Clothes Free Stories And Fiction

Hopelessly Lost, But Making Good Time #120

Hello, and welcome back to Hopelessly Lost... , the series about making your own comics for cartoonists who are always wishing they could spring forward or fall back more than just a measly hour. Time travel is a fascinating meta-genre and adds a spooky touch to every kind of fiction from adventure to romance to broad comedy. Maybe there's a story like that in your own future. Time travel may or may not be possible. I'm not interested in that, but I do like time travel stories; both as a reader and a creator. Of the two, the reader has the much easier job. Time travel stories can be straightforward or complex, angsty or silly. But what they always are is a whole lot of work, if you want them to be good. Of course, you will have to devise a method of time travel (or several competing ones.) These methods don't have to be realistically scientific, if there is such a thing, but they do have to make sense in the context of the story. But that's only the beginning. If your stories will be set in the past, you will have to do a great deal of historical research for each setting you plan to use. Just how much depends on the nature of the story — generally the more serious the story the more correct and realistic it needs to be, but even a bit of slapstick can benefit from a few well chosen period details. If you choose to move your characters forward in time instead, you are in for a whole pile of worldbuilding as you create a future timeline they can dip into in various places. But before you can do any of this, you have to decide how time works. (Do not attempt this when you already have a headache!) This seems like an impossible task for those of us without an esoteric doctorate, but remember that we are storytellers and are perfectly free to make things up. You don't need to be accurate; you just need to come up with a theory that is internally consistent and fits the kind of story you want to tell. I'm not normally a big one for planning ahead — I generally advise my readers to build a universe by telling stories in it. But a time travel universe has to be planned, or at least the time travel structure does. You as the creator have to know this stuff — it's up to you how much you choose to tell your own readers, and your characters as well. Your stories will almost certainly be better if they remain in the dark for at least a while. The Nature of Time The nature of time is a pain in the neck.

Short Fiction - Rendezvous on Cape May by Autumnwriter

Autumn Writer

© Copyright 2011

A woman is alone.

She is in the sun room of her home, but there is no sun.  It is late in the evening and the sun room has been converted to an exercise salon.  She lies on her back on a mat on the hardwood floor. 

Her breath is rapid and labored.  Perspiration trickles from her brow, running down her temples despite the chill of the air conditioning that shields the summer heat.  The moisture stains through her exercise outfit, a tight second skin that covers her from ankle to shoulder.   It has been a hard workout—they always seem to be hard these days—so she knows that the effort is worthwhile and accepts it is as a necessary regimen. 

The exercise bicycle, on which it all started, glowers at her in silence from its station in the corner.  It reminds her that she can’t lie on her mat all night—as much as the proposition is inviting.  She sighs, then curls to a sitting position, and then hops to her bare feet.

She glances at the clock: eleven-fifteen.  There is just enough time for a hot bath and then to bed.  A busy day awaits her in the morning.  She flips off the light switch as she leaves her salon and the house is dark, save the night light at the top of the stairs.  She pads her way to the beacon, careful to avoid bumping into the furniture.  It is a practiced routine, so she maneuvers with ease.

She mounts the stairs one-by-one feeling stiffness already in her arms and legs, a by-product of her workout.  As she ages she pushes the severity of the sessions forward in notches.  It is the only way to stay ahead of the calendar.

“It’s worth it,” she reminds—or convinces—herself as she scales the final stair.

If only she could entice herself to accept that elegant slide into matronhood, she could dispense with the nightly torture.  There are times that the proposition is inviting.  That, however, is not what she has chosen for herself, comfortable as it might be.  At times, it seems like it might have been a more dignified way to pass the years.  The moment of second-guessing is long past.    

The bath will help.

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She is in her bathroom.  A bottle of purple-colored crystals is on the shelf near the bathtub. She pours out a handful into her palm then sprinkles them into the hot water filling the tub.  Perfume rises with the steam from the gathering suds.  She replaces the stopper in the bottle, returns it to its place then takes in a deep breath and enjoys the scent.  Enjoying little pleasures, she reminds herself, is an art-form.  All—large and small—pleasures are meant to be savored, each in its turn.  She is an artist.