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   This is something I began writing, on a whim, in another thread, inspired by something I read there. Since I plan to continue writing it, whatever 'it' might turn out to be, and I didn't feel it was appropriate to fill that other thread with my off-topic mental rambling, I'm putting it here, in this shiny new, content-appropriate thread.

   I encourage others who may wish to share their writing, rambling, and literary doodling to do so here. Please create a title for your creation, and preface each of your posts with that title, to make it easier for others, your readers, to keep track of.

   In order to keep each page scrollefficient, I plan to put each mass of words between spoiler tags. I ask other potential participants to do the same.

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   The Toaster

   I once had a toaster with an overactive imagination.

   It all began one day as I made my breakfast. I had dropped two pale slices of sourdough into the toaster and pressed down the lever. Then I began making coffee. After starting the brewing process I sat and watched as coffee dripped into the pot, gradually filling it, savoring the aroma as it filled my kitchen.

   I started smelling the toast then, and thought to myself that the coffee must have thrown off my sense of smell. I didn't realize anything was amiss until the toast popped up, looking darker than expected against the fading red-orange of the hot elements.

   I stared at the too-dark slices for a long moment before reaching out and picking one out from the rather ordinary looking appliance. I held the slice of toast between my fingers, turning it over and inspecting both sides. I smelled it.

   A moment of peculiar dizziness flew through my mind, an instant of cognitive dissonance, as I realized what I held between my fingers wasn't sourdough. It was perfectly toasted dark rye.

   Two thoughts then occurred to me at once, which made me giggle.

   One, as far as I knew, I wasn't in possession of any dark rye loaves. In fact I was overdue for a market run, having run out of several things, earl grey, cheese, pub mustard, fresh orange. In any event, I didn't make a habit of keeping dark rye on hand.

   Two, realizing I had two warm, perfectly toasted slices of dark rye struck me as particularly inconvenient, because all I had on hand to put on them was peanut butter and jam.

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     The Toaster

   ...continued...

   I sat and stared at the toaster for a long while, contemplatively, perhaps even a little accusingly, trying to understand what had just happened. I failed. Then I found myself still holding two dry, cooled slices of dark rye. Eyeing the toaster, I decided to let the rye slices dry further and crush them for the birds. 

   Thus began the complex relationship I had with my toaster.

   A week later, I was expecting a visit from a friend I hadn't seen for a month. Having done some shopping, I had more thoroughly stocked my kitchen. Each of our visits would often span the weekend, and this was one such.

   I had planned to tell her about my toaster and its tendency to embellish. I was feeling a little nervous about it. Since the Dark Rye Incident, the toaster had only once more strayed into behavior different from what one would normally expect from an ordinary toaster. I was worried because of the possibility it would behave as expected, and that it wouldn't. 

   The second incidence of abnormal toaster behavior occurred mid-week, just a few days after the DRI. 

   I was making breakfast again, on a day when I planned to do a lot of work in my garden. Having dropped in two bagel halves, pushed down the lever, and having gotten a new plate, cream cheese and some cinnamon ready, I waited on the toaster to deliver its contents, which happened much sooner than I expected.

   I had spent some time since the Dark Rye Incident questioning myself, not my sanity, but certainly my perceptions, wondering if what had happened had actually happened. Perhaps as a testament to my intact sanity, it hadn't taken long for these thoughts to traipse through my mind. As a result, I had thought it wise to preserve the rye slices. There they were, two dark, square reminders, dry as Dostoyevsky, laying together on a round, white plate upon my kitchen counter. 

   When the toaster popped up with what I, mostly, expected to be two bagel halves, ready for schmear and spice, I saw instead, two slices of sourdough resting in the slots, graced by thin ribbons of smoke from burning crumbs. A small tingling sensation arose on the back of my neck. Goose bumps pebbled the skin of my arms. "A wry joke?" I said aloud, trying to quell my heebie-jeebies and laughing at my wit. My laughter stopped short however, when I was sobered by realizing the possibility that perhaps the joke wasn't mine.
   I picked the slices from the toaster, wondering idly where the bagel had gone. I noticed immediately there was an intricate pattern in the perfect toasting of the sourdough. Before I could get them to my plate, I dropped them on the counter, genuinely shocked at what I saw. At the same time, a squeak of disconcertedness came from somewhere within my throat.
   There, in the pattern of toasted sourdough bread of one slice, was the clearly discernible image of Homer Simpson lying in a hammock, a cigar between the fingers of one hand, and a beer can in the other.
   The other slice bore a finely detailed image of a Kliban cat seated at a table, bespectacled and reading a book. The book bore the title "Become an internet sensation in just two lives!" Another book lay on the table and was titled, simply "On being aloof".

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1 hour ago, Monti Messmer said:

Hi, while i don´t care much, because this isn´t my forum, i think stories especially not about SL ones, would fit better on a blog than forums.

Monti

Monti, the General Discussion forum was created by LL specifically to allow non SL discussion. Here's the operative clause from the Community Participation Guidelines.

Off Topic Content: Please keep your commentary relevant to the discussion and within the format that the forum, board or question and answer area require. (For example, in the Answers section, please follow the Q&A format of the discussion.) Content that is blatantly off topic is not permitted. You may also not post regarding subjects that do not relate to Second Life except in the General forum discussion board.

Note that we routinely ignore the proscription against blatantly off topic content, too!

;-).

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3 hours ago, Monti Messmer said:

Hi, while i don´t care much, because this isn´t my forum, i think stories especially not about SL ones, would fit better on a blog than forums.

 

2 hours ago, Madelaine McMasters said:

You may also not post regarding subjects that do not relate to Second Life except in the General forum discussion board.
 

Key phrase that rules all (bolding mine)

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4 hours ago, Madelaine McMasters said:

Note that we routinely ignore the proscription against blatantly off topic content, too!

I have an old friend coming to visit today.  I am making avocado turkey burgers with harvarti cheese and I'm going all out on a salad.  Cucumbers, butternut squash, shaved radishes, yellow and red bell peppers, sunflower seeds, fresh dill and parsley .. I know I'm missing something.  I have a green goddess dressing that should really set that off!

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9 minutes ago, Rhonda Huntress said:

I have an old friend coming to visit today.  I am making avocado turkey burgers with harvarti cheese and I'm going all out on a salad.  Cucumbers, butternut squash, shaved radishes, yellow and red bell peppers, sunflower seeds, fresh dill and parsley .. I know I'm missing something.  I have a green goddess dressing that should really set that off!

Where's the beef?

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19 minutes ago, Rhonda Huntress said:

I have an old friend coming to visit today.  I am making avocado turkey burgers with harvarti cheese and I'm going all out on a salad.  Cucumbers, butternut squash, shaved radishes, yellow and red bell peppers, sunflower seeds, fresh dill and parsley .. I know I'm missing something.  I have a green goddess dressing that should really set that off!

If you want to try something different (and you may already have), replace the dill with fennel, the sunflower seeds with roasted pine nuts and add in some diagonal cut celery (which would also work in your dill salad).

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20 minutes ago, Ivanova Shostakovich said:

   I learned the hard way, that if you're going to plant fennel in your garden, keep an eye on it and top it before it can scatter seeds.

   I'm not kidding. I ended up with a fennel legion. 

Similiar to  the vast zucchini empire my father accidentally planted one time, lol! 

Image result for zucchini cookbook

Edited by Aislin Ceawlin
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15 hours ago, Ivanova Shostakovich said:

     The Toaster

   ...continued...

 

  Hide contents

 

   I sat and stared at the toaster for a long while, contemplatively, perhaps even a little accusingly, trying to understand what had just happened. I failed. Then I found myself still holding two dry, cooled slices of dark rye. Eyeing the toaster, I decided to let the rye slices dry further and crush them for the birds. 

   Thus began the complex relationship I had with my toaster.

   A week later, I was expecting a visit from a friend I hadn't seen for a month. Having done some shopping, I had more thoroughly stocked my kitchen. Each of our visits would often span the weekend, and this was one such.

   I had planned to tell her about my toaster and its tendency to embellish. I was feeling a little nervous about it. Since the Dark Rye Incident, the toaster had only once more strayed into behavior different from what one would normally expect from an ordinary toaster. I was worried because of the possibility it would behave as expected, and that it wouldn't. 

   The second incidence of abnormal toaster behavior occurred mid-week, just a few days after the DRI. 

   I was making breakfast again, on a day when I planned to do a lot of work in my garden. Having dropped in two bagel halves, pushed down the lever, and having gotten a new plate, cream cheese and some cinnamon ready, I waited on the toaster to deliver its contents, which happened much sooner than I expected.

   I had spent some time since the Dark Rye Incident questioning myself, not my sanity, but certainly my perceptions, wondering if what had happened had actually happened. Perhaps as a testament to my intact sanity, it hadn't taken long for these thoughts to traipse through my mind. As a result, I had thought it wise to preserve the rye slices. There they were, two dark, square reminders, dry as Dostoyevsky, laying together on a round, white plate upon my kitchen counter. 

   When the toaster popped up with what I, mostly, expected to be two bagel halves, ready for schmear and spice, I saw instead, two slices of sourdough resting in the slots, graced by thin ribbons of smoke from burning crumbs. A small tingling sensation arose on the back of my neck. Goose bumps pebbled the skin of my arms. "A wry joke?" I said aloud, trying to quell my heebie-jeebies and laughing at my wit. My laughter stopped short however, when I was sobered by realizing the possibility that perhaps the joke wasn't mine.
   I picked the slices from the toaster, wondering idly where the bagel had gone. I noticed immediately there was an intricate pattern in the perfect toasting of the sourdough. Before I could get them to my plate, I dropped them on the counter, genuinely shocked at what I saw. At the same time, a squeak of disconcertedness came from somewhere within my throat.
   There, in the pattern of toasted sourdough bread of one slice, was the clearly discernible image of Homer Simpson lying in a hammock, a cigar between the fingers of one hand, and a beer can in the other.
   The other slice bore a finely detailed image of a Kliban cat seated at a table, bespectacled and reading a book. The book bore the title "Become an internet sensation in just two lives!" Another book lay on the table and was titled, simply "On being aloof".

 

 

(looks at her toaster with disappointment) Awaiting further installments!!!!

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Here's a selected excerpt from the novel I just completed the first draft on. The novel is titled, "We Built This City".

Marty and Marie sat at a table in the White Castle restaurant. They were finishing their meal when Marie posed a question to Marty.

“That was really amazing Marty. It must have been so cool to work with them! Did you know they were special?”, said an impressed Marie.

Marty shrugged. “I only heard generalities about their past. They were pretty private about their personal lives. Overall they were pretty good to work with. They were fair.”

“I think it would be awesome to go into space. What about you?”

“I never gave it much thought.”

“You know what could be cool? If we can’t get to space with Ravishal and Abba, we could go to Mars here.”

“Here? There’s nothing above us, just points of light. We do go around the sun and the moon goes around the globe, but there is nothing else up there, not even satellites.”

“That’s not true Marty. My neighbor has a telescope and we looked at Mars a few times. Do you know what we saw?”

“A candy bar?”

“Haha! No silly, a red planet! He said it was a globe like our world.”

“Hmmm, that’s interesting. I was told the other planets in the night sky were simply points of light like the stars.”

“My neighbor said that they turned into globes only a few years ago.”

“That’s news to me.”, said Marty who feigned interest.

“Marty, did you ever wonder what it all means? Like, what is the meaning of our existence? We never get old or sick. There’s no nature trying to kill us off. There are no children. So, what is the purpose of living?”

“That’s a deep question, Marie. Citizens no longer have to serve anyone but ourselves. I guess we do whatever we want.”

“But there has got to me more to it than that.  Simvie Loko has only been online for umm, 60 or so years? What happens in 160 years or 660 years? Does everything remain the same? I think I would get bored eventually.”

“It beats dying I suppose.” Seeing that this answer didn’t satisfy Marie, he continued, “I suppose we change over time. We adapt to our existence or maybe Our existence will change. Who can tell.”

Marie sat quietly, deep in thought. Marty’s datapad buzzed quietly, reminding him it was time to go home.

“It’s getting late Marie. I have work tomorrow. Let’s take you home.”

“Aww, so soon? Oh, you’re right. It is late!”

As they left the restaurant and approached Marty’s car a disheveled woman stopped in their path. They moved left to get passed her and she moved left. They moved right and she moved right too.

“Is there something you want?”, asked Marty.

“Give me money. I am desperate. Cash or credit. Give it to me.”, she rasped.

“Do you need to see a doctor? You sound ill.”, said a wary Marie who stood behind Marty.

The wretched woman became visibly angry and took a couple of steps closer to them. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a kitchen knife. Marie shrieked in fright and cowered behind Marty. Marty adopted a martial arts pose and stood his ground.

“Give me money, NOW!”, roared the now crazed woman who then leaped at Marty with the knife pointed at him.

Marty deflected the arm holding the knife with one arm and with the other arm grabbed the woman and threw her on the ground. The crazy woman gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Marty pushed Marie towards his car and said, “Get in the car!”

Marty turned back to face the prone woman who was slowly raising herself off the parking lot surface. Her right hand was still grasping the knife. Marty kicked that hand and the knife flew out of it. He then pushed her down with his knee and took both of her arms behind her back. With the other hand, he grabbed her long, greasy hair and tied it around her wrists, binding them. The crazy woman tried to buck him off, but he was too heavy for her. Marty called the police on his datapad and waited.

A small crowd had gathered around him by the time the police cruiser arrived.

“Mr. Martian? You’re the one who called the police?”, said a female officer.

“That’s me, officer....”

“Officer Galway, Angela Galway. So, what happened here?”

“She approached me and my date and demanded money. Then without warning, she tried to attack us with a knife. The knife is over there, under that car tire. I subdued her and then called the police.”

Officer Galway handcuffed the woman and disentangled the hair from her wrists.

“Pretty fancy move there, tying her up with her own hair. What sort of training have you had?”

“I’m ex-Army. Infantry and Special Ops.”

“Ahh, I see. I got it from here. These cuffs will keep her calm. Is there anything else you wish to add? I have it all down here on the recorder.”

“No, that’s pretty much what happened. Tell me, Officer Galway, I’ve never seen this behavior before in a Citizen. What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s an overdose of some kind. Normally, Users are the ones doing the really crazy ***** but lately there’s been some really bad JuJu floating around the city. I’m not one to speculate, but there’s a bad element among some of the newcomers. They’re the ones spreading a sickness around. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

“Didn’t hear a thing. I’ll leave you to your work, Officer Galway. I’ve got to get my date back to her place for the night.”

Marty got into his car and took Marie her home. At her apartment door, he said his goodnight to her.

“Well, that evening ended on a strange note.”, said Marty.

“Oh my yes! I was so scared! But you know what? You were my hero!”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just my instinct and military training kicking in.”, he said dismissively.

“Still, you could have been hurt. You also saved me from harm which makes me very grateful Marty.”

Marty was wondering if she was going to invite him into her apartment and show him how much she truly appreciated him. He was pretty sure about that outcome when she pulled him close and kissed him fully on the mouth. The kiss ended and Marie stepped back into her apartment. He almost took a step forward when she said, “Goodnight Marty, my hero. Get a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow. I’ll see you soon I hope!” With that, she shut the door. Marty stood there a moment and blinked. Well, I’ll be, he remarked to himself. His disappointment vanished as a smile spread across his face. She’s a keeper...

Edited by GoSpeed Racer
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1 hour ago, GoSpeed Racer said:

Here's a selected excerpt from the novel I just completed the first draft on. The novel is titled, "We Built This City".

(Pardon me for the wall of text, but I don;t know how to hide text.)

Marty and Marie sat at a table in the White Castle restaurant. They were finishing their meal when Marie posed a question to Marty.

“That was really amazing Marty. It must have been so cool to work with them! Did you know they were special?”, said an impressed Marie.

Marty shrugged. “I only heard generalities about their past. They were pretty private about their personal lives. Overall they were pretty good to work with. They were fair.”

“I think it would be awesome to go into space. What about you?”

“I never gave it much thought.”

“You know what could be cool? If we can’t get to space with Ravishal and Abba, we could go to Mars here.”

“Here? There’s nothing above us, just points of light. We do go around the sun and the moon goes around the globe, but there is nothing else up there, not even satellites.”

“That’s not true Marty. My neighbor has a telescope and we looked at Mars a few times. Do you know what we saw?”

“A candy bar?”

“Haha! No silly, a red planet! He said it was a globe like our world.”

“Hmmm, that’s interesting. I was told the other planets in the night sky were simply points of light like the stars.”

“My neighbor said that they turned into globes only a few years ago.”

“That’s news to me.”, said Marty who feigned interest.

“Marty, did you ever wonder what it all means? Like, what is the meaning of our existence? We never get old or sick. There’s no nature trying to kill us off. There are no children. So, what is the purpose of living?”

“That’s a deep question, Marie. Citizens no longer have to serve anyone but ourselves. I guess we do whatever we want.”

“But there has got to me more to it than that.  Simvie Loko has only been online for umm, 60 or so years? What happens in 160 years or 660 years? Does everything remain the same? I think I would get bored eventually.”

“It beats dying I suppose.” Seeing that this answer didn’t satisfy Marie, he continued, “I suppose we change over time. We adapt to our existence or maybe Our existence will change. Who can tell.”

Marie sat quietly, deep in thought. Marty’s datapad buzzed quietly, reminding him it was time to go home.

“It’s getting late Marie. I have work tomorrow. Let’s take you home.”

“Aww, so soon? Oh, you’re right. It is late!”

As they left the restaurant and approached Marty’s car a disheveled woman stopped in their path. They moved left to get passed her and she moved left. They moved right and she moved right too.

“Is there something you want?”, asked Marty.

“Give me money. I am desperate. Cash or credit. Give it to me.”, she rasped.

“Do you need to see a doctor? You sound ill.”, said a wary Marie who stood behind Marty.

The wretched woman became visibly angry and took a couple of steps closer to them. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a kitchen knife. Marie shrieked in fright and cowered behind Marty. Marty adopted a martial arts pose and stood his ground.

“Give me money, NOW!”, roared the now crazed woman who then leaped at Marty with the knife pointed at him.

Marty deflected the arm holding the knife with one arm and with the other arm grabbed the woman and threw her on the ground. The crazy woman gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Marty pushed Marie towards his car and said, “Get in the car!”

Marty turned back to face the prone woman who was slowly raising herself off the parking lot surface. Her right hand was still grasping the knife. Marty kicked that hand and the knife flew out of it. He then pushed her down with his knee and took both of her arms behind her back. With the other hand, he grabbed her long, greasy hair and tied it around her wrists, binding them. The crazy woman tried to buck him off, but he was too heavy for her. Marty called the police on his datapad and waited.

A small crowd had gathered around him by the time the police cruiser arrived.

“Mr. Martian? You’re the one who called the police?”, said a female officer.

“That’s me, officer....”

“Officer Galway, Angela Galway. So, what happened here?”

“She approached me and my date and demanded money. Then without warning, she tried to attack us with a knife. The knife is over there, under that car tire. I subdued her and then called the police.”

Officer Galway handcuffed the woman and disentangled the hair from her wrists.

“Pretty fancy move there, tying her up with her own hair. What sort of training have you had?”

“I’m ex-Army. Infantry and Special Ops.”

“Ahh, I see. I got it from here. These cuffs will keep her calm. Is there anything else you wish to add? I have it all down here on the recorder.”

“No, that’s pretty much what happened. Tell me, Officer Galway, I’ve never seen this behavior before in a Citizen. What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s an overdose of some kind. Normally, Users are the ones doing the really crazy ***** but lately there’s been some really bad JuJu floating around the city. I’m not one to speculate, but there’s a bad element among some of the newcomers. They’re the ones spreading a sickness around. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

“Didn’t hear a thing. I’ll leave you to your work, Officer Galway. I’ve got to get my date back to her place for the night.”

Marty got into his car and took Marie her home. At her apartment door, he said his goodnight to her.

“Well, that evening ended on a strange note.”, said Marty.

“Oh my yes! I was so scared! But you know what? You were my hero!”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just my instinct and military training kicking in.”, he said dismissively.

“Still, you could have been hurt. You also saved me from harm which makes me very grateful Marty.”

Marty was wondering if she was going to invite him into her apartment and show him how much she truly appreciated him. He was pretty sure about that outcome when she pulled him close and kissed him fully on the mouth. The kiss ended and Marie stepped back into her apartment. He almost took a step forward when she said, “Goodnight Marty, my hero. Get a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow. I’ll see you soon I hope!” With that, she shut the door.

Marty stood there a moment and blinked. Well, I’ll be, he remarked to himself. His disappointment vanished as a smile spread across his face. She’s a keeper.....

   This is interesting. I like how the people are referring to things, like "points of light" and "the globe", as if some or parts of various things have been forgotten by, or hidden from them.

   To hide a block of text, enclose it within spoiler tags. [spoil r] and [/spoil r] for beginning and end, respectively. 

Edited by Ivanova Shostakovich
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I had to endure my parent's overzealous home gardening right up until I kicked them out of the house. Zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, chives, fennel... I can't remember them all. Every year, despite their attempts to "even things out", we'd have a bumper crop of one thing or another and by the time it was over, we were sick to death of it. When I want fresh produce, I go to the farmer's market and take home only what I can eat that day or the next, not so much that I have to throw it at out for the animals in my yard.

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4 hours ago, Ivanova Shostakovich said:

   If I used the tags in any post, complete with the missing 'e' in each, they would function, hiding how to actually do it.

That bit of info would have certainly helped after 10 minutes of messing with those tags.

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