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Hmmmm
I'm not sure about this. I've found a nifty little site called AntipodeanSF which accepts short (under 500 words) scifi stories by Australian writers and posts them online and stuff. Thinking of applying. Saw the site, read the ones posted, got an idea, and immediately tapped out this WEIRD little sto-ree that would be appropriate. Unsure of quality, though. I'd like EuJAR at lest to read it and give me an opinion, though anyone else is welcome to as well, before I send it off blindly and get rejected. Input, please.
I lift the instrument carefully and place it on my head, adjusting the visor and making sure the whole thing fits comfortably. I'm quite excited, to tell you the truth. These things are supposed to be excellent stress relievers, providing an alternate reality world to escape to when the pressures of everyday life become too much. Sounds very sensible.
There's a warning on the box about overuse, but I didn't read it too carefully. I'm not planning to use it that often – and besides, surely there's no such thing as too much relaxation?
I flip the switch...
Welcome to UltraReality. Pick an world. Fantasy Island. Dark Garden. Dream –
Dark Garden, I think firmly. It sounds soothing. It's amazing the way the real world has melted away, to be replaced by this new reality. The shapes of trees begin to arise in the warm semi-darkness that surrounds me, and a path appears under my feet. I step forwards...
* * *
The garden has changed, these last few weeks. I've discovered new paths, new hideaways, and am beginning to learn that it is my wishes which shape this other reality. I enter this world almost every day now, loving the peace I find and the sense of security and control.
I pass a favourite grove of trees and smile, reaching out to brush my hand along the rough bark of one of them. No-one can say that this doesn't feel as authentic as the "real" world. Sometimes the dark garden seems more real, to me.
When I take the headset off I'm breathing hard, and have to wait while my room swims into focus. Maybe my friends are right and I am becoming too dependent on this thing, but I'm confident my brain can handle it. And sometimes, when I'm deepest in the darkness, I can hear a little voice whispering to me that reality is what you make it...
* * *
It's always a relief to return to the real world after my forays into that hated imaginary place. I wander the paths for a while, content, but suddenly I can hear the voices of strange people. I concentrate and retreat further into the world I love, rejecting these phantoms of my treacherous imagination. Somehow their voices still drift down to me, though.
"...an addiction..."
"...pretty far gone..."
"...more and more, these days..."
There is a sharp tugging on the top of my head and I whimper in pain as the world I know warps and bends. The tugging comes again, followed by a sudden sense of release.
I look dreamily around, watching as the safe, beloved planes of reality shift and merge and blur, becoming unfamiliar shapes outlined by a bright light. Too bright.
I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to come back.
Also interested in entering a short story competition run by Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, a more prestigious online and printed mag. I've got a story idea that can be adapted and cut down to 5000 words, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea to enter or not. Oh well, entries don't have to be in til July 31. I'll think it over.
English assignment. Blah. 928 words done but that is dodgy crap and will have to be extensively revised. I think it will be a tiny bit (okay, a LOT) over the limit. Teegs, EuJAR, how far over can we go?
Don't even get me STARTED on my maths homework, conveniently doubled in size because we were given the work for thursday's cancelled-by-hamlet lesson as well...
I'm off to have a bath, eat chocolate, and forget ALL ABOUT coordinate geometry.
I lift the instrument carefully and place it on my head, adjusting the visor and making sure the whole thing fits comfortably. I'm quite excited, to tell you the truth. These things are supposed to be excellent stress relievers, providing an alternate reality world to escape to when the pressures of everyday life become too much. Sounds very sensible.
There's a warning on the box about overuse, but I didn't read it too carefully. I'm not planning to use it that often – and besides, surely there's no such thing as too much relaxation?
I flip the switch...
Welcome to UltraReality. Pick an world. Fantasy Island. Dark Garden. Dream –
Dark Garden, I think firmly. It sounds soothing. It's amazing the way the real world has melted away, to be replaced by this new reality. The shapes of trees begin to arise in the warm semi-darkness that surrounds me, and a path appears under my feet. I step forwards...
* * *
The garden has changed, these last few weeks. I've discovered new paths, new hideaways, and am beginning to learn that it is my wishes which shape this other reality. I enter this world almost every day now, loving the peace I find and the sense of security and control.
I pass a favourite grove of trees and smile, reaching out to brush my hand along the rough bark of one of them. No-one can say that this doesn't feel as authentic as the "real" world. Sometimes the dark garden seems more real, to me.
When I take the headset off I'm breathing hard, and have to wait while my room swims into focus. Maybe my friends are right and I am becoming too dependent on this thing, but I'm confident my brain can handle it. And sometimes, when I'm deepest in the darkness, I can hear a little voice whispering to me that reality is what you make it...
* * *
It's always a relief to return to the real world after my forays into that hated imaginary place. I wander the paths for a while, content, but suddenly I can hear the voices of strange people. I concentrate and retreat further into the world I love, rejecting these phantoms of my treacherous imagination. Somehow their voices still drift down to me, though.
"...an addiction..."
"...pretty far gone..."
"...more and more, these days..."
There is a sharp tugging on the top of my head and I whimper in pain as the world I know warps and bends. The tugging comes again, followed by a sudden sense of release.
I look dreamily around, watching as the safe, beloved planes of reality shift and merge and blur, becoming unfamiliar shapes outlined by a bright light. Too bright.
I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to come back.
Also interested in entering a short story competition run by Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, a more prestigious online and printed mag. I've got a story idea that can be adapted and cut down to 5000 words, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea to enter or not. Oh well, entries don't have to be in til July 31. I'll think it over.
English assignment. Blah. 928 words done but that is dodgy crap and will have to be extensively revised. I think it will be a tiny bit (okay, a LOT) over the limit. Teegs, EuJAR, how far over can we go?
Don't even get me STARTED on my maths homework, conveniently doubled in size because we were given the work for thursday's cancelled-by-hamlet lesson as well...
I'm off to have a bath, eat chocolate, and forget ALL ABOUT coordinate geometry.
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Re:
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clever use of italics, might i add.