“I’m telling you, it’s real. I saw it with my own eyes.” Everyone at the Bar on 8th broke out in laughter. No one ever believed Tommy “Sink” Jones. They called him that because drinking was like pouring liquor down a drain. No one knew how he could drink so much.
“Hey, Sink, I bet it was so tall it could touch the moon?” shouted a voice in the crowd.
“Nice try, Herb. It’s in the caves I’m tellin’ ya. Sleepin’ like a baby.”
Patrons murmured that he was drunk and went about their conversations, unfazed.
“Here there be dragons!”
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The host was late, but his guests were too busy enjoying the fabulous spread of food to notice or care. Pretty soon everyone wondered how they came to be invited.
No one was willing to admit their friendships were fake. They didn’t like the host but it was a secret they would take to their grave. Better to be kind and alive than truthful and dead.
When the host finally arrived, he seemed preoccupied, uneasy. He knew the dangers of inviting all of his frenemies.
Then eight people sat down to dine. Everything was going great till the host died.
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“Going down.” I handed the elevator operator a piece of paper. He didn’t bother opening it. He’d seen the familiar red color before. He knew what it meant. I tried to catch his eye and smile for reassurance that everything was going to be okay but he avoided eye contact as he guided the doors closed, and pushed the button for the sixth floor.
It began a slow descent then lurched to a stop suddenly, and the heart I no longer had, sank. I’d only heard rumors about the sixth floor but no one dared to speculate further.
Doors opened.
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It has been a while since I purchased these two items but I waited this long to share them because:
I wasn’t sure if anyone would care that I had them.
These might only be important to me and not anyone else.
Okay, so I do enjoy collecting things. At some point I would love to own some small replica of my favorite starships. I have more to come in a later planned supplemental where I will discuss my top 3 starships across all of the Star Trek series. And I realize there are so many things worth collecting, such as the badges, tricorder, and other things like that. I will start with this small thing I got when I saw Wil Wheaton wearing it a few years ago when he hosted Star Trek Day. It was televised due to pandemic reasons, but I was grateful for the opportunity it afforded me to watch and enjoy it. Now that I think about it, perhaps Star Trek Day is always televised and I’m just now jumping in that bandwagon? Either way, I think he was hosting with LeVar Burton’s daughter, Mica Burton, and he wore this:
I managed to find it on Etsy, of course, and purchased it right away. This was several years ago. Fast forward to the start of my journey re-watching The Original Series and I discovered some cool cover art for each episode while on the IMDb. I soon realized after some fast googling that those covers were put together in a book. This book is purchased but I have yet to unbox it. I kid you not. It is in its original packaging. Shrink-wrapped and all. I just can’t bring myself to open it for some reason!
Next up, and this I unboxed just cause I think it’s so great to see on my shelf!
Star Trek chess is probably the one thing aside from keeping Logs and Supplementals that stand the test of time (past, present, and future) within the canon of Star Trek. Having the chess board and learning how to play it was a small goal of mine. I now own the set and I know how to play it as well! Will I ever have someone to play it with? That is the question…
I am far from done with collecting things I want from Star Trek. But I have had to slow down to a stop as I am in the middle of moving into a new space and then renovating the basement for my collections come later. But once I have the space for all the Star Trek I can fit into a fully finished basement! Watch out!
What Star Trek collectible, if any, do you own? Or, what do you wish you did own that you don’t have yet?
My story starts on Main Street. Where lost souls go to be forgotten and dead bodies are disposed of regularly. It’s where I examined her fifth victim. Trussed up on a chair in the middle of the road. He’d been there for days before someone called it in due to the unbearable stench.
That’s my job. Duty bound to catch her before she kills someone really important. This one’s an upgrade from her last four victims. Nice watch. Expensive suit.
In his lapel, one flower. I’m allergic to flowers. But to confirm it’s her I take a sniff. Petunias.
ACHOO!
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“You must let me go, father. I am the only one who can save us, it is prophecy,” said Maylin, the elf daughter of King Goren. She speaks of a prophecy bestowed upon her at birth.
“Hang the damn prophecy. You are my heir and my daughter. Were your mother still alive…” his voice cracked at the memory of his wife.
Maylin placed her hands upon his, “She would not stand in the way of prophecy. She would want me to find the Feathers of Four to save us.”
King Goren nodded in agreement. The child he knew was gone.
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It was heartbreaking news. There was only one thing for her to do. She walked over to her record player, pulled the needle head up and to the right to start it, then dropped.
The familiar crackle before the music started calmed her instantly. A recording of her mother playing the violin. It was a memory so strong she could see her standing in the middle of the living room, three pages of handwritten sheet music on the stand, through her childhood and teen years. But noticeably absent for her wedding and divorce. And now she would join her soon.
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“Eww! What a ssssmelly exisssstence it must be for you to live in ssssuch ssssqualor,” the snake hissed down at a very hungry crocodile. “Not much of a talker, I ssssee.”
The snake slithered down till it was eye-level with the crocodile and noticed its eyes were closed. “Hmm, ssssleeping I ssssee. Typical of sssswamp animalssss.”
A tree branch snapped in the distance, making the snake’s eyes dart in its general direction. More of its long body uncoiling. Then snap!
The crocodile lowered its head back into the swamp, waiting for the next smart snake to pay it a visit.
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In a bedroom is a boy who should be asleep. Instead, he sits at his large open window, staring up at the moon, wishing he could fly. If only he could just reach out his hand and touch it. He would race the shooting stars and finally be free.
A loud snore from the bedroom next door startles him and he falls out! His fingers clutch the ledge.
Suddenly, he sees a star fall from the sky and hover over his head. “Let go, Peter.”
He opens his hand. The rush of air and a star follows his fast descent.
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