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This topic is in the Short Stories discussion forum.  (rss)


(YYSLSC) Gretta




Topic started on 15-1-2009 @ 02:39 AM by antar


Darkness knows no other way than to hide in shadow through the day.

Yet when the sun no more does shine, the dark will rise to claim the light.


"Booze, I have to get some booze."

Searching through her second hand 5 year old, depleted black and torn purse, Gretta Angstrom gave it a shake, "Change, that's all I ever have anymore, change." Deciding on a stale piece of Wrigley's spirit gum, from the bottom of the bag, Gretta brushed off the tobacco from the stick and shoved it in her mouth angrily.

With a slight stagger to her steps she heads out the front door of the Roadie Motel that she's called home for the past 15 years as best she can remember.

Pulling her overly stretched out slightly stained black sweater closer to her chest and crossing her arms to fold them close to her armpits , Gretta looked both ways and crossed the once busy street towards her home away from home, "The Hubcap" an old trucker bar once famous for its location off of the Old Historic Route 66.

The Hubcap was about as pitiful as the roach motel she lived in and just as modern, back in the 50's that is. Neither had seen a paint brush since the 40's and it was evident from the cracking and peeling disrepair it would most likely fall to the ground before it ever did.

Gretta didn't care, as a matter of fact it gave her consolation at least that life was just a barrel of laughs and all at her expense.

Her bony and weak legs finally made it to the door of the Hubcap and she rushed in from the cold and took a seat, 'her seat' at the right hand corner of the bar. Her sagging breasts laid flat against it as if for warmth.

Adjusting to the darkness Gretta squints at the scene which begins to unfold before her now widening eyes. Completely out of character for this hideaway in the middle of nowhere, a young couple are practically making love in front of the silent jukebox, dancing as if they were deaf and could feel the music.

" Jimmy, what the hell is going on over there? Can you tell them young perverts to get a motel!"

In a scratchy and deep voice he shakes his head and says "As long as they's paying customers, I dont care if they crap in front of the jukebox."

Taking out the handful of change Gretta orders a bourbon and water no ice. With hand slightly shaking she raises the glass to her thin cold down turned lips.

The couple begin to separate and walk over to the bar and sit beside Gretta to her left. Straightening her crooked spine and looking disturbed, she stares straight ahead at the sign above the bar which reads "Tipping is NOT a city in China".

The phone rings and Jimmy walks over and picks up the receiver then turns his back and begins yelling at the person on the other end of the line, obviously his beaten down wife.

The young couple at this point turn their attention to Gretta and it is the woman who first address's her with a voice so gentle it is barely audible.

"Gretta, my name is Entarah and this is my mate Ohniha. We are here to take you home."

"What!" I'm not ready to go home Enter or what ever your name is, and I'm not into your sick ways either if that's what your hinting at. No sir, Gretta Angstrom may be a lot of things but a sex weirdo I am not!

"It was then that Ohniha spoke with the same gentle quality and softness to his voice as his mates." Gretta, you do not belong here, this is not your home. Long ago our ship crashed in the nearby dessert and when the rescue ship arrived there was only room for 2 passengers, you as the ships Captain decided to remain behind until the next rescue could be arranged."

Gretta's head began to swim and vertigo threatened to choke off her breath. The room began to swirl before her and she passed out.

When she awoke she was floating in a space of non gravity within the center of the ship. Memories began to flood her mind and racing visualizations came flooding in, she remembered.

Gretta began to laugh almost hysterically and as she reached down to hold her stomach and felt her now firm strong body beneath her hands, young, healthy and beautiful. With firm high breasts and muscular legs, she took a deep breath and transported herself to the living quarters where her Husband and Wife were patiently waiting for her recovery.

Standing in the middle of the room they all embraced and held each other close not daring to let go. Gretta finally moved back to look at her beloveds in the eyes, their beautiful eyes, and asked "How long?" "50 years in earth time."

End.



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reply posted on 15-1-2009 @ 03:02 AM by Shaker


I like the story... is there more? I'm always up for a good read, especially if there's a good plot involved...

(psst... desert, not dessert)



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reply posted on 15-1-2009 @ 03:15 AM by deepred


Thank you for sharing your work.

Quality descriptives.



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reply posted on 15-1-2009 @ 05:47 PM by antar


Thank you both, I always get confused on the food after dinner and the arid dry place with cacti.

No, there is no more, just a short story that got written last night while keeping the home fires burning against the bitter cold.

I suppose if it did continue, it would go back to before the crash, leaving the home world and traveling to earth for scientific research.

I appreciate your stars and comments, gotta have flags and stars to get member credit...



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reply posted on 16-1-2009 @ 02:13 PM by visible_villain


Interesting read, antar.

Not sure precisely why, but this story reminds me of one I read only recently, though it was written sometime back in the 70's, entitled, "Overdrawn at the Memory Bank," author, John Varley.

It is a pretty quick read, if you can still find it. I got my copy in a Varley anthology ( used and for a buck ) entitled, "Persistence of Vision," named after a short story he wrote which won him the Hugo, among other awards ...

As it happens, "Overdrawn at the Memory Bank," eventually went on to serve as the basis of the screenplay for a film you may know of ( *ahem* ) , "The Matrix."

So, you're in pretty good company !

Thanks for the tip, Best, vv.



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reply posted on 16-1-2009 @ 05:26 PM by antar


reply to post by visible_villain



Whaoww, that's an amazing connection. I am not much of a reader so no chance Ive picked up the book, but you know there is a creative pool available to all, so the concept of the story wrote through me.

Could you share with me the other one you spoke of? Or at least tell me about it? And what is a hugo? I have heard of it, but am unfamiliar.
Thanks for stopping by!



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reply posted on 16-1-2009 @ 06:14 PM by interestedalways


Great writing style, Antar.

I really felt like I was in the story.

I would like to see you build on the story if you get the urge!




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reply posted on 17-1-2009 @ 11:26 AM by mystiq


This would make an incredible book, and how close to home is this for some?
You are so talented, a joy bringer, thank you.



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reply posted on 17-1-2009 @ 02:24 PM by visible_villain


antar said:
Could you share with me the other one you spoke of? Or at least tell me about it? And what is a hugo? I have heard of it, but am unfamiliar.


There's a pretty good wiki page on Varley. As long as we're on the subject, certainly among my favorite novels of all time, are a set of Varley novels known nowadays as the Gaia Trilogy. It's about a living being that was an entire world ...

The Hugo Award, as well, should have a fairly extensive Wiki entry.

Hope this helps !



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reply posted on 20-1-2009 @ 05:26 PM by Mr Green


reply to post by antar



Thankyou antar I loved it, I really did. The ending too "50 years in Earth time" brilliant, you almost want to travel there to feel the actual atmosphere of this world.



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reply posted on 11-2-2009 @ 08:32 PM by antar


Thank you my friend, Gretta was a joy to write.



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reply posted on 12-8-2009 @ 01:09 PM by mtmind


I have not been on in a while. I liked your story, but the first two lines are what great writers write. Very nice!

mtmind



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reply posted on 13-8-2009 @ 07:04 PM by antar


Thanks, I should have written "Doth" instead of does, I dont know sounds more quoth the ravanish.



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