Saturday, April 26, 2014

SHORT - Micro Flash Fiction: In the Beginning... Part I

In The Beginning...
©Mimi Wolske, March-April 2014
All Rights Reserved

The report sent to me stated on line 49:

It was created from some sort of organic life substance, but there was intelligence behind its creation.

Good God! It was everything that was against nature as humans know it and I wonder what the hell I'm going to do if this one evolves into something else on my watch.

It can only be referred to as the Big Bang of the Brain.

Those words pop out on line 129 because I never subscribed to the Big Bang theory. I know; that puts me with all those religious fanatics of past centuries just before the war. But, I mean, chimps have problems with the abstract—even when they are taught our language, so how could I believe? Okay, I'll give you Dali. That man was surreal enough to have gone through some sort of mythological bang or intervention by ETs.

"You have to be kidding!" I throw the report on the ground. In all probability, this thing in my partner's arms is going to have the same DNA as humans. Seriously. These theorists and scientists want me to believe some alien genes were grafted into humans by the very beings this thing was spawned from?

"I did not come from that!" I grumble, and I spin to face Ren and the dead monster lying behind him. I point a nervous finger at thing on the ground.

Renardo Gumbo is the name Ren gave me when we first met, but we both know I don't believe him. He says, "How can you say that? Just look at this baby. It looks every bit as human as you."

For a single guy, he's holding that thing pretty confidently. But, Ren isn't one of those pre-twenty-fourth century macho least not when it's just the two of us.

"I need proof, not theory," I complain, and reach into my bag. I need my drugs; I'm getting what the medical authority can only call something close to a migraine. Pointing at the dead thing that had given birth to the surviving thing in Ren's arms, I say, "It's going to grow up and look like that!"

I pop two Topamax tabs and swallow. It's an antiseizure med, but they'd prescribed all the Triptans before any medical authority would admit nothing seemed to work. Damn! I kept telling them that. I'll never understand why doctors don't listen.

My names Morgan, I'm thirty-two, still single—by choice, thank you very much—and work for INALSEAD. That's the acronym for International Alien Search and Detain. It's sort of like the bounty hunters of twentieth and twenty-first centuries, only we go after beings who mate with humans.

Some human guys get high and they'll screw anything. Even an ugly alien.

It's the male aliens that scare me. Well, I've seen the length of their reproductive organ. Good Lord! It must be two feet long.

Blaahhhhh. That kind of crap gives me the shivers and makes me want to puke.

Well, in the final analysis, it doesn't matter what I think. Alien sex is against international law.

"Man! I never knew you were prejudice!" He shakes his head and exhales a heavy sigh of disbelief. "Man!"

His laser gun slings low on his hip, he draws that little being closer to his chest, turns his back to me, and walks away. He couldn't look further from some modern-day cowboy rounding up aliens.

"Where you going? Get back here!"

"I'm taking this baby to the ship where it's warm and where I can find something to wrap it in."

We round up law-breaking aliens, not alien orphans. I can see Ren getting too attached and I have to figure out a way to get rid of that thing without seeming I have any animosity towards its.

Its kind. Ha! Blasted aliens went from simple bacteria-like organisms to beings far more complex than humans. They brought their diseases to this planet and killed off about a third of the world's population, and not even the strongest anti-alien-biotic works on them. After two centuries, we're still trying to coexist. They're just existing.

Enough postulating. I take off in a walk-run over the large rocks so I can catch up with them.

"You know that thing has a dad that's probably still living—if its mother didn't eat him."

Ren ignores me and keeps walking. We're close to the ship when he rounds on me. His head cocks to one side and by the look in his eyes, I know I'd give into any request from him.


"They don't eat us and you know that. Your prejudice is still showing. Or, should I say your ignorance?"

"Fine! Sorry. You just don't understand what it's like trying to find your place in this world when you're half alien, half human."

I think the Topamax is beginning to kick in. I have that distinctive ear ringing and it's becoming difficult to concentrate and keep focused. God, I love drugs that work.

"If you really mean that, you'll marry me and then we can adopt this cutie."

I make a dead stop in my tracks.


To Ren, who's one of the few men on this planet who's a one-hundred-percent-certified-card-carrying human being? Is he serious?

"Are you serious?"

To Be Continued

POLITICAL MUSINGS: Why A Constitutional Convention?

©Why A Constitution Convention?
Mimi Wolske, April 2014
All Rights Reserved

What's going on do you suppose?
Do you know what's proposed?
Oh, I totally expressed curiosity
At the gathering of states, you see,
For the purpose of amending
Our Constitution...I'm sending
them note: NOT sure I endorse this idea
That's gaining traction in Arizona.
There could be the possibility
Of myriad mayhem. I'm wary.
IMHO, making all members of
Congress subject, not above,
The laws of this country
Is a wonderful idea; am I too overwrought
Believing calling a Constitutional Convention is not?

DID YOU KNOW THAT pursuant to Article 5 of the US Constitution, if 2/3rds of the states call for such a convention, (meaning 34 states) it MUST take place in such a convention and that the ENTIRE Constitution is subject to review and can be altered and changed? This could be everything from installing “social justice” to the dissolution of the federal government. Everything is on the table as if we were back in 1776 Philadelphia.

This is an unprecedented event to amend the U.S. Constitution emerging from the states. Normally, Congress proposes a bill to amend the Constitution as was the case with income tax. KEEP THIS ONE ON YOUR RADAR – we are looking at the potential for real change good or bad...

Tuesday, April 22, 2014


 by Mimi Wolske, April, 2014
All Rights Reserved

"You're not smarter than me." Beaming with pride, her eyebrows arched, Jen offered Lindsay a smirk.

Lindsay shrugged a shoulder. "I not me, and you could be correct, but I seriously doubt it. Besides, I'm braver and have more muscle," she said, and raised her right arm, bent ninety degrees at the elbow, and flexed her bicep.

Laughing and pointing her index finger at the small bump, Jen said, "Mine were bigger than that when I was two."

Lindsay knew that was probably true. Her cousin had more shape than any girl she could think of, so, it only stood to reason some of those curves must be muscle. She angled her head, looked at the pathetic muscle straining to look larger, raised both arms over her head, performed a cartwheel that ended with a roundoff, she stood straight and said, "Well, I'm prettier than you."

She immediately was sorry she said that. Jen's fat cheeks, chubby arms, and obese belly distracted from a softness and even a prettiness in her face. Her almond-shaped eyes, as bright and blue as the Mediterranean Sea, had the most luscious, thick, and long lashes that could draw a stranger into them—if anyone ever took time to get pass the  pudginess.

"Oh! I'm sorry Jen." Lindsay flushed an embarrassed reddish-pink.

"I know I'm portly. My step-sisters are even fatter, but Gail tells me every time we all sit down to eat just what a pig I am."

"Ohhh, what a bitch! You couldn't be more right on about those Precious Princess Pigs."

Jen took one of Lindsay's hands in hers and handed her a carved comb of ivory and boar hair. "Here; I want you to have this."

Lindsay's mouth opened into a perfect O. "Oh, Jen, this is beautiful." Her eyes traveled to Jen's.

"It was my mother's. She gave it to me before she died."

"I can't take it. Here."

She tried to hand it back to her cousin, but Jen shook her head.

"I want you to have it."

"But I can't. It was your mother's, not mine. You can't just give it away."

"Please, Linds, take it. And, I'm not giving it away. I'm giving it to you."

"I'll put it somewhere safe and it will be yours whenever you wish to have it back."

Lindsay shrugged out of the strap that hung diagonally across one shoulder and she opened her leather bag attached to the two ends of that strap. Placing the comb carefully in an empty pocket, she glanced at Jen. She had to be certain her favorite relative was not teasing her. But, Jen turned her back to Lindsay and raised her hand level with where Lindsay imagined her eyes were.

Jen was crying?

"I hate Gail," Jen said as she spun on the heel of one foot and faced Lindsay. "I hate her. Do you wanna know why?"

"Okay. Why?"

"Because she wants me to call her mom. I'll never call her mom and I told her that. So, she convinced Dad to send me away to school. Not her girls, though. Oh, no; not those spoiled pigs."

"Is Uncle Dick going to do it? Send you away?"

Jen nodded.

"The bastard," Lindsay ground out between clenched teeth.

"I hate her. She's like the wicked witch who has so much power that Dad doesn't even know what she's doing to him."

"She only has power if you believe it. It's an ancient trick—a riddle would be more appropriate, I believe—of the power game. You see, there was this a religious leader, a king, and a woman of unequalled wealth. Standing in front of all three was a mercenary. Each of the three commanded the mercenary to kill the other two. Do you know who lived and who died?"

Jen's eyebrows were drawn close together. "I guess it depended on the mercenary; didn't it?"

"Why? He didn't have a crown or any wealth to speak of and he wasn't in any religion's favor or in favor with any of their gods."

"I don't know what you expect me to say, but the mercenary had weapons and he had his own power over life and death."

"Well, consider this. If we are to believe that mercenaries rule, then why do we pretend kings and other leaders of countries hold all of the power?"

"I don't like stupid riddles," Jen complained.

Lindsay sighed and smiled. "Can't you see that power exists where people believe it exists? If you believe your step-mother holds so much power over Uncle Dick, then she does. But, if you don't offer such belief to her, then it is you who holds the power over your father."

Jen stood akimbo and crossed her arms. "I still don't like riddles."

"Then think of it as a trick, Jen. A shadow, the same as Aunt Gail is a shadow of your mom. Aunt Gail has no power and she knows it. You have the power and it scares her. So, what does she do? She convinces Uncle Dick to send you away. She probably had to make some sort of bargain or offer him something she knew he'd really want."

"But I'm just a kid. I have no power."

"Yes you do. You have your father's love and with that love, you cast a very large shadow."

Monday, April 21, 2014

POETRY—LOVE: Addicted to His Love

©Addicted to His Love
Mimi Wolske, April 2014
All Rights Reserved

She wasn't one of those;
you know the type...
they never experience
negative consequences
of their addiction. She knew
when she crossed the line.

Her addiction was gradual—
in the beginning
it was sporadic,
then it became something
she wanted monthly;
eventually she needed it daily.

To fulfill her needs,
she began to rely on it...
it calmed her, energized and
balanced her emotionally...
until it was important to her.

It was more than sweaty palms,
a dry mouth, and a
fluttering heart; she was thinking
of him day and night, night and day.
Her addiction became passion,
a rush of pleasure, a deep bonding.

Feelings of attachment
deepened, affection
increased, bonding was all
and it became her analgesic;
the stronger love grew,
the more powerful its affects.

She was addicted to his love;
it motivated her;
happiness and euphoria
were stimulated; she was
more productive and she enjoyed
the rewarding experiences he gave her.

They became best friends,
confidants, and lovers.
She knew from the point
they began sharing secrets that
the line had been crossed and they were
attracted to each other like lode stones.

She remembered
as if it was yesterday
when she first felt his breath and
heard his voice that resonated and
made her feel euphoric and desired—
she'd be lost without him and his love.

She came to know him,
know exactly what
he liked and what pleased him,
she knew what he did not like...
he was a combination of gentleman
warrior and a happy, little boy.

When someone tried to
do something bad to her,
he'd get angry and protect and defend her;
he always knew what to do no matter
the difficulty, the problem, or situation,
he always had the right answer—Love For Her.

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