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Timpanac and Ucaganos [Jun. 8th, 2006|02:35 pm]
Scribite -- Write, you!

sahuarita
(This morning the dawn was beautiful as I was driving to work -- all rosy-pink, backlit mountains. There were white and peach cotton clouds wreathing the top of Timpanogos, which to me is the ideal mountain. Tall peaks, rugged faces, snow-cloaked heights... and a cool backstory to go with it. If the snippet leaves you confused, ask, and I'll explain the story in more detail.)

The dawn fell coldly on the mountain face, shifting hues of pink and yellow. Ucaganos had forgotten how to rejoice in the dawn in her long rest upon the mountain top, stone blankets falling in harsh folds to either side of her. Though the snow would slip and melt away for a few months before returning, the warmth never penetrated deeper, never touched her deadening heart.

She had fallen away from time over the last thousand years, caring little as her people fled the valley that had been her home, hardly noticing as homes and roads began to weigh down her blankets. The present was as a dream. Her dreams were where she lived, where she felt and loved again.

Yet each dream ended with a nightmare, a repeating reel of Timpanac's last moments. Each time she saw his fall from the mountain face, his broken body on the rocks below, her heart clenched once more in hard agony. It was nearly all stone now. She forgot the laughter and joy of her love, and all was pain and grief. Why had she even fallen in love in the first place? And why with Timpanac, whom everyone else hated?

Because he was beautiful, she remembered. And he was strong and brave, and he laughed with white teeth. Around him I could be myself -- truly myself. I always knew what to say, or not to say. I could have been with him forever.

Dew-heavy, thick clouds gathered around her. They pressed to her as though in a lover's embrace, and for a moment her heart unclenched, and she longed to turn her face to the touch.

Ucaganos.

A tear -- a rivulet of snow-melt -- ran down her granite cheek. The echo of the wind through the canyon put her in mind of his voice, soft and low.

Ucaganos, awaken. Open your eyes and see.

She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to linger in a dream that wasn't a nightmare, to continue to feel his touch and hear his voice whispering into her hair.

Are you going to just lie there?

She could hear the gentle mocking laughter in his voice, and smiled in her half-sleep. Perhaps she could wake up, just for a little. The clouds felt so soft around her. Raising her eyelids was a task more difficult than she'd expected -- the centuries of sleep had weakened her. She felt as though she were being crushed, smothered by the weight of her own skin.

With a gasp, at last Ucaganos awakened, blinking in the pale, rosy light.

Timpanac smiled at her in the cloud, and stretched for his hand to her.

She laughed, suddenly filled with the strength and joy she thought she had forgotten. She took his hand and then stood up to meet him, shaking off her blankets and the dust of the years.

This is Channel Thirteen news, bringing you up-to-the-minute coverage of the earthquake in Utah County. Our choppers are at the scene and you can see that the upheaval has been incredible. The whole face of mount Timpanogos has been drastically altered. Rod, what can you tell our viewers...
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Scooterness! [Jun. 7th, 2006|06:22 pm]
Scribite -- Write, you!

sahuarita
(For today, I am obsessed with scooters. So today my snippet will be about a scooter. Because I tried to think of something else to write about and nothing came.)

He pulled up to the light, all black leather and tattoos, the very epitome of biker. His Rebel hummed beneath him, throttle anxious to open up and roar.

She puttered up alongside, blonde whisps of hair straggling outside of her helmet. She put a foot down to steady herself.

He looked over and laughed. The little motor scooter looked like a toy next to the chrome guts of his engine.

She beamed a smile in return, though most of her face was hidden by the curve of her helmet and her oversized aviator sunglasses. The wind tugged at her skirt.

The light was going to turn green any moment. He revved his engine, a throaty challenge.

Her engine purred in return, and her smile turned impish, mischevious.

The light turned green.

He grinned and turned the accelerator, his bike leaping forward through the intersection.

Her pink scooter dashed forward as well, though next to the motorbike's eager advance its movement seemed sedate, tame.

He might've left her in the dust. He might've continued on to his destination. But the thought of the pink scooter and the wind whipping her skirt around her legs tugged at his mind. He slowed down.

She pulled up alongside him in the right lane.

The wind was too loud in their ears, but all was communicated with smiles and a gesture. They pulled into the next gas station.

She switched off the engine and pushed down the kickstand. Her hair tangled around her face as she pulled off her helmet.

He looked at her. She wasn't as pretty as he'd thought she'd be. It must have been the scooter.

"So what did you want?" she asked, balancing her helmet against her hip.

"Um... well. What kind of scooter is that? Is it a Vespa?"

"No, it's a Stella."

"Oh."

"Was that all you needed?"

"Um... yeah. Thanks!"

She smiled as she watched him drive away.
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Eva snippet [Jun. 6th, 2006|10:16 pm]
Scribite -- Write, you!

sahuarita
(Sorry it's late! I've been biz-ee!)

She leaned over the maze with a little smile of satisfaction. It was funny. No matter how advanced technology became, there were still some things that never got left behind. So Eva stood in a room pressurized and sealed against empty space just a few meters away, orbiting a distant planet, watching her rats scurry through the maze.

One of the rats found the pellet of food that waited at the end of the maze, and the time was automatically noted in the logbooks.

Eva moved all the rats back to the beginning of the maze and reset the grid. She was surprised at how nervous she felt, adjusting the pitch on her harmonic pipe just one more time. There was no reason to feel so keyed up. This would probably be just like all the other trials, all the other useless, failed experiments. Her heart chugged with anticipation. What if it did work? It would be nice to stop having to constantly justify her presence on the Eden project.

She hit the button to release the rats. This time, the button was wired not only to the door that would let them out into the maze, but also to the pipe. It hummed, a low and harmonious chord that wrapped around her like a warm blanket and hot cocoa on a snowy day.

As one, the rats surged, moved forward, running with an urgency that they had never before shown. They fairly flew through the maze. One of the slower ones got trapped at a dead end, and rather than back up and rejoin the rest of his brethren, he threw himself again and again against the cold metal divider.

Eva held her breath. The rats in the lead reached the end of the maze. There was no food pellet there to reward them, only the speaker that carried the sounds of the pipe. They threw themselves upon it, and the logbook recorded the time. She looked at it, and released her breath in one loud happy sigh. It was a huge effect. Nearly twice as fast as the maze had ever been run -- including the times the floor had been electrified to spur them along. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry or dance. Her knees were trembling.

The sound was interrupted by increasingly loud thumping. Curious, she searched the maze for the source of it. The same slow rat that had been caught in the dead end was still throwing himself against the barrier with furious intensity. She winced at the attempt. She reached over to switch off the sound of the pipe. Just as Eva moved her arm, the rat threw itself against the barrier for the last time with desparate speed. The ethereal tones of the pipe faded away just as its neck snapped, and it fell back against the floor of the maze, still jerking and quivering.

She looked away, the victory of the moment souring in her stomach.

The door opened, and Dano walked in, still wearing the sterile suit he always wore when working. He seemed rather confused.

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no..." He trailed off vaguely, looking around the room as though something was missing. "I, uh ... just wanted to see my wife, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No." She laughed, leaning up to kiss him quickly. "Nothing at all."

(PS. 10 points if you can guess the fairytale -- shouldn't be hard)
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Maren Snippet [Jun. 5th, 2006|05:11 pm]
Scribite -- Write, you!

sahuarita
(This could be much harder than I anticipated, now that I really squint at this idea. Oh well. It's good for me! It's summertime! I'm doing nothing else! Here goes!)

She looked in the bathroom mirror with dull hatred, her small blue eyes staring back at her with tired disgust. The reflection showed a young woman whose athleticism was hidden by at least thirty unwanted pounds, muscles wrapped in fat wrapped in pale, imperfect skin. She pulled her mahogany brown hair back out of her face, inspecting her eyebrows, the zit above her right temple, the ski-slope trajectory of her nose. Maren sighed, turning sideways to regard her profile. Her hands cradled her stomach. First she swelled it outwards. She might be mistaken for a pregnant woman. Then she sucked it back inwards, hands pushing at the excess flesh as though to smooth away the fat.

The bathroom door banged inwards, the music from the club throbbing distantly. At the sound, Maren flinched and jumped back from the mirror, hurrying back to where it no longer caught her reflection.

A trio of energetic girls sashayed in, one still gyrating to the music and singing along. One of her friends pushed her into the wall, and the room shouted with their laughter.

"Ooh, I like that outfit," Jenn said to Maren as she tried to slip by. "But then, you have the body for it. I don't know if I could pull it off."

"Thanks," said Maren, tucking a lock of coppery red behind her ear. "I like your outfit, too." She smiled a little awkwardly, and walked for the door.

Jenn leaned into the mirror to fix her eye make-up, wiping away a smudge with her pinky. She didn't notice the plain, brown-haired girl that passed behind her in the reflection. "God, I would kill to look like her. Redheads have all the fun."
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