Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.5

“Dad, can I come in?”

“Don’t know, can you?”

“Please Dad, May I please come in please?”

“That is from the Dept. of Redundancy Dept. I believe”


“Augustine, what do the readings say? What year you in?”

“I don’t know, I think I’m fine.”

“Reading’s here say 03250.”

“If you knew why’d you ask?”

“Parenting.  Fix the settings and I’ll let you in. Were you visiting Uncle Ignatius?”

“Yes, he says Hi. I’m telling Mom, by the way.”

“Your Mother, is currently shopping in Paris. Circa 01994. Don’t think I will let her in when she gets here either.”

“The settings fixed.”

“Bio-Dome up Gus and please clean your pterodactyl before you come in.”

Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.4

I rushed over to see Yana being loud with Mnoa while other students gawked.

“You are liar, Mnoa” she said strongly, pointing at him…..Mnoa stood with his arms crossed. I noticed his claws beginning to raise.

Yana was angry, her neck fur lifted through the small divots in her breathing apparatus. I hated when that happened, we all did. We were supposed to get version 76 that corrected this weakness but they were already 20 moons late.

Yana, breathed in and tried to compose herself. “My clan say these are lies, that fundamentalists, like you Mnoa, are spreading about the humans. So, they can still keep them as slaves. Justify their status, keep them down, like your clan has done for decades, Mnoa.”

“What lies?” I asked.

“Mnoa, says the humans used to kill their own babies inside the bellies of the Matties.”

“I’ve seen the pictures and the words, it’s true.” He said.

“You lie.”

Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.3

Hendrix leapt out of his chair, pointing outside of our suffocating glass encased fishbowl-like stage/recording studio to the seating area to his right.

“Where is she going, the older female?” Everyone in the section turned towards the poor lady leaving our hastily made auditorium.

One of his lawyers held on to him like he was a child.

“It’s probably a pee break. Don’t they have those in the future?” I asked with my sarcasm metre at a 10 out of 10.

“No, yes, yes, of course I understand. Actually, it’s better this way, the chaos of it all. Harder for them to erase this. Let’s review the recording devices in detail again please?”

“No, Hendrix, let’s not. We’ve been over these 20 times plus. I’ve put together everything you wanted, the 48 random witnesses.  I’m not in the mood, I’m tired.” I paused for a second.

“Damn it…….fine….fine…… here, let’s go………15 audio tapings, different tech for each, ok?  13 videos all different tech. The witnesses, the dictation in 24 languages….”

“I wanted more than 30 languages.” he said.

“Please stop and answer my question, which you are doing your very best to avoid……anyway pee lady is back already, I don’t think she washed her hands.”

“<Mic is live to the audience Captain>” the voice in my ear piece squawked.

I waved a half-hearted apology in her general direction, counted to 5 and turned to Hendrix as he was commiserating with his other lawyer and turned to me with that grin.  “No need to be unpleasant…where were we, may I ask for a review?”

I made sure to glare at his lawyers this time, in hopes that they could passive aggressively organize their client.

“Today? what….?” I skimmed the notes, “you exposed,  20th century celebrities who are in your words…what? …..unlicensed and/or Time Machine Thieves.  You named pop singers, reality stars and 1 hit wonder rappers in a scary amount of intimate and useless detail and in my on the record opinion, you are overly obsessed.  Now! Are you still doing your best to avoid the last question?”

“What question?”

“I asked if you enjoyed the killings?” Again, he went to the lawyers.

“Why does this matter? Also, they were not killings, they were judgements made real.”

“I …..we want to know your mindset going into these excursions, you are being analyzed, evaluated and…”

“I will remind you again” he interrupted,” I was fully deputized and these were legal punishments judged by the temporal council. This was …. ”

“The actual act, did you enjoy it?”

“Only one. Just one. It must be stated we all wanted him dead, I got to him first.”


“Charles Dickens!”

“Charles Dickens was a Time Thief?”

“Oh, yes, Old Chuck. He hated that name, pushed us to the edge with this Ghost of Christmas past, present and future business. Mocking us. I want this to be stressed, I felt that was a personal affront to me and my profession. It was dishonorable. … …killing him in the middle of writing that novel, though, that was splendid.  Poetic really. You have no idea as you’ve never read the ending. The Mystery of Edwin Drood, oh, it’s amazing, that ending. He stole the whole package from the 27th century, I read the original Mandarin version, quite good.”

Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.2

And there he was.

He walked in and everyone accepted it as normal. I was suddenly living in bizarro world. I actually thought the boys were pulling some kind of initiation prank on the new guy. But no, he was real. Potentially compromising a crime scene, striding along, giving fist pumps and fake gut punches to everyone he knew.

I looked at Singh and whispered, “the wizard?”

“The wizard” she said nodding, trying to suppress a smile while she pulled her cap over her eyes and stared at her feet.

He was 350 pounds easy. Balding with long hair at the back in a pony tail. He wore a way too small “Who Farted” t-shirt that exposed his lower gut, his outie belly button and stretch marks that resembled a treasure map.

Every pocket in his cargo shorts were filled with something. From a super hero action figure to bottles and sticks.  All of this was contained by a beige trench coat that I had only seen in older movies. The bottom edges were frayed and stained with street salt and dirt.

The stench that followed was unnerving. At first, I thought it was him but it came from his bag.  An older Adidas sports bag faded blue and red, with Rush and Iron Maiden logos.  He pulled out a mason jar. It had a phone immersed in a semi-clear gelatin.  Not a cell phone but a regular cordless home phone.

“Where is the recently deceased” he bellowed, with too much flair and a horribly fake English accent.

The recently deceased was 5 feet in front of him and right in front of me. He couldn’t miss her, his head angled high like a reject from a terrible amateur Shakespeare production playing for the cheap seats. He strutted my way. Unscrewed the jar, pulled out the phone from the jelly. We all reacted to the odor. He lifted the victims top to expose her belly. Took the phone and pressed it on her with both hands. Lifting it quickly in the air, with once again to much drama, kept the phone up for 3 seconds and stared at it.

The “wizard” then turned began to dial with his middle finger on the indentation of a key pad left on her skin.

“Singh, What the fuck?”

“It was in Holy Water jam” she whispered and shrugged.

“Silence” he screamed.” I am calling her soul”.

Scenes From Unwritten Novels 1.1

I let out a chuckle when I noticed the shivering Dr. El-Choueiri.  Even now, elbow deep again, with this occult/end of the world business, his struggle to get through the crowd of tuxedos and gowns towards the opera house. The juxtaposition of his white lab coat, with the upper-class suits, well, it was a sight.  His screams though, they stopped the frivolity ……  “I have deciphered the book…. you cannot let the children sing it. The Little Drummer Boy, it is not just a song, it is a warning. It is the Fifth Horseman!”

In the beginning

“Mr. Watson–come here–I want to see you.”

The First Telephone Call. What were the first words ever spoken on the telephone? They were spoken by Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone, when he made the first call on March 10, 1876, to his assistant, Thomas Watson.