I Called Him Specks: Part 1

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Hello everyone and welcome back! It's story time! I've been working on this one for a couple weeks and it keeps snowballing, and I haven't had a chance to finish anything else yet. That's why I decided to go ahead and post the part that I'm ready to release. OK I've made you wait long enough.

I Called Him Specks

The sky was overcast, and the day was warm as I left the office. The receptionist, Bridgette, yelled to me before the door closed “I’ll see you in the morning, Paul!” I turned and waved to her, then walked my usual route home over the brittle, crumbling pavement of the sidewalk. I was happy for the weak breeze that broke the stillness of the late spring evening. I passed under the blossoms of familiar cherry trees with cute little iron fences surrounding their trunks.

As I approached the intersection at Orchard and Rose streets, I remembered I didn’t have an umbrella. Looking up at the silvery sky, hoping not to get caught in the rain, I beat myself up over not being properly prepared for a trek I made daily. I heard a noise behind me that sounded like footsteps. I was being followed, or at least somebody was walking behind me. The steps made a soft pattering sound, not two feet, it was the sound of four paws. I stopped, and so did my pursuer. I walked, and heard the steps again, definitely following me.

I turned to face my assailant, and he wagged his fluffy white speckled tail. I looked down and smiled at the cute little pup, then continued on my way down Orchard street. The dog trotted happily by my side, but I tried my best to ignore him. The rest of his fur was like his tail, bushy and white with dark brown spots of varying sizes. He was a tiny fellow who barely came as high as my knee. He must have had an owner nearby, because he wore a studded black leather collar and seemed well fed. The shaggy fur on his face came to a point a couple inches below his chin forming a distinct beard, but his most notable feature was the markings on his face. The dark brown spots on his fur seemed to bleed together around his eyes making it look like a perfect pair of little glasses that wizened the creature.

The jolly little pooch followed me the whole walk down the street. If anyone passed by, they’d have assumed he was my dog. He kept pace with me as I turned up the gravel driveway to my house. He sat on the front doorstep when I reached the door. I worried he wanted to come inside because I wasn’t ready to be a dog owner at the time. To my surprise, he stayed there and made no sign that he even wanted to go inside with me. He just sat there as though he intended to wait for me.

I opened the door and went inside, leaving him there. After a couple hours, my roommate, Chris came in from work. Chris was the worst roommate ever, and I tried to avoid him as much as possible. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about that little dog, so I told him about it and asked if he’d seen the dog out there.

“Yeah man. He’s asleep right there on the step! Man, I was going to ask you about that.” Chris said with an unreadable smile.

“Really?” I believed him, but still guarded my tone with skepticism because, it was Chris after all.

“Hahahahaaa! No! There’s no dog out there, you sounded like you wanted him to be there and I didn’t want to burst your bubble.” Chris chortled. “You should’ve seen your face!” He went into aggravating peels of laughter, overly pleased with himself as usual.

I walked to the door counting the days until Chris would move out. I didn’t think I’d get another roommate after him. I looked out into the front yard. There was no sign of my spotted little friend. I hoped he was safely back with his own master, and I proceeded not to worry anymore.

The next day, I started my morning walk to work and everything seemed as it always was. I followed the boxwood hedges that lined the edge of the driveway and divided my property from the neighbor’s. It was a cool and sunny morning, the kind of weather that brightened my spirits. I waved and said my traditional “Hello!” to Mrs. Patterson, who was watering her garden.

“Good morning, Paul!” She smiled at me and waved back before returning to her work.

 I blissfully turned the corner and was bewildered by what I saw. There he was. The second I turned around the corner of the hedge at the end of the drive, he was sitting there facing me. It was like he’d been waiting for me. I almost tripped over him, but he was quick and got out of the way in time. I recovered and kept going toward the office. I paid the dog no mind other than a brief glance and nod of recognition. I hadn’t gotten far when I saw that he was following me again.

I decided this was likely to be a regular thing, so I started calling him “Specks” not because of the mottled fur pattern, but the way it made him appear to wear little round spectacles. He followed me home that day too. I reached down and tried to pet him, but he darted away before I could. I tried a few more times with the same result. He didn’t seem scared of me, it was a rather playful way of dodging my hand. I eventually convinced myself he didn’t want me to pet him and gave up trying.

Specks followed me to and from work daily for months. I thought it was strange that I never saw his owner since I could tell by looking at him he was no stray. I got used to his company and even came to count on it. Before Specks, I didn't know how lonely my commute was. 

To Be Continued....

Thanks for reading! I'll publish the rest of it as soon as I feel it's ready to release. Until then!

A Close Encounter

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Hi Everyone! The story I have today is completely fictional. I'm really proud of it and hope you'll enjoy it!

A Close Encounter

It was dark and quiet in my cozy little bedroom. The only light came in first through the branches and leaves of the stout maple in the yard, then through the window, and finally seeping through the lace curtain to spatter on the opposite wall. The only sound was the ticking of the cuckoo clock that had hung in the hallway as long as I could remember.

Tick. Tick. Tick. On it went. I wasn’t quite sleepy yet. Lying in my soft warm daybed, I stared at the ceiling counting the cracks in the aged paint. Eventually, sometime after seventy-three, I discerned shapes in some of them. I was examining one particular group that looked exactly like a silhouette of a dog, when I heard a distant barking. I found the timing of little Fluffy from down the street rather comical, and smirked.

Suddenly, I realized it didn’t seem so dark in my room as it had moments before. I scanned the chamber for the source of this new illumination. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when my eyes landed on the door. It was closed tight, but a bright blue light shone around it so forcibly that it threatened to push the door right off its hinges. I lay there petrified with fear, unable to move. I wondered if I might have fallen asleep without noticing and seamlessly drifted into a strange nightmare. I hoped.

Paralyzed, I kept my eyes locked on the door. I watched as the handle slowly began to turn. I shut fast my eyes and held my breath. I didn’t know what was coming. I wanted to wake up from the dream. At least, I thought I was dreaming. I wanted to scream, but that never works properly in dreams. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. Through my sealed eyes I could see the light filling the room but heard no sound. The cuckoo clock wasn’t ticking.

I decided to peek. I reluctantly pried my eyes open. There was a bright shiny surgical lamp, or something like it, right over me. I was still lying unable to move, but not from fear this time. I wasn’t in my room, nor my bed, and couldn’t remember being moved.

I was surrounded by strange looking creatures, and all my limbs were securely fastened to the cold metal table with straps of a material I didn’t recognize. I was so cold. I shivered as I struggled against my bonds, and I did scream. It was a loud earsplitting shriek that shook the room and turned even my own blood to ice. It was the most vivid scream I’d ever dreamed.

The creatures moved around me. They were bipeds, walking upright, and judging from the scientific feel of my new cell, they were highly intelligent. Two oversized lidless eyes sat on each of their bulbous heads. Some of the eyes were pale blue, and some acid green but otherwise almost human. Their smooth looking grayish skin reminded me of dolphins. So did the slits for nostrils they had in place of noses that opened and closed the same way a blowhole would with every breath. Their mouths were the same type of slits, but more controlled. They had something that resembled hair but was more like an elegant fin protruding from the top of the head and laying in different hair like patterns. Seven tentacle looking fingers dangled from the ends of their hands. These were prehensile and powerful yet gentle depending on the need. They didn’t wear clothes and I cannot explain the genitals with words, not that I would want to describe them. I saw nothing on their bodies that could have passed for any kind of ears, yet they undoubtedly heard my scream.

A couple of the creatures murmured something almost inaudible however in a language unlike anything I’d ever heard. It almost sounded like singing, bad singing in sort of melancholy yet creepy tones. One nodded to the other and immediately raised an odd looking huge metal syringe, that was more like a toy in appearance than an actual medical instrument. It happened so fast. Before I could scream again I felt it pierce my shoulder nearly to the bone. The pain was unreal, even for a dream, but I went out so quickly that I didn’t have time to register it then.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I reached over and hit the switch to turn off my alarm. I was comfortably in my bed. What an insane dream that had been. I stretched and moved to get out of my bed feeling as though I hadn’t moved my arms or legs for some time. The pain in my shoulder shot through me, the same shoulder that was punctured in the dream. “It was a dream,” I firmly told myself. But was it?

The End

Thanks for reading! Be sure to check back for more stories! I'll try to post one weekly.

Tank the Traveling Turtle

Hello, everyone! Welcome! Today I have a short story for you!

The following story was inspired by our pet turtle who was discovered and rescued by my husband. I'm looking forward to creating many adventures for this little guy. In this, the first volume, I tell the story of how a wild baby turtle wound up as a pet. I know how annoying it can be to have a blogger go on and on about things that sometimes seem irrelevant to the post, so I won't do that today. Although based on true events, some of the details in this story have been altered or added for entertainment value. Enjoy!

Tank Travels Home

The sun shone brightly in the early morning. It was late spring, and there had recently been a heavy rain. All the ponds and rivers were flooded, the ground was soggy, and little droplets still clung to every blade of grass. To the baby turtles that lives in the area, it looked to be a fantastic playground.

They played in the wet grass, dug in the mud, and splashed and swam in the many puddles. The little turtles had so much fun that they soon began to forget about one another. Slowly, they drifted further and further apart.

Tank was probably the tiniest of the baby turtles. He found himself to be all alone. He was perfectly fine with that. He'd discovered a lovely puddle that, to him was like his own personal pond. There, in his favorite puddle, Tank had the most perfect basking rock. It was just his size. He half floated happily in the sunshine, clinging to his favorite rock. Life was good.

As the morning hours stretched on, a loud noise came down the path beyond. It was a truck. Tank had never seen one before. Two men got out of the truck and started working around the area. Then more trucks came with more men. Bigger trucks came too! The men worked and shouted, and played horrible music. Tank hid behind his little rock, hoping the men wouldn't see him.

The men worked and worked. It looked as though they were building something there. Suddenly, Tank saw one of the biggest trucks with the biggest tires coming straight toward his puddle. The baby turtle dove down into the muddy bottom of his little puddle and tried to bury himself the best he could. It was no good.

The tires were very large. As it splashed through Tank's puddle, the little turtle was wedged in between the treads of the enormous tire. He'd just managed to tuck his head into his shell. Quickly, he pulled his front legs inside. Just as he was about to secure his final hind leg, the tire turned and it was badly squished. Still covered in mud and unable to get free, Tank went for a ride.

Tank traveled for miles. He wasn't sure how far he'd gone. It felt like hours before he stopped. The mud dried around him. Tank himself began to dry. Tank was thirsty, and scared. He eventually didn't feel well. He dozed off into a sickly, dizzy slumber.

Tank, now encapsulated in a dry clump of dirt, was somehow dislodged from the tread of the tire. He was lying helpless in the middle of the floor of some kind of work shop with even more men. These men were working too. They walked by him so many times, and none of them noticed him.

Time went on, and the men worked on not noticing the little turtle. Then one man did see something strange. The man thought there was something odd about a clump of dirt in the middle of the shop floor. He walked over to examine it. That's how he found Tank.

"It's a baby turtle!" The man exclaimed.

The man knew the baby turtle was in trouble. He was a water turtle, and he was very dry. Tank couldn't move. The man thought it might have been too late to save the little guy. Still he walked Tank to a sink and started to rinse the dirt off of him. After a few minutes in the water, Tank finally started to move. He was alive! The man was happy he was able to save a baby turtle.

The man had planned to release Tank back into the wild. However, before he could, he noticed Tank's injured leg. The man didn't think that a turtle with an injury like that stood a very good chance at survival in the wild. He decided to take the turtle home with him. He called his wife and told her to find a container for the turtle.

With the help of his family, the man was able to create a nice environment for Tank. They researched the type of turtle and how to properly care for him for days. They improved his new home, and bought him some turtle food. Tanks new family loved him very much and made him happy in his new home.

And that is the story of how Tank the Traveling Turtle traveled home.

The End

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story. There's more where that came from so check back soon! Please share this story if you liked reading it, and leave me a comment to tell me what you think. I'll look forward to receiving your feedback. Until next time!

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