I sincerely hope y'all are taking my weekly advice and discovering all of the talent available at Science Fiction Fantasy Saturday. Fellow SFFSaturday authors, please forgive my delay in commenting on your works. I'm in the process of moving from San Francisco to Seattle. My internet connections are spotty, at best. Only the wonders of "scheduling" blog posts allow me to get these entries up with any regularity.
Another week, another entry from prisoner 1138. And, yes, fellow geeks will recognize that number as a quiet homage to the worlds of George Lucas.
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Entry 3
The food here sucks. I know, not a very original complaint, from a prisoner especially, but it's been on my mind. Yesterday I screamed "THIS TASTES LIKE DIRT" at my cell wall. The acoustics in here are quite fascinating and served to distract me from the dirt-food. All of our years of technological advances, and we still cannot make protein bars taste like anything except dirt flavored cardboard. My diet consists of a vitamin-protein bar, and instant oatmeal (lukewarm) for breakfast, a protein bar for lunch, and (shocking!) a protein bar for dinner. Of course I get three bottles of water a day. I should be grateful for food--even that which is delivered via a wall chute with mechanical regularity--given the mass starvations on Earth. But, damn it, even a few wormy apples would be better than this crap.
I am prisoner 1138, but my name is Abraham bin Navi
Friday, October 26, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
SFF Saturday 10-20-2012
For more about Prisoner 1138, read here.
For many more forays (by very intelligent people) into the weird, the fantastical, and the universe at large, visit the main SFF Saturday page.
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Entry 2
I'm wondering if writing these notes to my future self makes sense. If I've lost my sanity, and my soul, to such an extent that I need typed words to remind me what is real, will I actually be able to comprehend the words? Maybe I should call these "Letters FOR my sanity". Talking to someone, or writing to someone--even my future self-- is all I really have to do. I could make longer entries, but the tablet battery life is very short. I spend three hours running in circles just to recharge it after 15 minutes of power. They didn't approve my requisition for paper and pencil, so I'm stuck with this crappy tablet. Should count my blessings, meager that they be, and be thankful that I'm not left etching each word into the metal walls. I miss my gadgets, damn it.
I am prisoner 1138, but my name is Abraham bin Navi
For many more forays (by very intelligent people) into the weird, the fantastical, and the universe at large, visit the main SFF Saturday page.
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Entry 2
I'm wondering if writing these notes to my future self makes sense. If I've lost my sanity, and my soul, to such an extent that I need typed words to remind me what is real, will I actually be able to comprehend the words? Maybe I should call these "Letters FOR my sanity". Talking to someone, or writing to someone--even my future self-- is all I really have to do. I could make longer entries, but the tablet battery life is very short. I spend three hours running in circles just to recharge it after 15 minutes of power. They didn't approve my requisition for paper and pencil, so I'm stuck with this crappy tablet. Should count my blessings, meager that they be, and be thankful that I'm not left etching each word into the metal walls. I miss my gadgets, damn it.
I am prisoner 1138, but my name is Abraham bin Navi
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
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