Posted in M.A.L.C.O.L.M, Original Fiction

M.A.l.C.O.L.M. Chapter 9

<=Chapter 8                                          Chapter 10 Coming Soon =>


Olivia slid her key into it’s lock, blinking rapidly, brain struggling to process exactly what was happening. She could feel M.A.L.C.O.L.M’s presence behind her, ever nerve ending on fire, overly aware of him.

After an embarrassingly long time of struggling with her door, it finally swung open and she stumbled in. Her eyes were glued to M.A.L.C.O.L.M as he slowly walked into her apartment, eyes roaming over everything as if he was cataloging it away, filing the information somewhere safe, as it it were special. She bent down, slipping one foot free of her heel, and then the other. We she straightened she nearly fell on her ass, M.A.L.C.O.L.M’s watching her intently as if mesmerized by her ordinary display.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, “Well…uh make yourself at home, I am going to change into my work out clothes, I’ll be out in a minute and then we can go.”

Continue reading “M.A.l.C.O.L.M. Chapter 9”

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Posted in M.A.L.C.O.L.M, Original Fiction

M.A.L.C.O.L.M. Chapter 8

<=Chapter 7                                                                          Chapter 9 coming Soon  =>


Following morning:

She pursed her lips, eye narrowing, head tilting, staring intently at the objet of her fixation.

“Olivia? What are you doing?”

Her eyes flickered briefly in the direction of the interruption and she spotted Millie one of the sales reps. Millie was peering at her curiously, large doe eyes wide and open, her hair was tied up in it’s usually pony tail. Her legs clad in a pair of grey high waisted flare pants, and she wore a white blouse with a similar grey vest over the top, button tightly, accenting her narrow waist.

Olivia’s attention immediately returned to it’s previous target. Millie followed Olivia’s line of sight, and spotted the subject of her spying.

“Ooh the new employee, he’s cute.” she said, giving Olivia and knowing look paired with an eyebrow waggle. “I though you had a boyfriend?”

“Were just dating,” Olivia had to restrain herself from smacking her forehead, hard. Way to be overly eager to clarify. “And besides that’s not it…”

Continue reading “M.A.L.C.O.L.M. Chapter 8”

Posted in Original Fiction, Writing Advice

M.A.L.C.O.L.M Chapter 7

<=Chapter 6                                                                          Chapter 8  =>


Next day

Olivia was exhausted, Addison, the scatter brain, had “forgotten” about all of their five meetings (more like avoided in favor of some unknown project.) and Olivia had to scurry about finding the prototypes that need to be tested. Olivia was pretty sure Ezra would have helped get Addison if he hadn’t gotten an inordinate amount of pleasure watching someone else struggle to control Addison.

Not only did she have to, scurry about all day searching about for prototypes while also making time for her own duties, she then had to deal with the annoyed co-workers, wondering why she was late, hence her exhaustion.

Also, about an hour ago the electricity had gone out because of Addison’s experiment which had yet to turn on, which frustrated Olivia since she was sitting in the dark with a candle no bigger then her hand trying to organize her files on todays tests.

Her body ached, she made the terrible decision of wearing a beautiful pair of heels that pinched uncomfortably in her toes, and her hair tie had broken on her randomly in the middle of the day. The poor tie, too abused to hold out a moment longer, had snapped and all her hair had come tumbling down in the middle of a meeting, said hair tie smacking an older gentleman in the face.

With a muted groan, she stretched her arms stretching high above her head, it was days like these she wondered why she hadn’t gotten a normal job at a normal company. Then she thought about how mind-numbing that would be and recovered quickly. Her dad has always told her “Find a job you love, doing something you can be proud of, because life is short, money is temporary, and you have a life to live, don’t waste it.” A faint smile flickered around her lips at the memory and her fingers brushed against the pendant on her wrist. The bracelet jangled when she reached forward intent on returning to work.

“Tiring day, Miss Moore?” M.A.L.C.O.L.M’s voice asked sounding closer then she would have expected and her heart started beating quicker.

“Oh M.A.L.C.O.L.M, yeah it has been. I am so glad you’re back on. I was really sad when I heard Addison had turned you off for her experiment.” Olivia heard a distinct creak but continued on ignoring it. “How about you M.A.L.C.O.L.M how has your day been?”

“Delightful.”

“Really why?” She heard a shuffled step, and her documents slipped from numb fingers. “M.A.L.C.O.L.M,” she whispered, heart beating painfully loud in her throat. “Is there someone behind me?”

“Yes.”

Olivia froze, features twisted into those of horror. Everyone had gone home, except herself and Ezra, and she could see the light on Ezra’s office down the hall. If she screamed Ezra was bound to hear, and call the cops, Olivia might be killed but Ezra would surely make it. Thousands of other horrible, traumatizing scenarios flashed through her mind as Olivia turned around slowly, hands clenched into fists, preparing for the worst, she considered grabbing her pepper spray. As soon as she caught a glimpse of the figure she jumped into action launching out of her chair and using the momentum to jab him under the chin with her palm.

Despite how perfectly executed the move was the result was abysmal. The intruder remained quite unaffected and Olivia was pretty positive she had just shattered her wrist on the impact. Apparently her self defense classes had been a bust.

Clutching her throbbing wrist she scurried back, moving quickly to place her desk between herself and the stranger.

“Miss Moore! Are you okay?” he asked worried, taking a cautious step forward, features twisted into these of concern.

“I am fine,” she growled, hand fumbling about on her desk, she grabbed the first thing her hand came in contact with, which thankfully ended up being her stapler, instead of say, her pad of post-it notes. She raised her weapon threateningly, grateful for her bare-feet, they would lead to a hasty escape. She took a few stumbling steps back hand outstretched so she didn’t bump into a a table. “Who the hell are you?”

The man rose his large hands in a placating manner, face incredible neutral. She narrowed her eyes peering closely at him. Something about him was off, but it was hard to place. He towered over her, definitely over 6 foot, she was thinking 6’ 3’ but that was an estimate. His blonde hair was short and scruffy, mussed about his head in a delightful manner. His eyes stared at her with a strange intensity that glowed in the darkness, an electric blue color. He had strong very defined features and he was so perfect it almost looked like he had been made. Michelangelo would have been jealous. His skin was creamy white and he was extremely clean shaven, his checks baby smooth, not even the shadow of a beard. He had what looked like lean defined muscles but it was hard to tell under the loose shirt he wore. He was broad shouldered and narrow waisted, and Olivia had the strong urge to discover how she would fit in his arms, and then blushed bright red at the inappropriateness of her thoughts. Lusting after a stranger Olivia, a weird stranger who could possible be here to murder her, her mind shrugged she was a women he was an attractive man the thought had practically created itself.

She couldn’t help but feel something about him was oddly familiar. A ghost of a memory, not exactly his looks but his mannerisms…his voice.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” his eyes wandered over her checking for injuries, lingering on her bare toes, face still that same neutral mask. She wasn’t sure if she should dive for her pepper spray or fall for the harmless act. She so wished to fall for the harmless act.

“I’m Malcolm” he finally responded, once he was positive she was alright. Olivia blinked a few times and shook her head. The pepper spray strategy was starting to sound like a good idea.

“I am sorry, could you repeat yourself I think my punch may have jarred your brain.”

“It’s me Miss Moore. Addison made me a body.” Olivia stared at him for a few moments and was trying to decided whether to faint or hug him. She would have liked to faint but it didn’t seem to be happening.

“Would you elaborate?” she said swallowing her shock down, trying to be rational. This was Addison it was entirely possible she could invent a robot that looked exactly like a freaking human! and now she was hyperventilating.

“Here sit down, you look pale,”

She complied, settling heavily, on the edge of a table knocking over a pile of files. She was to unsettled to notice. “Addison…wh…but…bod…” She snapped her mouth shut, simply staring at him in wonder.

“If you give me a moment I will explain.” Her head bobbed, eyes blinking quickly. “Addison and myself thought it would be useful to have a human body to do stuff in while also being connected to the tower, I could do everything I used to and more now.”

“Do you have any proof you are a robot and not a person who sounds just like M.A.L.C.O.L.M?” Olivia muttered, glaring at him suspiciously, trying to somehow rationalize the situation in her mind.

M.A.L.C.O.L.M smiled warmly at her. “That seems a bit far fetched, Miss Moore,”

“Says the robot.”

He humored her turning so the left side of his head was in view and tugged on his collar revealing a small pattern of glowing blue circles and lines.

“My charger.” he said pointing to it, where it glowed brighter and then dimer, definitely not a tattoo.

“Guessing a regular phone charger won’t work?”

He nodded his head no. ”and since Addison’s the Addison we all know and love, look what she put here,” he said stalking around her desk, closing the distance between them in a matter of moments. Olivia focused on her breathing. He leaned closer so she could see that behind his ear was a bar code with the words Lockwood Industries above it. It was a jab a t Ms. Donovan while also being a claim of ownership.

“Wow. So you’re telling me…Addison Lockwood, created a new, completely high tech robot that looked exactly human just so she wouldn’t have to leave her bed in the morning as early?”

“She’s done more for less.” he said smiling, not actually answering, but appeasing her all the same. Oh god, Olivia’s knees felt weak, she never thought she’d actually see M.A.L.C.O.L.M smiling, way sexier than she would have thought possible.


<=Chapter 6                                                                          Chapter 8  =>

Posted in Literary Analysis

Religious Ambiguity: Predestination in Doctor Faustus

A defining quality of humanity is our curiosity, our overwhelming desire to explain and understand the world around us. Our ambition for knowledge has lead our world into the Age of Information. Many people enjoy comprehending concepts, coming to neat and tidy conclusions; we strongly dislike ambiguity and uncertainty. Even today, the fear of the unknown sways our actions, and keeps us searching for answers. In the year 1604, The Tragical Life of Doctor Faustus was first published; in 1616 a second version was released, and from it’s conception the ideas behind Doctor Faustus have captured the minds of viewers and critics. Christopher Marlowe crafted a brilliant script full of the desire for knowledge, deals with devils, and the question of what it means to truly repent. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the reader, no clear answer can be extracted from Marlowe’s work. Doctor Faustus is full of ambiguity and conflict which leads to questions about what moral lesson Marlowe is trying to imbue his audience with. The idea of repentance in Doctor Faustus is the most ambiguous of all, and one must consider the conflicting religious viewpoints that would have impacted the creation of Faustus and the question of what Marlowe’s own beliefs were. The political conflict and religious ambiguity of the time Marlowe lived in heavily influenced the outcome of the manuscript The Tragical Life of Doctor Faustus, and has lead to many theories and debates over Faustus’ damnation and struggle for repentance. The opposing views of the time lead to conflicting ideas on predestination, salvation, and the power of devils.

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Posted in Flash Fiction, Original Fiction

Memories

In the lines of her face, were the memories of a long life. Etched into each wrinkle and freckle, scar and mark were all the years she had lived. Her experiences and triumphs, failures and mistakes. Each more precious to her than the beauty of her youth had been.

The deep creases at the corner of her lips betrayed the joy she had lived through, the smiles and laughter she had shared.

The line cutting across her throat was from hours hunched over books, head tucked in. The books close to her chest, indenting into her stomach. The weight heavy but the words even more so.

The freckles dusting the paper thin skin of her nose, spoke of the days spent in the sunshine, it’s rays dancing across her flesh, a warm caress, washing her with a gentle feeling of peace. The sun blotted out as a young boy with too quick a smile, and too bright eyes stared down at her, beckoned her to follow him. She never stopped.

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Posted in Flash Fiction, Original Fiction

Unnatural Abilities

 

“End this, end this now,” his voice was a dark supplication. “End all this pain and torment.” His body was broken, the work of her own hands. The necessary work, she whispered to herself, it felt like a hollow truth. Her weary eyes lifted, looking upon all the destruction he had wrought.

Buildings once tall and majestic, looked like broken toy structures, fragile, and cracked, great hunks of cement and mortar littering the streets.

Cars were overturned and upended, golden flames licking at whatever survived in their scorched metal frames. The acrid smell of smoke burning her nostrils.

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Posted in Flash Fiction

The Affection Unit: A Pinch of Delight

Her eyes roamed eagerly over the outside seating of the café, the world colored a dingy brown from the protection of her sunglasses. Her head rested heavily on her palm, the weight of her head digging her elbow into the gleaming wood surface of the table. Her straw made loud sucking sounds as her lips pursed, siphoning up the remaining liquid. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her excitement for the mission to come impossible to cure. It wasn’t as if this was her first mission and she was some novice, she’d been doing this for years…her eagerness for her job never seemed to dissipate.

She glanced at the simple watch attached to her wrist, the leather bands holding it there indenting her skin slightly, she really should loosen it, but then it rattled about so, hitting against her wrist bones. Half past eleven, now only if her assigned partner would arrive on time, this day would be perfect.

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Posted in Literary Analysis

Commodification in Volpone by Ben Jonson

Every character plays a role, be it for good or bad, the protagonist, or the antagonist, or merely the support. They have a purpose and a part to play. In Volpone by Ben Jonson, as one of the two female characters in the play, the character of Celia plays an interesting role. The part she plays is that of the victim, her overwhelming innocence and beauty are intensified to enhance our sympathy for her plight. She is used as an extreme and the most obvious example of the theme of the commodification of the body that Ben Jonson is trying to present.

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