It's Author Fun

Island Wake Up Call

Ash came to himself blinded by a terrible light, which hurt his eyes. He rolled over onto his belly, and planted his face into his pillow... No, this wasn't a pillow, it was... sand? He accidentally breathed some in and began coughing uncontrollably. He would have to get his bearings, but first he'd have to get his senses. He rose to his hands and knees and calmed his mind, slowed his heart rate. Focus. That's what he needed right now. His eyes still hurt too much to open, but he didn't need them just yet.

Birds. Sand. Wind in trees. Water washing ashore in a quiet steady cadence. He was back on the island? The sand between his fingers was cold to the touch, but the sun on his back and face was quite warm. These had to be white sand islands. He was back to the training center? Had he ever left? What happened.... wait... What is that?

***********

Eta was thrashing around, blindly looking for something or someone to attack. It was only after she ran out of breath that she realized she was alone. Her eyesight was coming back, but it was still much to bright to fully open her eyes, even with the clothe that she'd tied around her face to block the sun.

All she could see was trees, water, sand. Now that she was too tired to fight.... nothing... she could hear the sounds of the island herself. There was one sound that was not familiar... A rustling in the trees, less than half a klick away.

****************

Sir

What is it seargent?!

Motion sensors dedect movement on one of the south islands.

We haven't trained down there in months. Are you sure it's not those stupid Monkey's again?

We checked sir, camera footage is rough from the distance, but we captured this image.

Well I'll be... Get a unit down there now, and go in armed, we don't know what to expect.

Yes sir

With that the door closed and left the General alone. Where have those two been?!

******

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Declaration!

I'm going to write a novel and publish it.

Hills

The rolling hills of the 170 hwy rose and fell to his left as he sauntered off to work.

Dark Room - Ashlund

10/18/14 | Writing Practice

Once seated the light was immediately absent. Completely absent. The only thing Ash could see was the flashes of white dots dancing around his eyes from having been in the light moments earlier. What utter and stark contrast to the room he was in. The sound... or lack of sound... in this room was astonishing. It was though sound itself was being sucked out. He could hear nothing but a ringing for the first few minutes. After a while, the ringing subsided and he could hear the beating of his own heart, and the sloshing of bodily fluids throughout his own body.

Eventually, after what felt like an hour, but it was probably only minutes, he found that even these sounds faded into the background of his attention. He could almost hear his own thoughts. As though that voice in his head, that was always present, telling him what to do, and where to go, and how to act, watch out for that... don't say that... oh man, why did you do that for? It was as though the inner voice became almost audible. As though he could hear himself think. Or rather as though his thoughts could speak to him audibly. It was an odd sensation, but occupying his mind was the only thing he could do. He'd never admit it to a captor, but solitary confinement was his favorite part of being a prisoner of war. He enjoyed self time, and silence. Accusation follows on the heals of this. Anytime he's alone, it starts. What you should have done differently.

His concentration snapped into focus suddenly with the feeling that he was not alone in this room. He'd known before he entered the room that camera, most likely equipped with monitoring capabilities were on him, and he was being observed... but that wasn't it. He felt the air in the room change, as though someone had entered the room with him. He could hear breathing in the room. He wasn't tied to the chair, he could get up, but where to? He couldn't see, he'd memorized the layout though. He knew the entrance he came from, and he didn't see any other known entry ways. Ash slowed his breathing, and observed with his four remaining senses for any clue as to the whereabouts and intention of the new participant.

***************************

Dr... It's beginning... the biometrics just spiked. The presence is there...

Good, good... let's see how he does. The previous test subjects had no where near the discipline that Mr. Ashlund does. This should be an interesting observation.

***************************

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It's Author Fun By Darrell Wolfe

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Street Noise

He sat alone in a leather bound chair, in the corner. Always in the keep your back to the wall, be near the most exits, but never too visible. Training never stopped. Even here, in Podunk, Nowhere, USA. He had specifically looked for a city that was large enough to blend into, small enough to be off radar, and not a frequent tourist area. He enjoyed the northwest, so Ash chose a city he'd never been to, in the right quadrant of the country.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ash thought he saw two men dressed in all black duck behind a car. " Now I know I need a his vacation. I'm seeing black ops teams in small town Oregon. "

Some commotion outside broke his self absorbed train of thought... People were turning and staring. He heard yelling. Ash stepped outside to see what wax happening. An man in torn clothes and graying beard, was standing on top of a pick up truck screaming at noon one in particular.

"You always did love Mother best... I know... That's why... That's why she died you know... You couldn't keep your mouth shut..."

On he went, incoherently. Ash took a step closer, the then the man turned to him and in a deeper, more gutteral voice: "YOU... Child of the King... What do you want with us? You ho have seen?"

As the Looney man stood staring a large creature suddenly came into view, as though he were made of smoke taking form. It was 8 feet tall , at least. But it had three heads on its neck, many more protruding from various parts of its body. It was staring at Ash directly. As it tilted it's head to the left, the gray haired loon tilted in unison. They both tilted their heads back and laughed menacingly, "He doesn't even know what he is.... Ha ha ha ha..."

With that the creature disappeared and the man leaped down off the truck, and ran at Ash. It took all his training to keep from being pinned down. The wiry man was stronger than he looked. Ash was so surprised that he let out a "Jesus!" But it also came from down inside of him too, as though he meant to say it,but didn't premeditate it.

The wiry man stepped back as though he had been punched. That was all Ash needed. In 30 seconds he had the man hog tied with his own belt. By now the police were just arriving. "Charlie's at it again... take him in..." Three fairly big men put a muzzle on the old man,and threw him, rather harshly, into the back of the squad car. Turning to Ash, the more seasoned cop replied "Those were some moves Marine. Would you like to press charges?"

" USAF, and no... No harm done."

"You be in town long? We could use a guy like you on the team."

"Just on vacation. Thanks."

With a small town friendly waive and smile, the squad cars took off North. Ash was left non the worse for wear... On the outside anyway..." He started to get up and walk away when he realized he'd dropped his coffee cup in all the commotion. It was spilled all over the floor.

"Why don't you let me get you another one, on the house." Ash looked up to see a man in a plaid shirt and jeans sitting nearby.

"My name is Jim Struthers, this is my coffee shop, it's on the house."

White Noise Notes | 09/16/14

White Noise Notes:

Science experiments need replication and controls. They would both be in the same process. White room first, then dark room.

Possibly they don't remember being in the room? They have flash backs to it later?

Or they do go through the room, with some results, but then experience results after they leave?

They are both found on the beach/island after X hours? (48 hours?) The subdermal beacons went dark for that long, then reappear next to each other on a different island than the one's they were dropped off on, both were on different islands, found on the same third island.

They return to normal life, in different states, but end up needing to talk to each other about the experiences they are having.

They end up on a wild adventure to find the one who did this to them. They are being followed by someone, but never quite see them. They are seeing things that "aren't there" so they attribute the people following them to this new phenomenon.

The end? Unkown... ties to a new story? Most likely...

Gypsies
Cowboys
LA Thugs/Mexican Gangs
A retired pastor, a pastor of a large church, a priest???? Maybe not a pastor, maybe a spiritual mentor that doesn't work at a church.... hmm....

Book: White Noise
Series: Phenomenon?

Phenomenon:

A phenomenon (Greek: φαινόμενoν, phainomenon, from the verb φαίνειν, phainein, "to show, shine, appear, to be manifest (or manifest itself)"),^[1] plural phenomena, is any observable occurrence.^[2] Phenomena are often, but not always, understood as 'appearances' or 'experiences'. These are themselves sometimes understood as involving qualia.
The term came into its modern philosophical usage through Immanuel Kant, who contrasted it with the noumenon. In contrast to a phenomenon, a noumenon is not directly accessible to observation. Kant was heavily influenced by Leibniz in this part of his philosophy, in which phenomenon and noumenon serve as interrelated technical terms.

The noumenon /ˈnɒuːmɨnɒn/ is a posited object or event that is known (if at all) without the use of the senses.[1] The term is generally used in contrast with, or in relation to "phenomenon", which refers to anything that appears to, or is an object of, the senses. In Platonic philosophy, the noumenal realm was equated with the world of ideas known to the philosophical mind, in contrast to the phenomenal realm, which was equated with the world of sensory reality, known to the uneducated mind.[2] Much of modern philosophy has generally been skeptical of the possibility of knowledge independent of the senses, and Immanuel Kant gave this point of view its classical version, saying that the noumenal world may exist, but it is completely unknowable to humans. In Kantian philosophy the unknowable noumenon is often linked to the unknowable "thing-in-itself" (Ding an sich, which could also be rendered as "thing-as-such" or "thing per se"), although how to characterize the nature of the relationship is a question yet open to some controversy.

Darrell Wolfe

Midnight

The pavement sings as it's pelted with wetness. The. Midnight song of a Fort Worth summer.

Flashbacks

An explosion knocks him against a wall. He barely sees, through the smoke, men running about, hauling rubble off of men's bodies, checking pulses. He sees some men screaming in pain. Others shouting to one another. He sees them, but all he hears is intense ringing.

Half the mess hall is completely gone, all that is left is fire and rubble. It only takes about 60 seconds for him to snap out of the initial shock. He jumps up. Others will tend to the wounded, as his hearing returns more bombs are hitting other buildings.

This band of head wrapped miscreants has found upgraded weapons, Russian no doubt. Ash shoots out the building, down the road to the artillery unit. He grabs his rifle and heads for the highest building.

He can see the launch area where the rockets are being fired from. He takes a deep breath in and slowly breaths out to stead his body. Through the long range scope he can see about 20 of them. They only have two missile launchers. They have very little cover, firing from open desert, mostly hiding behind their Jeep.

He fires two rounds back to back, taking out both missile launchers, exploding in the handlers face. Ash then begins firing one round after another as the attackers fall like Coke cans on a fence post. The bullets hit their targets with extreme prejudice and quick timing.

Three remain. By the time they realize what has happened they are cowering behind the the vehicle. Jeeps are great vehicles for driving through tough terrain quickly, but they are build light, not armored. He sees one peek through the glass, one shot, gone.

The other two attempt to climb in the vehicle keeping their heads down and drive away. The problem with that, is that both seats are occupied, both seats are easily identifiable. He doesn't need to see them, only the back of their seats. Two. One. The Jeep speeds up as it drives erratically, then crashes into an outcropping of rocks.

Theron Ashlund sat sipping on his large java chip blended ice coffee. Even if it was -20*F outside, it was his favorite drink. Sitting in the Grounded Cafe' Ash stared out the window at nothing in particular. Images flashed before his mind, images of wars, actions taken to defend his homeland.

That was a long time ago, when he was Colonel Theron Ashlund USAF; that was the old Ash. Now he was just Professor Ashlund PhD. Due to his groundbreaking thesis on The Rise and Fall of Terrorist Dictators and his litany of military awards, he could have had any seat in the country. But he chose to be Dean of Military Science at Southern Oregon University (SOU), Ashland OR. It seemed fitting. #RaiderUp! He wanted to escape the lime light of Harvard, Yale, or West Point. Of course his ROTC students still called him Col. Ashlund. But his non military students just knew him as Prof-Ash, which eventually just melded into Profish.

There were very few lectures or spot lights these days. As Dean, Ash's job primarily lay in administrative work and policy, plus a few session counseling the younger professors. He was quite over qualified for the position, but he ran a tight department.

****

Ash noticed the faces of the people he passed as he walked down the street. Hurried. Busy. Faces buried in their smart phones as they walk by. So oblivious to the world around them. He took a deep breath of crisp mountain air. The leaves had begun to fall, most had turned shades of orange and yellow already. Winter was coming.

He turned off the street between two old buildings, and walked up a well worn path into the woods, into refuge from the masses, to home. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but splurged some. 2,500 sqft, 4 bedrooms, a home theater, game room with pool table. Yes sir, he had a fine cabin in the woods. All to himself. How he'd managed to live here ten years and still not have a single friend invited over was mystery to even himself. But he liked things just so. He liked the solitude. At least that's what he told himself when the feelings of loneliness crept in past his shield.

Ash took a seat on his second story balcony, overlooking the hills and lake. He stared at nothing in particular for several minutes. Then laid down in his hammock and fell asleep for the rest of the night. Yes sir, he had a fine cabin.

*************

We're Air Force Special Tactics, and our motto is "First There...That Others May Live."

******

*****

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to make a community with this project. If you would like to add, comment on, critique, or otherwise participate... that would be great!

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A new room. Silence, negative sound.

04/27/2014 Writing Practice

After what seems 10 days, as per the marks on the box, Ash wakes to the sound of his food being delivered for breakfast. He eats in silence. He doesn't even hear the noise they've been pumping into the room for 10 days. When he is done he places his tray on the shelf and it disappears into the wall again.

*Click* The sound in the overhead turns off. A voice, deep and gravely. "Good, good Mr Ashlund. You've done excellent. Now we head to the second phase of our test. In the next room you will find a chair. Please take a seat. You won't be here long. Less than a day by our last calculations. Then you are free to go."

A slit in the wall opens to a dimly lit room, if you could call it that. The floor is stretch chicken wire, over triangles of foam cut at different angles. The walls, ceiling, all made of the same substance. One chair, bolted to the floor. It looks comfortable enough. Like a dentist chair. Seeing no other option, he takes a seat.

The silence is deafening, immediately. If you have ever clapped your hand, and heard the reflections of that clap come back to you from the walls in a room. Imagine that you heard no such reflection. Imagine that it was just the sound of the two hands coming together that came directly to your ear and nothing else. It's negative sound. It's as though the sound is sucked right out of you, so that all you can hear is your own heart beat, and breathing. Even your ears, so accustomed to sound begin to make their own ringing.

Ash takes a seat. The lights are turn out. Cool air is keeping the room a comfortable 74*F.

After the silence of 10 days, all of Ash's racing thoughts of subsided. He's moved past wondering where he is, when he'll leave, he's now just him. Alone with his thoughts. And increasingly, his past.

Alone, in the dark now, with no sound of any kind, negative sound. He sits. Lays back in the reclining dentist chair, and he waits. He waits. He sleeps.

***

Ash... Ash...

He sits up. How long was he asleep? Is he still asleep? How would you know in dark silence?

Ash... we know about you Ash... We know who you are... what you've done... how could you...

Ash shakes his head... the voices vanish. What as that?

***

"He's incredible. Getting a trained military man, accustomed to being alone for days and weeks, a survival expert. He is already outlasted every scientist, street volunteer, and audio geek we've ran through these tests. Many of them didn't make it through the prep room, but we've never had anyone last over and hour, he's been in there for three and just now he's starting to show signs of a dimensional tear. You are a genius!"

"Yes, Dr. I am! That is why you brought me here. To fix this reject project and bring something valuable out of it. Keep me appraised of any changes."

The white lab coated man turned and left the room. His tuft of white hair bouncing along as he walked away.

******

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to make a community with this project. If you would like to add, comment on, critique, or otherwise participate... that would be great!

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It's Author Fun By Darrell Wolfe

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For Non-Fiction writing by Darrell G. Wolfe: Click Here

Circle of Life Cycles

Thus the circle of life cycles; ebbs and flows.

There was a moment in time.

It was that moment.

The moment everything changed.

The change happens. The bud comes forth.

The flower blooms. The flower dies.

The plant appears to die.

But... it comes in circles.

It's not dead.

It's merely hibernating.

Spring comes, winter thaws.

Leaves push forth, new stems, a bud appears.

Thus the circle of life cycles; ebbs and flows.