skillsets. Physical strength is typically interpreted as tough and more dominant. You don’t expect to see an MMA fighter composing poetry, do you? The qualities that modern thought attributes to writing and physicality don’t mesh.
But in reality — and historically accurately in Valhalla — medieval warriors weren’t just blind berserkers. They were actually artists, poets and writers.
We’ve already demonstrated how Odin and Thor — Norse myth’s most famous warriors — carried out flyting. Thus, medieval Vikings would’ve surely done the same. Beyond Vikings though, the Illiad contains instances of public, ritualized abuse. Taunting songs are present in Inuit culture while Arabic poetry contains a form of flyting called naqa’id. Further, Japanese Samurai were known to be frequent composers of haiku, while Japanese culture also gave birth to Haikai, poetry in which vulgar satire and puns were wielded.
This historical accuracy ends up eliminating the randomness of Eivor’s flyting ability. Despite her verbal finesse feeling unearned, we can surmise historically that Eivor has practiced the wielding of words plenty in her life before we take over as the player. She’s dedicated time to this.
Now that we know why she has it, we can take a closer look at what it does for her.
--
So, Eivor can rap. She can match you with her axe or she can match you with her words. She’s just about unbeatable.
Her mastery of words demonstrates on some level that she’s not all Push Ups and might is right. She’s not all bruiser and bluster, burn and berserk. She’s an appreciator of the finer things — the more abstract, mental skills that require brain power, deftness and finesse.
This duality of strength and genius rounds out Eivor into a deeper, richer, more admirable character. More than just raw muscle in pursuit of glory, Eivor’s mastery of verse demonstrates her prioritizing not just her body, but her mind.
And it goes a long way for her.
Eivor can use her prowess with prose to progress past pointless plot points throughout Valhalla’s plethora of arcs and missions. It’s just a stat check in the end, but with enough practice flyting and enough charisma gained, Eivor unlocks new dialogue options that bend the world around her to her will.
Witch hunters in Eurvicscire on the brink of terrorizing Moira can be dispersed verbally rather than brawled or killed. There’s an entire riddle-solving fetch quest in Wincestre that can be skipped completely by telling King Aelfred’s abbot fuck off (figuratively). Eivor’s sharpening of her mind protects her body, saves her time, and allows her to frictionlessly fell her endeavors.
Her articulate advances don’t just alter her into admirability, they allow her to influence people and progression. With semantics from her mouth and twists from her tongue, Eivor can have her way whenever she wishes. In a game this large, I’m only left longing that the opportunity to make use of this charisma wasn’t relegated to niches.
Regardless, if medieval England is butter, Eivor’s tongue is the hot knife that behooves her move through her subduing more smoothly.
It all just goes to show that ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ flyte is right.

In this edition of “Odd Titanica”, we are going to dive into the sleazy, opportunistic world of show business. A world that comedian Fred Allen said of, “you can take all the sincerity in Hollywood, place it in the navel of a fruit fly, and still have room for three caraway seeds and a producer’s heart”. Hyperbolic? Let’s take a look at Hollywood’s response to the Titanic disaster to see that there really is no business like show business.
Dorothy Gibson and the lost, first, film are well worn trivia by now. The traumatized actress rushed into production, her inability to process her trauma causing her mental breakdown, collapse, and retirement from acting immediately after the film was finished - it’s a perfect story to demonstrate the callousness of the film industry. But there is more to the story, and digging deeper shows us that “Saved” may have been the least sleazy project undertaken by the studios.
Dorothy’s account of the sinking and the suffering she endured filming “Saved from the Titanic” are predominantly found in two sources - The New York Dramatic Mirror and Moving Picture World. These were trade magazines, published weekly, and consisting solely of material related to the stage and screen business. These would be announcements of upcoming features, casting news, celebrity gossip, technical news - anything the movie star to the man sweeping the floor at the cinema needed to know. And they included ads … lots and lots of ads.
Immediately realizing that Titanic was not only a horrible tragedy but an incredible business opportunity, Moving Picture World got to work. As people stormed White Star Line offices, and raided newspaper carts for any drop of news regarding the sinking, Moving Picture World provided the latest in Titanic news; or perhaps we should say “Titanic” news.
The headlines of the April 27th issue may have screamed TITANIC, but as the public grabbed their copy and hurriedly flipped through the pages, they found that what they were actually given was ads. Those eye grabbing headlines were followed by much smaller print-
TITANIC EFFORTS... are being exerted by Champion to put before the exhibitors that will make them regular Champ Patrons! Get the following latest [releases] and you’ll be convinced!.
UNSINKABLE … is the reputation of Rep productions, but these two releases will sink into the minds of everyone who sees them and will remain there as worthy object lessons.
THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN …suggested by the poem of Elizabeth Barret Browning in 2 reels this Tuesday!
THE GREATEST MOTION PICTURE OF NATIONAL INTEREST - THE SINKING OF…. the big battleship. Remember the Maine!
THE DEATH SHIP...a sensational two reel drama of the sea containing one of the most thrilling dynamite explosions imaginable!
For all the slimy marketing tricks, flipping through the pages still has plenty of legitimate ads for real Titanic newsreels, movies, and a specific type of presentation known a Myriorama involving painting, music, and recitation. But, show business would strike again - the ads were legitimate, but what they were advertising was not. History has sort of forgotten the huge demand for Titanic media in the wake of the sinking, something that didn’t really exist. When cinema owners would order these “only surviving genuine negatives of the disaster” complete with lobby display package, they instead received-

our astonishment to find the Lusitania and Olympic, and one or two scratch films of ancient days posing as pictures of Titanic.

But they didn’t stop. Animated Weekly advertised that they were “the first to reach the wreck… chartered a tug from Cape Breton and rushed to the scene while the survivors were still in the water”. Cinemas began to promote footage of the sinking. Audiences wrote their disgust to Moving Picture World-

These representations are to the point of criminality … Take, for instance, the picture showing the Titanic with about a sixth of her forward length stuck into the iceberg. Everybody knows the collision did not occur in that manner!

They pointed to the following ad as an example - FIRST PICTURES OF THE TITANIC OCEAN DISASTER. The cinema owners responded by noting that they had misread, crammed in tiny letters were the words “sunk in” so that ad actually read FIRST PICTURES OF THE TITANIC sunk in OCEAN DISASTER. It was the customer's fault, they said, to be stupid enough to think anyone could have actually filmed the sinking.
Once this ruse was discovered, the studios shifted gears. The next step was to advertise film along with presentations by “A Lecturer who was on board”. When the audience realized the lecturer was not on Titanic and demanded a refund - the response from the managers was

Those signs didn’t say he was a survivor.

… and any attempt to charge him with the crime of fraud was absurd because, in his own words-

Of course I didn’t give him his money back. The sign didn’t misrepresent anything. West was on the Titanic, the sign didn’t say when he was.

…which was true. The lecturer, Eugene West, had visited Titanic while she was under construction at Belfast.
As for the movies themselves?

We said we had pictures. If people were foolish enough to think we meant moving pictures, that was their fault.

This particular cheated audience member was told if he wanted his money back, to go on the street and sing for it. Whether it was this, or something else, eventually the public snapped and began hauling out cinema managers and beating them in the streets. By May, the mayors of Boston and Memphis had banned the showing of any Titanic pictures - moving or still- within the city.
But, where was Dorothy in all this? Tucked in the very back of the magazine, after another newsreel ad,, we get to the celebrity sighting and gossip section. Ed Lux of the Rex Film Exchange was in town, Dan Markowitz of Fox Pictures was as well, Arthur Schmidt of the Victor Film Company was seen having a lovely spa at a Turkish Bath, Sam Gobel of the St Louis Motion Picture Company has been walking up and down 42nd street, we don’t know if Southern film maker Henry Wasserman is still here but he might be, Dorothy Gibson survived the sinking of the Titanic, and the Director of Selig Pictures took some actresses to Santa Catalina for a swim and a photoshoot and they had a great time.
By the following edition, on May 2nd, Moving Picture World was also able to provide its readers with the first stills from “Saved from the Titanic” and a feature on Dorothy. Along with this, tucked in the editorials, the magazine finally published a piece of truthful news about the Titanic disaster-

Senator William Alden Smith … declined to grant permission to have the cinematopgraph make a record of the sessions of the committee. “The sessions” he is quoted as saying…”are solemn affairs and must not be hippodromed or commercialized”. He is, however, falling into a serious error in judgement-

…they sniffed.

As a matter of right, the camera man ought to have been permitted. The day of the enfranchisement of the motion picture will surely come .. which will give equal rights to the cinematographer and the newspaper man.

Then, among the illegal false advertising and reports of public brawls at the cinema, they ended with-

The lesson of the Titanic disaster and all its incidents can be made far more impressive by pictures that move than by mere words in cold letters.

In this edition of “Odd Titanica”, we are going to dive into the sleazy, opportunistic world of show business. A world that comedian Fred Allen said of, “you can take all the sincerity in Hollywood, place it in the navel of a fruit fly, and still have room for three caraway seeds and a producer’s heart”. Hyperbolic? Let’s take a look at Hollywood’s response to the Titanic disaster to see that there really is no business like show business.
Dorothy Gibson and the lost, first, film are well worn trivia by now. The traumatized actress rushed into production, her inability to process her trauma causing her mental breakdown, collapse, and retirement from acting immediately after the film was finished - it’s a perfect story to demonstrate the callousness of the film industry. But there is more to the story, and digging deeper shows us that “Saved” may have been the least sleazy project undertaken by the studios.
Dorothy’s account of the sinking and the suffering she endured filming “Saved from the Titanic” are predominantly found in two sources - The New York Dramatic Mirror and Moving Picture World. These were trade magazines, published weekly, and consisting solely of material related to the stage and screen business. These would be announcements of upcoming features, casting news, celebrity gossip, technical news - anything the movie star to the man sweeping the floor at the cinema needed to know. And they included ads … lots and lots of ads.
Immediately realizing that Titanic was not only a horrible tragedy but an incredible business opportunity, Moving Picture World got to work. As people stormed White Star Line offices, and raided newspaper carts for any drop of news regarding the sinking, Moving Picture World provided the latest in Titanic news; or perhaps we should say “Titanic” news.
The headlines of the April 27th issue may have screamed TITANIC, but as the public grabbed their copy and hurriedly flipped through the pages, they found that what they were actually given was ads. Those eye grabbing headlines were followed by much smaller print-
TITANIC EFFORTS are being exerted by Champion to put before the exhibitors that will make them regular Champ Patrons! Get the following latest [releases] and you’ll be convinced!.
UNSINKABLE … is the reputation of Rep productions, but these two releases will sink into the minds of everyone who sees them and will remain there as worthy object lessons.
THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN …suggested by the poem of Elizabeth Barret Browning in 2 reels this Tuesday!
** THE GREATEST MOTION PICTURE OF NATIONAL INTEREST - THE SINKING OF**…. the big battleship. Remember the Maine!
THE DEATH SHIP...a sensational two reel drama of the sea containing one of the most thrilling dynamite explosions imaginable!
For all the slimy marketing tricks, flipping through the pages still has plenty of legitimate ads for real Titanic newsreels, movies, and a specific type of presentation known a Myriorama involving painting, music, and recitation. But, show business would strike again - the ads were legitimate, but what they were advertising was not.
History has sort of forgotten the huge demand for Titanic media in the wake of the sinking, something that didn’t really exist. When cinema owners would order these “only surviving genuine negatives of the disaster” complete with lobby display package, they instead received-

our astonishment to find the Lusitania and Olympic, and one or two scratch films of ancient days posing as pictures of Titanic.

But they didn’t stop. Animated Weekly advertised that they were “the first to reach the wreck… chartered a tug from Cape Breton and rushed to the scene while the survivors were still in the water”. Cinemas began to promote footage of the sinking. Audiences wrote their disgust to Moving Picture World-

These representations are to the point of criminality … Take, for instance, the picture showing the Titanic with about a sixth of her forward length stuck into the iceberg. Everybody knows the collision did not occur in that manner!

They pointed to the following ad as an example - FIRST PICTURES OF THE TITANIC OCEAN DISASTER. The cinema owners responded by noting that they had misread, crammed in tiny letters were the words “sunk in” so that ad actually read FIRST PICTURES OF THE TITANIC sunk in OCEAN DISASTER. It was the customers fault, they said, to be stupid enough to think anyone could have actually filmed the sinking.
Once this ruse was discovered, the studios shifted gears. The next step was to advertise film along with presentations by “A Lecturer who was on board”. When the audience realized the lecturer was not on Titanic and demanded a refund - the response from the managers was

Those signs didn’t say he was a survivor.

… and any attempt to charge him with the crime of fraud was absurd because, in his own words-

Of course I didn’t give him his money back. The sign didn’t misrepresent anything. West was on the Titanic, the sign didn’t say when he was.

…which was true. The lecturer, Eugene West, had visited Titanic while she was under construction at Belfast.
As for the movies themselves?

We said we had pictures. If people were foolish enough to think we meant moving pictures, that was their fault.

This particular cheated audience member was told if he wanted his money back, to go on the street and sing for it. Whether it was this, or something else, eventually the public snapped and began hauling out cinema managers and beating them in the streets. By May, the mayors of Boston and Memphis had banned the showing of any Titanic pictures - moving or still- within the city.
But, where was Dorothy in all this? Tucked in the very back of the magazine, after another newsreel ad,, we get to the celebrity sighting and gossip section. Ed Lux of the Rex Film Exchange was in town, Dan Markowitz of Fox Pictures was as well, Arthur Schmidt of the Victor Film Company was seen having a lovely spa at a Turkish Bath, Sam Gobel of the St Louis Motion Picture Company has been walking up and down 42nd street, we don’t know if Southern film maker Henry Wasserman is still here but he might be, Dorothy Gibson survived the sinking of the Titanic, and the Director of Selig Pictures took some actresses to Santa Catalina for a swim and a photoshoot and they had a great time.
By the following edition, on May 2nd, Moving Picture World was also able to provide its readers with the first stills from “Saved from the Titanic” and a feature on Dorothy. Along with this, tucked in the editorials, the magazine finally published a piece of truthful news about the Titanic disaster-

Senator William Alden Smith … declined to grant permission to have the cinematopgraph make a record of the sessions of the committee. “The sessions” he is quoted as saying…”are solemn affairs and must not be hippodromed or commercialized”. He is, however, falling into a serious error in judgement-

…they sniffed.

As a matter of right, the camera man ought to have been permitted. The day of the enfranchisement of the motion picture will surely come .. which will give equal rights to the cinematographer and the newspaper man.

Then, among the illegal false advertising and reports of public brawls at the cinema, they ended with-

The lesson of the Titanic disaster and all its incidents can be made far more impressive by pictures that move than by mere words in cold letters.

Week 3: Limericks and the Art of Humor
Day 1: Decoding Limericks - Activity: Analyze classic limericks for rhythm and humor. - Lecture: Discuss the AABBA rhyme scheme and distinctive rhythm. - Discussion: Share favorite humorous poems and discuss elements that make them funny.
Day 2: Crafting Limericks with Wit - Activity: Write limericks individually, focusing on humor and rhythm. - Lecture: Explore the balance of humor and structure in limericks. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.
Day 3: Understanding Free Verse - Activity: Analyze free verse poems for structure and expression. - Lecture: Introduce the concept of free verse and its flexibility. - Discussion: Discuss the liberation and challenges of writing without a strict structure.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Expressing Emotions in Free Verse - Activity: Explore emotions and write a free verse poem. - Assignment: Craft a free verse poem exploring a personal experience or emotion. - Vocabulary Words: Enjambment, Cadence, Anapest.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for free verse poems. - Lecture: Discuss the artistic freedom and impact of free verse. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' free verse poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 3: 1. What defines a limerick, and how does its rhythm contribute to its humor? 2. Discuss the importance of the AABBA rhyme scheme in limericks. 3. How does free verse differ from structured forms of poetry? 4. Explore the challenges and benefits of writing without a strict form in free verse. 5. Reflect on the emotions and experiences expressed in your free verse poem.
Quiz: Assessment on limericks, the AABBA rhyme scheme, and the principles of free verse.
Week 4: Free Verse and Acrostic Poetry
Day 1: Embracing Free Verse - Activity: Analyze diverse free verse poems for individual expression. - Lecture: Discuss famous free verse poets and their impact on the genre. - Discussion: Share personal reactions to the artistic freedom of free verse.
Day 2: Crafting Emotion in Free Verse - Activity: Write a free verse poem expressing a specific emotion. - Lecture: Explore the role of emotions in free verse and the use of vivid imagery. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual poems, highlighting emotional impact.
Day 3: Understanding Acrostic Poetry - Activity: Analyze acrostic poems for clever wordplay. - Lecture: Explain the concept of acrostic poetry and its various forms. - Discussion: Share examples of creative acrostic poems.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Personal Acrostic - Activity: Craft an acrostic poem using your name or a chosen word. - Assignment: Write an acrostic poem exploring a theme or concept. - Vocabulary Words: Strophe, Stanza, Consonance.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for acrostic poems. - Lecture: Discuss the playfulness and creativity of acrostic poetry. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' acrostic poems.
Study Guide Questions for Week 4: 1. Explore the role of emotions in free verse poetry. How does it differ from structured forms? 2. Discuss the impact of vivid imagery in free verse. How does it contribute to the overall message? 3. What defines acrostic poetry, and how is it different from other forms? 4. How can clever wordplay enhance the impact of an acrostic poem? 5. Reflect on the creative process and thematic exploration in your acrostic poem.
Quiz: Assessment on understanding free verse, emotional expression in poetry, and the principles of acrostic poetry.

abandon, ability, able, about, above, absence, absolute, absolutely, abstract, abundance, academy, accent, accept, access, accident, accompany, accomplish, according, account, accurate, achieve, achievement, acid, acknowledge, acquire, across, action, active, activity, actor, actual, actually, adapt, addition, additional, address, adequate, adjust, administration, admire, admission, admit, adolescent, adopt, adult, advance, advantage, adventure, advertise, advice, advise, adviser, advocate, affair, affect, afford, afraid, after, afternoon, again, against, age, agency, agenda, agent, aggressive, ago, agree, agreement, agriculture, ahead, aid, aim, air, aircraft, airline, airport, alarm, album, alcohol, alive, all, alliance, allow, ally, almost, alone, along, already, also, alter, alternative, although, always, amateur, amazing, ambition, ambulance, among, amount, analysis, analyst, analyze, ancient, and, anger, angle, angry, animal, anniversary, announce, annual, another, answer, anticipate, anxiety, any, anybody, anymore, anyone, anything, anyway, anywhere, apart, apartment, apologize, apparent, apparently, appeal, appear, appearance, apple, application, apply, appoint, appointment, appreciate, approach, appropriate, approval, approve, approximately, architect, area, argue, argument, arise, arm, armed, army, around, arrange, arrangement, arrest, arrival, arrive, art, article, artist, artistic, as, ashamed, aside, ask, asleep, aspect, assault, assert, assess, assessment, asset, assign, assignment, assist, assistance, assistant, associate, association, assume, assumption, assure, at, athlete, athletic, atmosphere, attach, attack, attempt, attend, attention, attitude, attorney, attract, attraction, attractive, attribute, audience, author, authority, auto, available, average, avoid, award, aware, awareness, away, awful, baby, back, background, bad, badly, bag, balance, ball, ban, band, bank, bar, barely, barrel, barrier, base, baseball, basic, basically, basis, basket, basketball, bath, bathroom, battery, battle, be, beach, bear, beat, beautiful, beauty, because, become, bed, bedroom, bee, beef, beer, before, begin, beginning, behavior, behind, being, belief, believe, bell, belong, below, belt, bench, bend, beneath, benefit, beside, besides, best, bet, better, between, beyond, bicycle, big, bike, bill, billion, bind, biological, bird, birth, birthday, bit, bite, black, blade, blame, blanket, blind, block, blood, blow, blue, board, boat, body, bomb, bombing, bond, bone, book, boom, boot, border, boring, born, borrow, boss, both, bother, bottle, bottom, boundary, bowl, box, boy, boyfriend, brain, branch, brand, brave, bread, break, breakfast, breast, breath, breathe, brick, bridge, brief, briefly, bright, brilliant, bring, broad, broken, brother, brown, brush, buck, budget, build, building, bullet, bunch, burden, burn, bury, bus, business, busy, but, butter, button, buy, buyer, by, cabin, cabinet, cable, cake, calculate, call, camera, camp, campaign, campus, can, Canadian, cancer, candidate, cap, capability, capable, capacity, capital, captain, capture, car, carbon, card, care, career, careful, carefully, carrier, carry, case, cash, cast, cat, catch, category, Catholic, cause, ceiling, celebrate, celebration, celebrity, cell, center, central, century, CEO, ceremony, certain, certainly, chain, chair, chairman, challenge, chamber, champion, championship, chance, change, changing, channel, chapter, character, characteristic, characterize, charge, charity, chart, chase, cheap, check, cheek, cheese, chef, chemical, chest, chicken, chief, child, childhood, Chinese, chip, chocolate, choice, cholesterol, choose, Christian, Christmas, church, cigarette, circle, circumstance, cite, citizen, city, civil, civilian, claim, class, classic, classroom, clean, clear, clearly, client, climate, climb, clinic, clinical, clock, close, closely, closer, clothes, clothing, cloud, club, clue, cluster, coach, coal, coalition, coast, coat, code, coffee, cognitive, cold, collapse, colleague, collect, collection, collective, college, colonial, color, column, combination, combine, come, comedy, comfort, comfortable, command, commander, comment, commercial, commission, commit, commitment, committee, common, communicate, communication, community, company, compare, comparison, compete, competition, competitive, competitor, complain, complaint, complete, completely, complex, complexity, compliance, complicate, complicated, component, compose, composition, comprehensive, computer, concentrate, concentration, concept, concern, concerned, concert, conclude, conclusion, concrete, condition, conduct, conference, confidence, confident, confirm, conflict, confront, confusion, Congress, congressional, connect, connection, consciousness, consensus, consequence, conservative, consider, considerable, consideration, consist, consistent, constant, constantly, constitute, constitutional, construct, construction, consultant, consume, consumer, consumption, contact, contain, container, contemporary, content, contest, context, continue, continued, contract, contrast, contribute, contribution, control, controversial, controversy, convention, conventional, conversation, convert, conviction, convince, cook, cookie, cooking, cool, cooperation, cop, cope, copy, core, corn, corner, corporate, corporation, correct, correspondent, cost, cotton, couch, could, council, count, counter, country, county, couple, courage, course, court, cousin, cover, coverage, cow, crack, craft, crash, crazy, cream, create, creation, creative, creature, credit, crew, crime, criminal, crisis, criteria, critic, critical, criticism, criticize, crop, cross, crowd, crucial, cry, cultural, culture, cup, curious, current, currently, curriculum, custom, customer, cut, cycle, dad, daily, damage, dance, danger, dangerous, dare, dark, darkness, data, database, date, daughter, day, dead, deal, dealer, dear, death, debate, debt, decade, decide, decision, deck, declare, decline, decrease, deep, deeply, deer, defeat, defend, defendant, defense, defensive, deficit, define, definitely, definition, degree, delay, deliver, delivery, demand, democracy, Democratic, Democrat, demonstrate, demonstration, deny, department, depend, dependent, depending, depict, depression, depth, deputy, derive, describe, description, desert, deserve, design, designer, desire, desk, desperate, despite, destroy, destruction, detail, detailed, detect, detection, detective, determine, develop, developing, development, device, devil, dialogue, diet, differ, difference, different, differently, difficult, difficulty, dig, digital, dimension, dining, dinner, direct, direction, directly, director, dirt, disability, disagree, disappear, disaster, discipline, disclose, discover, discovery, discrimination, discuss, discussion, disease, dish, dismiss, disorder, display, dispute, distance, distinct, distinction, distinguish, distribute, distribution, district, diverse, diversity, divide, division, divorce, DNA, do, doctor, document, dog, domestic, dominant, dominate, door, double, doubt, down, downtown, dozen, draft, drag, drama, dramatic, dramatically, draw, drawer, drawing, dream, dress, drink, drive, driver, drop, drug, dry, due, during, dust, duty, dwell, dying, dynamic, each, eager, ear, earlier, early, earn, earnings, earth, earthquake, ease, easily, east, eastern, easy, eat, economic, economy, edge, edit, edition, editor, educate, education, educational, educator, effect, effective, effectively, efficiency, efficient, effort, egg, eight, either, elderly, elect, election, electric, electrical, electricity, electronic, element, elementary, eliminate, elite, else, elsewhere, e-mail, embrace, emerge, emergency, emission, emotion, emotional, emphasis, emphasize, employ, employee, employer, employment, empty, enable, encounter, encourage, end, enemy, energy, enforcement, engage, engine, engineer, engineering, English, enhance, enjoy, enormous, enough, ensure, enter, enterprise, entertain, entertainment, entire, entirely, entrance, entry, environment, environmental, episode, equal, equally, equipment, equivalent, era, error, escape, especially, essay, essential, essentially, establish, establishment, estate, estimate, etc, ethics, ethnic, European, evaluate, evaluation, evening, event, eventually, ever, every, everybody, everyday, everyone, everything, everywhere, evidence, evolution, evolve, exact, exactly, exam, examination, examine, example, exceed, excellent, except, exception, exchange, exciting, executive, exercise, exhibit, exhibition, exist, existence, existing, expand, expansion, expect, expectation, expense, expensive, experience, experiment, expert, explain, explanation, explode, explore, explosion, expose, exposure, express, expression, extend, extension, extensive, extent, external, extra, extraordinary, extreme, extremely, eye, fabric, face, facility, fact, factor, factory, faculty, fade, fail, failure, fair, fairly, faith, fall, false, familiar, family, famous, fan, fantasy, far, farm, farmer, fashion, fast, fat, fate, father, fault, favor, favorite, fear, feature, federal, fee, feed, feel, feeling, fellow, female, fence, festival, few, fewer, fiber, fiction, field, fifteen, fifth, fifty, fight, fighter, fighting, figure, file, fill, film, final, finally, finance, financial, find, finding, fine, finger, finish, fire, firm, first, fish, fishing, fit, fitness, five, fix, flag, flame, flat, flavor, flee, flesh, flight, float, floor, flow, flower, fly, focus, folk, follow, following, food, foot, football, for, force, foreign, forest, forever, forget, form, formal, formation, former, formula, forth, fortune, forward, found, foundation, founder, four, fourth, frame, framework, free, freedom, freeze, French, frequency, frequent, frequently, fresh, friend, friendly, friendship, from, front, fruit, frustration, fuel, fulfill, full, fully, fun, function, fund, fundamental, funding, funeral, funny, furniture, furthermore, future, gain, galaxy, gallery, game, gang, gap, garage, garden, garlic, gas, gate, gather, gay, gaze, gear, gender, gene, general, generally, generate, generation, genetic, gentleman, gently, German, gesture, get, ghost, giant, gift, gifted, girl, girlfriend, give, given, glad, glance, glass, global, glove, go, goal, God, gold, golden, golf, good, govern, government, governor, grab, grace, grade, gradually, graduate, grain, grand, grandmother, grant, grass, grave, gray, great, green, grocery, ground, group, grow, growing, growth, guarantee, guard, guess, guest, guide, guideline, guilty, gun, guy, habit, habitat, hair, half, hall, hand, handful, handle, hang, happen, happy, harbor, hard, hardly, hat, hate, have, he, head, headline, headquarters, health, healthy, hear, hearing, heart, heat, heaven, heavily, heavy, heel, height, helicopter, hell, hello, help, helpful, hence, her, herb, here, heritage, hero, herself, hey, hi, hide, high, highlight, highly, highway, hill, him, himself, hip, hire, his, historic, historical, history, hit, hold, hole, holiday, holy, home, homeless, honest, honey, honor, hope, horizon, horror, horse, hospital, host, hot, hotel, hour, house, household, housing, how, however, huge, human, humor, hundred, hungry, hunter, hunting, hurt, husband, hypothesis, ice, idea, ideal, identification, identify, identity, ignore, ill, illegal, illness, illustrate, image, imagination, imagine, immediate, immediately, immigrant, immigration, impact, implement, implication, imply, importance, important, impose, impossible, impress, impression, impressive, improve, improvement, incentive, incident, include, including, income, incorporate, increase, increased, increasingly, incredible, indeed, independence, independent, index, indicate, indication, individual, industrial, industry, infant, infection, inflation, influence, inform, information, ingredient, initial, initially, initiative, injury, inner, innocent, inquiry, inside, insight, insist, inspire, install, instance, instead, institute, institution, institutional, instruction, instructor, instrument, insurance, intellectual, intelligence, intend, intense, intensity, intention, interaction, interest, interested, interesting, internal, international, Internet, interpret, interpretation, intervention, interview, introduce, introduction, invasion, invest, investigation, investigator, investment, investor, invite, involve, involved, involvement, Iraqi, Irish, iron, Islamic, island, Israeli, issue, it, Italian, item, its, itself, jacket, jail, Japanese, jet, Jew, Jewish, job, join, joint, joke, journal, journalist, journey, joy, judge, judgment, juice, jump, junior, jury, just, justice, justify, keep, key, kick, kid, kill, killer, killing, kind, king, kiss, kitchen, knee, knife, knock, know, knowledge, lab, label, labor, laboratory, lack, lady, lake, land, landscape, language, lap, large, largely, last, late, later, Latin, latter, laugh, launch, law, lawsuit, lawyer, lay, layer, lead, leader, leadership, leading, leaf, league, lean, learn, learning, least, leather, leave, left, leg, legacy, legal, legend, legislation, legislative, legislator, legitimate, lemon, length, less, lesson, let, letter, level, liberal, library, license, lie, life, lifestyle, lifetime, lift, light, like, likely, limit, limitation, limited, line, link, lip, list, listen, literary, literature, little, live, living, load, loan, local, locate, location, lock, long, long-term, look, loose, lose, loss, lost, lot, lots, loud, love, lovely, lover, low, lower, luck, lucky, lunch, luxury, machine, mad, magazine, mail, main, mainly, maintain, maintenance, major, majority, make, maker, makeup, male, mall, man, manage, management, manager, manner, manufacturer, manufacturing, many, map, margin, mark, market, marketing, marriage, married, marry, mask, mass, massive, master, match, material, math, matter, may, maybe, mayor, me, meal, mean, meaning, meanwhile, measure, measurement, meat, mechanism, media, medical, medication, medicine, medium, meet, meeting, member, membership, memory, mental, mention, menu, mere, merely, mess, message, metal, meter, method, Mexican, middle, might, military, milk, million, mind, mine, minister, minor, minority, minute, miracle, mirror, miss, missile, mission, mistake, mix, mixture, mm-hmm, mode, model, moderate, modern, modest, mom, moment, money, monitor, month, mood, moon, moral, more, moreover, morning, mortgage, most, mostly, mother, motion, motivation, motor, mountain, mouse, mouth, move, movement, movie, Mr, Mrs, Ms, much, multiple, murder, muscle, museum, music, musical, musician, Muslim, must, mutual, my, myself, mystery, myth, naked, name, narrative, narrow, nation, national, native, natural, naturally, nature, near, nearby, nearly, necessarily, necessary, neck, need, negative, negotiate, negotiation, neighbor, neighborhood, neither, nerve, nervous, net, network, never, nevertheless, new, newly, news, newspaper, next, nice, night, nine, no, nobody, nod, noise, nomination, nominee, none, nonetheless, nor, normal, normally, north, northern, nose, not, note, nothing, notice, notion, novel, now, nowhere, nuclear, number, numerous, nurse, nut, object, objective, obligation, observation, observe, observer, obtain, obvious, obviously, occasion, occasionally, occupation, occupy, occur, ocean, odd, odds, of, off, offense, offensive, offer, office, officer, official, often, oh, oil, okay, old, Olympic, on, once, one, ongoing, onion, online, only, onto, open, opening, operate, operating, operation, operator, opinion, opponent, opportunity, oppose, opposed, opposite, opposition, option, or, orange, order, ordinary, organic, organization, organize, orientation, origin, original, originally, other, others, otherwise, ought, our, ours, ourselves, out, outcome, outside, oven, over, overall, overcome, overlook, owe, own, owner, pace, pack, package, page, pain, painful, paint, painter, painting, pair, pale, Palestinian, palm, pan, panel, panic, pant, paper, paragraph, parent, park, parking, part, participant, participate, participation, particle, particular, particularly, partly, partner, partnership, party, pass, passage, passenger, passion, past, patch, path, patient, pattern, pause, pay, payment, PC, peace, peak, peer, pen, penalty, people, pepper, per, perceive, percentage, perception, perfect, perfectly, perform, performance, perhaps, period, permanent, permission, permit, person, personal, personality, personally, personnel, perspective, persuade, pet, phase, phenomenon, philosophy, phone, photo, photographer, phrase, physical, physically, physician, piano, pick, picture, pie, piece, pile, pilot, pine, pink, pipe, pitch, place, plan, plane, planet, planning, plant, plastic, plate, platform, play, player, please, pleasure, plenty, plot, plus, PM, pocket, poem, poet, poetry, point, police, policy, political, politically, politician, politics, poll, pollution, pool, poor, pop, popular, population, porch, port, portion, portrait, portray, pose, position, positive, possess, possession, possibility, possible, possibly, post, pot, potato, potential, potentially, pound, pour, poverty, powder, power, powerful, practical, practice, prayer, preach, precisely, predict, prediction, prefer, preference, pregnancy, pregnant, preparation, prepare, prescription, presence, present, presentation, preserve, president, presidential, press, pressure, pretend, pretty, prevent, previous, previously, price, pride, priest, primarily, primary, prime, principal, principle, print, prior, priority, prison, prisoner, privacy, private, probably, problem, procedure, proceed, process, processing, processor, proclaim, produce, producer, product, production, profession, professional, professor, profile, profit, program, progress, progressive, project, prominent, promise, promote, prompt, proof, proper, properly, property, proportion, proposal, propose, prosecutor, prospect, protect, protection, protein, protest, proud, prove, provide, provider, province, provision, psychological, psychology, public, publication, publicity, publish, publisher, pull, punishment, purchase, pure, purpose, pursue, push, put, qualify, quality, quarter, quarterback, quarterly, queen, quest, question, quick, quickly, quiet, quietly, quit, quite, quote, race, racial, radiation, radical, radio, rail, rain, raise, range, rank, rapid, rapidly, rare, rarely, rate, rather, rating, ratio, raw, reach, react, reaction, reader, reading, ready, real, reality, realize, really, reason, reasonable, recall, receive, recent, recently, reception, recipe, recipient, recognition, recognize, recommend, recommendation, record, recording, recover, recovery, recruit, red, reduce, reduction, refer, reference, reflect, reflection, reform, refugee, refuse, regard, regarding, regardless, regime, region, regional, register, regular, regularly, regulate, regulation, regulator, reinforce, reject, relate, relation, relationship, relative, relatively, relax, release, relevant, relief, religion, religious, rely, remain, remaining, remarkable, remember, remind, remote, remove, repeat, repeatedly, replace, replacement, reply, report, reporter, represent, representation, representative, Republican, reputation, request, require, requirement, research, researcher, resemble, reservation, resident, residential, resign, resist, resistance, resolution, resolve, resort, resource, respect, respond, response, responsibility, responsible, rest, restaurant, restore, restriction, result, retain, retire, retirement, return, reveal, revenue, review, revolution, rhythm, rice, rich, rid, ride, rifle, right, ring, rise, risk, river, road, rock, role, roll, romantic, roof, room, root, rope, rose, rough, roughly, round, route, routine, row, rub, rubber, rude, ruin, rule, run, running, rural, rush, Russian, sacred, sad, safe, safety, sake, salad, salary, sale, sales, salt, same, sample, sanction, sand, satellite, satisfaction, satisfied, satisfy, sauce, save, saving, say, scale, scandal, scare, scatter, scenario, scene, schedule, scheme, scholar, scholarship, school, science, scientific, scientist, scope, score, scream, screen, script, sea, search, season, seat, second, secondary, secret, secretary, section, sector, secure, security, see, seed, seek, seem, segment, seize, select, selection, self, sell, Senate, senator, send, senior, sense, sensitive, sentence, separate, sequence, series, serious, seriously, servant, serve, service, session, set, setting, settle, settlement, seven, several, severe, sex, sexual, shade, shadow, shake, shall, shallow, shape, share, sharp, she, sheet, shelf, shell, shelter, shift, shine, ship, shirt, shock, shoe, shoot, shooting, shop, shopping, short, shortly, shot, should, shoulder, shout, show, shower, shrug, shut, shy, sibling, sick, side, sigh, sight, sign, signal, significant, significantly, silence, silent, silver, similar, similarly, simple, simply, sin, since, sing, singer, single, sink, sir, sister, sit, site, situation, six, size, ski, skill, skin, skirt, sky, slave, sleep, slice, slide, slight, slightly, slip, slow, slowly, small, smart, smell, smile, smoke, smooth, snap, snow, so, so-called, soccer, social, society, soft, software, soil, solar, soldier, sole, solid, solution, solve, some, somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometimes, somewhat, somewhere, son, song, soon, sophisticated, sorry, sort, soul, sound, soup, source, south, southern, Soviet, space, Spanish, speak, speaker, special, specialist, species, specific, specifically, specify, speech, speed, spend, spending, spin, spirit, spiritual, split, spoil, sponsor, sport, spot, spray, spread, spring, square, squeeze, stability, stable, staff, stage, stain, stair, stake, stand, standard, standing, star, stare, start, state, statement, station, statistical, status, stay, steady, steal, steel, steep, stem, step, stick, still, stimulate, stimulus, stir, stock, stomach, stone, stop, storage, store, storm, story, straight, strange, stranger, strategic, strategy, stream, street, strength, strengthen, stress, stretch, strike, string, strip, stroke, strong, strongly, structural, structure, struggle, student, studio, study, stuff, stupid, style, subject, submit, subsequent, substance, substantial, substitute, succeed, success, successful, successfully, such, sudden, suddenly, sue, suffer, sufficient, sugar, suggest, suggestion, suicide, suit, summer, summit, sun, super, supply, support, supporter, suppose, supposed, Supreme, sure, surely, surface, surgery, surprise, surprised, surprising, surprisingly, surround, survey, survival, survive, survivor, suspect, sustain, swear, sweep, sweet, swim, swing, switch, symbol, symptom, system, table, tactic, tail, take, tale, talent, talk, tall, tank, tap, tape, target, task, taste, tax, taxi, tea, teach, teacher, teaching, team, tear, technical, technique, technology, teen, teenager, telephone, telescope, television, tell, temperature, temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, trick, trip, troop, trouble, truck, true, truly, trust, truth, try, tube, tunnel, turn, TV, twelve, twenty, twice, twin, two, type, typical, typically, ugly, ultimate, ultimately, unable, uncle, undergo, understand, understanding, unfortunately, uniform, union, unique, unit, United, universal, universe, university, unknown, unless, unlike, until, unusual, up, upon, upper, urban, urge, us, use, used, useful, user, usual, usually, utility, utilize, vacation, valley, valuable, value, variable, variation, variety, various, vary, vast, vegetable, vehicle, venture, version, versus, very, vessel, veteran, via, victim, victory, video, view, viewer, village, violate, violation, violence, violent, virtually, virtue, virus, visibility, visible, vision, visit, visitor, visual, vital, voice, volume, voluntary, volunteer, vote, voter, voting, wage, wait, wake, walk, wall, wander, want, war, warm, warn, warning, wash, waste, watch, water, wave, way, we, weak, weakness, wealth, wealthy, weapon, wear, weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

The flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye we lose the world
And still we return from the void
The experience like a fever of flesh and hair
There's no more past to speak of
There is only now and next
I did all I could to tell the truth
I told every lie on earth
I believed you, every time,
And I thought that all of it
Was in my mind, I didn't
Believe that I would tell myself the truth.
That it could be me to hold and heal you.
I must not be
And it need not be.
Slush or ice or boil or steam
I want to make it as water for us
My heart bursts all on it's own imagination
You don't have to tell me what to do
Or what you want
You don't have to tell me anything
But if I'm still on your mind then tell me
Why do we come back?
I'm chased off, I am little, I am avoidant,
My library contains mostly fiction and paperbacks
It lacks classics and class and god
Thats something you have
It's tired but it's true:
I want what's best for you, even without me
And I never wanted to be without you
But I prefer to see you breathe easy and true
No more broken wings blackbird, be whole
Must I say goodbye? Maybe in french
But I don't know what that really means
A mess of thoughts and papers to slip on
Dork holds all his books to his chest
Like he forgot his bag or
Is in a hurry or
Can't share these poems
How water serenely holds aloft
In a paper lantern above
Never to meet the flame
But in the rippled reflections

Humans are Weird – Storm Watching

Original Post: http://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-storm-watching
“Why did we even bother building a base on the land anyway?” Rollsaround asked as he absorbed the dim light filtering through the wide windows of the base.
The windows gave an impressive view of what the humans in their generosity called a “coastline”. Instead of gently undulating coral beds easing down into the water the glittering volcanic rock dropped abruptly from the graminoid covered highlands and dove down dozens of meters to where it usually met the heaving surface of the water below. Today however the water had seemingly decided to express its objections to the separation and was attempting to scale the cliffs in massive waves. The base vibrated from the force of a gust of wind and Rollsaround hunkered deeper into his mineral bath.
“Do you require another introduction of thermal-loaded water?” Tenth Cousin asked from where she perched on a Shatar couch, reading something that was supposed to be very masculine poetry from her homeworld.
“I do not,” Rollsaround reassured her. “I was just reacting negatively to the storm.”
She tilted her head to examine the weather conditions with a thoughtful set to her antenna.
“I think it is a pleasant change,” she said. “The harsh, unfiltered lights of the suns here means that we have no real night. The clouds at lest allow the illusions of dusk, and the wind overhead is not entirely unlike breezes in Father’s canopy if you can focus your attention on some pleasant task.”
“Well if we can’t go outside during clear weather without protection due to the radiation,” Rollsaround grumbled, “and we can’t go outside in stormy weather due to the, well, the storm, I say we should have just built a floating base that we could submerge during storm weather.”
“There is perhaps logic in that,” Tenth cousin agreed, and very deliberately tilted her head back to the poetry.
Rollsaround drooped his leading appendages over the edge of the bowl and absorbed the storm light in a slightly sulky mood. The airlock cycled open and Third Sister stepped in with the brisk stride that Rollsaround had noticed that high ranking sisters only used when they were looking for someone who had committed some infraction. Tenth Cousin brought the poem up closer to her face and started moving her mandibles as if she was completely focused on sounding out the words. Third Sister tilted her head the examine the cousin and then abruptly swiveled her body to focus on Rollsaround.
“First Ecologist,” she began, “do you know First Mechanic’s current location? The exterior vents in my lab require percussive maintenance.”
“He is off shift by now,” Rollsaround said. “You should check the washrooms and his quarters.”
However even as he offered this sound advice Rollsaround felt a ripple of unease. Human Friend Conner almost never went to his quarters after his shift. He was highly social, even by human standards and usually came to the main room to chat first thing.
“I have already checked both of those locations,” Third Sister stated. “He is not there and he is not answering his comm.”
Rollsaround mulled over that. Clearly Third Sister needed to find the human. An improperly vented laboratory in such a base as theirs was a serious health risk.
“Have you checked the storage areas?” he asked.
“I did a ping for his comm,” she replied, “but it is not reading as in the base at all so I could not locate the room he was in. I was surprised as I didn’t think we had any shielding strong enough to block the comm signal in the base-”
She cut off as Rollsaround suddenly surged up out of his mineral bath and crawled out of it.
“What is the matter First Ecologist?” Third Sister asked in confusion.
“He has gone out for a walk,” Rollsaround said, forgetting in his rush to add emotional undertones to his words.
“Out?” Third Sister demanded, her antenna going lax with confusion.
“Out to watch the storm from withing the wind currents,” Rollsaround explained.
“How do you gather that?” Third Sister demanded.
“He has described storm watching on his homeworld to me,” Rollsaround explained as he opened the hatch to the sub floor currents. “He also mentioned what he thought the perfect storm watching spot would be on these cliffs. That spot is behind enough rocks to block the signal. Now if you will excuse me I am going to go fetch him.”
“He has broken regulations!” Third Sister clicked, her frill flashing red with alarm.
“That on a secondary vine,” Tenth Cousin interjected as she came up to them. “The same regulations apply to you First Ecologist! The wind-”
“I am rated as fully wind resistant under these conditions,” Rollsaround said with a dismissive wave, “one of the perks of not being built like a windmill.”
“Your thermal mass-” Tenth Cousin tried again.
“I am fully warmed at the moment and I will turn back if my core temperature drops too low,” he interjected again. “Now if there are no further objections?”
Without waiting for their objections he dropped down into the sub-floor current and tapped the control panel to direct the current to the main outlet. He bundled his appendages and let himself be swept into the cold, but fresh exterior water. He bumped up against the smooth rise of the outlet and edged up out of the water. The wind was powerful. He could feel it tug at him if he raised a gripping appendage high, but at least over the main path there were eddies along the ground that were so comparatively we that he couldn’t even feel them. He began shuffling at top speed along the path. A the crest of the first high spot the winds did hit him, shoving his body sideways. However, as he had expected it required barely a fraction of his strength to grip the path firmly with his set appendages as he moved the free appendages forward. It barely even slowed him down, the roar of it was rather disconcerting when it wasn’t muted by the base walls however. He did wonder how the human had made it this far. After a long steady shuffle he rounded the corner that was blocking the signal and spotted a tall figure down at the cliff’s edge that wasn’t normally there.
Rollsaround activated the comm he was holding pressed against the ground. There was a significant delay before the human responded.
“Human Friend Conner,” Rollsaround said, trying to put firmness in his tones. “Come now and carry me back to the base. I am at the crest of the hill looking down at you.”
There was an odd sound from the comm that suggested the human was trying to say something back, but human speaking organs were not optimized for shielding the microphone of a comm while speaking so the human simply gave two short radio bursts and the tall figure on the cliff’s edge began swaying back and forth as it moved towards the path. Rollsaround anchored himself more fully against the blasts and watched in grim interest as the gusts blew the tall human form to one side and then the other as the human struggled up the path.
When Human Friend Conner finally did reach him the human didn’t bother speaking. He just reached down with a grin and tried to lift the Undulate off of the path. For one long moment Rollsaround hung on to the ground in a show of strength. He wasn’t sure if it would impress the human but a little dominance display did seem called for. He let go when the look of perplexity fully formed on the humans face but before he could give a more powerful tug and they headed back to the base.
Being carried over a meter above the ground in this wind was another experience altogether. The swaying of the human in the wind felt far wilder than it had looked, and Rollsaround found himself clutching tightly to the human’s coat as the wind tried to rip him away. They finally made the base airlock and stepped through to the blessedly still air. Rollsaround dropped to the floor and shook the cold water off of himself.
“I think Third Sister would like a word with you,” he said.
Granted she would probably want a word with him too, but Human Friend Conner didn’t need to know that.

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

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https://preview.redd.it/292890cl190d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=80452218955753005afd72dfd6f5c56b3cf0c658

Humans are Weird – Storm Watching

Original Post: http://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-storm-watching
“Why did we even bother building a base on the land anyway?” Rollsaround asked as he absorbed the dim light filtering through the wide windows of the base.
The windows gave an impressive view of what the humans in their generosity called a “coastline”. Instead of gently undulating coral beds easing down into the water the glittering volcanic rock dropped abruptly from the graminoid covered highlands and dove down dozens of meters to where it usually met the heaving surface of the water below. Today however the water had seemingly decided to express its objections to the separation and was attempting to scale the cliffs in massive waves. The base vibrated from the force of a gust of wind and Rollsaround hunkered deeper into his mineral bath.
“Do you require another introduction of thermal-loaded water?” Tenth Cousin asked from where she perched on a Shatar couch, reading something that was supposed to be very masculine poetry from her homeworld.
“I do not,” Rollsaround reassured her. “I was just reacting negatively to the storm.”
She tilted her head to examine the weather conditions with a thoughtful set to her antenna.
“I think it is a pleasant change,” she said. “The harsh, unfiltered lights of the suns here means that we have no real night. The clouds at lest allow the illusions of dusk, and the wind overhead is not entirely unlike breezes in Father’s canopy if you can focus your attention on some pleasant task.”
“Well if we can’t go outside during clear weather without protection due to the radiation,” Rollsaround grumbled, “and we can’t go outside in stormy weather due to the, well, the storm, I say we should have just built a floating base that we could submerge during storm weather.”
“There is perhaps logic in that,” Tenth cousin agreed, and very deliberately tilted her head back to the poetry.
Rollsaround drooped his leading appendages over the edge of the bowl and absorbed the storm light in a slightly sulky mood. The airlock cycled open and Third Sister stepped in with the brisk stride that Rollsaround had noticed that high ranking sisters only used when they were looking for someone who had committed some infraction. Tenth Cousin brought the poem up closer to her face and started moving her mandibles as if she was completely focused on sounding out the words. Third Sister tilted her head the examine the cousin and then abruptly swiveled her body to focus on Rollsaround.
“First Ecologist,” she began, “do you know First Mechanic’s current location? The exterior vents in my lab require percussive maintenance.”
“He is off shift by now,” Rollsaround said. “You should check the washrooms and his quarters.”
However even as he offered this sound advice Rollsaround felt a ripple of unease. Human Friend Conner almost never went to his quarters after his shift. He was highly social, even by human standards and usually came to the main room to chat first thing.
“I have already checked both of those locations,” Third Sister stated. “He is not there and he is not answering his comm.”
Rollsaround mulled over that. Clearly Third Sister needed to find the human. An improperly vented laboratory in such a base as theirs was a serious health risk.
“Have you checked the storage areas?” he asked.
“I did a ping for his comm,” she replied, “but it is not reading as in the base at all so I could not locate the room he was in. I was surprised as I didn’t think we had any shielding strong enough to block the comm signal in the base-”
She cut off as Rollsaround suddenly surged up out of his mineral bath and crawled out of it.
“What is the matter First Ecologist?” Third Sister asked in confusion.
“He has gone out for a walk,” Rollsaround said, forgetting in his rush to add emotional undertones to his words.
“Out?” Third Sister demanded, her antenna going lax with confusion.
“Out to watch the storm from withing the wind currents,” Rollsaround explained.
“How do you gather that?” Third Sister demanded.
“He has described storm watching on his homeworld to me,” Rollsaround explained as he opened the hatch to the sub floor currents. “He also mentioned what he thought the perfect storm watching spot would be on these cliffs. That spot is behind enough rocks to block the signal. Now if you will excuse me I am going to go fetch him.”
“He has broken regulations!” Third Sister clicked, her frill flashing red with alarm.
“That on a secondary vine,” Tenth Cousin interjected as she came up to them. “The same regulations apply to you First Ecologist! The wind-”
“I am rated as fully wind resistant under these conditions,” Rollsaround said with a dismissive wave, “one of the perks of not being built like a windmill.”
“Your thermal mass-” Tenth Cousin tried again.
“I am fully warmed at the moment and I will turn back if my core temperature drops too low,” he interjected again. “Now if there are no further objections?”
Without waiting for their objections he dropped down into the sub-floor current and tapped the control panel to direct the current to the main outlet. He bundled his appendages and let himself be swept into the cold, but fresh exterior water. He bumped up against the smooth rise of the outlet and edged up out of the water. The wind was powerful. He could feel it tug at him if he raised a gripping appendage high, but at least over the main path there were eddies along the ground that were so comparatively we that he couldn’t even feel them. He began shuffling at top speed along the path. A the crest of the first high spot the winds did hit him, shoving his body sideways. However, as he had expected it required barely a fraction of his strength to grip the path firmly with his set appendages as he moved the free appendages forward. It barely even slowed him down, the roar of it was rather disconcerting when it wasn’t muted by the base walls however. He did wonder how the human had made it this far. After a long steady shuffle he rounded the corner that was blocking the signal and spotted a tall figure down at the cliff’s edge that wasn’t normally there.
Rollsaround activated the comm he was holding pressed against the ground. There was a significant delay before the human responded.
“Human Friend Conner,” Rollsaround said, trying to put firmness in his tones. “Come now and carry me back to the base. I am at the crest of the hill looking down at you.”
There was an odd sound from the comm that suggested the human was trying to say something back, but human speaking organs were not optimized for shielding the microphone of a comm while speaking so the human simply gave two short radio bursts and the tall figure on the cliff’s edge began swaying back and forth as it moved towards the path. Rollsaround anchored himself more fully against the blasts and watched in grim interest as the gusts blew the tall human form to one side and then the other as the human struggled up the path.
When Human Friend Conner finally did reach him the human didn’t bother speaking. He just reached down with a grin and tried to lift the Undulate off of the path. For one long moment Rollsaround hung on to the ground in a show of strength. He wasn’t sure if it would impress the human but a little dominance display did seem called for. He let go when the look of perplexity fully formed on the humans face but before he could give a more powerful tug and they headed back to the base.
Being carried over a meter above the ground in this wind was another experience altogether. The swaying of the human in the wind felt far wilder than it had looked, and Rollsaround found himself clutching tightly to the human’s coat as the wind tried to rip him away. They finally made the base airlock and stepped through to the blessedly still air. Rollsaround dropped to the floor and shook the cold water off of himself.
“I think Third Sister would like a word with you,” he said.
Granted she would probably want a word with him too, but Human Friend Conner didn’t need to know that.
https://i.redd.it/gdoknun0390d1.gif

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

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Check out my books at any of these sites and leave a review! "Flying Sparks" - a novel set in the "Dying Embers" universe is now avaliable on all sites!
Please go leave a review on Amazon! It really helps and keeps me writing becase tea and taxes don't pay themselves sadly!

KEEP GOING

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Week 7: Limericks and Acrostic Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the whimsical nature of limericks and the creative use of acrostic poetry. - Understand the structure and humor in limericks. - Discuss the artistic possibilities of using acrostic forms.
Day 1: Introduction to Limericks - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of limericks. - Explanation of the AABBA rhyme scheme and humorous themes.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What appeals to you about the whimsical nature of limericks?
  2. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme contribute to the humor in limericks?
  3. Can you think of any famous limericks or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic limericks. - Exploration of the distinctive rhythm and structure.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme and rhythm contribute to the comedic timing in limericks?
  2. What humorous themes or scenarios are commonly found in limericks?
  3. Share your thoughts on the importance of concise storytelling in limericks.

Day 3: Analyzing Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in limericks. - Exploring the versatility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern limericks evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the whimsical nature of limericks allow for creative expression?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios that might work well in a limerick.

Day 4: Crafting Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first three lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on establishing humor and rhythm.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first three lines of a limerick?
  2. How can you establish humor and rhythm within the concise structure?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios you might explore in a limerick.

Day 5: Crafting Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the final two lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on creating resolution and punchline.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why are the final two lines crucial in providing resolution and a punchline in a limerick?
  2. How can a limerick deliver a humorous twist or surprise within its structure?
  3. Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a limerick focusing on a humorous scenario or theme.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first three lines of your limerick. How did you establish humor and rhythm? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and a punchline in the final two lines of your limerick? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a limerick?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of limericks, their AABBA rhyme scheme, and the use of humor within the concise form.
Day 6: Introduction to Acrostic Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of acrostic poetry. - Exploration of arranging words vertically to create hidden messages.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the creative use of acrostic forms?
  2. How might the arrangement of words vertically enhance the poetic experience in acrostic poetry?
  3. Can you think of any famous acrostic poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic acrostic poems. - Exploration of the different approaches to selecting and arranging words.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the vertical arrangement of words contribute to the overall impact of acrostic poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from using acrostic forms in poetry?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between the hidden message and the overall theme in acrostic poems.

Day 8: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in acrostic poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with vertical arrangements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in acrostic poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of vertical arrangements broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for acrostic poetry.

1. Sonnet:

• Definition: A 14-line poem, often expressing love or deep emotion, with various rhyme schemes.
  
• Example: Write a sonnet exploring the theme of unrequited love.
  

1. Haiku:

• Definition: A traditional Japanese poem with three lines and a 5-7-5 syllable count.
  
• Example: Craft a haiku capturing the essence of a serene moment in nature.
  

1. Villanelle:

• Definition: A 19-line poem with five tercets followed by a quatrain, using repeated lines.
  
• Example: Create a villanelle about the passage of time and its impact on memories.
  

1. Limerick:

• Definition: A humorous, five-line poem with a distinctive rhythm (AABBA).
  
• Example: Compose a limerick about a quirky character or situation.
  

1. Free Verse:

• Definition: Poetry with no set rhyme scheme or meter, allowing for free expression.
  
• Example: Write a free verse poem exploring the complexities of human relationships.
  

1. Acrostic:

• Definition: A poem where the first letter of each line spells out a word or message.
  
• Example: Create an acrostic using your name, describing your personality or aspirations.
  

1. Ghazal:

• Definition: A poetic form with rhyming couplets and a repeating refrain.
  
• Example: Craft a ghazal expressing the bittersweet nature of love and longing.
  

1. Tanka:

• Definition: A Japanese poem with five lines and a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count.
  
• Example: Write a tanka capturing the fleeting beauty of a sunset.
  

1. *Cinquain:

• Definition: A five-line poem with a specific syllable count per line (2-4-6-8-2).
  
• Example: Create a cinquain describing the essence of a quiet winter evening.
  

1. Pantoum:

- *Definition:* A poem with repeating lines and a specific pattern, often used for reflection. - *Example:* Craft a pantoum exploring the cyclical nature of life and change. 

Have you ever jumped into cold water on a hot day? Have you ever ridden an asteroid across the surface of the sun? Have you ever done a backflip off the moon and landed in a bucket of water in Vatican City? If so, then you’ve experienced one-tenth of what I experienced the moment I took that pill.
My headache disappeared, my heart started pumping, adrenaline and pure energy flowed through my veins instead of blood. My fingers twitched and my mind moved at three times the speed of light.
I fell back on my chair, flew towards my desk and danced my fingers like I was playing the keyboard. Chapters fell before me like grass in front of a chainsaw.
I cranked out TEN chapters in three hours. And that’s not just writing them either that’s editing them multiple times, adding extra hyperboles, and making the first 31 sentences and the title into acrostic poems that read: Alex has shit ties.
It was heavenly.
After dusting off my 11th chapter I stood, did a couple of yoga poses and then took off out of my front door for a run.
Now, everyone has a weakness, Superman’s got his kryptonite, Achilles has his heel, I have physical exercise. Usually, the thought of going for a run would make me want to chop my legs off. But those crazy little pills made the sad-sad go away. I was flying past houses, high-fiving bushes and waving to people as I roamed the streets like an exercise junkie.
My god-like strides took me through the suburbs of The Village through to the centre of town where Sherlock-Holmes themed coffee shops and Wuxia-themed teahouses dominated the streets. Writers sat in booths talking and hacking away at tablets and laptops, while cover artists drew mythical figures in between shots of espresso.
There was a hard-working bustle about the place. Little box-like robots wheeled their way out from a boutique distribution centre to people’s homes carrying boxes of wine, cheese, and steaming meals.
I slowed my run and sat back on a bench beside a rose bush. Birds were chirping and there was a hum of music from the cafes. It was heaven.
That night Manuel was back at my house and we walked three blocks over to a giant log cabin and another party. The next morning I took a pill, busted out eight chapters and went for another run. As the weeks flew by I attended more parties than I’d ever been to in my life, smashed out over a hundred chapters and grew dark rings around my eyes.
And then one day I met her.
****
This time we’d been invited to a pool party in the early evening. Manuel was sucking up to a bunch of new authors, and I was drinking beer with a bunch of horror writers while watching two guys beside the pool punching each other in the face over the use of Oxford commas. I didn’t know who was in the right – the guy whose eye was bruised, red, and puffy – or the guy with a swollen, red lump on his forehead.
Turns out, it didn’t really matter because they both paused mid-swing to stare at someone behind me.
In walked a woman in a white turtleneck, and large round glasses. Four other writers dressed in full tweed suits flanked her. Heads turned. Famous web fiction writers who I hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to were whispering to each other and pointing to the woman in white.
The horror writers next to me were trying to look disinterested but I could see them peering at her out of the corner of their eyes.
‘Hey Stephen,’ I poked a tall guy in the arm, ‘who’s that?’
Stephen laughed, ‘Good one man.’
‘I’m being serious dude, why’s everyone staring?’
Stephen hissed his next sentence like he was embarrassed others would hear, ‘Man. That’s the emperor of this place – the most read author in the whole of Crusher Media, that’s...’
‘...Lazy Cultivator? The guy that writes the chicken story.’
Stephen nodded, ‘Only – she’s not a guy.’
‘I guess I should say hi,’ I got out of my seat just as Stephen put his arm up to form a barrier.
‘Dude!’ He said, 'You, me, all of us,’ he gestured around the circle of horror writers, ‘We’re dirt.’ A couple of the guys clinked their beers and took a swig. Stephen pressed a finger into my chest, ‘We don’t talk to people like her. We don’t even look at her. This place has a hierarchy and man, you are the mud that hierarchy sits on.
I swallowed, ‘Good to know I’m appreciated then.’
Stephen shrugged, ‘Just letting you know the way things are dude.’
The tweed-wearers and their leader moved through the party like blue whales through a school of shrimp. A group of romance writers cleared out of their chairs beside the pool and the gang sat down and produced bottles of champagne from a wine cooler. The woman in white pulled a pair of VR glasses, a wireless keyboard, and a purple pill bottle from her bag, then she slipped a pill between her teeth, pulled the VR glasses over her face and started hacking away at the keyboard so rapidly she broke off one of the keys.
I swallowed, ‘She doesn’t come to parties often?’
Stephen shook his head, ‘not the sort of parties the rest of us get invited to. But... I’ve heard stories.’
I nodded slowly, my forehead was beginning to hurt the way it always did when the orange pills wore off. I took the orange pill container out of my pocket and shook it. There was no comforting tap of pills on the side.
I spun the lid open. It was empty.
My hands started to sweat. I got up, knocking over Stephen’s beer. He yelled at me, but I just waved an apology. I made a beeline straight for Manuel who was chatting to a bunch of fresh writers.
‘Hey, Eli,’ he said, wrapping an arm around me, ‘You guys heard of ElitheHill?’
A couple of the new writers grinned, one guy stuck out his hand, but my headache was getting worse with every second.
‘Manuel,’ I hissed, ‘I need some pills man.’
Manuel raised an eyebrow, ‘What?’
‘I need them now, my head...’ I stopped and rubbed one of my eyes, ‘I need the orange pills man.’
Manuel nodded, ‘Yeah, I’ll get you some man – in the morning.’ he wrapped his arm around me, ‘Come on man, be cool, have a beer.’
I shook my head frantically, my hands trembled, ‘I need them now Manuel. Come on. You’ve got to have at least a pack on you.’
Manuel stared at me, his eyes suddenly seemed much colder, ‘Yeah. I got some, but they’re two thousand reads.’
‘Two thousand?’ I bit my lip, ‘Man, they were five hundred two days ago.’
He shrugged and pulled the orange container from his pocket ‘You want em? Or not?’
My hands were a pool of sweat, my head thumped like a drum and bass concert and my right eye was twitching.
‘Yeah,’ I snatched them from his hand, ‘I’ll get Alex to transfer to you tomorrow.’
Manuel nodded, ‘Now get lost,’ his smile returned as he looked to the young writers, ‘You’re scaring off the new kids!’
The others laughed.
I fumbled with the pill bottle and Manuel gave me a kick, ‘Man! Get out of here.’ His eyes were hard again.
I stumbled my way over to the toilet, kicked the door open and slammed it behind me. My hands shook as I twisted open the capsule. The toilet smelt like vomit. The lid gave a click, popped open and I shook two pills into my hand. I usually took one, but I felt like I deserved the extra hit after everything I’d been through. I shoved them in my mouth, threw my head back, and swallowed.
A moment later I had electricity flowing through my veins and lightning in my brain. When I kicked the door of the toilet open it was like the world was in 8k resolution. Colours and lights were sharper and more beautiful. Beethoven’s fifth symphony was playing, someone passed me who smelt of elderflower and sweet wine. I breathed in and started dancing.
****
My call with Alex the next day began with me reciting a poem about his ties that I made up on the spot. He was wearing a beetroot red tie and by the third verse, his face had gone the same colour. It took him a few minutes to calm down, but when he finally did he ended up being quite pleased.
‘I see you’ve been producing a lot of chapters Mr Hill, you’re also pulling in a lot of readers. My suggestion is that you should start stockpiling them, rather than just posting them as you finish, that way when you hit another of your dry spells, you’ll have a buffer to get your shit sorted.’
I grinned and pulled the orange pills from my jacket pocket, ‘I’m not going to have another slump.’ I tossed the pill bottle up and caught it behind my back without looking, ‘Alex, I have discovered the key to literary immortality.’
Alex’s smile wavered for a moment, then with an effort of brute force he manage to affix it back to his face.
‘I’m glad Mr Hill.’ he went silent for a moment, ‘Just be careful okay... with those chapters I mean... we don’t want you to get burnt out with nothing left in the can.’
I shrugged, shook the pill bottle again, ‘Don’t worry about me buddy – just keep transferring Manuel that money. Okay?’
Alex nodded and ended the call.

Centuries from now, in the year 2364 CE, 57 years after the Choice of Empire—The elected Emperor of the Solar System and his family are massacred by the Sargons, a rival family who seized the throne and created chaos across the Empire. Caleb, the youngest son of the slain Emperor, was saved by the Altas, who were once friends of his family until they mysteriously exiled themselves from the imperium many years ago and remained hidden in an unknown location ever since.
Caleb is now in that faraway place, beyond the reach of the Sargons, where he will live in refuge and prepare for the day when he can have vengeance, justice, and redemption—and possibly salvation.
Burrowed deep within an asteroid in the Belt of the Solar System is a secret community of scientists, artists, thinkers, and engineers led by the Altas. A large hole is tunneled through the face of the asteroid, the entrance to the hidden world within. It was made to look like a human eye.
Its name is the Iris.
[Interlude]
Caleb woke from a deep sleep. The salt of his tears had dried on his face and sweat covered his body. He looked around the room and saw a man who was like an uncle to him asleep on a chair next to his bed: Han Moret, the leader of the Altas.
Caleb thought that Han Moret looked younger and radiant. His hair, once thin, was now full. His body, once frail, was now strong. His skin, once wrinkled, was now smooth and shining.
Caleb got up from the bed and put a hand on Han Moret’s shoulder.
“Han,” he whispered.
Han Moret woke with a start, “Christ!” then smiled when he saw Caleb, “Oh, hello my dear boy.”
Caleb was quiet for a while. “Why couldn’t you save them?”
Han Moret sighed and looked to the ground, “We didn’t have time. We learned of the Sargons’ plans too late. You were in your bedroom and everyone else was in the throne room. Saving you was the only way, all we could do. The best we could do.” He raised his head, “I’m sorry Caleb. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there, for not being able to do more. But you’re here now. We’ll help you. We’ll fight back and win. I can promise you that. I can give you that.”
“How?”
Han Moret grinned, “Come. Let me show you what we’ve been working on all these years. Why I left all those years ago.” He walked to the door and opened it, “Welcome to the Iris.”
Within the asteroid was a colossal garden paradise: waving golden fields and rolling green hills, thick forests and snow-capped mountains, gleaming towers and sprawling villas, vast lakes and flowing streams, smaller suns and lesser moons orbiting each other in the center—worlds within a world.
They walked through a field and stopped beneath a large oak tree.
“Han, this is incredible. How did you do it?” Caleb asked.
“Trillions of builders. Quattuordecillion, actually.” Han Moret raised his hand and an apple fell into it. He took a bite, “Probably more.”
“But there’s only…How many people are here?”
“A couple hundred. 964, I think. No, Arina was born this morning, 965.” He furrowed his brow, “Why do you ask?”
“Trillions of builders, hundreds here?”
“Oh! Right, yes. I see. Come, come. You’ll see too.”
While they were walking, Caleb learned that Han Moret was still fond of long and rambling monologues:
“Isn’t it obvious? Look around us. Well, beyond the asteroid. We seem to be alone in the Universe, but the probability that other life exists says otherwise. So what’s the explanation? It’s simple. We are the first intelligent life in the Universe. It makes sense when you think about it. Our homeworld, the planet Earth, was among the first habitable planets that formed in the Universe after it began, earlier than around 90% of the other habitable planets which now exist! And most of the habitable planets that will ever be formed in the Universe haven’t even formed yet. So, the planet Earth was one of the first habitable planets in the Universe that could support the rise of life and its long evolutionary development into intelligent life, to beings like us. Therefore, assuming that life out there will fundamentally be the same as it is here, and assuming that it only arises in an Earth-like environment, it shouldn’t be surprising that humans developed before others. You see, someone has to be first. There must be a first form of intelligent life in the Universe, before the rest. But it seems like no one has considered that maybe we’re alone in the Universe right now because we are the first and others will come after us, and maybe the others are already in the process of doing so, so we won’t be alone for long. And when those future life-forms ask the same questions as us, “Is anyone out there? Are we alone in the Universe?” we will be there to answer them, to be their aliens, to give them the comfort we never had and accelerate their development like we never could. And this is all the better too, because we’re going to need all the help we can get to do the ultimate thing, since the only reason we exist is to…”
“Han, thank you, that was…enlightening. But what does it have to do with what you were going to show me?”
“What? Oh, nothing. Sorry. What were we talking about? Ah yes, how we built the Iris. Fear not, the answer lies ahead.”
They walked further through the field towards a clearing. And there, out in the open, was a scientific laboratory and engineering workshop, tables and equipment and all with nothing but the sky above and a beautiful world surrounding them.
Han Moret led Caleb to an empty table, “So, here is it boyo. What do you see?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“Ha! Yes, but in nothing there is everything. For from nothing…” Han Moret glanced at the table and appeared to concentrate, then the table grew into a tree “…something.”
Han Moret tapped a finger to his head, “Mind-controlled nano-bots. That’s how we built this place. A one-to-one control of atoms within our local environment, limited to the area in which nano-bots are dispersed and the reach of electromagnetic signals emitted from implants in the brain, also limited by the mental symbiosis between a group of people if they’re working together, and of course the extent of their imagination. Everything within the Iris is touched by the stuff, so everything is under our control.”
“That’s…How did you do it?”
“Trade secret I’m afraid. But here, we call it…” Han Moret slapped the side of Caleb’s head, “…Pleroma.”
“Ow!”
“There! Brain implanted. You are now pleromatized. You can control the world around you, or at least the little bit within your proximate sphere. No worries, the plerons are easily inserted and removed, so no harm, no foul. Go on and try it. Synchronization is instantaneous, but learning how to use it is, well, a process. Your ability to control the world is determined by the strength of your mind—your concentration and focus. It depends on the speed and coherence of your imagination, the complexity and detail of your mental constructions, along with the depth of your knowledge and your intelligence, clarity of thinking, force of will, and, most importantly, very most importantly, the strength of your Self. Meditation helps, as does improving your brain with the stuff once you get the hang of it, but none of that will matter if you are not strong within. Oh, and you can change your body too.”
“Ah, so that’s why you look younger and glowing.”
“Indeed, and thank you. I’ve never felt better, haven’t been sick in years. We certainly look…godly, don’t you think? Although the secondary effects of being able to control our brains and bodies have been far more numerous than we anticipated, mostly socially, very odd and interesting things, but that’s a conversation and exhibition for later. If I may continue, with the Pleroma, the strength of your mind determines your power over the world, so if your mind is stronger than others, then you can overpower them. For example…”
Caleb’s body rose from the ground and hovered for a moment, then returned.
“See?” Han Moret said. “I could feel your instinctive surprise and mental resistance, but alas, I’ve had this stuff longer than you, and my mind is, for the time being at least, stronger than yours, so your resistance was, as they say, futile. The plerons that made their way into your body when you entered the Iris obeyed my commands and not yours, and your body obeyed my mind and not your own. Now, your turn. Try and turn the tree into something.”
Caleb looked at the tree and tried to concentrate. He vaguely imagined things, but was unsure of what to create and how. The tree became a gray mass, then began to violently vibrate and rapidly shapeshift. Colors flashed and textures flickered. Various sounds blasted all at once. It seemed like reality was having a seizure. And then the asteroid began to rumble…
“Woah! Alright, alright! Not bad for your first try. Certainly better than others. You have a powerful mind, no doubt, but not yet a disciplined one.”
Han Moret waved his hand and smoothed the chaotic patch of existence back to an empty table. “We’ll try it again soon. Mastering the Pleroma will require a lot of practice and self-improvement. I can improve your brain of course, if you’d like, it’ll help speed up the process and enhance your basic abilities, but even with a better brain, you’ll still fail to use the Pleroma if you don’t improve your consciousness, your mind—your Self. You must become stronger, Caleb—not physically, but mentally—if you want to master this power over the world. You could have a perfect brain, but if you don’t perfect your Self, then the Pleroma will be useless, as we just saw. You’ll only create chaos in the world and others will be able to control you.”
“Yeah, alright, I understand. But Han! That was amazing. I’ve never felt…I’ve never felt like that before.”
“Yes, but it is so much more than that, Caleb, so much more. You’ve only seen the least of it, the smallest bit. You see, this is why we had to leave the Empire. Weren’t you listening before? I was onto something. We’re going to need all the help we can get, including from other forms of life, if we are going to do the ultimate thing, since the only reason we exist is to prevent the end of the Universe.
For centuries, we’ve known that, given the Second Law of Thermodynamics, the Universe will end in the future, or at least its habitability for life—for us! We know this, and so we have a responsibility to do something about it, to stop it from happening so that life can keep living. ‘We’ are the Universe—just a local collection of its atoms, yes, but an equal part of its whole nevertheless—and we have within us both the genetic urge to survive and a personal desire to not die, so we can say that the Universe itself does not want us to die, or rather it does not want to die itself. Don’t you see? The purpose of our lives, the purpose of the Universe, is embedded within the structure of our existence. But how do we prevent the end of the Universe exactly? We don’t know the answer to that yet, specifically. That’ll take time. But we do know the basics of the answer, and it is very simple: we must control the Universe to prevent its end, and to do that, we must become God.
If humankind is to live forever, and more importantly ensure that there is a world in which we can live forever, then we must gain the knowledge and power to control the Universe so that we can prevent its end. In other words, we must become all-knowing and all-powerful, or at least gain sufficient knowledge and power to ensure that we can have an endless life in infinite eternity, through whatever ways we can. But whichever way ultimately works, we’ll need to create an eternal home for life, and that’s Godhood boyo. That’s the ultimate thing, and the Pleroma is a first step towards that: controlling the world around us with our minds, instantaneous creation by command. It’s a growing up for us. We began as children, born from the God of the Great Unknown at the Beginning, and we must grow up to become God to prevent the Great Known at the End. That’s the only thing when you think about it, our only purpose and the measure of our being, the direction of our progress and the future we’re heading towards: Godhood. If we don’t, then we will have accepted the end of the Universe and the eventual death of humankind, and everything before that will become pointless, the value and meaning of our lives will become forfeit. If we choose to do nothing or say that it’s impossible without trying, then we condemn the generations of the future to ultimate destruction, and in the long stretch of time, we will have annihilated the basic and universal value of human life, and therefore annihilate our own value too. Even if the end of the Universe will happen billions of years from now, or much sooner from some natural or cosmic catastrophe, that’s just a number that seems big to us, so the number doesn’t matter, it could billions of years from now or tomorrow—or today. On the scale of the Universe, what’s the difference between a billion and one, tomorrow and today? If humankind will become extinct in the future, no matter how many years from now, then there will be no point to all of this.
No, we must save ourselves by preventing the end of the Universe and become God to achieve that salvation. What comes after that? I don’t know. But for now, I know that we must spend our days working to achieve Godhood. That’s why we’re here and nothing else matters, except of course to make life worth saving, by making it worth living, by spreading love and creating art and asking questions and filling the darkness around us with light and the color of our lives, to expand outwards until we reach the end and then go beyond it—always onward, always creating, always living. You see, the end gives us our beginning. We begin at the end. God created and God will save, because we will become God to save ourselves. I call it the Anthroteloeschacosmological Principle, the purpose of humankind arising from the end of the Universe. I tell myself a little poem every morning: “The Universe will end / and I will die / if today I do nothing / to save starlight and humankind.” I wrote all this in an anonymous essay a few years back, The Salvation of the Universe…”
“That was you?”
“Yes, and it made quite a stir across the imperium as I understand it, but nary an effect. Typical. Anyways, we must prevent the end of the Universe—by whatever means, at all costs, and within moral bounds. The Sargons knew this and accepted the first two, but they rejected the last. I grew up with them. We discussed it often, along with your father. The Sargons think morality is an obstacle, a human thing that will prevent us from becoming God. They think Godhood is only about being all-knowing and all-powerful, but we Altas think differently. We think morality is essential to Godhood, because being all-knowing and all-powerful will be pointless if we are not also all-good, or at least as good as we can be when we try. Without morality, that wonderfully human thing—determining what is good and evil and then making it so—there’d be no point in becoming God, because there’d be nothing worth saving in the end. We’d just be a heap of atoms that figured out how to perpetuate themselves, like all of the other forms of life in the Universe, except on a bigger scale. But we are not like the other forms of life. No, we are different, and that’s what makes us so special and important. What’s the point of living if not for something, and why are we unique if not because of our morality allows us to say, “This is good and this is bad,” and then use that power to shape the world around us according to our imagination and will, enhanced by our knowledge and technology?
So you see Caleb, this is why we had to leave the Empire. We all know that the Universe will end in the future, but it seemed to us Altas like were the only ones who understood the significance of that fact, what it means for us and our purpose in life, the responsibilities that it gives us. We saw that the plan for existence is embedded in the structure of the Universe, our destiny and fate written across the stars, but when we looked around, we saw that everyone was living their days as if it wasn’t so, ignoring our ultimate purpose and wasting their time on lesser things. We had to leave, you see, to be away from the limitations and distractions of Empire, so we could do the work to achieve Godhood, to take the first step in leaving our childhood to create the Pleroma.
Your father disagreed with all this. He thought Godhood was a silly idea based on old religious notions. And that’s what makes what happened all the worse. You see, the Altas and the Sargons agreed with each other. We were unified against your father in our belief that we must achieve Godhood and that the stagnation of the Empire was preventing us from doing so, and your father was leading that stagnation, so we both felt compelled to take action. The difference between us, however, the vital difference, is that we Altas believe in morality, so we left the Empire to work in peaceful isolation, and the Sargons do not, so they murdered your family to seize power.”
And with that, Han Moret was finished.
Caleb was silent for a while. “But, I don’t understand. If you had this the entire time, why couldn’t you save my family when the Sargons attacked? Why couldn’t you use it to protect them? You could’ve prevented all of this. Why didn’t you share it with us?”
“Because the Pleroma is still in development, Caleb. It still has its imperfections and unknowns. We’ve only worked within the asteroid so far, and only with a small group of people who already had deep bonds and a shared way of thinking and years of training together as the power of the Pleroma slowly progressed, so our learning was limited by the pace of its development. And this was good, since the Pleroma would be apocalyptic in the wrong hands. This asteroid, these people, are minuscule compared to the scale of the Empire, to the true extent of what the Pleroma could reach and do. So, with all of its unknowns, we couldn’t risk deploying it beyond the Iris, and we couldn’t risk revealing ourselves by going beyond it and using it or building transmission relays across the Solar System so we could take long-distance action from here. We had precious little time after learning of the Sargon’s betrayal. And once we were there, in the fog of war, for all we know we could’ve killed your family if we had tried to intervene. Not everyone here has mastered the Pleroma yet, especially to use it in such a complex and rapidly changing atomic environment like war, with life and death in the balance, with its intense mental pressures and emotional reactions and all that would test the mental strength of even the best of us, even me. So, even if I had brought the best of us when it happened, we couldn’t risk trying it for the first time in such a situation, especially with such a close proximity between friends and foes. But we’re improving it and eliminating its imperfections, we’re learning, and it’s nearly ready to be used beyond this little home of ours.”
Now Han Moret was silent for a while. He looked around the Iris.
“I… You see Caleb…” He tried to gather his thoughts, but was conflicted between defending himself against Caleb’s criticisms and trying to proceed with his planned lecture. “With the Pleroma, we can control the Universe, both around us and within us. Everything, everywhere, all the time. And time itself too! Though that’s still in the experimental stages. One fellow tried to slow time by condensing his local spacetime and then went poof and, well, we don’t quite know where he is at the moment, but we’ll find him…hopefully. But with this stuff, we can speak and it shall be. We can create by command and move worlds with a wave of our hand. Dear, I’m getting poetic, but isn’t it so? This is what we’ve been working on all these years. And once we created it, we knew that the people of the Empire weren’t ready for it, so we remained in hiding. Most people beyond the Iris aren’t mentally and spiritually strong enough to have this power without creating chaos, destruction, and death across the Solar System, especially with the Sargons around. But now, with the Sargons in power, with chaos across the imperium, with you here, we think that perhaps it’s time. You have a powerful story Caleb, and you were born into a unique position to sway the hearts and minds of the people to shape the course of Empire and help them. And as your old tutor, well, I have faith in you, especially now that you’ve seen the Pleroma and understand what it can do and what’s at stake. I believe you can do what we could not and prepare the way towards a better future.
What are those quotes from the books I used to read you? ‘A people shall come, and when they say, “Be…” It shall be,’ and ‘Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? Can you send forth lightning, so it may go and declare, ‘Here we are?” That is this. We are it. Speak your voice, Caleb. Manifest your spirit. Create by command. With this, you can do anything, everything…” he amplified his voice to make it was deep and booming, “…ALL.”
And with the last word, hundreds of people suddenly appeared around Caleb.
A few hours passed and it was night. The suns above had dimmed, sharing their fading light with rising moonlight, creating a new and beautiful natural phenomenon that Caleb had never seen before, what the people of the Iris called a Sunrisset.
They were all in the field, groups of them sitting around bonfires. The ceiling of the asteroid was made transparent so they could see the stars around them. They were celebrating the arrival of Caleb and the simple fact that another day had passed of which they had come to know. Some of the fires were multi-colored, shifting with the mood and intentions of the people around them. Around one of them was a woman singing an ancient song. The flames danced and rose and changed colors to match her pitch and rhythm and tune—and when she finished with a climax, the flames burst into the sky, adding sparks to the stars. Throughout the night, there were fireworks from all directions and mini-supernovae exploding in the sky. Auroras waved above and among and between them. Such was life in paradise.
As conversation mixed with music and song, there was, most of all, a feast. It was the best food and drink that Caleb had ever tasted.
Han Moret gave another lecture, “Food is just chemistry, a unique combination of atoms that interacts with our taste buds to cause a specific reaction in the brain: pleasure. And with the Pleroma, we can have it all the time.”
“Don’t you get used to it though, having the best food all the time? What’s that saying, without the ordinary there’d be nothing extraordinary?” Caleb asked.
“I used to think that, but it’s been years and the food is still great, so no, you don’t get used to it. It’s utopia here boyo, paradise, the land of the blessed, whatever you want to call it, and not just culinary-wise. We can control our brains and bodies on the micro-level, so there’s no disease and, more importantly, no aging. I realize I might’ve buried the lead on that one, but yeah, we’re immortal here too, along with everything else. Godhood again. Everyone in the Alta, anyone touched by the Pleroma, will live forever, or at least as long as they choose and not be murdered by nature, which is all that matters. We can create anything we might need and want, and so we have everything we might need and want. It’s utopia, but it’s not without its problems.
Frankly, utopia is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s certainly better than the past and something that everyone should have, power and abundance and immortality and all, and we’ll help them get there, certainly, but it’s not the final place, not by a long shot. Even with all of this, we have a lot to do and further to go. You see, when all the problems are solved, when you can have anything you want all the time, some people just get bored. Who would’ve thought that heaven would be boring. But it is so. Since humans began on the planet Earth all those years ago, our purpose was to survive and solve the problems that nature laid on us—scarcity, poverty, ignorance, disease—so we could have a brief moment to pursue our happiness before we died. But what happens when our survival is secured, the problems are solved, and we have infinite opportunities to pursue our happiness? Wouldn’t life get boring? That’s what we’re struggling with now. Frankly, utopia doesn’t agree with everyone. There’s trouble in paradise and all. Ah, perfect timing. Look over there. See him?”
Han Moret pointed to a man who was a few bonfires over. He was drunk and stumbling through the crowd. Since the man was pleromatized, he had a literal aura of drunkenness around him and projected a blurred existence beyond his body that wreaked a playful and entertaining havoc on others as he walked by.
“Damn it, Thrax. Not again!” someone shouted.
Han Moret continued, “You see, many people here have chosen to drown themselves in happiness and never resurface, as if that’s the only end and aim in life. Maybe it is, maybe we haven’t found the true meaning of happiness yet, maybe there’s something else, who knows, but with the ability to instantly create whatever we want whenever we want it and cure our bodies of anything, a lot of people have chosen to exist in what, in my opinion, is a false state of happiness. They get drunk and use drugs or just go straight to the source and alter their biochemistry so they can remain in a permanent state of euphoria, and they can do so without harm because the Pleroma prevents damage from constant intoxication and allows them to become sober immediately, whenever they choose, so their productivity remains the same, which makes it harder for me to argue that they should imbibe less. There have been many arguments about it. But it’s undeniably a feat of hedonic adaptation for our species when you think about, being bored in heaven and all. Nevertheless, many people like that fellow Thrax over there seem to never want to end it, their eternal happiness. I don’t know, boyo. We’ve done wonders here, but it’s not perfect, far from it.”
Han Moret was silent for a while and looked lost in thought, “Anyways! Apologies, I’ve strayed from my prepared remarks. There’s more for you to learn. Alright, what’s next? Yes, one of my favorites. Lora! Get over here.”
A wind blew through the camp and a woman appeared in front of Caleb. She looked into his eyes and smiled flirtatiously, then became wind again and reappeared behind Caleb. She tapped him on the shoulder and then rose above the ground and swirled around him, finally landing on the seat next to him.
“Hello, Caleb. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She drunkenly leaned into him, “So, did he tell you about the sex yet?”
“Uh…” He looked to Han Moret, who was conveniently looking elsewhere. “No.”
“Of course not, the prit. An old-fashioned manners man through and through. But my god! You have to try it. Imagine two people are like two atoms and now they’re having sex, but people are many atoms, octillions of them, so sex with the Pleroma is octillion times greater, a grinding cloud of pleasure, a great orgy of the Universe, all between two people, or more if that’s your taste. Does that make sense? Oh! See that electric cloud thing in the sky over there? There you go, some people are having a go at it,” thunder rolled across the camp, “and by the sound of it, having a lot of fun. One night when the elders were away and the kids were in bed, we younger ones—well young is relative now, I guess—but anyways, we wanted to test the limits of the stuff, and man…let’s just say we filled the space and rocked the place a little too literally.”
Han Moret interrupted, “Yes you did. Thank you, Lora. You may go now.”
Lora laughed, then kissed Caleb on the cheek and disappeared, creating a golden streak of light across the camp as she moved to another bonfire.
Han Moret resumed his lecture, “So, as you just saw, when you can control the atoms of your body, you can move yourself around. In other words, you can fly. Now, after hearing this, there is, logically, an obvious question.”
Caleb thought for a moment. “How is the mind not destroyed when the body are deconstructed and moved? Wouldn’t the person die in the process?”
“Correct! That is something we did not know until we tried it, or rather one person. Some crazy bastard just tried it one day and it worked, and from the fruit of such courageous experimentation we learned a lot about the nature and structure of consciousness. We still don’t know everything though. We know it has something to do with the attachment of plerons to neural atoms and the signals that they send to each other across a distance, like a spatial expansion of the underlying physical structure of consciousness, but we’re still figuring it out. For now, though, the important thing is that it works.”
“But isn’t the reconstructed person just a copy of the deconstructed one and not really the original person? Wouldn’t the original person be destroyed during deconstruction?”
“No, it’s them. When you go from body to nebulous state to body again, you can feel yourself the entire time. There aren’t any gaps or skips. It’s a continuous process, from one point to another, and you’re aware of it throughout. You can feel yourself dissolving, then nebulous and moving, then coming together again. And let me tell you, when you’re scattered like that, truly at one with the Universe, it’s liberating. It feels like…” Han Moret searched for the right words “…pure being.”
He continued, “Anyways, we’re nearing the end of the night, so let’s end it with a bang. What do you want? You can have anything you’d like. Some Viking ale?” A horned cup appeared in his hand. “One of those Parisian cafes we toured on Earth?” He tossed the cup in front of him and it became a miraged-like partition of one. “An ancient mosque?” The cafe rearranged into one. “A conversation with the legendary President Takhani?” The mosque condensed into the 22nd century woman. “Or better yet, how about a chat with another me?” The President morphed into another Han Moret.
“Fret not, he’s just a copy of me. Not really me. He’s not actually alive at all. Doesn’t have a consciousness. Just a puppet on my mental strings. Anyways, anything you want. What do you say?
Caleb stared at the fire and the flames slowed. He thought “my family” and must have unknowingly projected due to his intense emotional state, because Han Moret sighed.
“I’m sorry Caleb. I can’t do that…Not yet.”
The copy of Han Moret chimed in, “But we’re working on it!”
“Yes, thank you. We’re working on it, trying to resurrect the dead. So far, we can recreate the bodies of those who have been, but it’s recreating their consciousness that’s the tricky part. As you’ve seen, we can deconstruct and reconstruct the consciousness of living individuals across space while maintaining their continuity of being. The Self isn’t destroyed. It’s reconstructing…Hold on, that reminds me.”
The copy of Han Moret dissolved.
“That’s better. It’s reconstructing consciousness across time that’s the problem. Specifically, it’s reconnecting the consciousness of someone who lived in the past at the moment of their death, the presumed termination of their consciousness stream and Self, to the present that’s proving difficult. We’re trying to connect disjointed time-points between death and now so we can restore a dead person’s continuity of being, their true and original Self. We have the ability to create a likeness of someone’s consciousness, dead or alive, as I just showed, but it’s not truly them, it’s just a copy of them. If we can resurrect their stream of consciousness, awaken them from what would seem like a long nap, then we will have achieved true immortality, and not just for those who are living and yet to be born, but for all those who have been, all of the billions who once existed in the Universe, back in the world alive and well, forever. And we’re close, Caleb, we’re close. We actually made a big step today. Let me show you.” He amplified his voice and carried it on the wind, “Arina!”
A young and beautiful woman appeared. Caleb struggled to think of another word than “perfect.”
“Meet Arina. It’s her birthday, by the way.”
“Hello, Arina. Happy….” Caleb stopped because he recognized the name and remembered his conversation with Han Moret earlier. “Hold on, when I asked you how many people were in the Iris, you said that someone named Arina was born today.”
“And indeed they were. Her. The first of her kind, a fully grown human created by the Pleroma. Instantaneous creation. Now, I can anticipate your train of thought, and yes, the ethics of missing childhood with all its memories and growth and learning are concerning, and we will explore them, but we are in the first days of this stuff, so there will be many questions, and we are ready to answer them. But regardless, we constructed a new consciousness boyo! We did it, and we’re learning. Perhaps we can spark consciousness in animals too, any form of life actually…maybe even non-life come to think of it. But the next step is to resurrect old consciousness, which, as you know, would be the true power of resurrection. Godhood again! I told you Caleb, we’re seeking Godhood here, and we’re gaining a little of it every day.”
Han Moret seemed satisfied with himself and took a deep breath. “Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight. You’ve had a long day and have been shown much. Time for some rest. We Irisians don’t need sleep anymore, but you certainly do. Your body isn’t used to the godly life yet, so…tut tut, time for bed.”
The next day, Han Moret flew himself and Caleb around the Iris. Children passed by in the air on their way to school and nearly crashed into them several times, laughing. After a while, Caleb and Han Moret landed near the edge of a lake.
“See them?” Han Moret gestured to a man and woman in the distance between the lake and the foothills of a mountain. They were in the midst of combat. As they fought, various weapons rapidly materialized and dematerialized in their hands; each strike and block with someone new: now a sword, then a bow and arrow, now an axe, then a spear. They were flying and shifting and moving in a rhythmic flow, using the land around them and pure force as weapons. It was a literal storm of battle, as if reality was at war with itself, clashing shards of spacetime, two gods battling in a field.
“So, you want me to learn how to do that? Fight with the Pleroma to defeat the Sargons?” Caleb asked.
“Fight? No, those two are just bored, so they’re having a little dance. For Earth’s sake, Caleb. Haven’t you been listening? Watch.”
There was a boom in the distance. Caleb looked to where a mountain was, or rather, where it used to be, since it was missing. Han Moret had destroyed it instantly, deleting it from existence.
“With this, all you need is to be in the same room as them and then boom, gone forever in the blink of an eye, with only a thought, without even a fight, without even a flinch. Theoretically, you don’t even need to be in the same room as them. You could be here and destroy them wherever they are in the Solar System with targeted pleron dispersal and sufficient transmission relays. You could do whatever you want wherever you want. But I think the people need to see you, Caleb. They need to see you standing before the Sargons, declaring their wrongs, making things right. They need to hear your words, your plans for the future, and see the awesome power of this stuff, how it will change everything. Because with this, there will be no more war. With this, we become God. We’ll live forever, boyo. We’re free now. What will we do? Ah, so much, so much. There’s so much we can do now! Peace in our time, gods in Empire. A new day in a new age. It’s coming, Caleb. Gods among us because they become us. Are you ready?”
Caleb thought for a moment, then closed his eyes and stood in silence.
After a while, he flashed his hand. And all at once, a burst of wind blew, thunder cracked, and the suns shone brighter—the world shook.
He opened his eyes, “Yes.”

Week 1: Introduction to Poetry and Sonnets
Day 1: Overview of Poetry Styles - Activity: Icebreaker - Introduce yourself through a poetic name acrostic. - Lecture: Brief history of poetry, introduction to various styles. - Discussion: What draws you to poetry? Share your favorite poems.
Day 2: Understanding Sonnets - Activity: Analyze a classic sonnet together. - Lecture: Explanation of sonnet structure (Shakespearean and Petrarchan). - Discussion: Share initial impressions and feelings about sonnets.
Day 3: Writing Exercise - Crafting a Sonnet - Activity: Break down sonnet structure with examples. - Assignment: Write a sonnet exploring a personal experience or emotion. - Vocabulary Words: Quatrain, Couplet, Volta.
Day 4: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for sonnets. - Lecture: Discuss common challenges and strategies in sonnet writing. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' work.
Day 5: Recap and Reflection - Activity: Reflect on the week's lessons and exercises. - Lecture: Overview of upcoming weeks. - Assignment: Write a short reflection on what you've learned about poetry and sonnets.
Study Guide Questions for Week 1: 1. What is the basic structure of a sonnet? 2. Compare and contrast Shakespearean and Petrarchan sonnets. 3. How does the volta contribute to the meaning of a sonnet? 4. Discuss the role of rhyme and meter in sonnets. 5. Explore your personal connection to poetry. What emotions or themes resonate with you?
Quiz: A short quiz assessing understanding of sonnet structure, key terms, and the historical context of poetry.
Week 2: Embracing Haiku and Villanelle
Day 1: Understanding Haiku - Activity: Analyze classic haikus. - Lecture: Explain the traditional structure and themes of haikus. - Discussion: Share thoughts on the simplicity and depth of haikus.
Day 2: Crafting Haikus - Activity: Write haikus individually. - Lecture: Discuss the significance of nature in haikus. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual haikus.
Day 3: Unraveling the Villanelle - Activity: Analyze a famous villanelle. - Lecture: Explore the structure and repetition in villanelles. - Discussion: Discuss the impact of repeated lines on the overall theme.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Composing a Villanelle - Activity: Break down the process of crafting a villanelle. - Assignment: Write a villanelle on the theme of memory or loss. - Vocabulary Words: Tercet, Refrain, Envoi.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for villanelles. - Lecture: Discuss the challenges and beauty of crafting repetitive forms. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' villanelles.
Study Guide Questions for Week 2: 1. What defines a haiku? Discuss its structure and thematic elements. 2. Explore the cultural significance of nature in haikus. 3. What is the structure of a villanelle, and how does repetition contribute to its impact? 4. Discuss the emotions evoked by repeated lines in a villanelle. 5. Reflect on the process of crafting a villanelle. What challenges did you face?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of haikus, villanelles, and the effective use of repetition in poetry.

20F, I have had gastroparesis for about 9 months. At first I could eat food in pieces, after a couple of months I began to eat only liquid food, soups and cereals in a blender, ice cream, in general, all soft food. Later, I began to develop allergies on my face, always in one place, and I gradually began to remove various foods from my diet. Now my diet is rice porridge with water, rice milk, potatoes, zucchini and cauliflower, only turkey as meat. and guess what? I'm tired. the last 2 weeks things have gotten even worse. I feel like there is a huge plug in my stomach that doesn’t even allow water to pass through. I'm very scared. I tried treatment with different drugs, followed a diet, exercise, and worked with a psychiatrist. I even managed to gain a little weight, because in 9 months I lost weight from 115 kg to 50. But now everything is just terrible. If I have breakfast with literally two spoons of rice porridge, then by the evening I simply throwing up of the same undigested porridge. my doctor insists on surgery, but no matter how much I read reviews and listen to people who did the g poem, they say that almost nothing has changed and sometimes they feel even worse. I'm confused and i don’t know what to do… I already tried to have surgery, but I had to refuse. I have post-trauma associated with anaphylaxis to penicillin, my doctor knows about this, and he decided to use this antibiotic anyway, telling me: the intensive care team is next to you, if anything happens they can help. so I had to look for another doctor. Tell me, are there people here for whom the surgery was successful? is it worth doing surgery? Any nutrition tips are welcome!! sorry for the long text, I wanted my situation to be clearer

10,000 Stolen Days

May 10, 2024 marked exactly 10,000 days since Sophie’s life was taken. 10,000 days which had they not been stolen from her in December 1996, must have seemed to be filled with possibility .1996 had been a banner year, she had achieved so much in the previous 6 months, setting up her production company "Les Champs Blancs", and producing three different productions, with more on the way. But it had been exhausting few months with all this work and travel, and although Christmas is a holiday, it is not always a relaxing one.
Christmas had often been a difficult time for Sophie. She walked out her first husband Pierre Jean at Christmas 1981, so suddenly, she left her infant son behind and had to steal him back with a ruse involving a relative. She broke up with Bruno Carbonnet over Christmas in 1993. leaving him a puzzling note;
“Je suis partie là où tu n'a jamais été, là où tu n'iras jamais".
“I have left there where you have never been, there where you will never go”. This didn’t make much sense to Bruno. He waited alone for two weeks in the apartment hoping she would return, he a had bought a bicycle for Pierre Louis for Christmas. In January he left to teach in Le Harve and when he returned the locks had been changed and all his stuff was on the landing. Sophie was deliberate about change in her life she didn't just let things happen to her. Her agenda year planners reflect this. She was meticulous in recording meetings, calls, contact details and travel plans. She brought 1995, 1996 & 1997 year planners with her. There are notes and reminders stretching into February 1997. She even tore off the little perforated corners as each week passed. It's a poignant reminder of how abruptly her life was cut off in full flow - the week beginning 23/12/1996 still has its corner intact.
Sophie’s style was austere, almost minimalist. Her cottage was painted white inside and out, with a except for the ground floor, which was black slate with a shiny varnish. The only decorations were a few sprigs of holly placed by the housekeeper to welcome her. A traditional Christmas week filled with loud music, tinsel and overconsumption was the diametric opposite of her character.
Worse there is the prospect having to trade pleasantries with tiresome relatives.
That Christmas Daniel had decided for the first time to have a big family Christmas inviting his extended aristocratic family to his chateau in Ambax in the South of France. For Sophie, who even after six years of marriage barely knew Daniel’s relatives, this was an easy choice and a hard no.
She bought her ticket on the morning of her travel planning to spend nearly a week in Ireland including Christmas Day and return on the 26^th. It may be that this was the only return flight she could get at the time. Or it may be, as she told her aunt Madame Opalka “she was going to go to Ireland to spend Christmas there, because the house in Ambax was full of people”. From what Daniel has said, and from what others have said, it may be he tried to persuade her to come to Ambax for Christmas and convinced her. Sometime during the weekend she got an itinerary by fax at the cottage confirming her flight back on the 24^th. But even on Sunday afternoon she told friends she had not made up her mind which flight she would take.
It is difficult to say how well their marriage was going at that time because the reports vary. Daniel said it was "harmonius and peaceful" which was far from accurate. There are several biographies of Daniel Toscan du Plantier, and they paint a vivid picture of a man who though incomparably charming, lived his life his own way without much concern for his family. He married four times and in three cases his wives were already pregnant before they got married. When he married Sophie, his eldest son and daughter were not even told about it, they only found out later in the summer when Sophie turned up at events.
Some witnesses including Daniel said was it was the happiest period, others say she was basically “an official wife” and that “their open marriage was an open secret”. The truth was probably somewhere in between. She had visited Ambax in November and collaborated closely on the documentary Europa 101 with Daniel. Whatever their personal arrangement, Daniel was deeply affected by her death, even though he refused to come to Ireland. His daughter Ariane wrote how she spent months taking care of him, feeding him sedatives and sleeping pills. He was clearly overwhelmed, so Sophie must have been more than an "official wife" to him. Was their marriage "open"? They clearly had a high degree of independence from each and had affairs in the past.
Nevertheless, Sophie may have balked at spending Christmas in Ambax. For one thing, it was far away from Paris, where her friends and family lived. For another, Daniel’s family and entourage knew very little about her. Apart from his second son Carlo, who was friends with her son Pierre Louis and some servants, she would have been on her own. Christmas in Paris would have been tolerable, she could escape and visit her parents and friends whenever she wanted, but in Ambax, she would be cooped up with nowhere else to go.
There is a question of whether Daniel was having an affair at the time. According to a Garda memo, French journalist Caroline Mangez said that Daniel was with a female film producer. However the files are full of unsubstantiated rumours and lies. Even if he wasn’t having an affair Sophie may have suspected he was. If Daniel had invited a mistress, or even a former mistress, or a former wife to Ambax, it would be unbearably awkward for Sophie. Daniel had uncountable affairs, and many of his mistresses knew each other, some remained on good terms.
Daniel may have been faithful at that time, perhaps he was telling the truth when he said their marriage was harmonius, but in any case Sophie had other reasons to skip Christmas. She had wanted to come to Dunmanus for months, but work got in the way. The heating had just been fixed and she needed to pay the plumber and her housekeeper. They preferred cash.
And if Daniel was unhappy that she wasn’t going to be there for Christmas, they were going on holiday together in the New Year to Dakar, Senegal. It would be much easier for Sophie to be with Daniel by himself than his whole family. This trip to Ireland would be a breather for her. She didn’t want to be alone, she asked at least 8 different people to accompany her, including 2 former intimate partners, though there is no evidence that she was having an affair or intended to have an affair.
There is a post-it note with a message in Sophie's hand seemingly inviting someone to spend Christmas: "Je vous laisse le choix : venir ou de refuser histoire que vous passiez un bon noel"
"I leave you the choice: come or refuse just so you have a good Christmas"
Whoever that note was written to, it was to someone she addressed as "vous" so not one of her closest friends or family.

Work

If she had another relationship, it is not obvious from her diary and it was unknown to her friends. What her diary does show though is that she had thrown herself into work.
Apart from her agenda she kept a working notebook, a red hardback book which is filled with a tantalizing mash of different references to famous works of art, music, and contacts details of artists and philosophers. She had recently completed work on three different films. The first work was a documentary on African Art. The next was Europa 101, a documentary written by Daniel showcasing the wealth of European cinema. This was Daniel’s pet project, he loathed US cinema and the dominance of Hollywood. He once likened his wife’s death to a “bad movie”. His life’s work was a “struggle against cheap portrayals of violence, which is what leads to deaths like this” (Irish Independent 12/07/1998). This project involved gathering interviews and footage from dozens of famous directors and actors, including John Malkovich, Ingmar Berman, Pedro Almodovar, Werner Herzog, Nanni Moretti, Jean Luc Godard and many others. It was broadcast on December 8, 1996.
The third was an art house movie called “He sees folds everywhere”, a concept movie exploring the idea of folds and creases in everyday life, in hanging clothes, paper, wrinkles on skin, folds of a human brain. This was a project of the director Guy Girard, and it was the work to complete this that delayed her trip to Ireland. But she had other projects in train in her notebook. She was researching Greek folk music, Rebetiko. She had a project or projects in mind which were somewhat dark in nature.
She was in contact with George Didi-Huberman who had written a book called “The Invention of Hysteria”. This is a photographic history of how Jean Marie Charcot – one of the giants of 19c French science – locked up thousands of women for the imagined maladies of hysteria, lethargy, catalepsie and experimented on them, deliberately photographing them in contrived and frightening poses. It is a very weird and frightening history.
Her next project seems to have been based around human fluids. Her final notes are filled with references to human flesh, death and the four medieval humours of blood, phlegm, black bile, yellow bile. There are extensive notes to what seems to be a lecture given by linguist Jean Claude Milner on the subject of melancholia. Note that “melancholia” is a synonym for “black bile”, one of the four humours.
She was researching the avant garde Irish/British painter Francis Bacon, who was known for producing uniquely disturbing images. She references “Three Studies for the Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion”. There was a Bacon exhibition in Centre Pompidou in 1996 and Sophie must have attended it. Her notebook contains her jottings from a lecture on Bacon by writer Philippe Sollers which seemed focused on blood.
"Why does painting touch the central nervous system?" "We are carcasses of meat, meat above all" "The canvas bleeds, blood spurts red" "Dostoyevsky had a crisis in front of the 16^th century Hans Holbein’s painting “The Body of the Dead Christ in the Tomb She jotted down a quote from the play Libation Bearers from Aeschylus:
Orestes sees the Furies coming and exclaims "O Lord Apollon look! Now they come in troops, and from their eyes they drip loathsome blood!"
The last entry reads "research the Furies"

Friday

Having failed to convince anyone to join her in Ireland for Christmas, she went alone. She telephoned Josephine on Tuesday 17^th, told her she would be arriving alone on Friday. She called her again on Thursday to ask her to make sure the house would be warm.
She went to the airport on Friday morning, bought a ticket with the return date on the 26^th, carrying with her a rather hefty bag filled with clothes, including some eveningwear. Perhaps she envisaged visiting people at Christmas time. She expected to stay nearly a week. Later, possibly on Sunday she changed her ticket, she called the Aer Lingus ticket desk in Charles de Gaulle airport, Paris and got a return flight for the 24^th. She received the itinerary details by fax, as she had a machine in the cottage.
She was not in a good mood when she arrived. She had some words with the woman at the Avis counter who passed her to her colleague. The photos on CCTV show a woman looking tired and drawn, something which was remarked upon by the Avis rep, who estimated she was in her forties, a little older than her 38 years. But nobody looks their best walking off an aircraft. She had also attended the Unifrance Christmas party the night before. This was a lavish party held in “Les Bains Douche”, a unique Paris nightclub combined with a swimming pool. Apart from the late night, the social effort must have been tiring. There was a rumour that Sophie had a row that night at Les Bains, a row with one of Daniel’s mistresses, but I have never heard that confirmed. But other reports say that those who met her there found her "radiant", "in good form", "playful". "She went arm in arm to see friends," one guest at the party told Paris Match, "but she always came back to the table where Daniel was sitting." (Paris Match 09/01/1997) Daniel was quoted years later by Michael Sheridan - “She spent some hours having an intense, passionate conversation with a film-maker” - Alain Terzian, producer of Les Visiteurs, one of the most successful French comedies of the 1990s.
Strangely though, Daniel’s first statement said she left on Wednesday. So perhaps it didn’t register with him that she was at the Unifrance party with him on Thursday 19^th, or perhaps he had forgotten the party altogether.
Sophie was captured on Cork Airport CCTV at 14:41 pushing a trolley through the arrivals gate. The scheduled arrival time was 13:20, but because of almost an hour’s delay in departure it didn’t touch down until after 2. It would have taken about 15 minutes to pick up baggage from the carousel.
Cork is a small airport and it is quick to get through the arrival hall to the car hire desks, only a matter of a few meters away.
Sophie hired a silver Ford Fiesta and would have been on the road by 14:50.
The quickest route to West Cork would have been via Bandon and Dunmanway but it is more likely she went via Clonakilty and Skibbereen. She stopped in Ballydehob to buy kindling. She may have stopped in Skibbereen to buy petrol. A pump attendant reported seeing a woman matching her description driving a silver Ford buying petrol. He also noted a tall male companion in the passenger seat. The Gardai discounted this sighting because they accounted for the petrol in the car when it was hired and the mileage thereafter. There were also some discrepancies in the vehicle’s appearance and its description in the statement. Also the Ballydehob sighting is more reliable as the woman got a chance to talk to her. It would seem odd to stop in both Skibbereen and Ballydehob, both petrol stations.
But she seems to have stopped again in Schull because she bought bread and cheese in the Courtyard Deli, and this was most likely on Friday. She talked with the proprietor, Denis Quinlan to ask if there would be live music. At this stage it would have been around 4:30pm and after this she went to the cottage. She called her caretaker Josephine at 5:15, so she must have been at home by then. We don’t know if she went out after that point. She may have stayed in. At 10:15 she called her friend Agnès Thomas and spoke to her for half an hour.

Saturday

Sophie’s whereabouts on Saturday morning are unknown. Perhaps she stayed in, perhaps she went out. Finbarr Hellen was working on his land nearby and saw her car outside the house 12 to 1pm. He didn’t see her and thought it was unusual for her not to come out and say hello. He also remarked her car was parked in an unusual place. He did not elaborate more than this.
The next event we know is that she bought some groceries in Brosnans supermarket on the main street in Schull and took £200 out of the ATM.
For the curious, her shopping list is listed below:

Item	Price
Firelighters	0.85
Independent Newspaper	0.85
EP Televised "Chopped" & Her	0.52
Parsley	0.40
Low Fat Yoghurt	1.90
Ballygowan Natural Spring Water	0.85
Napolina Penne	0.75
Rashers	1.26
Courgettes	1.23
Chicory	1.79
Onions	0.09
Fox's Classic Biscuits	0.83
Flat Mushrooms	0.65
Pepper Coated Salami	0.85
Cooked Turkey	1.89
Mushrooms	0.34
Avonmore Leek & Potato Soup	0.99
Monini Olive Oil	3.45
Ballygowan Natural Spring Water	0.85
Avonmore Carrot & Coriander Soup	0.99
Ballygowan Natural Spring Water	0.85
	22.18

This list does suggest she was buying just for herself, but also that she planned to cook moderately elaborate meals with parsley, courgettes and chicory. Together with the cheese, bread and fruit already in the house she had enough food on there to last a few days. This quantity of food suggests she had not decided to travel home on the 24^th at this stage.
The till recorded a time of 2:49pm.
Sometime after this or perhaps before Sophie entered Tara Fashions, the clothes shop run by Marie Farrell. What Marie Farrell saw that day and subsequent days has been subject to revision, retraction and details seemed to be added with each telling. But I think the most reliable report is the first and all the subsequent revisions cannot be trusted. Farrell called the Gardai on the 25^th but they didn’t get around to taking a statement from her until 27^th. Even so we can assume her memory was fresh. Here is her statement, verbatim.,
On Saturday the 21st December 1996 I was working in my shop at Main Street, Schull, Co. Cork. Between 2p.m. and 3p.m. I noticed a weird looking character across the road from my shop. He was approx 5’10” in height, late 30’s, scruffy looking, long black coat, flat black beret, thin build, sallow skin, short hair. He was there for about 10 minutes. On Sunday morning at 7.15a.m. approximately I noticed the same man on the road at Airhill. When I saw him he was walking towards Goleen on the right hand side of the road and I was travelling in the opposite direction. When he saw me he stopped and put up his hand to thumb a lift. I did not see this man before or since. On Saturday the 21.12.1996 at approx 3p.m. there was a woman in my shop. She did not buy anything. I now know that this woman was the deceased woman from Goleen. I recognised her from the photograph on the television.
There is also a record of her questionnaire which may have been taken earlier than this statement.
In reply to question no 8 When/where did you last see him/her alive? She replied "saw her in shop. She bought a "Carrig Donn" aran sweater aran nap coloured, rolled neck late Sat aftemoon. Paid £39.00. Questions No. 9, 10, 11 & 12 were left blank. In reply to question No. 13 "any other help?" Marie Farrell replied "saw a man on Sat afternoon hanging around street. Desc late 30's, 5'10" very short hair wearing black beret. Saw him again Sun morning @ 7.20am walking towards Airhill but thumbed her.
In a later questionnaire, Farrell said the sweater was too big and she didn’t buy it.
What is interesting her is that Farrell does not draw any explicit linkage between the weird character in the long black coat and the woman in the shop. They were just there at approximately the same time. Farrell did say in later statements that the man followed her up Ardnamanagh road, but this was many years later. Her statements that she saw the same man at Kealfadda bridge at 3am on Monday are untrustworthy, but we won't go into this here.
A farmer, Frank Lannin, saw Sophie driving towards Schull from Goleen around 3pm. She saluted him as she passed him in his tractor. The time or the direction of travel must be wrong here.
The final sighting on Saturday she was seen in the Courtyard pub, eating a crab sandwich and left at 3:30pm. Sally Bolger went to feed her horses on Alfie Lyons land at 4:15pm and says she saw Sophie’s car at her house.
Saturday evening is a complete blank. Nobody saw her, she may have called people on the phone but we don’t have precise details. Her husband said she called him twice on Saturday, but we don’t have any confirmation of this.
At some point Sophie changed her ticket home. Her diary has a number listed as “O’Mahony” and the number was the line to the Aer Lingus ticket desk in Charles-de-Gaulle Roissy airport. The new itinerary was faxed to her in her cottage. The reason why she decided to come home early is not known. Her friend Jean Senet said her husband Daniel persuaded her. For his part Daniel said there was no particular plan and he was to pick her up from the airport at Toulouse at 8pm. Another report tells that she came home early to meet her father, so she could help him with his taxes.

Sunday

For Sunday morning we don’t have any reports.
She called to Dunlough at in the early afternoon, perhaps around 1pm. Sophie had walked here several times before. It is a spectacular headland featuring a lake and three crumbling castles. It was cold and dry at the time, good weather for a walk, if bracing. It is necessary to pass the farm to walk the headland and when Sophie did so she met Tomi Ungerer. This was the second time they had met. Sophie had called here in April but it seemed Tomi and his wife were having a row at the time and Tomi had not paid much attention. Daniel said that Sophie feigned a puncture as an excused to call to the farm. In June Sophie had sent Tomi a fax about the death of a mutual colleague, Gilbert Estève. She may have been seeking information or just making contact. Sophie made a habit out of making contacts with important artists and thinkers. It was one of the things that a colleague said of her, she knew all the right people. It is possible that Tomi was one of the people Sophie wanted to meet for a while. Tomi invited her in for a drink after she had finished her walk. She returned an hour later and they had a conversation over two glasses of wine.
Tomi was a renowned visual artist, with a keen eye and a professional interest in culture. Born in Alsace he was marked by World War II and had seen the ravages of the Nazis and the backlash from the French afterwards. He worked for as a cultural ambassador to improve Franco German relations.
The statement that Tomi gave is remarkable in the insight it gives to Sophie’s character her interests and state of mind.
“She was saying how great Ireland was for literature and education compared to France, how France had thousands of books published every year but that there was no good Authors there, how Ireland was vibrant as a centre of literature for a small Country. She discussed her family, moreover her children and their education in France. She indicated that the reason she was here in Ireland was she wanted to be alone for Christmas. I considered this strange but I sometimes like to be alone too. We talked about books and culture and how the language here was more meaningful and truthful compared to the superficial nature of the French.”
“She seemed a very genuine person, a fine person, not pretentious or snobby. I thought she was deep and intelligent, so much so that I made notes of some things she said, “In a language there should be no need of the use of cuteness” “The problem of France is her lack of modesty”. I wrote those saying they might be useful for my work in the futre. I wrote the quotes on a card in which we exchanged addresses before she left. On hindsight now I would go as far as saying she was not beaming, that she had something on her mind. It’s hard when you do not know someone well to say. I offered her a third glass of wine but she did not take any. We gave her some eggs to take with her, half dozen for her supper. We have hens.”
The word “genuine” is telling. Tomi was struck by Irish people, how the highest compliment an Irish person can give about another, is to say that person is “genuine”.
Tomi described her appearance:
“She was wearing some type of black leather expensive looking pants, brown suede hiking boots, a white/cream ribbed polo necked sweater and a beige wool blazer and a navy blue wool jacket with belt and a navy wool cap and red suede gloves, wine/red gloves. She was dressed very well. She had her hair tied back.”
As to her demeanor, this seems to have grown with the telling. The documentaries made much of the legend of the lady of the lake, whose appearance is reputed to be a harbinger of death. This lurid tale does not feature in the early Garda statements. Tomi remarked that “she was not beaming”, that she may have had something on her mind. His wife Yvonne turned up while they were chatting.
“While we were chatting, Sophie told me that while she was up at the castles she felt this great anxiety almost fear. This is not an uncommon feeling for people who visit the castles. She wasn’t in a cheerful mood but she wasn’t really glum either. She talked about her plans for the future and we spoke about meeting up in Paris in the Spring. She seemed happy to be here and she wanted to be here. She said she liked it here but her husband didn’t. She said she would be back at Easter. We made vague arrangements to meet over the next three days. I gave Sophie some eggs and she left here at about 5.45 p.m.” Yvonne’s estimate of the time she left must be an error. It is more likely she left at around 3:45.
After leaving Dunlough Sophie went to Crookhaven to Sullivans pub, a legendary stop. Here she spoke with the proprietor Billy O’Sullivan and his son Dermot, both of whom speak good French and knew Sophie from prior visits. They also knew her friend Alexandra Lewy. One time Alexandra had arranged to buy a cast iron church gate for Sophie’s birthday, Sophie was fond of antiques and bric-a-brac. Dermot had carried this gate up to the cottage. Sophie asked about getting logs for her fire. Dermot recommended she go to a filling station. She said there was only kindling at the filling stations.
It is interesting that so much of Sophie’s alleged stops and conversations were about fire, kindling, logs etc. Despite this, the photos from her house show she had a lot of fuel. There is a stack of logs, several bales of peat briquettes, what looks to be a 40kg bag of coal and one, perhaps two baskets full of kindling. She had enough for days of fires, unless she lit both hearths, which would be unlikely considering the second hearth did not draft properly, and she was arranging to have it fixed. The kindling may have been bought from Camiers Garage when Kitty Kingston reported meeting her on Friday.
She told her friend Alexandra before she left that she was going to sleep in the guest room because it was the warmest room, being directly above the oil range. There was also a brass bedwarmer found next to her bed. All these details point to Sophie being acutely aware of the cold.
A witness heard her discussing the old Coastguard houses with the Sullivans. These are a prominent landmark visible from O’Sullivan’s pub across the water. The witness left before Sophie did at 4:30pm so she must have returned to the cottage no earlier than 5pm.
The witness noted she was wearing “black leather pants and brown suede desert boots and a long chunky jumper”. This matches well with Tomi Ungerer’s account.
Note the "desert boots" seen by this witness and the "suede hiking boots" mentioned by Tomi Ungerer are probably not the hiking boots she was wearing when she died. The hiking boots she was wearing were very worn, the laces had snapped and had been tied halfway down the lace holes. It looks to me she shoved them on without untying/tying the laces. Sophie would not have visited Schull wearing old worn-out shoes. A pair of dark brown suede "desert boots" are visible at the bottom of the stairs in the garda photos. These match better with the shoes seen by the witness.
It’s 25 minutes drive from Crookhaven back to the cottage so if Sophie left at 4:30 she would have been back home before 5pm.
We know she most likely went home, because at 5:32pm she called her friend Agnès Thomas to wish her a happy birthday. Agnès was out so Sophie left a message.
The postman called at 6pm and noted the lights were on. Presumably he was doing a Sunday shift to cope with the Christmas rush. He didn’t see Sophie’s car, but as he only went as far as the lower gate, it is quite possible he missed it.
At 7:30pm she called her housekeeper Josephine but she was out. She tried her again at 9:10pm but again she was out. Josephine returned and called her back at 10pm. Sophie told her she would be leaving on the 24^th, not the 26^th as she originally intended. They arranged to meet the following day at noon.
Sophie’s phone records were not available, as the exchange she was on was a traditional analogue exchange, with no recording facility. Schull was one of the last places in the country to have such an old system. Days later Garda technicians tried to retrieve call details from her cordless phone but its batteries were flat and nothing was found.
At around 10:30pm she called her husband Daniel, who said he couldn’t take her call. He said he was in a meeting with Unifrance associates. As it was nearly midnight in France, this an unusual time to have a work meeting. Daniel called her back “about twelve minutes later”. He said she was sleepy and probably in bed. Given that the cordless phone was found next to her bed, this seems plausible. He also said that she told him about her visit to the Ungerers and had formed a work project with him. He said she told him she returned home at 9:30pm, but he could be wrong about this. The phone calls to her friend and housekeeper strongly suggest she was at home from 5:30pm.
This was the last anyone heard from Sophie until her body was discovered at 10am the following morning.
From this point all we have is are the police photos and the story they tell is ambiguous, there are multiple possible interpretations.
The fire was lit that evening and there was an empty wine glass on the mantlepiece with dregs of wine in it. There was a loaf of bread, a white crusty “basket loaf” which had been sliced and left open. This is odd as there are no crumbs visible on the table and no plate. Would Sophie have gone to bed leaving the bread out? It’s possible. Another possibility is that the bread was sliced in the morning. But if so where is the plate that she used?
Conceivably Sophie may have left these items from another evening, but it is more likely she consumed the wine that evening, possibly with some cheese she had in her pantry, and the bread she had cut. There was a book open on the table, propped open by a jar of honey next to an empty teacup. However as the cordless phone was found by her bedside, it seems likely this was all left from the previous evening.
It seems the most likely Sophie spent her last night reading, went to bed and then took the call from Daniel.
The book propped open was not a Yeat’s anthology. There is a tale repeated by many true crime authors that Sophie was reading a Yeats poem called “A Dream Death”. It contains the lines
I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place Near no accustomed hand,
Ralph Riegel titled his book after this poem. But this is not the poem she was reading, if any. Yes there was a Yeats anthology found on her bed, but not the bed she slept in, it was on the bed in her personal room which she didn’t use that weekend. The anthology is “Quarente-cinq poèmes suivi de La Résurrection”, a collection of later Yeats poems translated by Yves Bonnefoy. It does not contain the poem “A Dream of Death” but it does contain a poem called “Death”, a meditation on how animals die versus men.
Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all;
But the Yeats anthology is not open on the bed, it is closed in the police photos. Unless the Gardai picked it up before photographing the room, then we cannot be sure what poem or poems she read. As regards the book propped open on the kitchen table, it’s prose and it is French. Journalist Lara Marlowe wrote that the book open on the table was a book about lighthouses.
Among the exhibits the Gardai took are three books

1. Le Coeur Battant – “The beating heart” – this is the title of a 1960 French movie.
2. Le Tenes Vert – Unknown – looks like a transcription error by the Gardai, could be “Les Terres Vertes”
3. Le Cine Monde – World Cinema

Other books in the house seem to correspond well with what we know of her character. On the landing there is another book from an Irish writer, Sean O’Casey, “Les Tambours de Dublin” in French.
On the shelf in her box bedroom we can see a book by Virginia Woolf, the title itself is illegible in the photo but Woolf’s distinctive profile photo is visible on the spine. I wonder if the book might be “A Room of one’s Own”. This essay advocated that a woman writer could never accomplish anything unless she had financial independence and her own space to work in. Even if it was some other book by Woolf, this essay would have been known to Sophie. It hints at what the white cottage meant to her. Her tiny box room tucked under the gable and raised single bed was a quasi-monastic cell - a creative space, a room of her own in West Cork.

Crafting Elegance in the Nonet Form**
Summary:
A nonet is a poetic form comprising nine lines, with a descending syllable count in each line. The first line has nine syllables, the second eight, and so on until the final line, which has only one syllable. This structure creates a gradual progression or build-up within the poem.
Examples:

1. "After Apple-Picking" by Robert Frost.
   
2. "Landing Under Water, I See Roots" by Annie Finch.
   
3. "Sonnet to the Past" by Kenneth Pobo.
   

Tips for Creative Writing:

• Syntactic Precision: The nonet's structure encourages clear and concise language.
  
• Build Tension: Utilize the descending syllable count to create a sense of climax.
  
• Experiment with Themes: The nonet is versatile and can explore various emotions and topics.
  

Questions for Exploration:

1. How does the gradual reduction of syllables impact the poem's rhythm and tone?
   
2. Can you identify any contemporary poets who have effectively employed the nonet form?
   

Additional Resources:

• Explore nonets by modern poets like A.E. Stallings for innovative approaches.
  
• Read classic nonets to understand how poets from different eras have utilized the form.
  

Creative Writing Prompt:
Step 1: Choose a theme or emotion for your nonet.
Step 2: Determine the descending syllable count for each line (9-8-7, and so on).
Step 3: Compose your nine lines, utilizing the gradual reduction of syllables.
Example: In twilight's embrace, shadows gently play (9) A symphony of hues, the fading day (8) Silhouettes dance, a poetic display (7) As night unfolds, dreams find their way (6) Stars whisper tales in the cosmic array (5) Moonlight weaves a spell, a silent ballet (4) Soft breezes carry the night's soft relay (3) A tranquil world in slumber, at bay (2) Night's hush, in quiet, holds sway (1)
Remember: The nonet's structure provides a poetic journey, leading the reader to a poignant conclusion.