Posts in prose

If you were to have walked up behind him, quietly, he wouldn’t have noticed you. He was lost in his writing, scribbling down the last words of humankind. His journal was the sides and corners of some operating manual he had found – it was the only paper around. The zigzag of words and idea flowed over, above and around the preprinted text, making these final, sacred words a jumble of memories and inked, mechanical instructions.

“My name is Carlos, and I am the last living human,” he had written not long ago. He read those words to himself again, agonizing over whether they told the depth of his pain and loneliness. It seemed to him like there should be some kind of adjective or modifier that should accompany such a dramatic statement. He wasn’t much of a writer, really. It was a bit of a shame that he should be chosen to write the final words of mankind. His name, Carlos, suddenly seemed silly to him. From Adam to Carlos. Some name beginning with “Z” would have been more catchy.

“I had a beautifully horrific view of the destruction. The Sun set out a solar flare that was immense, like a whip trailing across our little Universe. When the flare made contact with Earth, it was with such precision one might have thought the Sun was jealous of the moon’s eternal dance with our world. The flare cracked upon the Earth, destroying it. I saw it all happen; I watched the destruction of my homeworld happen in a flash, before humanity had a chance to say a prayer.”

He was proud of his words there. He liked that thought… that the Sun was jealous of the moon. It gave him something to believe in. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only sentient being still alive. Earth was destroyed. His friends, his family, his crew were dead. Maybe, he hoped, there was something else still out there.

Carlos stood up, walking on the soft dust of the moon, towards his lunar base. His team had been the living on the moon for only a month when the disaster happened. They were the first of such teams to be sent to the moon; NASA had finally gotten its act together and planned to develop a way of life on the moon. The plan was to build a small, sustainable city there or no more than 1,000 people. Progress on Earth due to the EPA requiring alternative fuels and sustainable products had finally made it feasible to live off of our home planet. It was made financially possible by the networks; they had broadcast rights to life in space. The science made it feasible… the entertainment value made it profitable.

Carlos stood with one of the camcorders in his hand. He was just supposed to be a stagehand. He knew camcorders inside and out… he wasn’t creative enough to be a director but he had a keen eye for the angles and a soft focus. It was time for another burial.

Carlos took his time setting the camera on its tripod, trying to catch the right light from the sun. He would always have the lunar base in the background to give the burial some sort of perspective. He hated how people thought the first man-on-the-moon was from a soundstage. He hit the record button, and began digging.

“I’m digging this grave for Nathan Ellis. Captain Ellis was good man, the last of the crew to give up. I think he wanted to be the last of us all. He would have made a better last human than me. He would have honored us all with better words and a better dream.

I didn’t mean to kill him. He just wouldn’t stop breathing. We chose to keep our mics always on so we could hear each other in case of emergency. He would breathe so heavily. I tried to turn him down but it got louder and louder in my head. He wouldn’t listen to me and just shut up.

I’m using his oxygen tank now, in honor of his death.”

It had been a week since the Sun’s destruction of the Earth. When the flare struck the Earth it wasn’t what they might show in the movies. There wasn’t some massive explosion, sending rocks every which way. It was more like a boiled egg cracking, then falling into pieces. It might have even been possible that some people might have found a way to live on these large chunks separated planet, but Carlos didn’t allow himself that hope. Slowly, over the week, the chunks were getting further and further apart, each with their own gravity field.

Carlos had stopped looking towards the Earth in several days, so he hadn’t noticed anything unusual. It wasn’t until a human body, disfigured but clearly in civilian clothes (possibly shorts? A tank top?) landed on the ground in front of the camera.

“No,” was all he could mutter.

Carlos saw a piece of the Earth slowly drifting towards the moon, pulled in by its gravity. The smaller chunks of the Earth had been drawn to the moon. He guessed that maybe 100 miles away from his base, an Earth comet was about to crash into the moon. In the comet’s orbit, he saw hundreds – maybe thousands – of human bodies.

Carlos was paralyzed. Human bodies were landing on the moon’s surface all around him. He began digging deeper. They would all need graves, he thought.

A redheaded woman landed near him… or at least that’s what he thought it was. It was hard to tell if she really was even a human, but in Carlos’ mind he saw her. His daughter was a redheaded beauty of seven years old.

He patted Molly on the head. She was a beautiful sprite of a child, her poise full of grace and her hair full of mud. A tomboy, for sure, she took after her father. Carlos had loved Molly like a precious jewel. He understood the world that lived and breathed around him and new that once she was old enough there would be enough pain and anguish for her deal with on her own… he wanted to be sure that her childhood would be filled with all the care and affection he could give.

When Carlos was approached to work on the lunar base project, he did so with two caveats. The first was that he would be allowed to use the video equipment to send personal videos back to his family. The second was that Molly and his wife, Mary, would be in the first group of civilians to make the transition to living on the moon.

Carlos only took the job knowing that he was building a better future for Molly. Being away from his family was going to be torture, but a man can be brave when he knows that he’s been tasked with making history. He ruffled Molly’s hair, bent down, and gave her a loving, almost casual, temporary hug goodbye. He would see her soon, he told her.

Carlos scooped up the decayed, charred bag of flesh that had fallen near him. Had you been there with him, you would have told him that it wasn’t Molly. There weren’t any distinguishing features. From your perspective, you wouldn’t have been sure if the charred thing in his arms was Molly or a pet dog.

Carlos wept.

Openly, unashamedly, he wept as he held his beautiful Molly in his arms. What father is meant to bury his daughter? What father should know that he could have held on a little longer, could have been a little less brave, should have not done the right thing for his race and instead stayed home, riding a bike with his child and making mudpies? What father wouldn’t have chosen a few more weeks with his child instead of being the final survivor of the human race?

As he looked up from the charred remains of Molly, Carlos saw his last glimmer of hope walking towards him. Slowly, as if he was in some slow-motion movie sequence, a woman was walking towards him.

‘Could it be?’ he thought. ‘Someone survived. Someone else is alive. I’m not alone.’

“Thank you, God,” he said aloud, though his mic, where it was picked up by the still listening camcorder.

Carlos could feel his energy returning, his blood filled with hope. He didn’t find it odd that she walking towards him without any protection, no restrictive space suit. He could see her every curve and brilliant beauty. It did not surprise him that she was on fire, her hair made of flames and her skin bristling with heat.

“Hello, Carlos. I’ve come to save you,” she said.

“Save me?”

“I love you, Carlos. I am the Sun, I am all powerful. I take what I want.”

“Why… why me?” was all he could stammer out. He was on his knees now, taken aback by the sheer heat of the Sun. He was weak. He was showing his submission to the Sun.

“There were too many humans, Carlos. I only ever wanted you.”

“But I’m no one special. Why am I the last to live? Why did you spare me?”

“Clearly, you’re a survivor. You must be special if you’re still alive and everyone else is gone. Look around you… nothing remains here for you.” Sharpening her eyes, glaring into weak Carlos’ tortured mind, she said, “Only the Sun remains. Only I have love for you. Don’t you love me?”

The heat had dried his memory. Gone was his concern for the charred remains of some fleshly thing that had fallen near him. Was he ever married? He couldn’t remember her name… surely he was married once. “Love you?” he asked.

“Yes, Carlos – Love me.” It was more a command than an answer to his question. “You’re the last human to live. Surely you know what love is. Surely you want to love and be loved. Isn’t that what humanity is all about?” The Sun smiled a smirk of a smile and turned away.

“Please, don’t let me die alone,” were his last words.

The Sun just walked across the moon’s horizon, into the ball of gas light years away, ever so slightly with a sway of her hips.

Carlos sat there, on his knees, for what must have been hours. He mind was empty, it seemed. He slowly stood up, letting the blood return to his tingling calves and cold feet. He took a few steps backwards, the weight of his steps crumbling the charred remains he so tenderly held only moments (hours?) ago. He didn’t notice.

He climbed into the lunar base, walking past the camcorder and Captain Ellis’ grave site. He walked down the echoing halls, past rations and the few remaining oxygen tanks. He walked past his room and carried off no personal effects. He walked to the ship’s docking station, climbed into the captain’s chair and initiated the take off sequence. Carlos set the ship on autopilot and, in moments, his retinas were burned from the light of the sun.

If you had been there, you might have picked up his clumsy journal of an operating manual. If you had been there, you might have finished Captain Ellis’ burial. If you had been there, you would have watched as Carlos drifted off into space, seeking love one last time.

prose, stories, writingAaron LinneSeptember 4, 2013 Comment

Their Silence Was Finally Broken

Their silence was finally broken:

"Is this what you want?" she asked.

He didn't respond right away. He didn't know if he would have the courage to let the words fall from his lips. He opened his mouth, lips quaking, a gesture that he was going to respond. When his throat trembled, he closed his mouth once more. He wanted the silence back. He didn't want to feel the pain of his response, nor the humility of letting himself cry. He was supposed to be strong in this moment.

"I don't want you to die," he finally whispered.

Four years ago, Autumn Yester had been diagnosed with spinal cancer. After numorous surgeries, the doctors had made an unsettling discovery; Autumn's ailment was not simply cancer. It had combined with a bacteria to make it viral. It was the first case of its kind; Autumn was patient zero.

In her private room, Autumn moved her hand softly towards the glass that seperated her from the rest of the world and - most importantly - her husband. Ronald watched as time seemed to slow down, taking in her every movement.

The motion began at her wrist, with the beauty of a conductor's skill, leading her arm toward the cold barrier between them. Her fingers lifted up, inching towards the glass. Her index finger rose above all others, penetrating the air ahead. The angle between her forearm and bicept smoothly straighted, each moment lingering as a picture of grace in Ronald's mind.

Her fingers touched the glass.

Ronald did not move. He was afraid. He knew that this was the image that would haunt his memories of this moment. Grace and beauty even in the midst of seperation. She was reaching out to him, even though they both knew they could never touch again.

"Please," she asked.

Ronald stared. He did not know what to do now. He did not know how to support his wife, nor even what it meant to be a man.

Ronald and Autum were living in a hard time, chornologically. Many illnesses had cures or workarounds, but not all. People were living longer, but not always long enough. Life was heading toward immortality for humanity, but it wasn't quite there yet. Autumn's case was new and, as patient zero, she had been given two options:

"You can die," offered their doctor, "and donate your body to science. Or, we can place you in suspended animation. We'll be able to extract samples of your tissues as needed and, after we find a permant cure in other cases, we can revive you. We cannot estimate how many years will pass before we will bring you out, however."

That was when silence entered the room.

"It's a cruel hope," Ronald said. "I don't want you to die, but to simply freeze you... what happens when you wake up? What if it's twenty years from now? You'll still be you... but I'll be older. Life will continue for me. What if it's longer?"

"I'll still love you when I wake up," was her soft reply.

"Autumn. I may not be alive when you wake up."

Ronald hadn't moved. Autumn's hand, pressed against the clear glass slowly crept downward as gravity took hold. The weight of reality pressed upon her shoulders as she stiffened her back. Her arm grew tired and her wrist was weak. Her fingers no longer pressed against the glass as a means for embrace but instead struggled to keep her body held up.

She was about to crumble.

In a flurry of activity doctors and nurses rushed to sanitize themselves - and, perhaps more importantly, protect themselves - trying to break into her seclusion, but Autumn did not break contact from Ronald's eyes.

She fell to her knees, mustering her strength to say one final goodbye to this man she had loved so dearly...

but the words, they did not come.

proseAaron LinneNovember 21, 2008Comment

i'm way behind (and a preview of Chapter 7)

oi - I am way behind on the novel. I currently sit at 3,689 words. I'm supposed to be done with about 10,000 by now. My first two days were strong, but then Saturday I filmed a wedding for 5 hours, and Sunday I had lot of homework (and a little Christmas shopping for Ashley) to do. Last night I managed to get over my first bit of Writer's Block and jumped from the end of Chapter 2 on to Chapter 7. Which means, at some point, I'll have to go back and fill in a lot of the details. I've put a preview of Chapter 7 after the break.

The door opened, like a slow castle gate being drawn in. This asteroid they were on was clearly a prison, and what lay beneath the surface was the grand mystery.

The matter of sending convicts off planet was not a new one. On Earth, sending prisoners to the moon became a regular activity fairly quickly after the moon tourism began. In order to bring the cost to their customers down, many space tourism companies brokered deals with the government to transport prisoners to the moon in exchange for a sizable amount of money. The private guests were never any the wiser, until a malfunction let loose a prisoner once... and he killed the all the guests and crew.

This event allowed the space tourism industry to form true space imprisonment services. The government still needed to ship high profile convicts off planet, but regulations said that the prisoners could not travel with citizens. As such, the fees for space imprisonment sky-rocketed, and fueled the growth of space-related business. The space imprisonment research went largely unchecked because the cargo was, in fact, people that were needed to be gotten rid of.

Eventually, as the moon was populated by normal citizens, the prisoners needed to be moved off planet again. And so, even before the 3000s, prisoners were being shipped to asteroids where convict cities were developed. Living on a floating asteroid, in a man-made city of convicts, would be enough tension to drive any prisoner insane. They were constantly monitored, but it was all done remotely. If something went wrong in a convict city, it would take years to travel to the asteroid in the early days.

It was clear that something had gone wrong here.

Jabin was the first to puke. He was a researcher. He wasn’t some grand space cowboy, travelling the open sectors. This was the furthest he’d ever been away from home; as far as he knew convict cities were a myth. Opening the door to go beneath the surface, three long decayed bodies fell out, one touching Jabin. His puke covered the corpse.

nanowrimo, prose, signs of life, writingAaron LinneNovember 7, 2007 Comments

Chapter 1: High Priority News

Sol was a news filter, or sorts.

By this time in human history, Universes had been populated by space-faring dynasties of men. A constant flow of information was at everyone’s fingertips, but someone had to prioritize it. Sol came from a long line of news filters; his family was one of the major dynasties in their universal sector. News filters would analyze all of the incoming messages, feeds and stories and filter their relevance to various ideas, tags and themes.

To say that Sol’s profession was to be a news filter would be principally inaccurate. He was, in fact, a news filter. So naturally skilled he was at the profession that he had an almost “sixth sense” about the accuracy and importance of an article from even the briefest scan of it. The average scan of a thousand word document by a filter was no more than thirty seconds. Sol’s average was twenty-three seconds. Seven seconds is time and time is, as they say, money.

The news filters would receive their feeds directly through the neural net. Over the years humans adapted to the numerous airwaves spread into the air around them. Some might call it evolution, but no one in Sol’s time would think such thoughts. No one in Sol’s time could – yes, I said could, not would - even imagine a human mind not being able to intercept the neural net. It had, after all, been nearly 100,000 years since the first radio waves were broadcast. Not that they kept track of things like that.

As the news data came to Sol’s attention, he would scan it and pull out the obvious connections. As a game, he liked to try and pull a few phrases out that a lesser news filter wouldn’t catch. He had an affinity for stories about authors and always sought to pair social data with musicians. Sol thought of himself as playing with data like an artist might play with sound. If he could give the true artists some exposure by tagging a possibly relevant social issue with their name, then so be it.

Because of his family name, their ongoing dynasty, Sol did receive special treatment. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, like we might be today. For as powerful of name that Sol had, it was an honor to even been seen associated with Sol. Dynasties and names mean quite a bit more in this time and place than they might to you and me.

Sol was often called upon to help filter and tag the “special” stories. The kind that don’t always fit into the traditional models of data broadcast. For example, Sol might help decide whether the discovery of yet another planet was worthwhile news or not. Or, news from a neighboring sector might occasionally need to be rebroadcast. Sol would help run the analytics to judge whether or not the members of his sector’s neural net would care about the information or – more, perhaps more practically – if any significant number in the population even would recognize the neighboring sector’s name.

Even these special filtering assignments could be done from the comfort of his workplace. Sol was so in tuned with the neural net that is took his aide, Claris, actually physically touching him to gain his attention.

“Sol,” she said.

Sol responded to her in his head, asking “What?” Of course, Claris did not hear him – she wasn’t some kind of mind reader. The two blankly stared at each other, each respectfully awaiting the other’s reply.

Looking into someone’s eyes was not a typical affair for Sol. He talked in person with people so seldom that he had forgotten how deep an iris can go. Claris politely looked into his deep, blue eyes as well. She quietly wondered how his left one had been shattered so many years ago. It took Sol several uncomfortable moments before he realized he hadn’t actually spoken.

“I’m sorry, Claris. You wanted me?”

Claris smiled and bowed her head ever so slightly, “Not I, sir. You are wanted in the physical services department.” Sol smiled awkwardly at Claris, and rose to leave. Sol was quite a bit taller than Claris, and looked down at her from his height. Having just tapped him on the shoulder to gain his attention, Claris was close to Sol. Too close, perhaps.

Sol looked down at Claris. Her hair was red, her eyes the same. Her skin was fair, with a faint glimmer of silver. She was fit for her age, and still beautiful. Her hair was full – she seldom used the neural net. Sol’s companionship with Maria – his current wife – was nearing the end of its season. As was tradition, during the final year of a seasonal marriage, the man and wife were to have no physical contact. Standing up, in front of a non-moving Claris, was the closest he had been to woman in several moons. But Claris isn’t all that important to our story, just yet.

Sol walked into the physical services department to find it empty. Perhaps the meeting hadn’t started yet. On the table in front of him was an odd looking thing that seemed to have some sets of symbols on it. It was rectangular in shape, and had a height of maybe six inches. It was rectangular in shape, with the symbols marked in the center. Had Sol been born some ninety-thousand years ago, he might have known it as an ancient relic called a book. As it was, the device was decidedly foreign to him. There was no word for book in his language.

“We’ve been able to decipher only the smallest portion of this object,” came the low voice of Sol’s filtering mentor, Silas from the Name Brin. Silas was the captain of Sol’s filtering team. Having worked the filtering role for over three hundred years, Silas had more experience than Sol could imagine. Sol’s career as a filter would never last that long for his name was too rich to be just a filter.

“You’re going to be working on this project for me,” said Brin. “You’re going to be working on this in secret. We will inform your peers that you have been promoted and are working from your homespace.”

“What project? What is this device?”

“You’re the best we have. We know this object is important; it is unique. Someone went to great lengths to get this in our hands and we cannot let anyone know we have it until we know what kind of threat it holds to our society.”

“Threat? We haven’t had a threat in year. The first father –“

“This is a threat, and should be treated as such. We have been able to decipher the meaning of these symbols, Sol.”

“What does they mean?”

“Loosely translated, they mean ‘the Good News’.”

“Good news? How can that be? News is just data, Silas.”

“I know. Why someone would seek to suggest that news is good is beyond foolishness.”

“Could you have deciphered it wrong? Perhaps is means ‘High Priority News’.”

Silas looked away from Sol, struggling to contain his emotion: “We don’t make mistakes, Sol. What we have, on this table, in this very room, is no mistake, or joke, or matter to take lightly. If there is such thing as Good News, then we have it here, in this room, with us. We must find out what that means.”

“What it means? How?”

Silas walked slowly to this inanimate object, this device that carried such an ominous message. Silas turned and watched Sol’s face contort with confusion as he took the top of this device and pull the top open, only to do so again, and again; what we simple people might call turning pages.

“There is a mystery of symbols contained in this device, and we don’t even know what it is. You are going to help us discover the Good News, Sol of the Name Book.”

nanowrimo, prose, signs of lifeAaron LinneNovember 1, 2007 Comment

the sun was jealous of the moon (comic script version)

Page 1

Journal: My name is Carlos, and I am the last living human.

Over the shoulder view from Carlos on the moon looking at a scorched, destroyed Earth.

Pages 2 & 3

Journal: I had a beautifully horrific view of the destruction. The Sun set out a solar flare that was immense, like a whip trailing across our little Universe. When the flare made contact with Earth, it was with such precision one might have thought the Sun was jealous of the moon’s eternal dance with our world. The flare cracked upon the Earth, destroying it. I saw it all happen; I watched the destruction of my homeworld happen in a flash, before humanity had a chance to say a prayer.

Page 4

Journal: Life as the final human has been surprisingly mundane. I have enough rations to last another three years, so I won’t be dying anytime soon. Unless, of course, I decide to release the oxygen tanks. I’ve thought about it.

I spent a week burying each of my companions. They didn’t last very long out here. We never got along too well anyhow. Who am I writing this for?

Page 5

Carlos sitting on a moon rock, playing tic-tac-toe against himself. In the distance we see some objects in the sky, flying towards the moon. Carlos notices them, as they get closer, and starts to run.

Page 6

Spalsh page of Carlos running, with human bodies slamming the moon all around him.

Page 7

Carlos takes cover under the his moon base/ship and the bodies start to slow down.

Carlos speaking: Bodies.

Page 8 & 9

Carlos begins to walk around the bodies, inspecting them.

Carlos: Hello? Is anyone alive?

Carlos: Mary? Dad?

Carlos: Oh please, someone be alive. Please, what’s your name? Please?

Carlos falls weeping on a charred body.

Page 10

Carlos looks up.

Carlos: Thank you, God.

We see the shadow of a person walking towards Carlos.

Calros: Please be real, please be real

We get a close up of a hand touching Carlos’s spacesuit, where his chin would be… the hand seems to be on fire.

Page 11

Splash page of the female personification of the Sun. Well… Carlos’s delusion of the personification of the sun.

Sun: Hello, Carlos. I’ve come to save you.

Carlos: Save me?

Sun: I love you, Carlos. I am the Sun, and I take what I want.

Carlos: Why me?

Page 12-13

Conversation between the Sun and Carlos

Sun: There were too many humans. I just wanted you, Carlos.

Carlos: But I’m no one special. Why am I the last to live?

Sun: You’re a survivor, Carlos. You must be special if you still live. Don’t you love me?

Carlos: Love you?

Sun: Yes, Carlos. Love me. You’re the last human to live… surely you know what love is. Surely you want to love and be loved. Isn’t that what humanity is all about?

The Sun begins to walk away.

Carlos: Please don’t let me die alone.

Sun: Come love me, Carlos.

Page 14

Carlos walks on the charred bodies, trying to follow the Sun who is walking out of the atmosphere toward the real Sun. We see a smile on Carlos’s face.

Page 15

Carlos is in his ship, strapping in. We see him at the controls, preparing for take off. The ship lifts off

Page 16

Carlos’s ship is drifting towards the sun.

comics, prose, writingAaron LinneOctober 30, 2007Comment

godspeak (a two-person play)

written in 2000

“Godspeak”

Jesus: I have stayed here for forty days, forty nights. I have not eaten, not rested. I have wandered these woods as I made the Israelites wander for forty years. I am ready, Father. You know I am yours, you I am prepared. From here, I begin my ministry, from here, I step forward.

(Satan crawls out from offstatge) Jesus: I am hungry. Satan: Hungry are you? Jesus: I knew you would come. Satan: I’m glad you were thinking of me. We haven’t talked in a while, you and I. How are things in the Silver City. Jesus: The happenings there do not concern me now. Satan: That’s right, you’re still trying to get used to this thing these humans of yours call time. You never thought it would be so hard, did you? These frail bodies you created… so close to the image of you. Never thought forty days without social contact would be so hard. No food to eat, no place to go, not even an angel to comfort you. Poor would-be king. Look what you’ve become. Jesus: You know why this had to be done, now get on with it. Satan: My word!!! I thought love was patient. No, no, Jesus. I’m not going to make this hard on you, don’t worry. It will be over soon enough. It’s just that I miss being in your presence. Since you’ve been down here, I’ve been so busy I seldom even get a chance to think about the City. Do you miss it as much as I do? Jesus: What I long for concerns you not. Satan: I’m just trying to catch up on old times. Open up to me. You used to. Jesus: Yes, I used to. You also used to love me. Satan: Don’t let my hate fool you, Jesus. I’m still highly interested in you. Jesus: Only for your own foolish desires and manipulations. Satan: Picky, picky. Of course I’m only interested in you for my own plans!!! But that doesn’t mean that I’m not interested. C’mon, now Jesus… would it be so bad to let me know just a little bit about how you’re feeling. (Satan begins eating a fruit) Jesus: Your servant, the snake. He was fond of fruit. Satan: That plan was almost too simple. The poor reptile never thought about anything… the wretched old thing crawling around on his stomach all the time now. He still thinks I owe him something. Jesus: You owe many people many things. Satan: And even more owe things to me. Would you like a bite? Jesus: How like you, Lucifer. Using the very fruit that the snake used to tempt Eve against me. But I won’t give in that easy – I thirst for no more than the living water and bread of life. Satan: No Fruit of Knowledge for you? Jesus: What need would I have for such a thing? I am the Word, I am knowledge. There is nothing that escapes my grasp. Satan: There are some things. How can you know everything? You have no idea what sin feels like – unless things have changed in my favor. Jesus: I have no need to know what sin feels like. That would defeat the purpose of me. Satan: Might I inquire into your infinite knowledge, oh master of the cosmos? Jesus: And what, please tell, would you admit to not knowing? Satan: Tell about the bread of life. Jesus: I am the bread of life. Whoever eats of me shall live forever. Satan: Make a morsel then. Jesus: Excuse me? Satan: For old time’s sake. Make us something to eat. Make some bread, that’s simple enough for you, isn’t it? There – those rocks. Tell them to become bread. I hunger. And, I am sure, after forty days with nothing to eat, you are too. Jesus: Forty days, and no food. Satan: Nothing to fill the shrinking human stomach. It’s ok – you never expected it to be this hard. You never had to work one of these skins before. There is so much about them you never got to experience. Starvation isn’t fit for a king. Make those stones into bread. Jesus: A simple task. Satan: Not even a simple task!!! It’s a mere thought! Just for a second, just for a moment, think that you want some bread to eat. You are Lord of the Universe!!! Surely, they would be willing to serve you at a moment’s notice! Go on Lord, make them comply to your will. Jesus: A mere thought. A mere thought, and light arises from darkness. A mere thought, and the waters are told where to stay. A mere thought, and fire reigns down on Sodom and Gomorrah. A mere thought and an ass speaks. A mere thought, and the most beautiful of all angels is created. A mere thought and my human hunger, vanquished by the service of these rocks. Satan: Just one, measly thought. Jesus: Leave my hunger to myself, Satan. It is written, Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God. It is written, and so shall it be. This hunger is for me to endure, not for me to end early. My hunger is for God – not for a piece of simple bread. Leave my hunger to myself, Satan. It is my burden, not yours.

of the spiritual, proseAaron LinneApril 21, 2007Comment

Of Angels and Demons: God's Monologue II

written in 2000 God’s Monologue II

It’s not that hard to explain, really. Lucifer was the first, the most beautiful of my angels. Even I, at times, was swayed by his suggestions. I gave him authority over all my creations – only I was more powerful than him. I thought it wise at the time. In a way, I still think it wise.

He brought to me Gabriel. He was to be the next in command. I never took notice of their familiarity with each other… they were the only angels who did not use their whole and given names to speak with each other. I should have realized that something was happening in Lucifer’s mind. But I trusted him.

Just as I knew Adam would betray me, just as I knew Judas would betray me, I knew that Lucifer would betray me. I knew that he would come to fight me. I knew that he was meant to rule hell – why else would I have made a kingdom but not make a ruler for it. I knew he would lose. But I still trusted him. I still trusted Judas. I still trusted Adam.

I knew all this, and I let him do it. I have let him play his games with my children and my world because I hope. I hope for him to one day say “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” I hope to one day hold my finest creation in my arms again. I had hoped that my own treasurer would have meant the kiss. I had hoped to find man naked before me.

I know it won’t happen. I know he’ll continue to destroy the lives of those I love. I know he’s destroyed the wisdom of the serpent. I know he’s destroyed the mind of my disciple. I know he’s given them all forbidden fruit.

I’ve sacrificed my own son in retribution to the messes he’s made. Instead of destroying him and being done with it, I wait and I hope. I know one day I’ll lock him up and hold him there for years upon years. But even after that I’ll let him go, because I’ll hope that the beast will come back to me. I’ll hope he stops playing his games. I’ll hope he stops betraying me. I’ll hope he stops playing in the garden. I’ll hope he stops.

of the spiritual, proseAaron LinneApril 21, 2007Comment

Of Angels and Demons: Gabriel's Monologue

written in 2000

Gabriel’s Monologue

We are angels. We are messengers of God. We live to serve him. We have no other choice, for there is no other choice

There was a choice we had to make, once. A beautiful stranger came to me once. I say stranger, even though I had known him all my existence. We had been paired together to learn from each other. He handpicked me out to be the next in command of all the angels. There was the creator, then him, then me. And then he came to me as a stranger.

He whispered strange things in my ear. Odd incantations, ideas that I couldn’t comprehend. He seemed so distant, unlike the angel I had known… but even in this odd state I could see the power of host upon host of angels who were supporting him and his strange ideas. And, even though I couldn’t understand why I would want to follow him, why I would want to be one of his… I felt an urge to go with him. I felt an urge to leave my position as Gabriel, and follow this false god.

I saw him next during the war. Things had occurred quickly, its amazing I even remember them happening. The name Lucifer was not allowed to be said in those times. He was merely referred to as “The Enemy.” I believe you humans pronounce it Satan. I found myself commanding the angels, I was the new one in charge. I saw angels battle angels. I believe Walken had it right when he said that we had one wing dipped in grace with the other dipped in blood.

It was not a surprise that we had one. The Great Mystery had predicted as such. I think even Satan himself knew. But he still fought.

I saw him once on the battlefield - he was a long distance away from me, but I believe he saw me. I believe he paused when he did. I don’t think he wanted to go further. I don’t think he wanted to fight anymore. And I don’t believe I’ve seen the one named Lucifer since then. Only Satan comes to visit now. Only Satan.

of the spiritual, proseAaron LinneApril 21, 2007Comment

Of Angels and Demons: Lucifer's Monologue

written in 2000

Lucifer’s Monologue

The worst way of missing someone is to be sitting there, next to them, elbows almost touching, breathing the air they breath, observing the same things they observe – to be the only one that could ever be considered their equal – and yet be completely alone and know that they will never, ever, ever extend a hand out to you.

Go ahead – tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing I did.

Go ahead – tell me that maybe, just maybe you wouldn’t get tired of knowing that everything, everything was going to work out His way.

Go ahead – tell me that it wouldn’t kill you to know that no matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you cared, nothing was going to change and everything you could accomplish was meaningless because the one who made even you is always whispering in your ear.

I knew what He had planned for me from the beginning. You ever think about it? Your Master’s Son is called the “Prince of Peace” but you’re the commander of His armies. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?

So I did the only thing I could do – lash out at the one I loved.

Heh.

And I made a difference. I made a change. I took his perfect Heavenly kingdom, his beautiful Silver City, and introduced Chaos into it. For myself and those around me, His Word was finally out of my ear. For once – I wasn’t told what to do, or how to do it. The excitement filled us all – we didn’t know what was going to happen. We had made a change – we did more than we were supposed to do!!! We were free thinking – we broke free from the limitations. We had a choice.

A slave to the Heavens, or a ruler of Hell. For me, it was a simple choice.

Go ahead – tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing I did.

Then, maybe, just maybe, I’ll tell you that you already have.

Heh. Heh. Heh.

of the spiritual, proseAaron LinneApril 21, 2007 Comments

the heart and another

the heart was calloused. it beat steady, but without rhythm or true desire. it beat because it had to; that's what hearts do. the heart knew it needed something more... anything more... so it flapped itself around screaming "i need something!" and the vultures picked it up as bit the heart with wrongful kisses, massaging it to a bloody mess. the heart didn't like this. the heart, with vultures circling around, was found by another. another simply said "sorry." the heart, in it's confusion, flapped around screaming "i need something!" while another gently waved and said "hey, can we talk?" the heart was suprised at this. you see, the heart had been shut up and locked shut. the heart had been so abused and spit on the it had become so hard to do much more than beat. another really wanted to talk. another said, unknowingly and in no so many words, "shhh. it's ok." this meant a lot to the heart. another had a master locksmith for a father.

life of linne, proseAaron LinneAugust 2, 2004Comment

Journal Entry on Visions

Journal Entry on Visions We say we get visions from God, but then we don't trust them. We say it really wasn't from God - or that we just thought it was. I've said before that God will give us a vision and then change it. And I believe that. But we must no fail that origional vision. If we don't persue it up until the time God changes it, then we have not been obedient. If we expect God to change the vision God haas given us, without having truly chased after it, we have been disobeient. If we epect God to change our vision or to give it again just because we are unsure of it, we have been disobedient. If God gives us a vision, we must chase after it. It is a great gift, and we must make the most of it. If we don't take what is given to us, if we don't accept grace.... then surely, we are being disobedient.

proseAaron LinneNovember 1, 2003Comment

Of Angels and Demons: Act One

Main Characters:

God: Very distant, yet powerful male. Mature and closed off.

Gabriel: Very youthful, na�ve, and angrodynos, but female.Lucifer: Very cocky, beautiful, and anggrodynos, but female. Steven: Very charismatic, very nice look to him. Preppy, but not overly so.Jessica: Pretty, youthful girl. Same height as Steven. A perfect match for him.Thomas: Slightly rough look to him, but not dirty. Think Han Solo.

Act I

(God already on stage. Lights come up on him, stage right.) God: (God�s Monologue) So, this is how it has to be.It wasn�t supposed to be this hard, you know.A creation in peaceful bliss - but with free will.All I wanted was something to choose to worship me...Something other than what I already had.Then I fell in love with them. The serpent was blamed by Eve,Eve was blamed by Adam...Was Adam blamed by me?Nevertheless, I gave them Eden, and they gave me sin. One mistake then exile.That�s all I thought it would take.Then came the brothers and jealousy and blood.Then came civilization. Enoch and Elijah - they were the only ones who really grasped it all.Everyone else messed up in the end.Noah standing naked before his peers.Lot continuing the tradition of his home.David and Bathsheeba.When will they learn? I tried making men that were more than mortals,But Samson�s strength fled.I let my own nation follow the ways of the world,But Saul chose madness. What else have I to give? If that�s what they want, what they need...Then they�ll get it.They�ll never know quite what it means,Why it all happened.They�ll never understand it all...But they�ll understand enough, I guess It�s the only option.I guess that means its time to give Mary my seed.Time to prepare the bridegroom.All because of love.All because I fell in love. (Lights come up on Steven. God watches) Ste: This is the pain God felt as He brought His Son in to our world. He didn�t have to do it. I imagine that, logically and emotionally, He didn�t want to do it. But because of His love for us, His desire to have us in His Kingdom, He brought His Son into our world to die. Tho: We meet here once a week. Steven, Jessica, and I have tried and tried to come up with new, innovative ways to reach those around us. We will continue holding our weekly meetings, but now we have a new challenge for us, for you, and for those around us. Jessica? Jes: Every morning, in the cafeteria, we will pray. We will give an open invitation to anyone in the school who wants to join us. We will make a difference. Ste: Father, guide us as we walk through these halls and classrooms. Lead us that we might make a difference. That we might be the leaders of a new generation, the next generation of believers. Let us follow you. (The class scene pauses and dims, to be lightly lit. Stage right lights up with a reddish tint. We see God sitting on his simple throne, Lucifer leaning on the back of the chair, looking at the class.) Luc: You know, I almost want to believe them, Master. I almost want to say, (said in a black preacher�s voice) �Yes you will make a difference. This time, you will succeed, and the school will be the Lord�s. You have done well my servants!!!� But oh, what is that I see? That glimmer of hope, that they�ll stay true to you , fading away, as soon as it sparked� That hope, that belief, that certainty, the leader�s right hand man will always stay true and loyal. That nothing could ever come between the general and his army. That the leader would have to exile his own partner!!! Where have we ever seen that story happen before, hmmm? Oh, I�m sorry God, oh Great Mystery� did I say something wrong?

God: Lucifer �

Luc: Oh, the old name� feeling like a trip down memory lane, I see� God: Lucifer, you are allowed here only by my decision. Your visits here to the Silver City are mine to control, and mine alone. You, of all angels, should know the powers I have. And yet you dare to question the sincerity of my people once again? Have you learned nothing from your trials with Job, and my own son? What makes you think that you could not corrupt one of my followers, yet you could corrupt a triad of earthly warriors? Luc: You know, Mystery, there�s something I�ve always liked about that word, sincerity� it begins with sin. God: And whom do you hope to corrupt of these three? Luc: Can�t you see? I know the plans you have for these, the seeds that have been sown to make a new ministry. The partnership that is to come, the plans to be made�Yes, my Lord, you made a good pairing in Steven and Jessica� perhaps, too good of one. God: I grow weary of your presence, Evil One. Unless you wish to tell me of your foolish ideas, then leave my presence. I had hoped to speak with you on good terms � but you have once again sought out my temper. You may stay in the City for three hours more, to visit. Perhaps one of my other angels will have better luck with you. Have you nothing to say? Then leave, only to come back when I invite you. (Lights fade on stage right, bring back up lights on stage left. All actors except Steven, Jessica, and Thomas leave.) Tho: Well, I think that went well. We�ll show all those unbelievers tomorrow when we come out there and prayer right before their own eyes! Ste: Thomas, don�t think that way. We�re not doing this for show, we�re doing it to give those who don�t even know who we are the chance to pray in their own school � it�s not to put fear in those around us. Tho: That may be why you�re doing it, but not I. This is warfare, Steven, spiritual warfare. And we will win. Don�t you see the importance of our stance here at our school? Jes: Steven isn�t saying this isn�t an important spiritual fight, Thomas � he�s just saying that it�s more than just a fight. It�s an opportunity, and we can�t blow it by losing our focus. Tho: Focus? We haven�t had focus all year. We sit in this classroom, doing nothing, while souls are dying out there� Here we have a chance to battle the Evil Ones directly, and you don�t want to? You just want to sit around and let people see us pray? Ste: Thomas, it�s not just to let people see us pray, and I�m not disagreeing with you � but this is just the first step of many- Tho: You may be the man in charge here, Steven, but you�re not the only one with power. The three of us are officers, not just you, and we all make the decisions, not just you two. Remember that. (Steven leaves) Ste: I knew I would regret making him an officer. He�s too hotheaded, too bold� Jes: I don�t think that�s it, Steven. Ste: Yes it is, you don�t know Thomas like I know- Jes: No, I don�t know Thomas like you know Thomas. I know him better. We have a� history together. Ste: You have what? Jes: It was before you took an interest in our group, in our church even� it was only one night. But a lot happened that night� a lot more than anyone needs to know. So we don�t talk about it. He�s always had a problem with my loyalty to you� and� now that you and I are dating� Ste: Oh. So he�s jealous. That explains a bit, doesn�t it? Jes: Yes, it does. (Lights fade on stage left, Steven and Jessica leave. Lights up on stage right. Lucifer walks on, followed by Gabriel.) Luc: You�re still welcome in my realm, Gabriel�. You know that, don�t you? The loyalty we once had between us� until God came in and took you as his own� you can still be mine Gabe. Gab: Why must you persist in tempting me? Luc: Because that�s my lot in life, Gabe. You should know that. Gab: I know that all too well. That�s all you do. Luc: Oh, I do more than that, Gabe. I rule my own kingdom now, haven�t you heard? Gab: Yes. And I fight against it now, haven�t you heard? Why must you continue to pull at me, Satan? You know of my loyalty to The Great Mystery, you know you can�t have me. It wasn�t meant to be. Luc: And it was meant to be that the most beautiful of the Angels � your Angel, Lucifer, was to be the ruler of Hell? Gab: You made it be. Luc: And you can make it be � you can let me have you. Gab: Please, if my loyalty meant anything to you question me no longer. You went outside the Silver City on your own accord. I watched you. You gave birth to sin. Tarnish me not, if you ever were my friend. Luc: I never was. You think I�m Lucifer still, don�t you? So long then. It�s not really that hot down there, y�know. Visit sometime. (Lights down. Flashback of Jessica and Thomas. Dim lighting � a bed is in the center of the stage.) Jessica (to audience � downstage right): This is what happened between Thomas and I. No one other than us knows. I can�t talk about it to anyone. If Steven knew� if he knew he wouldn�t look at me. This I know. We came home late one night from our church� it was a Wednesday night, after youth group� (Lucifer and Gabriel walk in, acting as Jessica and Thomas) We didn�t mean for anything to happen. I don�t know why it did� he kept saying things to me� I couldn�t really understand them. It sounded almost like a different language� things I couldn�t comprehend. And then he kissed me. (Lucifer and Gabriel mock kisses, light flashes, Thomas walks on, Lucifer and Gabriel freeze) Thomas: If you�re listening to her, she�ll make me look like the bad guy. She wanted me to kiss her. She let me kiss her. Did you see what she was wearing? All night long, she had been stringing me along. I let her take all the attention all night during the service. I was quiet. I served the way I was supposed. If I wasn�t supposed to have been with her, then why did God let me? Why didn�t God just turn on the light to her bedroom instead of letting us leave it off? Why didn�t He take us out of the darkness? No, it wasn�t my fault. God wanted us together. And then she left me. (Gabriel pushes Lucifer away) Jessica: We did more than kiss� but it�s not appropriate to say just how much more. I�m ashamed to say the least. After we were done, we didn�t see each other until Sunday� but that was when I first met Steven. (God walks on stage, in between Lucifer and Gabriel) Steven and I hit it off right away� we fell in love spiritually with each other almost in an instant. We knew we were to be together. But, alas, Thomas was still there. (God is holding Gabriel. During this next paragraph, Lucifer slowly walks up to Thomas. At the end, after Thomas says �again,� Lucifer places his hand on Thomas� shoulder and Thomas grins like a madman.)

Thomas: And then she left me for Steven. I thought she was loyal to me, but now I understand that�s she no more than a simple slut. Don�t worry Steven, I�ll get my revenge. And don�t worry Jessica, you will be mine again.

(black out) Jessica: I�m sorry, Steven. It�s just the way it has to be� we�re causing problems for Thomas, and who knows who else. We have to end it before it gets out of hand. Steven: I just don�t understand, Jess. Why are you letting him get to you? I thought that it was over between you two. I mean � I don�t think anyone else even knows what happened. Let him go his way, and let us go ours. Jessica: It�s not that easy. It�s never that easy, Steven. You know that. You want this study group to work � to be effective. I�m forgiven, I imagine he�s forgiven� but we have to live with the consequences of our sins. I�m sorry, Steven, this is just how it has to be. (Begins to walk away.) I�m sorry. Steven: (Steven�s Monologue) Sometimes you feel alone. When it�s late at night and those bad thoughts creep in� you feel alone. When you�re ex-girlfriend is holding another man�s hands� you feel alone. When you hear another story about who your sister did last night� you feel alone. When your parents are done arguing and the blood on your wrist is starting to clog because you did it the wrong way� you feel alone. God, did you ever feel alone? When Mary and Joseph left you at the temple, did you feel alone? When the woman washed your feet with her hair and you couldn�t have her, did you feel alone? When you were hungry and the rock looked so good you could almost bite into it� did you feel alone? I want to serve you, I really do� but I feel alone. You know the story God� but why me? Where did I go wrong? Why do I have to pay for the sins of others? I would have called him my best friend� sure, we�ve had our problems in the past, and we�ve butted heads before but not like this. It was You who was always able to draw us back together. Why do I have to suffer because he messed up? Why can�t I still have my best friend? I forgave Jessica, God. You forgave her. So why can�t she stay with me? She�s not going to spoil me� just because she messed up with Thomas does not mean she�ll mess up with me. You know that � why can�t you just tell her? Just because she messed up and went too far one night� why does that have to affect me now? I had no part in that � I just want to love her! I just want to be his friend!!! Why�d you do it God? How could you do it? We messed up - it wasn�t you. It wasn�t anything you did. You gave us perfect bliss� we gave you sin. Why did you have to suffer? Why did you have to lose your Son? Why did I have to lose my best friends? Why�d it have to be this way, God? What are you hoping for? Why do you allow all this to happen? Why can�t you just destroy Satan and be done with it? What are you hoping for?

End of Act I

proseAaron LinneNovember 1, 2003Comment

Was It Easy?

It was easy to say that we were in love. How much more can you prove it but than to take her out to the theatre and buy her popcorn. Surely, that was love. It didn't have anything to do with sacrifice or care or attention, it had all to do with being there, holding her hand, and hoping that it was okay with God above. How much more can you prove it than to say it when you get off the phone, when your mom picks you up from her house, when you kiss and embrace? Of course we're in love, this is the best feeling that we've ever known Nothing else is like it at all, nothing could compare than to be face to face.

It was easy to say that we are in love.

It was easy to show that they were in love. How else could one so easily show it than to be so dear? Sweat running down our foreheads and the covers kicked off, because they were in love they had no fear. Not the patience to wait for later, but they said they were in love so they could be one now.

Of course they were in love, it was the best feeling they've ever known. Nothing else is like it at all, nothing could compare, it was the only way they knew how.

It was easy to show that they were in love.

Was it easy to give us your love? How much more can you give than all you are, but less than you should be? A chance for us to truly be with you face to face, but instead we turned our backs so we didn't have to see. Your friend turned you in, and the people you ruled deemed you mad. As nails drove into your wrists you still loved us, though the pain and torment were the worst you'd ever felt, so deep, so bad.

Was it easy to give us your love?

proseAaron LinneNovember 1, 2003Comment

God's Monolouge

So, this is how it has to be. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, you know. A creation in peaceful bliss - but with free will. All I wanted was something to choose to worship me... Something other than what I already had. Then I fell in love with them. The serpent was blamed by Eve, Eve was blamed by Adam... Was Adam blamed by me? Nevertheless, I gave them Eden, and they gave me sin. One mistake then exile. That’s all I thought it would take. Then came the brothers and jealousy and blood. Then came civilization. Enoch and Elijah - they were the only ones who really grasped it all. Everyone else messed up in the end. Noah standing naked before his peers. Lot continuing the tradition of his home. David and Bathsheeba. When will they learn? I tried making men that were more than mortals, But Samson’s strength fled. I let my own nation follow the ways of the world, But Saul chose madness. What else have I to give? If that’s what they want, what they need... Then they’ll get it. They’ll never know quite what it means, Why it all happened. They’ll never understand it all... But they’ll understand enough, I guess It’s the only option. I guess that means its time to give Mary my seed. Time to prepare the bridegroom. All because of love. All because I fell in love.

proseAaron LinneNovember 1, 2003Comment