Oolite Bulletins

Some days, it doesn't pay to chew through the restraints...
Ha!
Ha...
Ha?
Well, it was funny the first time I heard it.

Anyways, I need something to do while I am lying here in this medbed, looking like a mutated octopus with tubes and wires sticking out of nearly every part of my anatomy. I can't drink, I can't smoke, I can't play with myself, I don't even get to taste my own food. And I hate those virtual reality tv shows that run between the infomercials twenty four seven! And now that the nurse has learned to keep her bottom out of my reach, what else is there for me to do?!

"Why don't you start a diary?" she says.
"A diary? What am I, some little teenybopper school girl full of imaginary teenage angst?" I says.
I pitched my voice up a scratchy octave. "Dear Diary, today Billy asked me to the senior ZeroGee Dance and Wiggle! I just don't know what to wear!" Ok, Bad Idea! Trying to talk that high makes me cough, and coughing with seven broken ribs and tubes up your... Well, bad idea.

"Well then, what about writing down your adventures? After all, no one ends up in a cellular reconstruction unit, looking like you do, without a story to go along with it. " Nurse Nice Bottom says.
If she would only come a little closer...

"My adventures!?" I stopped grasping at her just out of reach posterior.
"Well, I do have some stories I could tell. Some of 'em are even true..."
Nurse Swishy Hips carefully pulled the data recorder around in front of me so I could reach it.

"There now, do something constructive with those hands of yours." she says as she jumps lightly to the side.
Damn, almost had her that time!
With one last wiggle (she did that one on purpose!) and a sly smile, she left the room.

"Hmm..." I said thoughtfully. "Ya know, there might just be someone or sometwo out there who might like to know my story..." I thought about it for a bit, trying to think of where to start. Naw, ain't no one gonna be interested in hearing about me growin' up. I was bigger than the other kids my age, and was working the fields as soon as I could walk. Didn't have many friends or much schoolin' either for that matter. I learned enough to read and write, but more than that was considered useless on a mutanana farm. But then one day my pa came out while I was working in the field. He had a funny look on his face, and was carrying an envelope...

"What's up pa?" I asked.
What? Oh... Umm... Nothing son, nothing..." Pa sat down in the dirt.
"Pa! You all right?" I asked, 'cause it wasn't normal for pa to go around sittin' in the dirt for no reason...
Hunh? Wa...? Ya son ya, I'm all right." Pa looked at the envelope in his hands.
"So what in the envelope there pa?" I asked.
"I won son... I entered that there silly contest and won..." Pa stared at that envelope as if it might suddenly try to bite him.
"What contest pa? What did you win?"
"On the back of that Mutogen Cereal box... I never really thought I would win... Never thought about what would happen if I did..." He trailed off.
"So what did you win pop? A hover-car? Some money? We could sure use some money right now, that south forty field needs fertilizin' bad, and we..." He cut me off.
"A space ship..." His eyes found mine and looked confused.
"A space ship!?! What the... What kind of space ship? What kind of cereal company gives away a space ship? What are you gonna do with a...? I babbled.
"They're needin' people out there in space." He said. "What with them thargonoids or whatever they're called attacking people, and them space pirates and stuff. They need good people out there to deliver cargo, and hunt down pirates, and kill them thargonoid thingies. So them people what makes the Mutogen cereal is givin' away a free spaceship and 100 credits to get started, and I won..."

I just stared at him for a full thirty seconds, my jaw slack, as I tried to process the information. "So now what pa? You gonna go into space?" I finally managed to ask.
"I never thought I would win son. I just sittin' there readin' the box at breakfast one day, and just sort of filled out the form. Hell, I don't even remember sendin' it in... But I won..."
"Hell boy, I got a farm to run, I can't go runnin' off to no outer space now. And I'm 68 years old son... Too old to be flyin' no space ship..." he paused and looked at me again. "But you're not..."
"Aw hell pa! You're not that old, why you can still out fight and out wor..." I stopped. "...What do you mean I'm not?"
Pa's face had changed. Somehow he looked both a little sad and yet peaceful at the same time.
"Just what I said son. I understand now, this here is an opportunity for you and maybe me both." I furrowed my brows and opened my mouth, but pa never gave me the chance to argue.
"I'm too old to go flying spaceships and fighting them space aliens. But you... Hell son, you're smart as a whip, and strong as a bull like your old man. This here farm is a dead end for you boy, but in space... A man can do most anything!"
"But... but.." I stammered.
"And think boy! If you do it smart, and keep your head down, you could make a few credits! And if you was to send some of those extra credits to your old man once in a while, well then I could fix up this here farm right proper!"
"But... but.." I tried again.
This time he didn't say anything, just sat there looking at me with a bit of a grin on his whiskery old weathered face.
I couldn't think of anything to say.
I was gonna fly a space ship.

Damn his ass!

First off, I have never written anything like this before. Ya, I have some feeble attempts at poetry on DeviantArt, but this is the first time I have ever thought of writing an actual story.
Just like many of you, I have thoroughly enjoyed Mossfoots tales, and not only found myself modeling ships again, but also inspired enough to try my hand at story telling.
But, as I said, this is a first for me. I don't know if it's good, bad, or something in between. ANY constructive criticism is more than welcome at this point!

Damn that Mossfoot? The hell did I do to you?

Well as I mentioned in Pmail, you should have a space between each paragraph, even if said paragraph is 2 words of dialogue. Too cluttered looking otherwise.

For general writing advice, I'll tell you what I even tell my established writers (I'm an editor at Samhain Publishing) - check out Steven King's "On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft." Not only is it a great personal account of the journey King took to be a writer, but the second half is the best creative writing crash course I've ever read (and have re-read several times).

There are plenty of books that teach more, and more that might give more detailed advice, but the brilliance of King's approach is that it doesn't teach you how to be a writer. It gives you some basic skills so you can go out and teach yourself. Like being given a compass and a map and being allowed to choose your own destination and path to get there, rather than being handed a map with a detailed plotted out route to a predetermined location.

Kind of like Elite/Oolite

mossfoot wrote:

Damn that Mossfoot? The hell did I do to you?

You sir, dared to inspire! };]

mossfoot wrote:

Well as I mentioned in Pmail, you should have a space between each paragraph, even if said paragraph is 2 words of dialogue. Too cluttered looking otherwise.

Thank you! I tried, but deciding where to break it up is actually harder than it sounds for some reason! };]

mossfoot wrote:

For general writing advice, I'll tell you what I even tell my established writers (I'm an editor at Samhain Publishing) - check out Steven King's "On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft." Not only is it a great personal account of the journey King took to be a writer, but the second half is the best creative writing crash course I've ever read (and have re-read several times).

There are plenty of books that teach more, and more that might give more detailed advice, but the brilliance of King's approach is that it doesn't teach you how to be a writer. It gives you some basic skills so you can go out and teach yourself. Like being given a compass and a map and being allowed to choose your own destination and path to get there, rather than being handed a map with a detailed plotted out route to a predetermined location.

Kind of like Elite/Oolite

Thank you for the recommendation! I will see if I can turn up Mr. Kings book. I do however, highly doubt that being any type of writer is in my future. };]

Paradox wrote:

mossfoot wrote:

Well as I mentioned in Pmail, you should have a space between each paragraph, even if said paragraph is 2 words of dialogue. Too cluttered looking otherwise.

Thank you! I tried, but deciding where to break it up is actually harder than it sounds for some reason! };]

Shouldn't be. Just think about how you see tabs used in print books and replace that a line break. For example:

"What's up pa?" I asked.

What? Oh... Umm... Nothing son, nothing..." Pa sat down in the dirt.

"Pa! You all right?" I asked, 'cause it wasn't normal for pa to go around sittin' in the dirt for no reason...

"Hunh? Wa...? Ya son ya, I'm all right." Pa looked at the envelope in his hands.

"So what in the envelope there pa?" I asked.

"I won son... I entered that there silly contest and won..." Pa stared at that envelope as if it might suddenly try to bite him.

A very promising start.. moar, pls.

mossfoot wrote:

Paradox wrote:

mossfoot wrote:

Well as I mentioned in Pmail, you should have a space between each paragraph, even if said paragraph is 2 words of dialogue. Too cluttered looking otherwise.

Thank you! I tried, but deciding where to break it up is actually harder than it sounds for some reason! };]

Shouldn't be. Just think about how you see tabs used in print books and replace that a line break. For example:

"What's up pa?" I asked.

What? Oh... Umm... Nothing son, nothing..." Pa sat down in the dirt.

"Pa! You all right?" I asked, 'cause it wasn't normal for pa to go around sittin' in the dirt for no reason...

"Hunh? Wa...? Ya son ya, I'm all right." Pa looked at the envelope in his hands.

"So what in the envelope there pa?" I asked.

"I won son... I entered that there silly contest and won..." Pa stared at that envelope as if it might suddenly try to bite him.

Ok, I think I am getting better at it. Here comes "Chapter Two" };]

Diziet Sma wrote:

A very promising start.. moar, pls.

Thank you my friend. Glad you like. Here is "moar"! };]

Yep, that there was the start of it all. My old man, sitting at the breakfast table, readin' a box of cereal, and enterin' some dang blasted contest to win a freaking SPACE SHIP!

"Would you like something to drink sir?" The suborbital stewardess asked for the second time.

"Hunh wha...? I replied.

You see, I was still a might fuzzy headed with all the things that had been happening to me since that day in the middle of that mutanana field. I had just spent three days bein' poked, prodded, pinched, inspected, examined, and shot full of strange and rather painful "vaccinations" (which no doubt contributed to my current fuzzy headed condition!), all in preparation for my flight to the Lave Galcop space station. And there, I was to finally receive my very own space ship.

"Sir, I said, would you like something to drink? Or perhaps a stimtab?" The stewardess was looking at me a bit worriedly.

"Umm... no, no thank you ma'am" I finally managed to blurt. Was my tongue getting bigger, or was it just a side affect of the drugs?

As the stewardess continued down the isle, I was still coherent enough to note her nice behind in that tight little miniskirt that all the stewardesses wore!

Mutogen Food Corp. was payin' for my first class flight to the Rorcht Space Center in Borksht, and from there, I was to board a shuttle to the orbiting Galcop station. They said there was even going to be some kind of ceremony on the station when they presented me with my ship. They said I might even be on television!

The stewardess was coming back with her little drink cart, and her little skirt. My eyes were glued, my right hand twitched.

I didn't have much experience when it came to women. My ma died when I was four, and livin' out in the "boonies" like we did... Well, we weren't exactly neck deep in women folk out there. Hell, we weren't even ankle deep in 'em.

The only girl I had any experience with at all, was that little Elly May Boureguard. She and her parents had a mutapaya farm about 2 miles through the jungle from us. I used to sneak off from doin' chores and meet up with her down by the abandoned quarry.

When we was little, it was so we could go skinny dippin in the water there. Then, as we got older, swimmin' turned into a pinch and tickle. We would scramble out of our clothes and then race each other to the water. 'Course, as time went on, I began to fall behind on purpose so as to enjoy the view. My, how she would squeal and laugh when I would slap or pinch that little bottom jiggling just in front of me...

"Sir! I asked if you are sure there is nothing I can get you?" The stewardess had stopped next to me on her return trip down the isle.

"Oh! Umm.. No thank you ma'am, I can't rightly think of anything at the moment ma'am." I stammered.

She smiled kindly, and then proceeded towards the back of the transport.

"Attention all passengers! We will be landing at the Rorcht Space Center in just a few minutes. The weather is rainy and wet as usual. We hope you have enjoyed your flight." Came the captains voice over the speaker system.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, and tried to put all thoughts of Elly May, stewardesses and pert little bottoms out of my mind. I was about to be launched into space!

Rorcht Space Center was a crowded, loud, confusing chaos.

Mutogen Food Corp. had sent a "representative" to meet me and conduct me to the ceremony.

At least that's what she said. "She", was one Miss Slavovich. Who at present, was dragging me by the arm through the crowds, accompanied by at least twelve fully armed soldiers, and two cameramen from the planets largest tv network.

The twelve soldiers were not really out of place. Living on a planet run by a single dictator, you tend to see your fair share of military presence, and the two cameramen didn't really bother me at all really. However, Miss Slavovich was an entirely different story.

On a planet comprised mostly of rain forests, mutant/hybrid crop farmers, and military "police", Miss Slavovich shone like a beacon in the night.

She was tall, not quite up to my six feet four inches, but tall for a woman never the less. And she was beautiful!

Again, please bear in mind my limited interaction with the female species. However, at the time I was sure that she had to be the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.

She sparkled... Everywhere. Her dress, her hair, her jewelry (which must have weighed close to two pounds alone), everything about her sparkled. It even looked like she had applied glitter to her skin. And Gygax knows her dress was cut low enough to show far more than her fair share of glitter! Was that a belly button ring?

And all that sparkly, glittery stuff was bouncing along in a most animated way, just in front of me!

My hands twitched.

I was wondering if it might not be considered just a little rude not to acknowledge all those jiggle bits with a little pinch, when we suddenly came to a stop.

Cameraman one pointed his picorecorder at my face. The other, I was pretty sure was pointed about halfway down to Miss Slavovichs' belly button ring...

"All right Mr. Black. May I call you Morgan? Okay Morgan, here is the shuttle that is going to take you to Lave Station and your brand new Cobra Mark Three spaceship. Which was so kindly donated by the Mutogen Food Corporation. Are you excited to be going into space?" She asked, all in one breath.

Cameraman number two and I both watched in awe as she recovered that breath.

"Morgan? Are you excited?" She asked again with an ever so slight grin.

"Oh, umm... ya, sure... Oh! The spaceship, ya, I can hardly wait." Was my witty reply. My eyes clawed their way back up to her face.

"Miss Slavovich, we are ready to leave." Said a man dressed in a pilots uniform.

Once again, I found myself being pulled along by the hand, like a lumpy malformed kite. Up a small set of stairs into the passenger compartment of an equally small shuttle craft. Four chairs, all turned to face one another and the center of the ship. Miss Slavovich sat in one and pulled me down into the seat next to her. Cameraman one and two plopped in the two remaining seats across from us, picorecorders quietly humming as they zeroed in on our faces. Or at least on my face...

"I am sure you would like to thank Mutogen Food Corporation as well as our benevolent supreme leader and Chairman of the Board for Mutogen, Dictator Ragnnosti, for sponsoring such an amazing contest?" The belly button ring asked.

"Wha... Oh uh... Ya, thanks for the ship... And stuff..."

Hey, I never said I was good at makin' speeches.

"Attention passengers, we are about to lift off. Please make sure all loose items as well as your safety belts are secured." Came a voice over the cabin speakers.

I fumbled at my belt, trying to get the ends to match up, but my befuddled brain just wasn't up to the task. My breath caught in my throat as Miss Slavovich reached into my lap and took the buckles from my suddenly numb fingers.

Click went the buckle.

I heard someone gulp. I'm pretty sure it was me.

The belt grew just a little bit tighter.

"There you go Morgan." Miss Slavovich said with a decided smirk.

"I'm sorry if it's a little tight, but you're such a big boy!"

Cameraman two snickered.

I was just about to shoot him a glare, when all of a sudden my skin began to tingle all over, and a low hum enveloped the ship. My stomach flipped upside down and I grabbed for the armrests as I began to... fall?

"Relax Morgan..." Said Miss Slavovich. "It's just the Anti-Grav plates on the bottom of the ship. The field they generate makes your skin tingle. It can be quite... enjoyable, if you let it. They will push us away from the planets gravity until we are high enough for the pilots to kick in the main engines. In the meantime, we will be completely weightless."

Cameraman ones' tie was standing straight up, and cameraman two had to make a quick grab for his hat.

I looked at Miss Slavovich.

She had her head back against the seat with her eyes closed, and a smile playing across her luscious lips.

My eyes fought their way lower.

The lack of gravity was doing things to the front of Miss Slavovichs' dress... I mean, all the floating was making her... Well, she was spectacular to begin with, but now, both of them were...

Someone gulped again. Ya, pretty sure it was me.

Cameraman two snickered.

Cameraman two snickered

As the signoff says, I'm not quite the author, but I've always considered if you write the same way as you tell a 'big one got away' story, it will roll along and keep the reader entertained. If you take yourself too seriously, you lose that lighter playful side that always has the best view of the world (Ooniverse) around you.

And although there may be pauses along the way, don't stop! As Oliver (Dizzie ) Twist says, "Moar pls"

SteveKing wrote:

Cameraman two snickered

As the signoff says, I'm not quite the author, but I've always considered if you write the same way as you tell a 'big one got away' story, it will roll along and keep the reader entertained. If you take yourself too seriously, you lose that lighter playful side that always has the best view of the world (Ooniverse) around you.

And although there may be pauses along the way, don't stop! As Oliver (Dizzie ) Twist says, "Moar pls"

I am humbled that one with your background, is enjoying my attempt at a story, such as it is...

I was telling Dizzy, that this feels so completely bizarre. I feel like I am no longer really writing the story. It's sort of writing itself. I had originally wanted to do a story along the same lines as yours. Just "fleshing out" my experiences in the game as it were. However, it has gone completely off the tracks. I have no more clue than you or Dizzy, as to what is about to happen next. I can "hear" the characters talk and I can "hear" how they would say things (no, not in the actual voices in my head and need mental help sort of way. At least not yet...};]). It's kinda fun, and just kind of bizarre.

As someone who dropped out of high school, and failed english almost every year (in my defense, it was because I was too busy reading to fill out book reports!), I know that I am probably making many monumental grammatical and spelling mistakes (thank Chrome for spell check!). However, I greatly appreciate the fact you have taken time to read, comment, and seemingly enjoy what I am writing. I sincerely thank you!
Here is some "moar". };]

My stomach suddenly plopped back into it's assigned cavity, and the tingling on my skin disappeared as well. Its abrupt absence gave me the goosebumps.

It had a similar affect on Miss Slavovich as well, as was made evident by the thin material of her dress.

I made a conscious effort not to gulp, and ended up coughing instead.

Cameraman two snickered again... One of these days I was gonna belt that guy.

Miss Slavovich placed her hand on my knee. My safety belt suddenly grew even more uncomfortable.

"So Morgan, tell our viewers a little bit about yourself." She said.

"Well ma'am, I reckon there ain't much to tell really. My pa and me work a mutanana farm outside of Gratsky, at least I did until pa won this here contest." I managed to get all that out without a stutter or stammer.

Miss Slavovich gazed into my eyes and gave my knee a little squeeze.

"Fascinating Morgan. And you've never been to space or flown a spaceship before?

Was it my imagination, or had her hand suddenly materialized a few inches higher on my thigh.

"I... Umm... I.. That is to say... Umm... No ,ma'am."

Gulp.

Damn it.

Miss Slavovich leaned forward.

Her dress...

The gap...

I could see...

She really did have glitter everywhere!

"Don't worry Morgan, Mutogen Food Corporation is going to give you all the training you need to fly that big new ship of yours."

Oh ya... Her hand was higher now, a lot higher. As a matter of fact...

"Attention passengers. If you direct your attention out the port windows, you will see the Lave Galcop space station coming into view." Announced the voice from the speakers.

With an almost painful wrench, I turned my head to look out of the window.

My safety belt suddenly loosened.

Swinging into view was a structure so enormous my brain just couldn't grasp it. The surface was composed of giant squares and triangles arranged into a rough sphere, and the whole of it covered with twinkling little lights. A gaping rectangular hole intruded into one of the faces, which I correctly assumed to be docking bay, and around it swarmed at least a dozen spaceships of various sizes and shapes.

"So what do you think Morgan?" Asked Miss Slavovich.

"Oh ma'am, it's magnificent" I breathed.

"Better than me?" She asked in a breathy whisper.

"Oh ma'am... I... Umm... No ma'am... You're... Umm... And your umm... It's just..."

Real smooth.

With a satisfied smile, Miss Slavovich gave my "thigh" one last firm squeeze, sat back in her chair and adjusted her top.

Cameraman number two choked on his snicker when I sent him a murderous glare and clenched my work hardened fist, causing all five knuckles to pop. He even managed to raise his camera up to Miss Slavovichs' face for once.

"Attention passengers, we have been granted expedited docking clearance, and should be docked in the station in just a few minutes."

Once we entered the docking bay, everything became a rather anti-climactic blur. There were dozens of photographers, picorecorders, camera drones, etc. Questions were thrown at me right and left, and my responses were little more than barely intelligible stutters and blurts.

Finally, I was herded along to a room on the outer hull, with it's own window looking out onto the planet far below.

Miss Slavovich and her ever present cameramen had disappeared a while ago. So I suddenly found myself all alone in my room. I sat down on the bed and watched the planet revolving slowly below. My head was spinning a bit after all the chaos, but now the relative silence was almost oppressive, I wondered what pa was doin' right now, and felt a little lonely.

There was a beep from my door.

I waved my hand in front of the sensor plate to open it.

"Compliments of the station manager Mr. Black." Said a spiffy young man, holding a bottle of champagne and a basket of muta-fruit.

"Oh... Umm... Thanks." I said with my usual eloquence.

The spiffy young man gave a nod of his head, and disappeared as the door swooshed shut.

I put the fruit and champagne on the little table beside the bed, and sat down again with a sigh.

There was a beep from my door.

I got up and opened it again.

Another spiffy young man was standing there, this time with a bundle of papers.

"Hello Mr. Black sir." He said. "I need you to sign for this packet sir."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Just the usual station information sir. Escape routes in case of evacuation, evacuation routes in case of a Thargoid attack, what to do in case of a hull breach or fire. The usual sort of thing sir." He said.

I was a long way from home.

After I signed and he left, I put the unopened packet next to the fruit, and once again sat on the bed.

There was another beep from my door.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked a bit impatiently as I motioned the door to open.

She didn't sparkle anymore... She glowed.

Her golden blond hair had been up in a tight glittery glamorous style throughout the day, but now it fell free down her back, tumbling nearly to her waist. Her sparkly gown had been replaced with a semi-sheer red strip of cloth. It fell to the floor both front and back, and yet was completely open on the sides. It appeared to be held in place by nothing more than a tiny silk ribbon, tied high up around her waist. This time, the front slit extended an almost scandalous distance below her adorable belly button ring. Her little feet were bare.

How my eyes managed to make it down as far as her feet, I will never understand.

"Morgan! I said, may I come in?" She evidently repeated.

I have no clue how long I had stood there, staring like the village idiot, but the self satisfied smile on her face, indicated she wasn't all that displeased with my reaction.

"I uh... I uh... I umm..." Yep, still Mr. Smooth.

"Say "yes" Morgan." She said.

"Yes." I said. Then quickly added "Ma'am..."

She stepped into the room, turned, and pushed a button next to the door sensor marked DND.

"There's no one here but you and I now Morgan, lets stop the "ma'am" stuff. My name is Terra."

"Yes Miss Slavovich." I managed to say.

She looked at me.

"Err... sorry. Yes Mis.. Err... Terra." I stuttered.

"You know Morgan, I came from the "boonies" too. My father was a slug hunter in the rain forests when I was young. I remember when I left home, I was pretty nervous and scared." She glided over to the window and looked out at the slowly spinning planet.

"I remember feeling pretty homesick that first night too." She turned and looked up into my eyes.

"Yes ma... Err... Ya, I guess I was feeling a little like that." I was also feeling a little embarrassed about admitting it.

Terra placed a warm hand on my chest. I felt like someone switched in the anti-grav plates again. Then, she walked over to the table and picked up the bottle of champagne.

"Do you mind if I open this?"She asked.

"Err... No ma... Err no. You go right ahead, and help yourself to some of that there fruit too if you've a mind to!" I said magnanimously.

Terra smiled as she set out two glasses that had been nestled in among the fruit, and after filling both glasses, brought them over and handed one to me. Then she curled one shapely calf and foot under her and sat on the foot of the bed.

I stood there awkwardly for a moment, then she patted the bed beside her and said. "Sit down Morgan, I won't bite."

I sat on the bed next to her and took a sip of the champagne.

"Well, what do you think? Do you like it?" She asked, as she sipped at her own glass.

"Well m... Terra, I reckon I do. It doesn't have the kick of pa's moonshine, but it doesn't suck the air out of your lungs like pa's spirits either." I drained the last of the bubbly liquid in my glass.

Terra laughed as she reached out and refilled my glass.

"Well, what do you know, you are speaking in complete sentences now too!" She giggled as she refilled her own glass.

I grinned and said. "Ya, I can manage one or two when I concentrate."

We both laughed, and afterwards, we talked for a while about life on Lave and growing up wild in the rain forest.

"Morgan, tomorrow after the ceremony, I will be heading back down to my job on the planet. While you, will begin your pilot training, and getting ready to fly your new ship.

I nodded slowly as I looked into her sky blue eyes.

"I can't help with your pilot training Morgan..." She said, as she set her empty glass on the floor and stood up in front of me.

"But I did promise to help you when we were on the shuttle didn't I?" She continued, as she took my empty glass from my hand and set it on the table beside the bed.

"Yes Terra, I reckon you did." I replied, as I watched her intently.

She grasped one end of the tiny silk ribbon that held the wispy red material around her waist.

"But I think I can help you feel a little less lonely on your first night away from home, don't you think Morgan?" She pulled on the ribbon.

"Yes Terra, I reckon you can." I replied a bit huskily.

The ribbon spooled onto the floor.

"Promise me something Morgan." She said as began to slip the wispy red material over head.

"Most anything you want Terra." I whispered.

"Be careful out there Morgan. I don't just mean the Thargoids and pirates. I mean always be careful. Be careful of who you trust and who you talk to. Whether it's on some other space station, or planet, or space-bar, everywhere. Promise me you will be careful."

Her voice was almost pleading.

"I promise Terra." I said solemnly.

The wispy red cloth followed the ribbon to the floor.

Paradox wrote:

The ribbon spooled onto the floor... The wispy red cloth followed the ribbon to the floor

Great way to lead into the main story. Just the right amount for the imagination!

Yes, stories have a way of taking on the life of their own, and with the right verb (adjective etc), gives just the right feel for the moment.

well done indeed!!!

a most titillating tale..

I sir demand Moar.... Moar do you hear??

seriously between you and Mossfoot I am enjoying the stories immensely. You have seriously underestimated you talent . I have read a lot of books that are not this interesting....