Looking around, Coralie realized she was considerably younger than her new classmates if not the youngest of the group. She pulled her pale pink suitcase along behind her, joining the rest of the group.
"Need some help there Princess?" Asked one man in a mocking tone, turning around to face her.
"No. I'm right thanks." Coralie smiled politely at him, and he turned around again. A moment later, another man turned around for a moment before starting to laugh with his friend.
"Hey look Joe. It's another one. Beauty spa's that way love!"
"That's one hundred fifty six, one hundred fifty seven, one hundred and fifty eight in ten minutes!" Officer Davison announced, a pleased grin on his face as he crouched beside a now red faced, puffing Coralie. "Good work Officer McCauley." Their teacher slapped her hard on the back. Coralie looked up at her predominately male classmates, to see most of them gawking at her, open mouthed in astonishment. Only a month into training at the accademy and Coralie was well and truly on the rise as the year's star pupil.
"There are three traffic light colours. Red, yellow and green. They signify what?" Their theory lesson that day was based around road rules and driving. Another tutor, Officer Wells, was putting them through their paces and testing their knowledge.
"Green is go, red stop, and yellow go through really fast if you're going too fast to stop."
"Good, but not quite. Anyone else." Officer Wells looked around the room at her students. "Officer McCauley?"
"Red is stop and green go. Yellow is the cautionary light. If you are going too fast too stop, go through but do so with caution. If you're well away from the lights, prepare to stop."
"Spot on. Ok, a little harder. What is the legal blood alcohol level?"
Coralie spoke up immediately. She'd been studying drink driving just the other night and the facts were fresh in her mind. "Ideally, you should have no alcohol in your system in order to drive. However, the legal limit is currently set at 0.05 BAC. In order to comply with the limit, males may drink no more than two standard drinks in the first hour followed by one standard drink per hour following. For females, one standard drink per hour is allowable."
"Exceptional Officer. Well done."
At their graduation ceremony 5 months later, Coralie's name was called midway through her classmates and she proceeded to the stage to receive her graduation certificate. "Officer Coralie McCauleu. Graduating with honours for exceptional performance in physical and academic tasks. Well done." Like her classmates, Coralie shook hands with the officer presenting the certificates.
"How'd you do it Coralie?" Asked one of her classmates. "We all thought you'd gone the wrong way and you were headed for the spa."
"I noticed."
"So? You beat all of us on the gym and you showed us up in class. What's your secret?"
"Well, lets just say looks can be deceiving, and not all blondes are dumb. AS for gym, well. What doesn't kill me makes me hotter."
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Saturday, July 6, 2013
True Colours
Laverne gently fingered the leaf growing from the stem of the sweet smelling flower in her family's garden. As she did so, a light rain began to fall and she stayed a moment, watching as fresh water droplets appeared on the leaf before falling to the ground, making it temporarily darker in a little circle where the drop had fallen.
Meanwhile, Cheryl, who was a few years younger than her sister was inside, practicing her magic. "Dlareme" She called, pointing her wand at a vase across the room. The particular spell was supposed to make an object fly, and allow the caster to bring it to them. But, it didn't work and the vase flew only a few metres before crashing to the grand and shattering into several broken fragments. She tried another spell, to turn a fairly invaluable object into something else. But that too malfunctioned, leaving the object half of what it used to be and half what she'd attempted to turn it into, rendering it unusable.
Cheryl screamed, throwing another vase on the ground in angry frustration, smiling defiantly at the satisfying crash as the vase hit the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. She continued to smile as she threw the half transformed object to the floor in retaliation for the spells gone awry, as if it was somehow the object's fault.
Laverne walked into the room, seeming to glide as she made her way over to her sister, carefully dodging the broken vase pieces on her way. She put a calm hand on Cheyl's shoulder and smiled.
"It's alright."
Cheryl glared at her sister, her face red with the tension coursing through her body.
"Alright?" She asked. "What do you mean 'alright'? In what way is this," Cheryl gestured at the two piles of broken vases and the half transformed object on the floor. "Alright?"
"Well, we can easily fix that." She said, gesturing at the half transformed object. "And as for that, well, we can clean that up easily."
"You mean you can." Cheryl retorted.
For years, it went on like that. Cheryl was always being outshone by Laverne, who seemed to have a natural talent for magic. One day though, Laverne's life began to fall apart. Her engagement was called off and she was left with nothing. She hadn't yet managed to establish a career and her social life was a scandal after her break up.
Hunter had been Laverne's best friend since childhood but little did she realize, he'd had a secret crush on her that dated back to their teenage years. In the midst of her rage, Hunter was caught in the crossfire of a spell she'd cast, vert, which transformed one object into another and also worked on people. She'd meant to cast it on something inanimate, but Hunter had got in the way and so the spell had instead been cast upon him.
Cheryl had arrived at just the right moment and tried to reverse the spell. Unfortunately, she pronounced the counter spell slightly wrong and as a result, the original spell was only half reversed. Growing up, Cheryl had never really liked Hunter, instead, she was always jealous of the friendship he had with Laverne, and not with her.
Now, a Frankenstein of sorts, Hunter fled, believing Cheryl had cursed him for being friends with her sister and he was never seen again. This was the point at which things for Laverne started to look up. She got a job as the assistant of the town mayor and her social status within the community rose once again.
Before long, things were the way they'd once been. People kept their distance from Cheryl, shuddering when they saw her and trying desperately not to be noticed. Laverne meanwhile was always stopped so the townspeople could give her compliments and tell her how great she was. She had many friends.
But soon, Laverne newly regained power got to her head. She began using her popularity and the influence her position as the town mayor's assistant gave her to spread terrible rumors of her sister. "Did you hear what she did to that poor young man?" A woman asked, whispering to her friend on a street corner. "He turned that innocent young man into a monster!"
"Hey look!" Whispered the woman's friend urgently. "There she is now!" She pointed with a shaky finger toward Cheryl, who stood on the opposite side of the road, waiting to cross.
"Don't make eye contact." The first woman warned. "She might turn us into stone!"
"Or worse." Her friend shuddered.
'You shouldn't let statements like that bother you.' Cheryl recited over and over in her head, an attempt to keep herself calm.
As she walked across the road, Cheryl shook her head at the two woman who had been gossiping about her. They were now running in the opposite direction, most likely fearing for their lives. As she continued along the path, she noticed a small young boy hiding under a public bench. She knelt down and smiled at him. He began to cower and was near tears with fear.
"It's alright. I won't hurt you." She said gently. "You look hungry. Here you go." Carefully, Cheryl pulled a piece of bread from her shopping bag and held it out to the little boy, who shuffled back, pressing himself against a bench pole.
Continuing to smile, Cheryl reached back into her shopping bag. This time, she pulled out a small paper bag and set it on the ground, placing the bread atop it and pushing it toward the boy. She backed away a fraction and watched as the boy cautiously reached out to take the piece of bread and took a few tiny bites before hungrily eating what remained.
Meanwhile, Cheryl, who was a few years younger than her sister was inside, practicing her magic. "Dlareme" She called, pointing her wand at a vase across the room. The particular spell was supposed to make an object fly, and allow the caster to bring it to them. But, it didn't work and the vase flew only a few metres before crashing to the grand and shattering into several broken fragments. She tried another spell, to turn a fairly invaluable object into something else. But that too malfunctioned, leaving the object half of what it used to be and half what she'd attempted to turn it into, rendering it unusable.
Cheryl screamed, throwing another vase on the ground in angry frustration, smiling defiantly at the satisfying crash as the vase hit the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. She continued to smile as she threw the half transformed object to the floor in retaliation for the spells gone awry, as if it was somehow the object's fault.
Laverne walked into the room, seeming to glide as she made her way over to her sister, carefully dodging the broken vase pieces on her way. She put a calm hand on Cheyl's shoulder and smiled.
"It's alright."
Cheryl glared at her sister, her face red with the tension coursing through her body.
"Alright?" She asked. "What do you mean 'alright'? In what way is this," Cheryl gestured at the two piles of broken vases and the half transformed object on the floor. "Alright?"
"Well, we can easily fix that." She said, gesturing at the half transformed object. "And as for that, well, we can clean that up easily."
"You mean you can." Cheryl retorted.
For years, it went on like that. Cheryl was always being outshone by Laverne, who seemed to have a natural talent for magic. One day though, Laverne's life began to fall apart. Her engagement was called off and she was left with nothing. She hadn't yet managed to establish a career and her social life was a scandal after her break up.
Hunter had been Laverne's best friend since childhood but little did she realize, he'd had a secret crush on her that dated back to their teenage years. In the midst of her rage, Hunter was caught in the crossfire of a spell she'd cast, vert, which transformed one object into another and also worked on people. She'd meant to cast it on something inanimate, but Hunter had got in the way and so the spell had instead been cast upon him.
Cheryl had arrived at just the right moment and tried to reverse the spell. Unfortunately, she pronounced the counter spell slightly wrong and as a result, the original spell was only half reversed. Growing up, Cheryl had never really liked Hunter, instead, she was always jealous of the friendship he had with Laverne, and not with her.
Now, a Frankenstein of sorts, Hunter fled, believing Cheryl had cursed him for being friends with her sister and he was never seen again. This was the point at which things for Laverne started to look up. She got a job as the assistant of the town mayor and her social status within the community rose once again.
Before long, things were the way they'd once been. People kept their distance from Cheryl, shuddering when they saw her and trying desperately not to be noticed. Laverne meanwhile was always stopped so the townspeople could give her compliments and tell her how great she was. She had many friends.
But soon, Laverne newly regained power got to her head. She began using her popularity and the influence her position as the town mayor's assistant gave her to spread terrible rumors of her sister. "Did you hear what she did to that poor young man?" A woman asked, whispering to her friend on a street corner. "He turned that innocent young man into a monster!"
"Hey look!" Whispered the woman's friend urgently. "There she is now!" She pointed with a shaky finger toward Cheryl, who stood on the opposite side of the road, waiting to cross.
"Don't make eye contact." The first woman warned. "She might turn us into stone!"
"Or worse." Her friend shuddered.
'You shouldn't let statements like that bother you.' Cheryl recited over and over in her head, an attempt to keep herself calm.
As she walked across the road, Cheryl shook her head at the two woman who had been gossiping about her. They were now running in the opposite direction, most likely fearing for their lives. As she continued along the path, she noticed a small young boy hiding under a public bench. She knelt down and smiled at him. He began to cower and was near tears with fear.
"It's alright. I won't hurt you." She said gently. "You look hungry. Here you go." Carefully, Cheryl pulled a piece of bread from her shopping bag and held it out to the little boy, who shuffled back, pressing himself against a bench pole.
Continuing to smile, Cheryl reached back into her shopping bag. This time, she pulled out a small paper bag and set it on the ground, placing the bread atop it and pushing it toward the boy. She backed away a fraction and watched as the boy cautiously reached out to take the piece of bread and took a few tiny bites before hungrily eating what remained.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
View
Imogen and Louise both had Cerebral Palsy and miraculously, they were both affected in the same way. The only difference between the girls was their view on their disability and their outlook on life.
Imogen looked at the things she could do rather than what she couldn't and what she couldn't do like other people, she did differently. She looked forward and took everything one stp at a time. For Imogen, anything was possible if she put her mind to it and worked hard. Sure, life was tough and sometimes she was blue, like everyone. But every single time, with out fail, she'd get back up, dust herself off and get on with things.
Louise meanwhile would often wallow in self pity and feeling sorry for herself. She wondered if she could do things, then decided most likely not. She didn't try. She kept to her cozy, small little life and never did anything different or new. She wanted sympathy and often played the 'disabled' card. Louise was always too scared to do anything and she worried about possibilities that may not even happen.
Life is about perception, what view you take of the world and your circumstances. You're only human if you sometimes have bad days and think 'why me?' Everyone has those moments. But you also have choices. So, do you want to go out and live your life or do would you rather sit in your house all day and do nothing? Would you rather stick to the same boring routine you've had for the last twenty years or put yourself out there and try something new? Would you rather have a full interesting life or a boring, predictable one? So which view do you take? Optimistic or pessimistic? Positive or negative? Good or bad? Happy or depressing? Life is what you make it to be. It's your choice, so what do you choose?
Imogen looked at the things she could do rather than what she couldn't and what she couldn't do like other people, she did differently. She looked forward and took everything one stp at a time. For Imogen, anything was possible if she put her mind to it and worked hard. Sure, life was tough and sometimes she was blue, like everyone. But every single time, with out fail, she'd get back up, dust herself off and get on with things.
Louise meanwhile would often wallow in self pity and feeling sorry for herself. She wondered if she could do things, then decided most likely not. She didn't try. She kept to her cozy, small little life and never did anything different or new. She wanted sympathy and often played the 'disabled' card. Louise was always too scared to do anything and she worried about possibilities that may not even happen.
Life is about perception, what view you take of the world and your circumstances. You're only human if you sometimes have bad days and think 'why me?' Everyone has those moments. But you also have choices. So, do you want to go out and live your life or do would you rather sit in your house all day and do nothing? Would you rather stick to the same boring routine you've had for the last twenty years or put yourself out there and try something new? Would you rather have a full interesting life or a boring, predictable one? So which view do you take? Optimistic or pessimistic? Positive or negative? Good or bad? Happy or depressing? Life is what you make it to be. It's your choice, so what do you choose?
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Ageing
Like all little boys, Alan couldn't wait for his birthday, to be a whole year older and get closer to being a grown up. When you're a grown up, they said, then you can do anything you want, they said. At six, Alan didn't completely understand it but the general idea of growing up exciting him and, like all impatient little six year olds, Alan wanted to grow up. The only problem being time.
It seemed to drag on and on. Each day felt like a whole week's worth of days and to a little boy, that was a lot of waiting. But, with time, he grew, went to high school, the raging hormones kicked in and he was caught up with the rest of the teenage crowd, doing things he'd surely regret later.
Once he'd passed his teenage years and was climbing through his twenties, Alan felt relieved to be rid of the hormones and have the rollercoaster of puberty behind him. Now, he had bigger worries than who was going to the football game or whether or not the girl who sat in the back row liked him or if that person who seemed nice was safe to talk to, if he wanted to go on not being teased or picked on. No, now Alan worried about he was going to do with his life. As a child, he'd changed his mind quite a bit. One week, he would be a doctor, the bext a policeman, the next a teacher and the next a champion sports star. Through his teenage years, the phases had lasted longer and he'd thought much more seriously about them. Even during his years at university, the rest of his life had seemed a long way off until suddenly one day, it hit him in the face, like someone had slapped him. And there he was, fast approaching his thirties with still not a clue.
From there, Alan went through all the usual motions, taking things day by day. He established his career, got married, had a family and not thinking much further then tommorow or next week as he watched his children, walking the same path of ageing that he had done, and was still doing, just as everyone.
About his mid to late forties was when Alan no longer liked the idea of growing up. Instead, he wanted to freeze time, even make himself immortal, not that that was possible. He wanted to stop right there and not age another day.
At 50, Alan started noticing the older couples walking in the park or out in town. There was one he remembered, walking by the sea shore, arm in arm. The man held a cane tightly in one hand and each step he took was shaky, as if he could fall flat on his face at any given moment. His wife meanwhile held a walker carefully as if her life depended on it, her shopping sitting in the front basket. She too looked fragile and vulnerable. It seemed that even the slightest change in the wind's course could knock her from her feet.
Alan shuddered to think that he might be like that one day. Age, they had told him, was just a number. Growing old didn't matter. 'The Golden Years' they called it. But watching the couple walking by the sea, it didn't seem to Alan anything close to 'the golden years'. He didn't fancy losing his memories, or getting arthritis. No, he didn't fancy getting closer to death or being sick all the time. Granted, not everyone aged that way, but some did and Alan's greatest fear was that we would be one of them.
Although, Alan realised that he'd led a great life, and by golly, it wasn't over yet. Even if he was getting older, he thought, so what? I can still have just as much fun as when I was 5 or 15 or even 42.
It seemed to drag on and on. Each day felt like a whole week's worth of days and to a little boy, that was a lot of waiting. But, with time, he grew, went to high school, the raging hormones kicked in and he was caught up with the rest of the teenage crowd, doing things he'd surely regret later.
Once he'd passed his teenage years and was climbing through his twenties, Alan felt relieved to be rid of the hormones and have the rollercoaster of puberty behind him. Now, he had bigger worries than who was going to the football game or whether or not the girl who sat in the back row liked him or if that person who seemed nice was safe to talk to, if he wanted to go on not being teased or picked on. No, now Alan worried about he was going to do with his life. As a child, he'd changed his mind quite a bit. One week, he would be a doctor, the bext a policeman, the next a teacher and the next a champion sports star. Through his teenage years, the phases had lasted longer and he'd thought much more seriously about them. Even during his years at university, the rest of his life had seemed a long way off until suddenly one day, it hit him in the face, like someone had slapped him. And there he was, fast approaching his thirties with still not a clue.
From there, Alan went through all the usual motions, taking things day by day. He established his career, got married, had a family and not thinking much further then tommorow or next week as he watched his children, walking the same path of ageing that he had done, and was still doing, just as everyone.
About his mid to late forties was when Alan no longer liked the idea of growing up. Instead, he wanted to freeze time, even make himself immortal, not that that was possible. He wanted to stop right there and not age another day.
At 50, Alan started noticing the older couples walking in the park or out in town. There was one he remembered, walking by the sea shore, arm in arm. The man held a cane tightly in one hand and each step he took was shaky, as if he could fall flat on his face at any given moment. His wife meanwhile held a walker carefully as if her life depended on it, her shopping sitting in the front basket. She too looked fragile and vulnerable. It seemed that even the slightest change in the wind's course could knock her from her feet.
Alan shuddered to think that he might be like that one day. Age, they had told him, was just a number. Growing old didn't matter. 'The Golden Years' they called it. But watching the couple walking by the sea, it didn't seem to Alan anything close to 'the golden years'. He didn't fancy losing his memories, or getting arthritis. No, he didn't fancy getting closer to death or being sick all the time. Granted, not everyone aged that way, but some did and Alan's greatest fear was that we would be one of them.
Although, Alan realised that he'd led a great life, and by golly, it wasn't over yet. Even if he was getting older, he thought, so what? I can still have just as much fun as when I was 5 or 15 or even 42.
Monday, June 10, 2013
The Coveaus
Eli and Damon looked around the dark room. They had plastered themselves against the wall and stayed there ever since the lights had gone out and they heard the click of the lock on the door, trapping them together in a small room. The mysterious, eerie noises had begun not long after the loud click of the lock. One could pass it off as the wind, but Eli and Damon knew better. They'd watched too many horror movies to shrug at strange noises.
Both of them jumped at the sound of footsteps, a sound akin to thunder in the otherwise deathly silence of the deserted room. The already defening sound grew louder still as the footsteps came closer and Damon and Eli looked around frantically for the source of the noise.
Suddenly, the room was flooded with a bright light as the aliens came in. Eli and Damon froze. All they could do was stare. The creatures were tall, had no head and bodies that were covered in a black and white swirly pattern and had a gapping hole in the centre of their chest. They also had an old fashioned lantern hanging in mid air, not far from their non exisistent heads.
"People are detected." One said, its voice deep and somewhat soothing yet its manner of speaking robotic. "Humans." Said another, its voice exactly the same as the first. There were at least ten of them, all standing in a row each looking exactly like the one before it.
Involuntarily, Eli began to tremble, Damon following suit. "You will remain immobile." One of the aliens ordered. "Who are you?" Eli's question came out in a squeaky, timid whisper. "And silent." Commanded another.
The answer to Eli's question came in the form of what appeared to be a war cry. "We are the Coveau. The mighty, strong, indestructable, undefeated Coveau." "What is your inferior species?" Asked one. Damon and Eli both said nothing. "Speak!" Demanded another of the Coveaus. "I'm Damon, and this is my mate Eli." "You are partners." Another Coveau nodded its understanding. "No. Eli is my mate. Friend." "You are allys." The alien corrected. Damon nodded in response.
The Coveaus stood, facing them like soldiers, remaining silent, until finally, they seemed to come to life again. "You will follow us." A coveau ordered. Damon and Eli didn't move. "Please, just let us go." Eli begged. "You will follow us." The Coveau repeated.
When neither Eli nor Damon moved, four of the Coveaus stepped out of line, two standing at a attention on either side of Damon and the other two on either side of Eli. The other six turned away and began to leave, the march robotic and ordered. The coveaus linked their arms in with Damon and Eli's and began to move, forcing them to go with them. "Where are you taking us?" Eli tried. "You will remain silent." Insisted a coveau, squeezing harder on Eli's arm, punishment perhaps, for speaking against orders.
Eli and Damon were thrown forcefully from the Coveau's grip, falling flat on their faces on the cold, damp, cement street. They got up and turned around to see a single Coveau, lingering in the doorway, watching them somehow. "You will not speak of the mighty Coveau." It ordered. "We shall remain unkonown and you shall not return here, for we dwell here now." Eli and Damon nodded, both unsure of whether they should be relieved or scared still.
The Coveau disappeared and the door closed behind it with a bang, not as thunderously loud as their footsteps, but still considerably startling. Damon and Eli looked at each other, their eyes wide and breathed a sigh of relief. They may never make mention of the Coveau again, but they certainly wouldn't forget them any time soon.
Both of them jumped at the sound of footsteps, a sound akin to thunder in the otherwise deathly silence of the deserted room. The already defening sound grew louder still as the footsteps came closer and Damon and Eli looked around frantically for the source of the noise.
Suddenly, the room was flooded with a bright light as the aliens came in. Eli and Damon froze. All they could do was stare. The creatures were tall, had no head and bodies that were covered in a black and white swirly pattern and had a gapping hole in the centre of their chest. They also had an old fashioned lantern hanging in mid air, not far from their non exisistent heads.
"People are detected." One said, its voice deep and somewhat soothing yet its manner of speaking robotic. "Humans." Said another, its voice exactly the same as the first. There were at least ten of them, all standing in a row each looking exactly like the one before it.
Involuntarily, Eli began to tremble, Damon following suit. "You will remain immobile." One of the aliens ordered. "Who are you?" Eli's question came out in a squeaky, timid whisper. "And silent." Commanded another.
The answer to Eli's question came in the form of what appeared to be a war cry. "We are the Coveau. The mighty, strong, indestructable, undefeated Coveau." "What is your inferior species?" Asked one. Damon and Eli both said nothing. "Speak!" Demanded another of the Coveaus. "I'm Damon, and this is my mate Eli." "You are partners." Another Coveau nodded its understanding. "No. Eli is my mate. Friend." "You are allys." The alien corrected. Damon nodded in response.
The Coveaus stood, facing them like soldiers, remaining silent, until finally, they seemed to come to life again. "You will follow us." A coveau ordered. Damon and Eli didn't move. "Please, just let us go." Eli begged. "You will follow us." The Coveau repeated.
When neither Eli nor Damon moved, four of the Coveaus stepped out of line, two standing at a attention on either side of Damon and the other two on either side of Eli. The other six turned away and began to leave, the march robotic and ordered. The coveaus linked their arms in with Damon and Eli's and began to move, forcing them to go with them. "Where are you taking us?" Eli tried. "You will remain silent." Insisted a coveau, squeezing harder on Eli's arm, punishment perhaps, for speaking against orders.
Eli and Damon were thrown forcefully from the Coveau's grip, falling flat on their faces on the cold, damp, cement street. They got up and turned around to see a single Coveau, lingering in the doorway, watching them somehow. "You will not speak of the mighty Coveau." It ordered. "We shall remain unkonown and you shall not return here, for we dwell here now." Eli and Damon nodded, both unsure of whether they should be relieved or scared still.
The Coveau disappeared and the door closed behind it with a bang, not as thunderously loud as their footsteps, but still considerably startling. Damon and Eli looked at each other, their eyes wide and breathed a sigh of relief. They may never make mention of the Coveau again, but they certainly wouldn't forget them any time soon.
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