September 30th – Impolitic

Impolitic – adj: not politic: rash

I lifted my hands off the keyboard and reached for my mouse. Right index finger hovering over the left click, cursor hovering over the “Send” button, I reread the email I’d written in a rage fueled fugue.

My heart dropped into my intestines.

In a greeting, three short paragraphs, and a sign off I’d used the word “fuck” twenty-three times, “shit” eleven times, and had called my boss a “cocksucker” on three separate occasions. I’d insulted his intelligence, his ability to do anything, and his right to call himself a human being. I had even slandered his ancestors, specifically his grandmother, in the last paragraph.

I ripped my hand away from the mouse like it was scorching hot lava. Had I already sent the email hurtling towards my boss? The email remained on my screen, unsent. I shifted the cursor away from the “Send” button with a gentle tap on the chord of the mouse. Then in a few deft, panicked motions, I deleted what had to be one of the most impolitic email that had been written in the history of emails.

Worried that somehow it still lingered, I trashed the now blank draft and hit “Reply” to load a fresh email.

I typed my reply out with two fingers, reading it aloud to myself. “Sounds good. I’ll get right on it.”

September 29th – Veld

Veld – n: a grassland especially of southern Africa usually with scattered shrubs or trees

The fact that Africa and Nebraska occupied the same planet baffled Dina. Everything about the place – the animals, the people, the food, and accommodation – were unlike anything she had ever experienced or could have imagined. The world was unfamiliar, strange, and fantastic, but here on the veld, her eyes squinted against the blaring sun, she could almost believe she was standing on the plains of Nebraska.

“Is everything alright, Miss?” Saburo asked, stepping to her side.

Her guide’s concern made her smile. “Yes, I am fine. I have just discovered that even here in Africa, I can see hints of home.”

September 28th – Juxtapose

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Juxtapose – v: to place side by side

Our glasses sat juxtaposed to one another on the dresser. My coke bottle spectacles tucked into their tidy case and his dime store aviators tossed, lens down, and forgotten. They were incongruent and antithetic, mismatched in the extreme, but it was impossible to picture one without the other.

September 27th – Newspeak

Newspeak – n, often capitalized: propagandistic language marked by euphemism, circumlocution, and the inversion of customary meaning: double-talk

The newest Newspeak was so clever, so subtle that is sounded like the truth. It had logic and empathy, it even seemed to have the semblance of liberty. The new propaganda was faultless. Even the most intellectual individuals, the most liberal members of our society had to believe it. That’s what made it so menacing.

September 26th – Prescind

Prescind – v: to withdraw one’s attention

At the age of ten my intellectual obsession had been medieval Europe. I studied the plague, the feudal system, the Crusades. I read every book in my school library, the public library on the subject, even the ones I didn’t understand. From third to sixth grade, I was a youngest expert in the Middle Ages you’d ever met.

And then one book prescinded my love and devotion away from the Middle Ages. The book, something I’d checked out by mistake, took my passion for the Middle Ages and swung it around to Victorian England. Instead of the plague and the Crusades, I studied Industrialism, the Ripper, Thomas Malthus, Charles Dickens, the genesis of the police.

After three years, I couldn’t care less about the Middle Ages; Victoria’s England was the only time in history for me.

September 25th – Robot

Today’s word inspired a story that is still in progress, so this is just part of it.

Robot – n 1a: a machine that looks and acts like a human being b: an efficient but insensitive person 2: a device that automatically performs repetitive tasks

Ethan went out to retrieve the manila envelope from the carpet company and it wasn’t alone in the mailbox. Sometimes Ethan got bills and credit card offers, but nothing like this. A small purple box with a crisp blue ribbon sat atop the envelope. Ethan tucked the manila envelope under his arm and examined the box. It didn’t have an address or a stamp or a postage mark, but his full name was written across it in a delicate silver ink.

He carried the package inside and sat the box on the table, tossing the envelope aside. Who did he know that would send him a present? No one came to mind. He also couldn’t think of anyone who would send him something nasty or dangerous, so he decided to take a risk and open the purple box. He slid off the blue ribbon and pulled open the lid. Inside a small note card sat on top with the message “Because you are lonely” in the same silver handwriting.

Under the card there was pile of small pieces metal and tiny machine parts. At first Ethan didn’t know what to make of the silver, red, and blue bits, but then he saw another piece of paper tucked into the side of the box. He pulled it out and unfolded it to discover a set of picture instructions. Ethan liked puzzles and the instructions looked simple enough, so he began to fit the pieces together. They came together easily, almost as if they were magnetized, piece by piece until he had a four inch robot standing in front of him.

Ethan admired the tiny metal figure. There was something in the bottom of the box that looked an awful lot like a cellphone charger in the bottom of the box. He plugged it into the outlet by his bed and attached the little robot. A few seconds passed and then the little robot began to whir mechanically. The bulbs of its eyes blinked and its wire eyebrows waggled. It opened it mouth three times, testing the bolt of its jaw, and looked up at Ethan.

“Hello,” it said in a tiny mechanical voice, that sounded vaguely British in its precision.

September 24th – Meticulous

Another piece from the world of Golem and Sidereal.

Meticulous – adj: marked by extreme or excessive care in the consideration or treatment of details

“It’s incredible.”

The guard’s voice startled her, but Dr. Clemmons kept staring at the subject, her pen limp in her hand. “Yes, quite,” she replied, her voice far away.

The newest Golem subject, Subject FG0001 sat in her pen with the usual assortment of tools and materials that were given to the Golems at this stage to test for intelligence. Every subject had failed this test, opting for immediate destruction or complete disinterest, but FG0001 was meticulous in her examination. She picked up each item, turned it over in her hands, and set it out on the floor in one of four categories she’d created. Her silent progress, the light of curiosity and intelligence in her face mesmerized Dr. Clemmons.

“Why is this one so different, Doctor?” the guard asked, breaking the silence. “Besides the obvious?”

The guards rarely asked such inquisitive questions and it struck Dr. Clemmons. “Well,” she said, stealing a glance at the young man, “in all the male Golem subjects we have seen high levels of aggression, but nothing that could be classified as intelligence. After a great deal of trial and error, we began to wonder if the levels of testosterone in the subjects might be impacting their mental capacity. With that in mind we created,” she held out her hand towards FG0001, “her.”

The guard let out a short, disbelieving sigh. “Well, if you ask me, it seems like you might be onto something.”

Dr. Clemmons nodded. “Yes, so it appears.”

September 23rd – Agita

Agita – n: a feeling of agitation or anxiety

The agita begins in the toes of my left foot and spreads through my body until it fills every cell. It sweep through my intestines. It settles in my stomach like a rock. My heart pounds in my ears and my head swims with it. I am ball of anxiety in human form, but I keep the smile on my face and refuse to let it overtake me.

September 22nd – Beholden

What choices brought Aria and Edward to confrontation with the guards in Arbalest?

Beholden – adj: being under obligation for a favor or gift: indebted

“I am forever beholden to you, Aria, for your love, your devotion, your friendship, but I cannot be who you need me to be. These are treacherous days and I have to meet them head on. I have to fight.”

Aria stared at him, her face expressionless. “You are such a fool, Edward,” she said with a laugh. “Have you never questioned why I asked  you to train me to use a sword and dagger, an arbalest? You never wondered what use I had for these un-lady like skills?”

Edward shook his head.

Aria moved towards him until they were nose to nose. “My family are a disease on this land and I want to be part of the cure. I want to fight.” She pressed her forehead to his. “I do not need you to be a lord or duke; I need you to be the warrior I fell in love with. I need you to fight. Do you understand me?”

Edward’s mouth dropped open in amazement and he nodded. “Yes, Princess, I understand.”

September 21st – Demeanor

Demeanor – n: a behavior towards others: outward manner

Over the years he had crafted a hard, bitter demeanor. He had schooled his brows to remain furrowed and his mouth had long been etched into a grimace, but his large green eyes gave him away. If you studied them, you could see them light up when something amused him and water when the taunts of the village cut too deep. They alone showed that underneath the gruff armor lived a heartfelt man who had known a lifetime of hardship and heartache. Sadly, no one bothered to look past the angry brows and the frown.

Well, almost no one.