I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Afraid my creative juices just aren't flowing today. Seems I've caught that virus that's been going 'round the office, in the last week or so. Not deathly ill, thankfully, just pretty much, "bleh," that's all.

In light of that, I'm posting "filler" in my blog today: chapter one of another fan fiction short story I wrote, last summer. It's not my best, and even the title is lame. It's, I think, just about the last completed short story I've written--think it was done late August or very early September. And it's rubbish. Sorry.

DOCTOR WHO: The Body Snatchers

CHAPTER ONE: Picnic

The woman in black was seated in the pew of a small stone chapel, weeping like her heart was breaking--and it was. The Vicar was beside her, doing his best to console her. “Oh vicar,” she wept, “’e were so young, my Tom. And now my Ned as well…both in a fortnight. What am I to do, how shall I go on without my ‘usband and son? It ain’t fair! To have ‘em both die that way, bodies torn asunder…” As the gruesome memory took hold of her, she began wailing anew.

Standing under the pine tree holding a green and navy tartan umbrella, the Doctor looked up at the lowering grey sky. “It’s Cathays Cemetery, near Cardiff.” Martha said nothing, but the look on her face spoke volumes. Just then, she spied a tall cadaverous figure in a long-tailed black frock coat standing by a headstone, staring at her. “Who’s that?” She looked at the Doctor. “Who’s what?” He asked absently. She looked towards the field where she’d seen the man. He was gone. Vanished into thin air. The hairs on the back of her neck started crawling.

Ah well...had a mess of chores to do, today, even woke early to get an early start...yeah. Seems my body had other plans. Around 10, started to get massive stomach cramps, then, the race to the ol' loo began. (Huge sigh.) Still have to do the post office thing, today, before work, to get the rent cheque sent off. Thankfully, the other day, I washed out some extra work duds in the kitchen sink...bit wrinkled, so I'll still have some ironing to do, today.

I've not done laundry for nearly 3 weeks, since my accident. My laundry pile has got to be 4 feet high, at least--and to make matters worse, while I had my head in the closet sorting, little Flame got in there, and tipped stuff over, and she promptly got buried--I had to scramble to pull everything--dirtys, empty boxes, extra linens and quilt--everything, out of the closet onto my bedroom floor, to rescue her--and then, she has the gall to be all miffed at ME! She stalked off under the dresser and wouldn't come near me for half an hour! Cats! Ha!

Boots is all agitated today...he's so frustrated, poor baby. So many birds out there, and he can't get at 'em! He keeps coming up to me and complaining about it. One sits right on the bare vine attached to the front window--like 2 inches from the glass, and the cats are like--"damn! So close yet so far!"

Sadly, I seem to have lost my long-time nature "bible" (Handbook to North American Wildlife), that I've owned since I was about 13 or 14 years old. I'm so sad about that...it must have gotten lost in the last move. I'm honestly devastated! I could look up what birds these are--think they're finches--but with my failing eyesight, they could be female cardinals, for all I can tell. I used to birdwatch a lot, as a teen--in my old hometown we had dozens and dozens of birds and some raptors, as well--everything Chickadees to Great Blue Herons. We used to have an enormous Pileated Woodpecker out back, used to hang out in a long-dead elm tree. Man, those things sure make a racket when they start hammering a dead tree trunk with their bills. Like a bloomin' machine gun!

Awww--two birds are setting' there on a branch, grooming each other, how sweet is that? He-he, looks almost like they're making out--get a room, kids!

I heard my first Whipoorwill, in the summer of 2005, but strangely enough, I've never seen or heard the state bird, the Bluebird. Odd, that.

I've been having some massively odd dreams of late. Last night, I also had a terrible nightmare, in the middle of an otherwise benevolent dream.

In one dream, earlier this week, I was with my archeology professor, and we were on the dock of some port somewhere, checking out this Egyptian mummy's sarcophogus (or however one spells that).

I dreamed I was in the woods, digging up treasure.

Recently, I dreamed that I had taken over a small old-fashioned diner--tho' I was in my dream completely broke--and the lady in charge was making all kinds of pastries, and all they wanted to serve was pastries and sandwiches, to a bunch of elderly people. That was really an odd dream--I seldom eat pastries. I prefer Starbucks ice cream, myself.

I had a horrible nightmare, where--out of nowhere in the middle of a perfectly benign dream, suddenly, mum appeared--we were walking down a rutted country track--when I tornado popped up in front of us--on a sunny day! Stranger still, in the dream--tho' we were in the middle of nowhere in the country--and my aunt's house was supposedly just down the way (tho' it couldn't be seen in the dream)--but the tornado was between us and safety--so I dived into a hollow--- a hollow made of grass, like a hole in the earth--and mum dived in after me--and the tornado was on top of us, you could hear it screaming, and the grass was all bent down, and we were yelling and grabbing the earth, but the tornado was sucking us in...woke up in a cold sweat, and couldn't sleep again for nearly a half hour, after---had this terrible premonition that something truly horrible is going to happen to me, sometime soon--very, very disturbing dream.

Shortly before the tornado dream, I dreamed I was in some school auditorium, watching a concert--sort of like the old Lawrence Welk show--a bunch of namby-pamby fluffly/frilly girls on stage, singing campy old songs.

Honestly, I'd be happy if I never had dreams at night. Got enough weirdness and bad vibes in my life, personally speaking.