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Friday, December 27, 2013

Goals for 2014

It is that time of year to evaluate how my goals for the current year panned out, and to establish new goals for the coming year, in this case, 2014.

Blog Goals


On January 14th, I wrote a blog post about goals for this blog. I promised to:


  1. No matter what I write about, I will focus on it being entertaining. That has to be the number one goal.

  2. I will do a fiction story a month, probably a flash fiction, but I’m not guaranteeing it will only be those.

  3. I will do something funny. Whether that be a “comedy” routine, or a character interview, etc., once a month.

  4. I will endeavor to post once a week, around Monday or Tuesday, not counting announcement posts, or future how-to articles, so readers will know what to expect.



My success on #1, I'll have to leave it with the readers how successful I've been at that. Based on commenting, my most entertaining post have been those on marriage leading up to announcing the publishing of my book, Healing Infidelity. Otherwise, it has mostly been crickets chirping on most posts. However, page views have slowly declined over the year. That could be due to the shift in my blog content, so a natural drop off of how-to seekers coming my way. Or it could be I've not succeed as well at being entertaining. It could be my more eclectic approach to be entertaining means I alienate more than I'm gaining.

On #2, I've been pretty successful. Though none of the stories made it into the top ten most viewed posts. That said, I think those may be my most productive aspects for several reasons:

  1. It forced me to write short fiction. I'd practically abandoned it in my focus on novels over the past years. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to write it.

  2. Writing is always productive work for a writer.

  3. I still feel the primary goal of the blog should be to entertain, and the best way to do that is to tell an entertaining story.

  4. At the end of the year, I'll have a new anthology book I can create and sell.

  5. The best advertising for my novels is showing I can write fun stories. People that sample my writing will be more likely to consider buying my novels.


For those reasons, I plan to continue writing one original short story/flash fiction a month in the coming year.

On #3, I didn't keep up with it as I had planned. If I'd kept people in stitches all year, maybe I'd been more successful. Who knows.

#4, I posted at least once a week all year, but fell off the wagon during November, and picked back up in early December. However, when during the week varied quite a bit. Plenty of times I posted late in the week instead of early.

So, after evaluating things, here is my goal for my blog during 2014:

  1. Continue to work on the entertaining factor.

  2. Post one original story a month on the blog.

  3. The rest of the time to post some combination of comedy, theology, how-to articles. No promise on a schedule.  What ever floats my boat, but with the goal to be entertaining and if it fits, informative.

  4. To post at least once a week, probably around Thursday or Friday, but no promises.


Novel Goals


Though I don't think I wrote it down last year, I recall setting a goal to publish 4 novels in 2013. As it turned out, I've ended up with 2 new published books, Healing Infidelity and Virtual Game. I also published a couple of novelette-length books. One, the Virtual Hero ebook, and a non-fiction booklet, Celebrating the Fullness of Christmas. Didn't hit my goals, but did take some steps forward.

You'd think my lack of success would mean I should trim my expectations back. Nay, my friend. Here is my list of books I hope to publish in 2014:

  1. The Magic Within - New series. Written and in editing.

  2. Reality Game - Virtual Chronicles series. Started writing, barely. Will need to finish it and go through the process.

  3. Underground - Need to change the name, but is my serial experiment. Partially written.

  4. Healing Infidelity Through Faith - Follow up to Healing Infidelity, written more specifically to the Christian market. Just started writing.

  5. Poetry Book - No name yet, but plan on publishing a compilation of my poetry.

  6. Anthology - Not set in stone since some of my monthly stories went into the Virtual Hero novelette, so may want to wait and make it a 2013 - 2014 anthology.

  7. Devotional - Started writing a devotional on the parables. I want to finish that this year.


So, yeah, I plan on keeping busy writing this coming year.

In addition to that, I'll being doing weekly blog post at Speculative Faith blog and Healing Infidelity blog. So pray for me. I'm going to need it.

Also, if you want to keep up with this blog, you have the option of subscribing by RSS feed, or by email. So you don't miss a thing. Thank you for your support over this past year. Looking forward to an even better year in 2014.

Monday, December 16, 2013

2013 Top Ten Blog Articles

I'm giving thought to my blog, to decide what, if any changes I want to make to my approach for 2014. At the end of 2012, I saw an increase in my blog readership. One of the high viewed articles was my Christmas story I had posted. I believe it did so well due to the message about changing the name of Christmas, which seemed to resonate with a wide audience and get shared around.

So I concluded from that data at the time that people would mostly want to be entertained. In fact, it made sense to me that the best way to convince people that my published books would be entertaining to read, would be to show I could accomplish the same on my blog. To that end, I decided for 2013, that I'd post once a week at a minimum, one short story, one humorous article, one writer's article, and one theological article per month. As the year progressed, I pretty much did one article a week up until November. And the planned article subject schedule didn't stick completely save I did successfully post one new and original short story each month.

Problem is, none of the short stories made it into the top ten. The highest ranked one is The Three Little Pigs, or How to Invest Wisely at 13th. Readers spent an average of 5.5 minutes reading it. That probably ranked highest out of my stories due to people searching for investment advice from my comedic retelling of the fairy tale. Probably not what they were looking for, but read it anyway. The next story doesn't make it into the first 25.

Ironically, despite my focus, the articles in the top ten are all non-fiction oriented. A combination of my ebook publishing how-tos, related to my book, How to Make an Ebook: Using Free Software, and the ones on marriage introducing my book, Healing Infidelity: How to Build a Vibrant Marriage After an Affair.

Following is my list of articles in descending order:

#3 for many years, being the oldest in the list, ranked #1. Now #1 is by far ahead, with more than double the page views of #2, 2,826 views during 2013. My quandary is that while I'm great with providing the non-fiction how-to's and thankful for the traffic they generate, I know that traffic is probably not going to be that interested in checking out my fiction. They come to get info they've searched for and are not likely to be in the mindset to buy fiction while they are here unless it is totally an impulse buy.

As I evaluate the direction to take with my blog this coming year, this is an opportunity for my regular followers to throw in their opinions of what they'd like to see. More theologically oriented articles? More how-to's? Continue the free monthly fiction stories or pare them back? Add something I've not been doing?

Another consideration. From feedback I've received, my novel's most rabid fans are in MG and early YA. If I were to target that audience with this blog, what kinds of articles would you expect to see here? Probably not how-to articles.

Thanks for your input, and I look forward to another year of interaction.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

What Does the Tree Say?

"Dad, what about that one?" asked Jerry.

Doug wiped the accumulated snow from his glasses. "Too young, son." A live Christmas tree, she wanted. The artificial tree had sufficed for years. Why her sudden desire for a live one? It only added more work to an overburdened to-do list.

His boots crunched the new fallen snow as they weaved through the trees. The crisp smell of freezing air prompted him to tighten his hood while he cradled an ax in his elbow against his body. Jerry, his five-year-old son, dashed ahead of him.

Doug recalled Joan's words, "I want a live tree. Not the farm-raise trees they sell in the lots. I like my Christmas tree wild and fresh!"

What had gotten into that woman? It was a tree. Not a fish. But she had her heart set on one, so he was traipsing through a forest in knee-deep snow, trying to find a wild Christmas tree.

"Dad, Dad! I found one. Come and see!" Jerry's young voice pierced the still air.

A full moon lit the sky, highlighting his path. Doug rounded a large, snow-laden fur. He froze.

The perfect Christmas tree glowed, casting shadows from surrounding trees. Its light wasn't a reflection of the moon, but radiated from within. Doug sucked in a deep breath.

"See, Dad. Isn't it perfect?"

Doug let the ax handle slide through his glove until he gripped the end. "She wants wild? This should fit the bill." He picked a clear shot to the trunk and waved his left hand. "Stand back, son. Don't want to hurt you."

Jerry hopped, clapping his hands. "Yippe!" He moved backward five leaps.

Doug placed the ax head against the trunk to line up the swing. "Let's get this over with." He pulled the ax back until it lined up with his shoulder, then swung down with all his might. The blade connected with the wood.

A bright light flashed, blinding Doug. A force shoved him off his feet, burying him into the snow on his back.

Doug blinked a few times. His eyes focused on the night stars from within his icy-walled canyon. The tree-tops reached into the night sky.

What had happened? Doug wiggled his fingers and toes. Didn't feel like he'd broken anything. He pushed himself up with his elbows. "Jerry, you okay?"

A growl echoed through the cold air. The face of a fox sat inches away from Doug's.

Doug gulped. "Nice foxie."

"Who gave you authority to cut down the tree?" The fox's nose flared.

Doug's jaw dropped.

"Come on human scum. Who?"

"You're . . . you're talking!"

"And you're stalling." The fox bared his fangs. "Confess! By who's authority?"

Doug shook his head. Had he hit his head on a rock? He felt the back of his skull for a wound but found none. Why was a fox asking him this question, even if it could talk.

Doug rubbed his forehead. "My wife, Joan."

The fox cocked his head. "Don't know any Joan." He turned his head behind him. "Clive, you take over. I'm not getting anywhere."

A fluttering noise broke through the night air. An owl's face peered into Doug's ice canyon. "My, my, my! What have we here? I should think one would consider the repercussions when considering random acts of violence against trees."

Doug rubbed his eyes. An owl with a British accent? Now he knew he was hallucinating. "You don't have any lips. How can you talk?"

Clive flapped his wings. "Sir, I don't consider offending me a plus to your case. If you'd be so good as to answer our questions, we'll be done with it and on our way."

Doug breathed deep. Nothing to do but play along with this bizarre story line. "Mind if I sit up?"

"See," the fox said. "The hairless pup is worthless."

Clive's head rotated behind him. "That's quite enough, Mr. Furball." He pivoted his eyes back to Doug. "If you'll answer our questions, please proceed."

Doug pushed himself into a sitting position. Clive perched on a branch protruding from the snow drift. Mr. Furball sat on his haunches by a tree a few feet away. The glowing tree radiated beside them. A hole in the snow in the shape of an ax marked the location of his tool.

But no sign of his son. "Did you see a little boy?"

Clive ruffled his feathers. "Enough! You'll answer our question first."

Doug sighed. "What question was that?"

Clive let out an owl hoot. "Who!"

Doug smiled. Now the owl was making a pun. He might need a shrink after this. Or at least a drink. Maybe a drink with a shrink.

Doug scratched his whiskered chin. "You mean on who's authority? I told you already. If that isn't good enough, I don't know what you're looking for."

"Unless you're name is Joan, and you don't fancy that name at all, that is no answer."

They probably had some city hall run by a mayor badger that issued permits. There's no way he could guess. "I don't have anyone's authority. All I wanted to do is get a Christmas tree. Is that a crime?"

Clive glanced at Mr. Furball. "So you do have authority to cut down the tree?"

Doug stared at Clive. "I do?"

"You just said it. Who?"

Authority? "Uh, the Doctor?"

Clive folded his wings over his head.

Mr. Furball dashed toward them, sliding to a stop, snow falling into Doug's lap. "What does the tree say?"

Doug fixed his eyes on the tree, its tip pointing into the vast array of stars. He raised his eyebrows. "Christmas tree. Christ. Jesus Christ."

Darkness swallowed Doug. His eyes flickered open. Paramedics swarmed around him as he lay in the snow.

"He's responding."

Jerry's face popped into view. "Dad! You'll be all right."

A paramedic pulled plates from his chest. "Mr. Stilwell, your son saved your life. He used your cell phone to call 911. You had gone into cardiac arrest. Luckily we were in the area."

Doug frowned. He had been hallucinating. Yet it had felt so real. He glanced toward the tree. It lay on the ground, the trunk cut cleanly in two. Only the moonlight glistened against the snow stuck to its leaves.

In the distance, an owl cried out, "Who?"

Doug yelled back, "Who!"

Jerry smiled. "The tree points to Him. That's why you're alive."

Doug grinned. It took his son, a fox, an owl, and a tree to drive home the truth. Christmas isn't about a list of whats, but a who. Who the tree points to.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Growing Through Tragedy



Good stories are about people encountering conflict and how dealing with it causes the character(s) to become more than they are. Usually stories take that to the extreme. I've often said if I had half of the bad things happen to me that Sisko does in Reality's Dawn, I'd be in a mental ward.

Sometimes, however, bad things do happen to us. Most of us have experienced them. If you haven't, you likely will at some point. The rain falls on the good and the bad. God hasn't promised to prevent tragedy from raining on His children, despite what some prosperity gospel preachers might say.

The real question when tragedy hits isn't "Why me?" It's "Who will I become because of this?"

Like my fictional characters, how will facing painful situations help me to grow as a person? If fiction, especially Christian fiction teaches us anything, it should teach us that attitude.

Earlier this year I revealed that I discovered my wife of 29 years had been having an affair, back in May 11, 2011 upon the release of our book, Healing Infidelity: How to Build a Vibrant Marriage After an Affair. I'd consider that trauma the worst I've had so far in my short life. The betrayal left a wake of destruction for both of us, which after two years, we still deal with.

While there are plenty of negatives from it, God has also made me, made us, better people for having gone through it. Our recovery has made us and our marriage stronger than it has ever been.

This year I'm faced with a new betrayal. My body. I've been officially diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. It has already cut my typing speed in half. As the years go by, I can expect it to get worse and worse, barring a medical breakthrough. Currently there is no cure, nor do they know what causes it in most cases. It is currently the second largest neurological disorder in the world, so I have plenty of company.

I debated telling very many about this. I'm not doing so to get sympathy. Prayers would be appreciated, though. Nor is it a "woe is me" lament. I mention these things for two main reasons.

One, because these events, bad as they are, have become part of my identity. If you want to know me, those events along with many others make me who I am today. I'm not going to introduce myself to people as a guy with Parkinson's, like some gay people tend to do. But it is part of my history. Barring God removing this "thorn," it will be my future.

Two, to show that God can take what was meant for evil and bring good out of it. God can use this disease to make me a better person, closer to Him. He can use it toward my salvation.

How? I probably don't know all the ways He'll do that. But I've already got one plan in mind. I want to write a fiction book using a person with Parkinson's as the main character and donate the proceeds to the Michael J. Fox Foundation.

The point is the big crisis we face in life can make us or break us. That is the point of most of our stories. It is the point of our lives. That is how we grow.

What crisis in your life has God used for your good?

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Virtual Game is Here!

Book 3 of The Virtual Chronicles is available: Virtual Game!


Just when Jeremy, Mickey, and Bridget think the worst is behind them, a new threat to Zori and the entire virtual world arises. Not from a distant planet, but from Earth.

When ESEL, a mysterious, Earth-based military organization, threatens not just Zori but the entire virtual world, Jeremy, Mickey, and Bridget's virtual superpowers are compromised. Natalie gains superhuman powers, pitting the trio against each other. Even the Overlords can't stop ESEL from gaining control of the Virtual Machine.

Will the four superheroes in this space opera style science fiction adventure be able to navigate the twists and turns thrown at them by ESEL and their own emotions to defeat ESEL's plot? Like books one and two, this middle grade/young adult focused novel is accessible for adults who enjoy fun, mystery, suspense, and an exciting superhero, space opera romp.

Jump aboard and say with Mickey, "Let's do this!"

Currently available in print and ebooks at Amazon and Smashwords. Visit the book's webpage for direct links and to read a sample. Other outlets soon to follow.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Mayhem Negotiations

This story resulted from throwing two more titles together to form a new one as a writing prompt. I also challenged our local writing club to come up with their version for tonight's meeting. Enjoy.

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"Don't tell me you forgot?" Mary sighed over the phone.

Tom fumbled with his desk calendar. "Honey, of course not." Today was May 15th. What happened on the 15th?

"What do you have planned?"

"Ah, a birthday party."

She huffed. "No! Not a birthday."

Tom snapped his fingers. Their 20th wedding anniversary. "Yes, a birthday. The birthday of our 20-year marital bond."

Her voice grew softer. "You did remembered?"

He laughed. "Forget our 20th? Are you kidding?"

"How are we celebrating it then?"

Think, think. He palmed his forehead. "You remember that Italian restaurant we ate at during our honeymoon? We have reservations."

She squealed. "I can't wait! I love you, honey."

"I love you too. I'll pick you up around six."

"Bye."

"Bye." He wiped his brow. Narrowly escaped that one. He pushed the intercom button. "Barbara, call Andiamo Ristorante and make reservations for two at six."

"Right away, Mr. Longshot."

Tom turned his attention to his paperwork. Sharp raps rattled his office door. His boss, Ben, opened the door and stood before Tom's desk. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

Not again! "Who me? Forget?"

Ben stared at him. "You did, didn't you?"

"How could I forget...ah, the birthday party."

Ben frowned. "Since when is meeting an advertising client a birthday party?"

Ah. Of course. "Meeting new clients is the birth of a new beginning. We're meeting with the owners of Andiamo Ristorante at..." Tom swallowed.

Ben pointed at Tom. "They'll be here at six. Don't be late."

Tom smiled and threw his hands up. "Where else would I be but here?"

Ben smiled and nodded. "See you at six." He left, closing the door behind him.

Tom let his head fall into his hands. "Now what am I going to do? I'm doomed."

"Perhaps I can help?" A sweet woman's voice met Tom's ear.

He jerked up his head. A young woman, black hair, wearing a tight, blue, knee-length skirt with matching blouse stood against the far wall.

Tom cleared his throat. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

She waved her hand: sparkles grew and died off in its wake. "I'm your fairy secretary. Were you expecting your godmother?"

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "A fairy what?"

She frowned. "Secretary. All executives have one."

She walked to his desk. "I know your predicament. You need a double."

Tom sat back up. "You can do that?"

"Just watch." She waved her hands in a figure eight pattern, then thrust them toward him. Sparkles engulfed him, then moved in unison next to Tom. As they died off, a second Tom stood beside the original.

Tom looked over the double as it did the same. "Wow," both Tom's said at the same time.

Tom paused, then turned to his fairy secretary. Both said, "Does he say everything I do?"

The fairy secretary nodded. "It is one of the limitations of a double. It doesn't have its own independent thought."

"That's annoying. How am I supposed to do both at the same time?"

She smiled. "It will take a little language negotiation. Chow." She disappeared into thin air.

Tom stared at himself. "Now not only can I talk to myself. I can talk back too."

----------------


Mary and Tom entered the restaurant. The head waiter greeted them. "Your name, sir?"

"Tom Longshot."

"Glad to meet you." The owner put out a hand to shake. "I'm Louie Armori, and this is my wife, Loraine. I look forward to your presentation."

The waiter said, "Ah, here you are." He checked off their name. "Follow me."

Tom shook Louie and Loraine's hands. "I look forward to it as well."

The waiter looked over his shoulder. "Sir?"

"Eating at your restaurant." Tom grinned at Mary's inquiring stare.

Louie and the waiter said at the same time, "Ah! You've not eaten here/there before?"

Tom swallowed. "Twenty years ago. Been a while."

Ben rose and proceeded to give some introductory comments to the Armoris while the waiter seated Tom and Mary.

After the waiter left, Mary gazed upon Tom. "You've been quiet tonight. What's going on in your brain?"

Tom whispered, "Waiting to start."

She raised an eyebrow. "Start what?"

Ben frowned at Tom. "My accomplice is ready. Tom?"

Tom cleared his throat. "Romance."

Mary leaned in closer. "Here?"

"Food is romance."

Louie nodded. "Catchy slogan. I like it."

Mary wrinkled her brow. "So you're waiting to eat before talking?"

Tom danced in his mind. "Romance is more than a touch, more than a feeling. Romance is two people bonding through the intimate act of eating with sexual appeal." Tom placed his hand on Mary's. "Then a touch is transformed into romance."

Mary gazed into his eyes. "How sweet."

Ben stared at Tom with a "what are you doing" expression.

Loraine smiled. "I like him."

Louie pointed a finger at Tom. "Great, but how do we get that across to the public?"

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine. "Are you ready to order?"

Tom replied in his sexiest voice, "Shrimp Alfredo, garlic bread, and a salad topped with your finest blue cheese dressing."

Louie sat taller. "Ah, I see. The TV ad will show a couple sexily ordering, then the slogan, 'Food is romance.' Brilliant!"

Ben's wide eyes stared at Tom. "Yeah, brilliant. That's what I told him."

Mary grinned. "Oh Tom, I've never heard you order food that way before." She glanced at the waiter. "I'll have the same."

Louie rose from his chair and extended his hand. "You've sold me."

Tom shook his hand. "I'm happy we're going to work together."

Mary's face fell. "What?"

Tom grabbed a glass of wine. "Here's to a fabulous future together."

Mary leaned over and kissed Tom. "I love you."

Louie gave him a thumbs up. Tom watched as Louie and Loraine followed Ben to the elevator.

Tom let out a deep breath. "Glad that's over."

Monday, November 4, 2013

Free on Kindle!

Virtual HeroVirtual Hero, my collection of four superhero, space opera short stories set in the Virtual Chronicles universe, is now available for free on Amazon Kindle!

The collection has been free for some months on other sites, but I'd been waiting for Amazon to price match. They finally did so within the last few days. So if you've been saying, "I want it--oh do I want it--but I'll wait for it to be free on Amazon first," well, your wait is over.

Go to Amazon to download your copy today.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

NaNoWriMo: Day 3

Today ended up pointing the nose of this plane into  a steeper dive. Luckily, in the next few days, I should have more time to work on the novel.

Arose at 7 am, we prepared for church and took our 45 minute trip there. Arrived back home around 2 pm. Not too much time had passed before diving into my afternoon nap. Woke up at 6:30 pm. After getting the sleep out of my eyes, helping wife get the shopping list together, and going out to eat, we filled a cart at our local grocery store. Returned home, took out the trash, helped put away groceries, and had a mini-meeting between wife and son #1.

By the time I returned to my computer, the clock read around 12:30 am. Made some deposits, and pulled up a blog post I'd written earlier for my new gig. Oh, did I mention it? I am going to be doing those weekly blog post I mentioned earlier. I'd say where, but not sure I should yet. You'll find out soon enough as my first post is scheduled to go live Tuesday morning.

Took a break editing and adding the blog post to the site to put my wife to bed a little after 2 am. She was up late. Continued to work on getting the blog post the way I wanted it as well as trying to make sure I did things the way they wanted. That took me up until 4 am.

I looked at the time and decided working on the novel isn't going to happen tonight. Sundays just don't have much extra time in them. But as stated, this coming week looks a little freer to focus on the novel. So we'll see if I can redeem the last few days over the coming week. Riveting, huh?

Reality Game totals:

Day 1: 961 words in 2.5 hours, for an average of 384 words/hour.
Day 2: 807 words in 1.5 hours, for an average of 538 words/hour.
Day 3: 0 words in 0 hours, for an average of 0 words/hour.

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Total: 1768 words in 4 hours for an average of 442 words/hour.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

NaNoWriMo: Day 2

Up from bed today by 11 am. Being I went to bed at 2:30 am, a good amount of catch up sleep. A little more of a relaxed day, though my weekends tend to be fuller. Spent time with wife, ate breakfast, checked email and blogs. Did a little support group writing, but kept it to one thread.

Then started getting ready for the evening church service. Put together my binder, cleaned up, and wife and I headed out the door by 5 pm.  We returned to the city and stopped to eat at a local Mexican restaurant. Returned home shortly after 9:30 pm. Checked more email, responded to another support group thread, and a blog comment, then put my wife to bed around midnight.

Read a new blog post I follow that reminded me this ended Daylight savings time (Okay, how many of you arrived at church an hour early?). That caused me to try and change the time on my watch an hour back. It is an old digital watch I bought in 1982, a few months before my wife and I were married. The buttons on the side are hard to get to work. After a lot of struggling, I finally got the time changed. So I sat down at my computer at 1:30 to write, after getting some water.

I knew I wouldn't get much done, as I needed to get to bed early since I get up early for church. But I wanted to record something. So I dove in. Considering that I spent some time researching on Google Maps, and my Parkinson's doesn't allow me to type as fast as I used to, I did pretty good. When I stopped at 3 am, I'd written 807 more words in 1.5 hours. Then off to write this blog post and get to bed Should be snoozing before 4 am hits, and I'll get at least 3 hours of sleep. Don't worry, I have a planned afternoon nap to catch up. Standard Sunday  routine.

Reality Game totals:

Day 1: 961 words in 2.5 hours, for an average of 384 words/hour.
Day 2: 807 words in 1.5 hours, for an average of 538 words/hour.

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Total: 1768 words in 4 hours for an average of 442 words/hour.

Friday, November 1, 2013

NaNoWriMo: Day 1

Woke up around 7:45 am, giving me just under 2 hours of sleep. Ate breakfast while checking email and FB. Prepared, and I was underway with wife and son #1 to Austin around 9:45. Arriving at 11, we all three start packing and loading up our Ford Focus. Son #2 is supposed to meet us at 12:30, but he overslept and missed his morning classes. So he arrives more at 1 pm. We load the rest of son #1's material goods into second car, a PT Cruiser.  Wife gets hungry, so after dropping the key off at the school, we go get a bite to eat.

We leave with a little drama over how son #2 is going to pay for his new car. Finally they say they are okay with a personal check. But now we're pressed for time, because the DMV closes at 4:30. So we drive back from Austin and get to the DMV at 4:00 pm. They do the transaction and transfer the title over to son #2, who is now the proud owner of a 2002 Ford Taurus.

We head home, unload the two vehicles. Mom and son #2 go to pick up his car. Meanwhile, I get in some quick FB time before cooking dinner, shrimp stir fry. Sit down to eat sometime after 7 pm. I'm feeling the affects of running on minimal sleep, so I don't feel like doing much. So I end up watching YouTube videos until almost 11 pm. Wife is tired too, so I put her to bed.

11:30, I sit down at my computer to write, even though I'm not feeling much into it. But I want to at least get started on this novel. So I get "rolling" on it and type away, getting in 961 words by 2 am. I'm struggling, so decide it will be better to call it a night, get some sleep, and hope to get more time tomorrow.

Reality Game totals:

Day 1: 961 words in 2.5 hours, for an average of 384 words/hour.

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Total: 961 words in 2.5 hours for an average of 384 words/hour.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

NaNoWriMO: Day 0.5

I've decided, both to help me be accountable, and to give folks a glimpse into what I do for NaNo, to do a daily log of my progress much like I did for my attempt at a 10 day novel challenge a few weeks ago.

For those not familiar, NaNoWriMo, or simply NaNo, is short for "National Novel Writing Month." During the month of November, millions of people from all over the world sign into a central website to track their attempt to write at least 50,000 words of a novel, and compare/compete with friends and regions. While there are several versions of this concept around, this one has by far become the most popular and widely participated event of its kind.

I've done NaNo since 2006. This will make my eighth one. Only one year, 2011, did I write less than 50K words. Most of my novels have been written during November each year.

This year has some unique challenges. One, while my "work" schedule isn't as heavy as has been the case in years past, it seems I have several projects that I'll need to work on this month that will take time away from writing.

One, I'm working on finishing edits and getting ready to send to the printer my third novel in The Virtual Chronicles series, Virtual Game. I had hoped to have that done by this point, but I'm still working on edits. I'll have to juggle both tasks until I get that novel sent to the printer and ebooks uploaded. You'll be getting my progress on that here as well, and of course an announcement when it is available for Christmas orders.

Two, I'm president of our local writer's club, and early this month we'll be celebrating our 20th anniversary. So for the first few days, I'll be devoting some time and energy toward that.

Three, around Thanksgiving, my family and I are going on a trip from Texas to Mississippi to visit my daughter, son-in-law, his relatives, and of course, our two grandkids. One is a step, the other will be our biological granddaughter not even 1 year old yet. That will not likely be much writing time, and it is right at the end of the month this year. So the goal is to have this novel finished before we leave on this trip, as the month will be pretty much over by the time we get back.

Four, I have a regular weekly blog post I do at http://blog.healinginfidelity.com that I want to keep up with. So I'll need to devote time to preparing those, a task I've not had in years past. News flash, it is possible I'll be adding yet another weekly blog post to that schedule. I should know on that in a few days.

Five, as of this point, I'm getting the slowest start I've ever had for NaNo. I've been so busy with helping my wife clean houses (pretty much my job now, part time), dealing with our children's issues, while trying to get projects done, including chores around the house, and adequate time with my wife, that I've come to midnight, the start of NaNo, not having given a second thought to what I'm going to write. As a matter of fact, at midnight, I was still trying to help my son get insurance for a car he is buying tomorrow...or later today as it stands. So, that is a good lead into logging my day.

Got up from bed around noon (yes, I have a late schedule). Took care of some deposits, calling about my son Nathan's broken lease obligations (he dropped out of culinary school and is back home now...empty nest now officially over for the time being), checked email and blogs while eating oatmeal and drinking coffee. Then responded to a request at a support group I'm on. Spent some time responding to that. My wife is home before 3:00 pm, unusual for her, but the last client of the day cancelled at the last minute. We didn't complain too much as we've both felt worn out working over the last three days.

So we put signs on our car for the business, and when son at home was getting too frustrated with the mower, I had to take over and mow the front lawn so trick-o-treaters wouldn't have to be greeted by long grass. Meanwhile, wife starts working on cooking the pizza, but discovers we never bought any pizza sauce, nor do we have anything to make it with. Nathan and his friend have pizza and a movie, so wife and I decide we'll go out and stay out until most of the kids have gone through (our street is congested with people between 7 and 9. So around 6:45, wife  and I get in the car, work our way out of the neighborhood through an already growing bevy of kids with parents in tow, and go eat pizza, visit WalMart and the new Specs (they sell roasted coffee from around the world!) We return home a little after 9 pm.

Well, you'd think now I could start preparing for my NaNo novel. Nope. My son, Jeremy, at UT, is meeting us at Nathan's old apartment to help us move him fully back home, then while here, buy a car and get the title changed before heading back to Austin. Since he's never had his own personal insurance, that means we needed to get him some, at the last minute, of course. So after going through three company quotes, we select one, get him processed, and by 1 am, he has insurance on his new car. Meanwhile, I know people all over the world are busy typing away on their novels.

Then I had to focus on getting wife to sleep. By the time I sat down with some hot blueberry tea and a bowl of prunes and cashews, it was well after 2 am. So now I for the first time start thinking about what I'm going to write about, what story I'm going to do. After thinking about it, since I'm editing the third book in the series and I'll need the fourth for next year, out of my options I decided to work on the next novel in that series, which I've tentatively titled Reality Game. So I opened up my writing database, copied over the list of characters from Virtual Game, modified them accordingly, then started thinking what the story should be about.

This was a little more difficult than it may seem. Without giving away any spoilers, the dynamic of things changes for the heroes at the end of Virtual Game. So the biggest issue I needed to deal with was what the bad guys are going to do now, based upon how events ended previously. After 1.5 hours of thinking and writing some preliminary plot thoughts down, I finally have enough rough draft plot outline, at least the start of it, to have an idea where to take things. Don't know how it will end, but I know how it will start and what the primary conflict is going to be about. Enough to start writing the story.

However, by the time I figured that much out, it was getting close to 4 am. Due to going to Austin to help move son #1 back home, I'm getting up at 7. So I figured I'd better write this blog post and get to bed. This will make the first NaNo I go to bed on day one without any word count in place. That puts me behind starting out at the gate.

Another obsticle is also doing these blog posts. They will not all be this long. To not take too much time away from writing, most of these will be bare bones "here's what happened". But this being an introductory post required a bit more work. Now that it is 5 am, and I'll get just under 2 hours of sleep, I'll sign out and give a full report on how day 1 went.

Stay tuned virtual fans. Same virtual blog. Same virtual URL.

Reality Game Progress: 0 words, but 1358 for this blog post. Does that count? Hum. I didn't think so.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Eating Idol Meat This Halloween?

This coming October 31st kicks off the holiday season. Today, I received my first ever Halloween card from one of my brothers. And so it begins.

Along with the holidays, at least on the Christian side, comes the charges that participating in certain activities that are believed to be of pagan origin, will in essence put one in fellowship with pagan beliefs and practices. Of the three coming holidays, Halloween gets the brunt of these accusations.

After all, dressing up kids as witches, ghosts, demons, and other mythical pagan creatures certainly looks bad. Then throw in that Satanic worshipers deem Halloween to be their big feast day of the year, and it is understandable why many Christian groups shy away from it.

Like many churches, our parish plans on holding a "Fall Festival" this coming Sunday, allowing our kids to dress up as "safe" characters and play some games to win candy. Ironically, our churches are doing exactly what the Catholic Church did. Due to the pagan worship, they introduced celebrating "All Saints Day" in an effort to replace the honoring of pagan myths with heroes of our faith.

But as secular society is want to do, it incorporated elements of both. The evening before All Saints Day, known as "All Hallowed Eve," was condensed to Halloween. Over time, certain practices were borrowed, stripped of their religious meaning, and turned into fun times to enjoy. Like secularization did for Christmas, it did for both pagan and Christian elements of Halloween.

Which is why the common rebuttal to the above Christian concerns is it doesn't currently have any pagan meaning. Dressing up as a vampire and going trick or treating is no more participating in pagan rituals and beliefs than claiming reading a story about Santa Claus causes one to participate in Christianity.

Both sides have a point. Which is why this issue is very similar to the issue of eating meat offered to idols. For one person, to participate is to participate in paganism. For another, it is an innocent, fun activity for the kids. Paul says one's conscious is the guide in this case.

Which means two things, both of which Paul pointed out in his epistle to the Romans:
Let not him who eats despise him who does not eat, and let not him who does not eat judge him who eats; for God has received him. (Rom 14:3 EMTV)

One, he who chooses not to participate in traditional Halloween activities, refuse to judge and convict those who do in hopes of stopping them.

Two, those who decide it is all right to participate in dress up and trick or treat should not belittle or encourage those who believe it is wrong to change their minds, causing them to stumble in their faith.

The "no judging" rule flows both ways, whether you are the weaker brother or not.


What are your plans this October 31st?

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Micro-Fiction: Slimdown Tantrum

Decided to write a "micro-fiction" story.  While there's no set definition for the term, in my experience it is a story of around 300 words or less. I've done a 100 word micro-fiction back in 2008, still on the web at the Resident Aliens blog, called, "The Battle." Flash fiction is usually defined as being 1000 words or less, by comparison.

To title my micro-fiction and use it as a prompt, I visited Foxnews.com again to find the words of the title, "Slimdown Tantrum." As I write these words, I've not even started thinking much about what the story is about. No idea at this point. The trick is to tell a whole story with scene setting, character development, and a beginning, middle, and end plot within 300 words. What follows is my attempt. We'll see how I fared. At the end, I'll relate any relevant info about the process once done.

-----------------------


"Thank you for flying Angel Flights." The perky stewardess tugged her miniskirt uniform down. "We handle the space race so you don't have to." She plastered on a smile. "We'll arrive at Moonbase Gama in five hours. "

Her smile morphed into a sympathetic frown. "Unfortunately, slimdown is in effect to escape Earth's gravity. Did anyone bring any unchecked luggage?"

The nine passengers glanced at each other. No one spoke up.

The stewardess bit her lip. "If not, someone will have to take another flight.  Who will volunteer?"

Several stared at a man in a black business suit and dark glasses. His frowned. "I'll lose millions if I miss my meeting."

A lady in a knee-length skirt held her daughter's hand. "We're attending a funeral."

Each passenger gave excuses to stay.

"What about you, sir?" The stewardess pointed at a man in the back.

His eyebrow twitched. "I need to go. Meeting someone."

"We'll throw in first-class treatment if you wait."

He jumped from his seat, whipping out a small pistol. "I'm not getting off." He pointed the gun at the lady and her daughter. "You two, bye bye."

They stared at him a moment before sliding into the walkway.

A shot rang through the cabin. The attacker collapsed to the floor.

The business-suited man, a gun in his hand, flipped out a badge. "Space Marshall. Sorry, but we had to flush him out. He's wanted for treason."

The stewardess sucked in a deep breath. "Against Earth?"

"No." He pulled a necklace off the corpse. The human image faded into a cross between an octopus and a hamster. "Mars." He replaced the necklace and pulled out a pen. "I need you to all look this way."

----------------------------


Spent about 10 minutes figuring out what to write. Another 50 minutes writing it. Ended up around 360 words. I then spent 25 minutes editing it until I got it down to 296 words, an 18% reduction. Not the greatest story in the world, but fun. Hope you enjoyed it as well as taking a peak into my process writing it.

Final score: 296 word micro-fiction written and edited in 1.5 hours.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The Balloon Ark

Here is October's free fiction. This month is an unusual story. I tried, for the first time, one of Dean Wesley Smith's tricks. He unusually, to figure out what short story to write, and sometimes novels, pulls together random half-titles to form a new title, and use that as his prompt. Since I don't have a list of half titles, I strolled over to Fox News website and looked at current headlines. From two different headlines, I pulled "balloon" and "evacuation." I threw them together to come up with the title "Balloon Evacuation." That created in my mind the following story. After finishing it, I changed the title to more closely match the story.

With that back story in place, sit back, relax, and enjoy this month's free fiction. A 4000 word near-future science fiction treat.

------------------


Joe fingered the fragment of paper he'd found months ago in his mother's belongings. He read it again for the umpteenth time.

And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth. Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch. And this is how thou shalt make it...

Why did it have to stop there? If this was a message from God, why leave it up to his imagination how to create this ark? Yet the inhabitants of Behyadel grew more violent, so surely this God would destroy them. Finding the fragment was certainly a warning from this God to save his family.

A tug on his pants pulled Joe from his thoughts. His son, Joshua, stared at him. He held up a short pole, pointed on one end, and dangling a flag. "I made it, Dad. For the ark. It goes on top." An emblem of a red balloon against a blue background hung limply from the pole.

Joe smiled, hoisted the six-year-old onto his lap, and received the flag. "Very nice and sturdy. I'll put it on tonight." Joe leaned the flag against the chair. "What did you learn in school today?"

A smile sprang to his face. "About wind before the covering. Dad, is it true such a thing existed? How can you feel it if you can't see it?"

It did sound like a myth. The history books recorded such a thing before radiation filled the land and the covering protected them. The hand of God, some called it. Perhaps this God would destroy Behyadel by removing his hand and allowing the radiation in.

"Dad, will we find wind with the ark?"

Joe shrugged. "According to your mom we will."

"I heard that," Mary said from the kitchen.

Joshua giggled.

Joe tousled his son's hair. "Maybe we'll find out tomorrow."

Joshua grinned. "Are we leaving tomorrow?"

"Just as soon as you eat your dinner and get a good night's sleep."

Joshua leaped from his dad's lap. "I'm eating now, then." He dashed into the kitchen to engage his mother.

Joe glanced out the window at the ark sitting in the lot next door. He'd made it of wood, though hard to find. Nothing called gopher wood, but he hoped what they had was sufficient. Sealed in pitch. Attached to the hull lay a deflated balloon. Joshua's idea.

"Make it fly like a balloon," he'd said.

Made sense. If God released radiation under the cover, they'd need a means to fly over it. Research provided concepts for a giant balloon filled with hydrogen that would raise it into the air. They could live in it until the radiation left. He hoped.

Tomorrow they'd lift off. Joe rose from his seat and grabbed Joshua's flag. "Mary, I'm going to start the balloon to filling. It'll take all night."

"Okay, honey. Don't stay gone too long or your supper will grow cold."

"Will do." He opened the door and left the house.

------------------


The rust-red balloon towered over the surrounding houses. Ropes held the balloon to a rectangular, windowless, wooden house. The ends of the balloon hovered over the houses on either end.

Joe scanned down to see neighbors already gathered around it. He'd told them he was building a house. The huge balloon gave away that this was perhaps more than a house.

Joshua yanked on his dad's pants. "I don't see the flag."

"You can't see the top from here. The balloon is too big, but it is up there. I assure you."

Joshua nodded. "I'm ready."

Joe glanced at Mary. "What about you?"

She swallowed. "You moved the last of the supplies in last night, right?"

Joe winked at her. "Including your makeup."

She smiled, but immediately grew serious. "Are you sure? About..." She nodded her head toward the balloon.

Joe rubbed his forehead. Of course he had his doubts. Could he had interpreted the fragment wrong? Maybe it was mere chance he'd come across it, and not a message from God. But he couldn't back down now.

"Mary, I feel strongly this is God's will. But if nothing happens to destroy the world while we're up there, it will simply be an unusual vacation and we'll be back home in a few days."

She bowed her head and nodded.

Joe rubbed her back. "It'll be fun."

She straightened up and let out a deep breath. "I'm sure it will be. Let's go." She headed across the street to the towering balloon.

Joshua skipped behind her and bounced ahead.

Joe smiled while lifting the two suitcases of clothing they'd packed and followed behind them.

Henry, a balding man with a gut to match saw Joe coming. "Neighbor! Seems you added a new set of floors to your house last night."

Joe smiled weakly. "I suppose you could say that."

Henry pointed at one end of it. "That part is sort of hanging over my house. We're you planning on spying on me or can you cut that part off?"

"Well, Henry, I'll do you one better than that. I'll remove it within the hour."

Henry suppressed a laugh. "Whata you going to do? Fly the whole thing out of here?

Joe moved past him and headed toward their new home. "Something like that." Joe glanced back. Henry stared at him as if saying, "What did you say?" No doubt they would create quite the news in the community.

"Joe Lumbar?"

Joe turned. A police officer approached him. "Yes, I'm Joe."

He pointed at the balloon. "You know this violates at least six city ordinances. We're going to have to ask you to tear it down."

Joe sucked in a breathe. "Yes, officer. I'll get right on it."

"Why are you taking personal items into it?"

"I've got to get my wife and kid out first."

The officer glanced at the creation. "Okay, but I'd better not return and find you living here."

Joe smiled. "You won't even know we've been here."

The officer signed a paper, ripped it off and handed it to Joe. "Just in case, here's your warning. Next one will be a citation if I don't see progress." He stuffed it in Joe's hand. "Good day, sir." Then he spun on his heel and headed down the street.

Joe laughed and stuffed it in his pocket. He gazed into the sky. The same waves of light rolled over the sky as it always had. Occasionally a small dark spot sliced through them. Then Joe saw a rather large dark spot, bigger than any he'd seen before. It worked its way across the sky.

Joe breathed deep. That was surely a sign if anything was. Time to launch. The cover might fail at any time and flood them with radiation. He stepped inside the door, placed the suitcases on the floor, and turned to close the door.

The neighbors continued to gawk at his house. He resisted an urge to give a speech. Instead, he waved goodbye and shut the door. He hoped for their sake that he was wrong about the coming destruction.

He carted the suitcases into their bedroom. Then he waved Joshua over. "Come with me to the control room." Joe headed up a spiral staircase. Joshua followed close behind.

Mary scurried behind them. "I'm not staying down here alone when you launch this thing."

Joe entered the upper loft he'd labeled the control room. The upper third story of the house, being half the floor space of the other two stories, it rested on top like small box stacked on a larger one. This room contained the only room in the house with windows, to minimize any radiation exposure—he hoped.

The front window displayed the nose of the balloon stretching out over his neighbor's house. In front of the window rested a wheel-less bicycle bolted to the floor. Two levers, one on each side of the bike, awaited his commands. They adjusted the rotation of the two propellers to forward or reverse, to turn or move one direction. To the right of the bike, against the wall, rested two more levers. One to release the tie-downs to take off. The other to expel hydrogen from the balloon for landing.

Mary sat in a chair against the back wall. Joe climbed on the bike and placed his feet on the pedals. "Joshua, would you like to launch us?"

A smile beamed over his face. "Really? I can do that?"

Joe pointed. "Just pull down on the far, right lever."

Joshua dashed to the lever, placed his hands firmly around it, then paused. He looked back, a grin indicating his excitement. "Ready?"

Joe gave him a thumbs up. Mary said, "Let's get this over with."

Joshua returned his attention to the lever. "Here we go!" He yanked on the lever. It barely grunted an inch. Joshua pulled harder. The lever resisted, but slowly gave way and landed with a loud thud against the stop.

The floor under them lurched upwards. Boards creaked in protest. Joshua fell against the wood floor with a grunt. Screams echoed from outside. The horizon bobbed up and down. Joe feared the house might fall apart. But it didn't. The bobbing slowed to a shallow wobble. The horizon sank beneath the edge of the house.

Joshua lifted himself up and then stared out the window. "We did it, Dad! We're flying."

Mary wobbled from her chair to stand by Joshua. "You have a design flaw. You can't see the ground. How are you going to land?"

Joe pointed at a door. "That leads onto the roof. There is a line one can hook to so you can lean over the side and direct the driver."

"Me!" She swung to face Joe. "You expect me to lead over the edge?"

"It's perfectly safe."

She stared at the ceiling and huffed. "Ever hear of mirrors?"

Joe smiled sheepishly. "Ah. Good idea wife."

She headed for the stairs. "Guess I'd better see what's left of the house, straighten up, and fix lunch. Then I'll do some exercise to be ready to repel down the side of our flying home." She stomped down the steps, mumbling.

Joe hopped off the bike and pulled out from the left, front wall a crank handle. He turned it clockwise. Mirrors rose from the front and both sides. The front mirror displayed a wider view. Already the houses below had shrunk to postage-stamp size.

Joshua stared at the front mirror. "When you telling Mom about this."

Joe grinned. "After I see if she will really lean over the side."

Joshua shook his head. "You're going to get it something awful."

------------------


The three sat around the dinning room table, holding hands. Joe had moved the table over after dinner the night before. He had wanted something familiar to ground themselves in.

Joe bowed his head. "Lord, we than you for your gifts of food and protection. May your love accompany us on our journey and your mercy be with them below. Amen."

Joshua grabbed a sandwich. "How high up are we, Dad?"

"Can't say for sure. Last I looked, I couldn't make out specific houses anymore."

Mary smirked. "Leaned over the edge yourself, did you?"

Joe smiled. "Yeah. At least we should be safe from the radiation up here." He hoped.

"And from all our neighbors as well."

Joe grinned. "I would have liked to have seen the looks on their faces when our house took off."

"It's probably all over town by now. Maybe on Behyadel news."

Joshua swallowed his bite. "Dad, will we feel the wind now?"

Joe held out his hand. "Listen."

All three remained motionless. An occasional creak of the house broke the silence."

"I don't hear anything." Joshua stared at his father.

"Exactly. I'm told you can hear the wind if it is going fast enough."

A loud crash echoed through the house. All the furniture leaped upward and bounced back down, throwing sandwiches into the air and all three onto the floor. A loud screeching sound flooded the room.

Joe crawled to the stairs as the floor rocked violently, and worked his way up them, holding onto the railing. By the time he entered the control room, the rocking had died off some. He wobbled to the crank and lowered the mirrors for a better view in front of them.

Mary and Joshua bounced into the room. They stared out the window. Past the nose of the balloon, a glass-like surface disappeared into the distance.

"What happened?" Mary asked.

Joe shook his head. "Not sure, but we've hit something."

"The cover." Joshua pointed at the surface above the balloon. "We've hit the top of the sky."

Joe waved his hand. "Listen."

Over the creaking of the house, the sound of cracking met their ears.

"Honey, what's that noise?"

Joe headed for the door. "I'll go find out."

"Be careful."

"I will."

Joshua ran to his father. "Can I come?"

"No!" they both said at the same time.

Joshua hung his head.

Joe knelt on one knee. "Look, son. It may be dangerous out there. Promise me if I don't come back, you'll look after your mother."

"Dad—"

"Joseph Naza!" Mary put her hands on her hips. "How dare you lay that on him. He's just a boy. You come back or I swear I'll kill you."

Joe nodded with a half-smile. "You're right. I will be back, but for now, we'll only risk one of us going." He hugged Joshua and Mary before heading to the door.

Being on the other side of the wall knowing many feet lay between him and the ground, did give him a sense of unease. He grabbed the rope and tied it around his waist. He tugged on the end of the rope around a post to ensure it was secure and checked the safety latch.

Joe scanned the sky. The shadows appeared much bigger now. Light waves rolled across the surface, but more cracking sounds shattered the quiet. He'd have to climb to the top of the balloon to see what they'd hit.

Joe grabbed the first rung of the rope ladder that led to the top of the balloon. He'd gone several rungs when he stopped. He rubbed his fingers together. Wetness? Why would the rope be wet? He examined the rope closely. A trickle of water ran down the rope. Drops cascaded off the ladder higher up at the curve of the balloon.

A surge of water swished over his hands. The water came from above and was growing by the second. More loud cracking sounds echoed across his ears. He turned to see cracks extending past the balloon. Whatever the covering was, it was breaking apart. Joshua's flag pole on top of the balloon must have punctured the cover. And water was on the other side. Not radiation.

Joe headed back down as fast as he dared. Sheets of water began to pour over his head. The flow increased quickly. A loud popping sound shattered the air. A large piece of thick glass bobbed over the balloon and fell toward the ground. Behind it a surge of water raced to catch it.

Water swept over Joe. He gasped for air as it pushed him onto the roof of the house. He struggled to get to his feet but the flow of water shoved him back down and scooted him closer to the edge of the house.

Mary and Joshua stared at him from the window.

Joe yelled, "Reel in the rope!"

Mary and Joshua glanced at each other. She shrugged her shoulders.

Two more loud pops. More water careened over the balloon. The wave of water shoved Joe toward the edge. Joe pointed at the rope reel and demonstrated the motions of cranking. Mary and Joshua stared back in horror.

The water flooded over him anew, and he slid along the roof. He could find nothing to grab as the edge grew closer. He couldn't stop it. He slipped over the edge as water shot over the roof and away from the wall.

His heart raced as he fell. Patches of land and cities dotted the land below. A stream of water fell toward his old home. His neighbors. The citizens of Behyadel. They would all drown because of his ark. As might himself. He'd doomed them all. Not the radiation.

He grimaced as the rope around his waist tightened and broke his fall. He swung under the house, then back toward the sheets of water flowing off the roof. Thankfully he'd not gone too far up the balloon, and the safety had engaged. Otherwise, he could be many feet below the house. As he gained his air back, he pulled himself up now that the water didn't hit him directly.

As he approached the bottom of the house, he spied the front door. He could swing to it. He positioned himself alongside the house and then began swinging on the rope. Each pass he drew closer until he grabbed the door knob. He pulled himself over and held onto the doorpost. He turned the knob. The door flung open.

Joe grabbed the inside door knob with his other hand. The door pushed him into the edge of the water streaming from the roof. Joe shoved his body weight toward the house. The door shifted toward the house. He let go of the outside door knob and snagged the inside of the doorpost. With a grunt, he shoved himself into the house.

Joe lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Several pops rang from above, and the whole house jumped upward and shook. No time to catch a breath. Their house was about to break through the covering. He pushed himself up, closed the front door, then trudged up the stairs as fast as his body allowed him.

The sight of Mary hugging Joshua, both crying, greeted him.

"Anyone call for a plumber?"

Mary and Joshua spun around.

"Dad!" He ran and hugged his father's legs.

Mary embraced him. "I thought you were gone."

"Hey, I promised I'd be back."

The house jerked upward again, sending them collapsing to the floor. Joe scanned the covering. Between the streams of water, the cracking cover was visible.

Joe pulled himself onto the bike. "You two had better sit in the chairs. They're bolted to the floor, so should keep you from rolling around on the floor."

Joshua landed in a seat. "What's happening?"

"If I'm not mistaken, we're about to break through the covering. Apparently there is water on the other side."

Shards of glass followed by heavier streams of water fell below them. The cracks in the distance let more liquid through, and chunks of covering fell, leaving holes for the invader to enter.

The house fell, then bobbed back up. Then fell again. The flow of water had grown strong enough to push the balloon down, but it kept pushing back up. Then, within thirty minutes, the house started to sink and not go back up. The balloon was deflating. No doubt shards of the covering had punctured it.

The speed of descent increased. They'd likely smash into the ground. He hadn't saved his family by building an ark. He'd condemned them and all of Behyadel with them. He must have misunderstood God big time.

The house slammed into something. Mary and Joshua screamed. Water flew away from the house, which bobbed back and forth. Endless horizon of water met Joe's eyes. The pitch. He'd followed what little instructions he'd had. The pitch was to keep the water out. The ark wasn't a balloon, it was a water vessel. Something the Behyadelsians had no need of.

The balloon listed to the right side of the ark, leaving a clear view of the sky. Giant sprouts of water poured into Behyadel. The water carried their house back toward the covering. Water flowing from the biggest hole, where the balloon had pierced it, pushed them away. The house floated around, pulled by eddies and pushed by streams of water.

The house bumped the covering, and scraped against it as the rising water forced them up to the top of the dome. As the house moved closer to the broken area of the covering, the water rose over the house. They would soon be submerged. Could the sealed house withstand it? And for how long? One way or another, they'd soon find out.

Joe's ears popped. A small stream of water entered around the door. "Joshua, in the closet is some pitch. Go get it, spread it around the door downstairs and this one up here.

"Yes, sir." He bolted down the stairs.

"That won't do much, will it? I mean, doesn't it have to set?" Mary asked.

"Yes, but it will give him something to do, and it might help."

Joshua soon appeared with a bucket in hand and a spatula. "It doesn't seem to be doing much."

Joe nodded. "Give it a try anyway."

Joshua knelt and started trying to spread the pitch between the door jam and the door. It did seem to slow the water flow some.

Joe pointed out the window. "We're clearing the covering." A hole approached among the fractured glass. "Joshua, get in your seat and hold on."

Joshua slammed the lid on the bucket down and returned to his seat. "Here we go!"

The front of the house pulled upwards over the edge of the glass. Joe held fast to the bike as the bucket of pitch slid to the back wall with a thud. The house jerked, then raced upwards. Five minutes passed, and his ears popped again. Water sloshed against the back wall, soaking Mary and Joshua's feet.

Light grew brighter. Joe's eyes began to hurt. Another surface raced toward them. Joe gripped the bike hard. "Hold on. Looks like we're about to hit another glass wall."

The light continued to increase in intensity. Joe squinted, not wanting to miss the final moments of his life. The new surface approached fast. Joe braced.

The new surface gave way without a fight. The front of the ark broke into fresh air, paused above the water as if standing on its rear, then splashed back down to float on a new surface.

All three sat in stunned silence. Both recovering from the shock of not dying and the shock of this new world. A solid blue sky held puffs of white floating lazily along. Why they didn't fall, Joe had no idea.

"Listen," Joshua said.

Joe listened. An irregular howling sound rang in his ears.

Joshua raced from his chair to the door. "Wind!"

"Wait!" both of them yelled.

Joshua flung the door open. An invisible force pushed his hair back and vibrated his collar.

When Joe reached the door, the wind caressed his wet face. All three stood in the open door. An endless sky. An endless body of water. An invisible force. What more could this new world surprise them with?

Mary held up a scrap of paper. "This makes more sense now."

Joe took it. Another fragment of his mother's. He read it.

The wind bloweth where it will, and thou hearest the voice thereof, but knowest not whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.

------------------


Recorded in old history books—which most Behyadelians of Joshua's time considered myths—is a story of possible nuclear war. A prototype dome, designed to filter radiation out but allow the transference of air and carbon dioxide, was constructed in Utah, USA in hopes of sheltering large numbers of people. Before testing could be completed, the feared war started. While the dome performed as expected, the tectonic plates shifted from the explosions, resulting in Utah once again being covered in water.

Though not designed to work under water, due to the shallow distance to the surface, the dome held, keeping the water out while filtering in breathable air. However, the unplanned pressure on the dome weakened it after several generations. Eventually it would have collapsed on its own, but Joseph's balloon ark, puncturing it with Joshua's flag pole, hastened its demise.

The future of humanity now rests in the small family of three, Joseph, Mary, and Joshua, surviving and prospering in this new world, and writing a new history of mankind.

Written from then on in the sacred text, God is recorded as saying, "I only promised not to cover the whole world in water again. I didn't say anything about radiation."

The Balloon Ark



Joe fingered the fragment of paper he'd found months ago in his mother's belongings. He read it again for the umpteenth time.


And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth. Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch. And this is how thou shalt make it...


Why did it have to stop there? If this was a message from God, why leave it up to his imagination how to create this ark? Yet the inhabitants of Behyadel grew more violent, so surely this God would destroy them. Finding the fragment was certainly a warning from this God to save his family.


A tug on his pants pulled Joe from his thoughts. His son, Joshua, stared at him. He held up a short pole, pointed on one end, and dangling a flag. "I made it, Dad. For the ark. It goes on top." An emblem of a red balloon against a blue background hung limply from the pole.


Joe smiled, hoisted the six-year-old onto his lap, and received the flag. "Very nice and sturdy. I'll put it on tonight." Joe leaned the flag against the chair. "What did you learn in school today?"


A smile sprang to his face. "About wind before the covering. Daddy, is it true such a thing existed? How can you feel it if you can't see it?"


It did sound like a myth. The history books recorded such a thing before radiation filled the land and the covering protected them. The hand of God, some called it. Perhaps this God would destroy Behyadel by removing his hand and allowing the radiation in.


"Daddy, will we find wind with the ark?"


Joe shrugged. "According to your mom we will."


"I heard that," Mary said from the kitchen.


Joshua giggled.


Joe tousled his son's hair. "Maybe we'll find out tomorrow."


Joshua grinned. "Are we leaving tomorrow?"


"Just as soon as you eat your dinner and get a good night's sleep."


Joshua leaped from his dad's lap. "I'm eating now, then." He dashed into the kitchen to engage his mother.


Joe glanced out the window at the ark sitting in the lot next door. He'd made it of wood, though hard to find. Nothing called gopher wood, but he hoped what they had was sufficient. Sealed in pitch. Attached to the hull lay a deflated balloon. Joshua's idea.


"Make it fly like a balloon," he'd said.


Made sense. If God released radiation under the cover, they'd need a means to fly over it. Research provided concepts for a giant balloon filled with hydrogen that would raise it into the air. They could live in it until the radiation left. He hoped.


Tomorrow they'd lift off. Joe rose from his seat and grabbed Joshua's flag. "Mary, I'm going to start the balloon to filling. It'll take all night."


"Okay, honey. Don't stay gone too long or your supper will grow cold."


"Will do." He opened the door and left the house.



------------------



The rust-red balloon towered over the surrounding houses. Ropes held the balloon to a rectangular, windowless, wooden house. The ends of the balloon hovered over the houses on either end.


Joe scanned down to see neighbors already gathered around it. He'd told them he was building a house. The huge balloon gave away that this was perhaps more than a house.


Joshua yanked on his dad's pants. "I don't see the flag."


"You can't see the top from here. The balloon is too big, but it is up there. I assure you."


Joshua nodded. "I'm ready."


Joe glanced at Mary. "What about you?"


She swallowed. "You moved the last of the supplies in last night, right?"


Joe winked at her. "Including your makeup."


She smiled, but immediately grew serious. "Are you sure? About..." She nodded her head toward the balloon.


Joe rubbed his forehead. Of course he had his doubts. Could he had interpreted the fragment wrong? Maybe it was mere chance he'd come across it, and not a message from God. But he couldn't back down now.


"Mary, I feel strongly this is God's will. But if nothing happens to destroy the world while we're up there, it will simply be an unusual vacation and we'll be back home in a few days."


She bowed her head and nodded.


Joe rubbed her back. "It'll be fun."


She straightened up and let out a deep breath. "I'm sure it will be. Let's go." She headed across the street to the towering balloon.


Joshua skipped behind her and bounced ahead.


Joe smiled while lifting the two suitcases of clothing they'd packed and followed behind them.


Henry, a balding man with a gut to match saw Joe coming. "Neighbor! Seems you added a new set of floors to your house last night."


Joe smiled weakly. "I suppose you could say that."


Henry pointed at one end of it. "That part is sort of hanging over my house. We're you planning on spying on me or can you cut that part off?"


"Well, Henry, I'll do you one better than that. I'll remove it within the hour."


Henry suppressed a laugh. "Whata you going to do? Fly the whole thing out of here?


Joe moved past him and headed toward their new home. "Something like that." Joe glanced back. Henry stared at him as if saying, "What did you say?" No doubt they would create quite the news in the community.


"Joe Lumbar?"


Joe turned. A police officer approached him. "Yes, I'm Joe."


He pointed at the balloon. "You know this violates at least six city ordinances. We're going to have to ask you to tear it down."


Joe sucked in a breathe. "Yes, officer. I'll get right on it."


"Why are you taking personal items into it?"


"I've got to get my wife and kid out first."


The officer glanced at the creation. "Okay, but I'd better not return and find you living here."


Joe smiled. "You won't even know we've been here."


The officer signed a paper, ripped it off and handed it to Joe. "Just in case, here's your warning. Next one will be a citation if I don't see progress." He stuffed it in Joe's hand. "Good day, sir." Then he spun on his heel and headed down the street.


Joe laughed and stuffed it in his pocket. He gazed into the sky. The same waves of light rolled over the sky as it always had. Occasionally a small dark spot sliced through them. Then Joe saw a rather large dark spot, bigger than any he'd seen before. It worked its way across the sky.


Joe breathed deep. That was surely a sign if anything was. Time to launch. The cover might fail at any time and flood them with radiation. He stepped inside the door, placed the suitcases on the floor, and turned to close the door.


The neighbors continued to gawk at his house. He resisted an urge to give a speech. Instead, he waved goodbye and shut the door. He hoped for their sake that he was wrong about the coming destruction.


He carted the suitcases into their bedroom. Then he waved Joshua over. "Come with me to the control room." Joe headed up a spiral staircase. Joshua followed close behind.


Mary scurried behind them. "I'm not staying down here alone when you launch this thing."


Joe entered the upper loft he'd labeled the control room. The upper third story of the house, being half the floor space of the other two stories, it rested on top like small box stacked on a larger one. This room contained the only room in the house with windows, to minimize any radiation exposure—he hoped.


The front window displayed the nose of the balloon stretching out over his neighbor's house. In front of the window rested a wheel-less bicycle bolted to the floor. Two levers, one on each side of the bike, awaited his commands. They adjusted the rotation of the two propellers to forward or reverse, to turn or move one direction. To the right of the bike, against the wall, rested two more levers. One to release the tie-downs to take off. The other to expel hydrogen from the balloon for landing.


Mary sat in a chair against the back wall. Joe climbed on the bike and placed his feet on the pedals. "Joshua, would you like to launch us?"


A smile beamed over his face. "Really? I can do that?"


Joe pointed. "Just pull down on the far, right lever."


Joshua dashed to the lever, placed his hands firmly around it, then paused. He looked back, a grin indicating his excitement. "Ready?"


Joe gave him a thumbs up. Mary said, "Let's get this over with."


Joshua returned his attention to the lever. "Here we go!" He yanked on the lever. It barely grunted an inch. Joshua pulled harder. The lever resisted, but slowly gave way and landed with a loud thud against the stop.


The floor under them lurched upwards. Boards creaked in protest. Joshua fell against the wood floor with a grunt. Screams echoed from outside. The horizon bobbed up and down. Joe feared the house might fall apart. But it didn't. The bobbing slowed to a shallow wobble. The horizon sank beneath the edge of the house.


Joshua lifted himself up and then stared out the window. "We did it, Dad! We're flying."


Mary wobbled from her chair to stand by Joshua. "You have a design flaw. You can't see the ground. How are you going to land?"


Joe pointed at a door. "That leads onto the roof. There is a line one can hook to so you can lean over the side and direct the driver."


"Me!" She swung to face Joe. "You expect me to lead over the edge?"


"It's perfectly safe."


She stared at the ceiling and huffed. "Ever hear of mirrors?"


Joe smiled sheepishly. "Ah. Good idea wife."


She headed for the stairs. "Guess I'd better see what's left of the house, straighten up, and fix lunch. Then I'll do some exercise to be ready to repel down the side of our flying home." She stomped down the steps, mumbling.


Joe hopped off the bike and pulled out from the left, front wall a crank handle. He turned it clockwise. Mirrors rose from the front and both sides. The front mirror displayed a wider view. Already the houses below had shrunk to postage-stamp size.


Joshua stared at the front mirror. "When you telling Mom about this."


Joe grinned. "After I see if she will really lean over the side."


Joshua shook his head. "You're going to get it something awful."



------------------



The three sat around the dinning room table, holding hands. Joe had moved the table over after dinner the night before. He wanted something familiar to ground themselves in.


Joe bowed his head. "Lord, we than you for your gifts of food and protection. May your love accompany us on our journey and your mercy be with them below. Amen."


Joshua grabbed a sandwich. "How high up are we, Dad?"


"Can't say for sure. Last I looked, I couldn't make out specific houses anymore."


Mary smirked. "Leaned over the edge yourself, did you?"


Joe smiled. "Yeah. At least we should be safe from the radiation up here." He hoped.


"And from all our neighbors as well."


Joe grinned. "I would have liked to have seen the looks on their faces when our house took off."


"It's probably all over town by now. Maybe on Behyadel news."


Joshua swallowed his bite. "Dad, will we feel the wind now?"


Joe held out his hand. "Listen."


All three remained motionless. An occasional creak of the house broke the silence."


"I don't hear anything." Joshua stared at his father.


"Exactly. I'm told you can hear the wind if it is going fast enough."


A loud crash echoed through the house. All the furniture leaped upward and bounced back down, throwing sandwiches into the air and all three onto the floor. A loud screeching sound flooded the room.


Joe crawled to the stairs as the floor rocked violently, and worked his way up them, holding onto the railing. By the time he entered the control room, the rocking had died off some. He wobbled to the crank and lowered the mirrors for a better view in front of them.


Mary and Joshua bounced into the room. They stared out the window. Past the nose of the balloon, a glass-like surface disappeared into the distance.


"What happened?" Mary asked.


Joe shook his head. "Not sure, but we've hit something."


"The cover." Joshua pointed at the surface above the balloon. "We've hit the top of the sky."


Joe waved his hand. "Listen."


Over the creaking of the house, the sound of cracking met their ears.


"Honey, what's that noise?"


Joe headed for the door. "I'll go find out."


"Be careful."


"I will."


Joshua ran to his father. "Can I come?"


"No!" they both said at the same time.


Joshua hung his head.


Joe knelt on one knee. "Look, son. It may be dangerous out there. Promise me if I don't come back, you'll look after your mother."


"Dad—"


"Joseph Naza!" Mary put her hands on her hips. "How dare you lay that on him. He's just a boy. You come back or I swear I'll kill you."


Joe nodded with a half-smile. "You're right. I will be back, but for now, we'll only risk one of us going." He hugged Joshua and Mary before heading to the door.


Being on the other side of the wall knowing many feet lay between him and the ground, did give him a sense of unease. He grabbed the rope and tied it around his waist. He tugged on the end of the rope around a post to ensure it was secure and checked the safety latch.


Joe scanned the sky. The shadows appeared much bigger now. Light waves rolled across the surface, but more cracking sounds shattered the quiet. He'd have to climb to the top of the balloon to see what they'd hit.


Joe grabbed the first rung of the rope ladder that led to the top of the balloon. He'd gone several rungs when he stopped. He rubbed his fingers together. Wetness? Why would the rope be wet? He examined the rope closely. A trickle of water ran down the rope. Drops cascaded off the ladder higher up at the curve of the balloon.


A surge of water swished over his hands. The water came from above and was growing by the second. More loud cracking sounds echoed across his ears. He turned to see cracks extending past the balloon. Whatever the covering was, it was breaking apart. Joshua's flag pole on top of the balloon must have punctured the cover. And water was on the other side. Not radiation.


Joe headed back down as fast as he dared. Sheets of water began to pour over his head. The flow increased quickly. A loud popping sound shattered the air. A large piece of thick glass bobbed over the balloon and fell toward the ground. Behind it a surge of water raced to catch it.


Water swept over Joe. He gasped for air as it pushed him onto the roof of the house. He struggled to get to his feet but the flow of water shoved him back down and scooted him closer to the edge of the house.


Mary and Joshua stared at him from the window.


Joe yelled, "Reel in the rope!"


Mary and Joshua glanced at each other. She shrugged her shoulders.


Two more loud pops. More water careened over the balloon. The wave of water shoved Joe toward the edge. Joe pointed at the rope reel and demonstrated the motions of cranking. Mary and Joshua stared back in horror.


The water flooded over him anew, and he slid along the roof. He could find nothing to grab as the edge grew closer. He couldn't stop it. He slipped over the edge as water shot over the roof and away from the wall.


His heart raced as he fell. Patches of land and cities dotted the land below. A stream of water fell toward his old home. His neighbors. The citizens of Behyadel. They would all drown because of his ark. As might himself. He'd doomed them all. Not the radiation.


He grimaced as the rope around his waist tightened and broke his fall. He swung under the house, then back toward the sheets of water flowing off the roof. Thankfully he'd not gone too far up the balloon, and the safety had engaged. Otherwise, he could be many feet below the house. As he gained his air back, he pulled himself up now that the water didn't hit him directly.


As he approached the bottom of the house, he spied the front door. He could swing to it. He positioned himself alongside the house and then began swinging on the rope. Each pass he drew closer until he grabbed the door knob. He pulled himself over and held onto the doorpost. He turned the knob. The door flung open.


Joe grabbed the inside door knob with his other hand. The door pushed him into the edge of the water streaming from the roof. Joe shoved his body weight toward the house. The door shifted toward the house. He let go of the outside door knob and snagged the inside of the doorpost. With a grunt, he shoved himself into the house.


Joe lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Several pops rang from above, and the whole house jumped upward and shook. No time to catch a breath. Their house was about to break through the covering. He pushed himself up, closed the front door, then trudged up the stairs as fast as his body allowed him.


The sight of Mary hugging Joshua, both crying, greeted him.


"Anyone call for a plumber?"


Mary and Joshua spun around.


"Dad!" He ran and hugged his father's legs.


Mary embraced him. "I thought you were gone."


"Hey, I promised I'd be back."


The house jerked upward again, sending them collapsing to the floor. Joe scanned the covering. Between the streams of water, the cracking cover was visible.


Joe pulled himself onto the bike. "You two had better sit in the chairs. They're bolted to the floor, so should keep you from rolling around on the floor."


Joshua landed in a seat. "What's happening?"


"If I'm not mistaken, we're about to break through the covering. Apparently there is water on the other side."


Shards of glass followed by heavier streams of water fell below them. The cracks in the distance let more liquid through, and chunks of covering fell, leaving holes for the invader to enter.


The house fell, then bobbed back up. Then fell again. The flow of water had grown strong enough to push the balloon down, but it kept pushing back up. Then, within thirty minutes, the house started to sink and not go back up. The balloon was deflating. No doubt shards of the covering had punctured it.


The speed of descent increased. They'd likely smash into the ground. He hadn't saved his family by building an ark. He'd condemned them and all of Behyadel with them. He must have misunderstood God big time.


The house slammed into something. Mary and Joshua screamed. Water flew away from the house, which bobbed back and forth. Endless horizon of water met Joe's eyes. The pitch. He'd followed what little instructions he'd had. The pitch was to keep the water out. The ark wasn't a balloon, it was a water vessel. Something the Behyadelsians had no need of.


The balloon listed to the right side of the ark, leaving a clear view of the sky. Giant sprouts of water poured into Behyadel. The water carried their house back toward the covering. Water flowing from the biggest hole, where the balloon had pierced it, pushed them away. The house floated around, pulled by eddies and pushed by streams of water.


The house bumped the covering, and scraped against it as the rising water forced them up to the top of the dome. As the house moved closer to the broken area of the covering, the water rose over the house. They would soon be submerged. Could the sealed house withstand it? And for how long? One way or another, they'd soon find out.


Joe's ears popped. A small stream of water entered around the door. "Joshua, in the closet is some pitch. Go get it, spread it around the door downstairs and this one up here.


"Yes, sir." He bolted down the stairs.


"That won't do much, will it? I mean, doesn't it have to set?" Mary asked.


"Yes, but it will give him something to do, and it might help."


Joshua soon appeared with a bucket in hand and a spatula. "It doesn't seem to be doing much."


Joe nodded. "Give it a try anyway."


Joshua knelt and started trying to spread the pitch between the door jam and the door. It did seem to slow the water flow some.


Joe pointed out the window. "We're clearing the covering." A hole approached among the fractured glass. "Joshua, get in your seat and hold on."


Joshua slammed the lid on the bucket down and returned to his seat. "Here we go!"


The front of the house pulled upwards over the edge of the glass. Joe held fast to the bike as the bucket of pitch slid to the back wall with a thud. The house jerked, then raced upwards. Five minutes passed, and his ears popped again. Water sloshed against the back wall, soaking Mary and Joshua's feet.


Light grew brighter. Joe's eyes began to hurt. Another surface raced toward them. Joe gripped the bike hard. "Hold on. Looks like we're about to hit another glass wall."


The light continued to increase in intensity. Joe squinted, not wanting to miss the final moments of his life. The new surface approached fast. Joe braced.


The new surface gave way without a fight. The front of the ark broke into fresh air, paused above the water as if standing on its rear, then splashed back down to float on a new surface.


All three sat in stunned silence. Both recovering from the shock of not dying and the shock of this new world. A solid blue sky held puffs of white floating lazily along. Why they didn't fall, Joe had no idea.


"Listen," Joshua said.


Joe listened. An irregular howling sound rang in his ears.


Joshua raced from his chair to the door. "Wind!"


"Wait!" both of them yelled.


Joshua flung the door open. An invisible force pushed his hair back and vibrated his collar.


When Joe reached the door, the wind caressed his wet face. All three stood in the open door. An endless sky. An endless body of water. An invisible force. What more could this new world surprise them with?


Mary held up a scrap of paper. "This makes more sense now."


Joe took it. Another fragment of his mother's. He read it.


The wind bloweth where it will, and thou hearest the voice thereof, but knowest not whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.



------------------



Recorded in old history books—which most Behyadelians of Joshua's time considered myths—is a story of possible nuclear war. A prototype dome, designed to filter radiation out but allow the transference of air and carbon dioxide, was constructed in Utah, USA in hopes of sheltering large numbers of people. Before testing could be completed, the feared war started. While the dome performed as expected, the tectonic plates shifted from the explosions, resulting in Utah once again being covered in water.


Though not designed to work under water, due to the shallow distance to the surface, the dome held, keeping the water out while filtering in breathable air. However, the unplanned pressure on the dome weakened it after several generations. Eventually it would have collapsed on its own, but Joseph's balloon ark, puncturing it with Joshua's flag pole, hastened its demise.


The future of humanity now rests in the small family of three, Joseph, Mary, and Joshua, surviving and prospering in this new world, and writing a new history of mankind.


Written from then on in the sacred text, God is recorded as saying, "I only promised not to cover the whole world in water again. I didn't say anything about radiation."