24/100: Twitter Feed

Day 24: Write ten tweets from the perspective of the main character of a major novel or play? What does Jay Gatsby tell cyberspace that he might not tell us? How would this affect gossip and intrigue in a Jane Austen novel? 

Length: Ten 150-character-or-less tweets

23/100: Translator Collar

Day 23: Imagine you receive a pet collar that can translate everything a pet thinks. Using a cat, dog, chameleon, or whatever pet of your choosing, write a two-page dialogue where you communicate with them. Do they say anything beyond the food they like, and why? Length: two-page dialogue

A Moment with Kino: 

FAMILY ROOM - LATE EVENING

BC:

Hey

KINO THE DOG:

Oh, hey. 

BC:

What are you doing?

KINO THE DOG:

Licking the empty sack where my balls used 

to be. What does it look like?

BC:

Well, stop. You're giving yourself another 

hot spot.

KINO THE DOG:

What? No I'm not. 

BC:

Actually, you are.  I can see it. Knock that 

shit off or it's going to get infected. 

KINO THE DOG:

Ugh, fine.  Just don't take me to the vet 

again, okay?  I can't stand your worrying. 

BC:

Hey bud. I'm just looking out for you. 

KINO THE DOG:

I'm part wolf, remember? So, really...who's 

looking out for who? 

Kino slowly starts to get up. Mild arthritis and 14 years-old in Dog years makes it a bit difficult. 

KINO THE DOG:

Unnnhhh...

BC:

Dude, are you okay?  Do you need some help?

KINO THE DOG:

No, man. I got it.  I'm just as old as dirt. 

BC:

Yeah, I know.  I'm just trying to– 

KINO THE DOG:

Thanks. I appreciate it. I do. I'm just going 

to move my old bones over to your side, where I 

can lay down and silently encourage you to 

scratch my ears and rub my belly. 

BC:

Got it. The passive aggressive approach. 

KINO THE DOG:

Honestly, I'm not sure how I can be any more 

direct. I don't have time for this 'passive 

aggressive BS' in my old age. 

BC:

Good point. Well, make yourself comfortable. 

Relax. I'll give you a belly rub. You 

don't even have to ask. 

Kino lays down next to where BC is sitting and rolls onto his side.  BC starts to rub his chest and belly as Netflix's "Daredevil" switches to the next episode in the background. Minutes pass without either saying a word, until Kino moves to rest his head on BC's thigh. 

KINO THE DOG:

I don't say this enough, but thanks for a great 

fourteen years. 

BC:

Well, that goes both ways. I'm not sure I 

would've made it through 2010 without you.  

KINO THE DOG:

I suppose you're right. That was a real shitty 

year. What was that girl's name again?

  (BC answers him with a stern glare)

But look at you now; Husband. Father. Mentor. 

You built yourself a great little family here.

BC:

It's funny how those things work out, huh? 

KINO THE DOG:

Hysterical. Hopefully they'll be able to continue 

to look after you as well as I have. 

BC:

I think they'll manage. 

KINO THE DOG:

I'm not too worried about it.

 (pause)

Love ya, buddy. 

BC:

Love ya too, bub. 

22/100: Your Own Fashion Show

Day 22: You have to put on a fashion show using only clothing you own. Write down a blurb on 5 different pieces of clothing, telling your audience about the merits and the mystique of each article. How do you effectively convince your audience? Do you think you could make them wear it? Length: 5 short paragraphs

Sporting a brown suede jacket, white button down shirt, grey graphic tee and a pair of rough-hewn blue jeans, Jeff tips his fedora and casually walks down the catwalk towards the blinding snaps of a wall of flashing bulbs.

The jeans are straight-fit levis that have the slightest bit of whitewash to them.  The edges are frayed and worn, as if they've been through the wash more times than one could count.  The waist rides low, following the trends of today's younger generation. Red boxer fabric can be seen through a worn down patch below the left pocket.  The cuffs are rolled up twice above a pair of red high tops.

A slim-fit, medium-sized grey tee is half-tucked into the waist of the jeans.  An old Polaroid logo spreads across the chest, faded away to almost nothing. The fabric looks soft and comfortable.

A white, button-down shirt covers the tee, open in the front, and un-tucked so that the bottom hangs just below the suede jacket.  The collar is lightly starched, so as not to look stiff and boarded, the tips flaring out over his clavicles.

The vintage jacket fits slim and sleek over the layered shirts, it's black lining creating a perfect contrast between the white button-down and the light-brown suede. White stitching patterns sharply line Jeff's slim form. It moves perfectly with him, as if he walked straight out of the frames of Starsky and Hutch.

Perfectly completing the ensemble is a small, straw fedora with a blue band circling its head. The narrow band barely sits above his eye brow.  It is stylish and sleek, yet a fitting tribute to the classic gentlemen of days past.

The bulbs continue to flash as Jeff turns his back to the cameras.  He walks back towards the rear of the stage, confidence following him wherever he goes.

21/100: Reminds Me of This One Saying

Day 21: The next time you hear someone saying a popular expression, write it down. Then, write a short story that disproves the “point” of that expression. How does reality differ from conventional wisdom. Length: 400 words

"You're so full of shit."

Okay, one; I'm not.  I mean, I can sometimes, you know, in the heat of the moment, stretch the truth a bit.  I think everyone tends to do this from time to time in the excitement of the moment, some worse than others.  I would describe myself as landing slightly onto the center of this scale. However, “full of shit,” may be a bit of a stretch, especially by reality’s standards.

We all have “shit” in our system. Feces. Poop. Human waste. It’s in there. And it’s always (ideally) moving along down the tunnel to make its way out.  Interestingly enough, there’s only a small percentage of actual poop that’s in our system at any given time, 5-20lbs of it to be exact.  Considering that I’m 165lbs on average, and that I’m mostly on the lighter range of the weight spectrum, my body is incapable of being composed of no more than 33% and no less than 8.25% of waste at a time. Furthermore, that composition of waste is made up of about 75% of water, the rest being a combination of soluble and insoluble fibers, bacteria (live and dead), other cells and of course, mucus.  That means that at any given time, the actual amount of physical waste existing in my body ranges anywhere from 2.06-8.25%, more likely leaning towards the lower number, as I’m not an exceptionally big eater.

When one thinks of how to define the term “full,” it’s easy to picture a glass of water, filled to the brim, the meniscus seemingly ready to break at any moment. I could not possibly fill up that glass any more, for fear that it would pour over the edges and get everything around it wet. Fortunately for everyone around me, my poop is not designed to behave in such a way.  Scientifically speaking, I’m completely incapable of creating a scenario in which I would be literally full of shit. Unless of course, this was done manually, in which case I would be unlikely to survive such a catastrophe.  I imagine this scenario being carried out by the Cartels as a warning. Note to self: don’t mess with the Cartels.

So next time someone tells you that you’re full of shit, just remember–you’re not.  Not even close. Actually, they’re full of shit for even suggesting that you are, being that they’re off by around 95%. Take that, haters.

20/100: One-Sentence Story

Day 20: Based on the image below, write a one-sentence story. What parts of the image do you pick and what parts are unimportant? Why did you pick the parts you did?  

Consider the most famous example of this prompt, Ernest Hemingway’s six-word heartbreaker: 

For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn

They perished that evening on the ice, cold and exhausted, tethered to one another by a single strand of hope that neither had the strength, or the resolve to pursue.   

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

For me, the strongest element within this image is the connection between beast and man. The two here may not be emotionally bonded, but the rope represents as much, as well as the lengths one would go to in order to aid the other, in spite of the risks.  That idea spoke out to me, moreso than the literal depiction of an environmentalist in the midst of an animal rescue over thin ice.

19/100: Alien Race

Day 19: Take any regular object, place or event, and pretend that an alien race has descended upon Earth and wants to figure out what it is. How do they describe it? What does their description reveal about the object that you didn’t see before? Length: 500 words

The Concert: 

At first, they saw it as a flicker in the sky.  Lightning, perhaps.  Heat flashes, high above the clouds.  They paid it little attention, instead letting the waves of sounds flow through them, until the flashes grew brighter and more vibrant.  A distant roar began to saturate the air, miles above them in the upper reaches of the atmosphere. The ground began to tremble, slightly at first, then gradually building in intensity.  Millions drifted their attention from the amphitheater stage to the dark, evening sky as a large, irregular shape descended from the clouds and random particles of dirt and stone around them began to levitate a few inches above the ground. They were being visited, the first to be chosen among the world...and Dave Matthews hadn't even come on stage yet.

All it would take was a single scream, immediately followed by a surge of the masses, casualties, absolute chaos. Yet, that wasn't the case. Concert-goers in The Gorge peacefully locked their gaze onto the sky as the ship slowly descended onto the sloped field adjacent to the stage, lightly displacing the cloud of marijuana smoke drifting above their heads. The craft was met with silence and awe, the distant echoes of notes last played having long faded into the canyon-lands around them.

A bright, blinding light emitted from the vessel. Those closest to it could not see a door or hatch, just white. Then, nothing. The light blinked out and standing in front of the UFO were five tall, slender beings. They wore no clothing, but seemed to be draped in a wispy, webbing-like material that was indistinguishable as either a garment or part of their anatomy, possibly both. Their movements were graceful and fluid, as if viewing a ballet performance underwater, or rolling clouds of an incoming storm. Everyone around them was suddenly overwhelmed with peace, the intoxicating warmth of their presence spreading through the crowd.  One man, early 20's at best, with a lanky stature most similar to our alien friends, took it upon himself to welcome these visitors to our world.  Fearless, or more than likely tripping on LSD, he approached and proclaimed four, simple words that will forever live on throughout history.

"Welcome to Earth, Man!"

No one seems to be able to recall how things progressed immediately after that initial greeting. What those witnesses do recall is their profound curiosity that would bring such a large gathering together in such a remote place.  No other words were exchanged, just gestures and emotions, feelings at a raw, primal level.  Within moments, Dave Matthews began their set, and our new alien friends became memorized, as we later learned their race had never heard music before.

We've learned much since then, about what sets our race, our culture apart from theirs, and the hundreds of thousands of other civilizations out there. As the music plays on, the Age of Enlightenment begins, and a whole new chapter for not only mankind, but space as we know it has evolved.

18/100: Hey Stranger

Day 18: Write a letter to the last stranger you met. Write it on paper. They could be a cashier or a postal worker. What do you tell them? What clues did they give you that may help you understand a bit more about their living situation?  Length: 500 words

The Letter: 

Dear Peet's Coffee Shop Register-Girl-

As I was waiting for my coffee yesterday morning (thank you–it was delicious by the way), I couldn't help but overheard you explain to the guy behind me that today would be your last day, that you were getting ready to move overseas with your boyfriend and all of the fear and excitement that came along with that change. I just wanted to let you know that, in spite of all the reservations, apprehensions and butterflies that go along with a change that significant, everything will be fine.

This will sound cliché, I know, but you're young, and you have you're entire life ahead of you.  I'm guessing, early 20's maybe?  You probably went to college and obtained a degree that you're not quite sure to do with just yet.  Maybe you're thinking about grad school, but haven't landed on exactly what you want to pursue.  These kind of indecisions are all okay to have right now.  In fact, embrace it, because you never know when an opportunity like this will come around again.

I get it; the older guy in the coffee shop trying to give you life advice.  It's pretty lame, and it's probably hard to refrain from rolling your eyes at the gesture.  I could be that guy that sits here and tells you that I wish that I did it all before I met a girl, settled down, started having kids.  I could be, but I'm not.  As a matter of fact, I did exactly what you are planning on doing right now...and I was petrified.  Of course, there are always going to be things you wish you would've done.  I have friends that work seasonal jobs even now, and spend the money they make on traveling the globe over the rest of the year.  I'm envious of that, sure.  I have expectations of seeing the world, just like many others. Yet, I can be certain that I didn't pass on any opportunities that came my way, no matter what the risk. Those risks are part of what landed me here, in this coffee shop, writing to you.

When I graduated high school, a relative of mine gave me the book, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Suess.  Yes, it's a children's book.  But is it really?  In a unique, simple way, Suess describes a life of obstacles and optimism, of hardships and success, all particular to the path you choose. That small book speaks volumes about the roller coaster you are about to embark on, and I couldn't be more supportive of you.

Explore. Go on adventures.  Be fearless as you circumnavigate these upcoming experiences.  They will shape you and form you into the woman you will one day become.  That in itself is a priceless endeavor.  The 40-year old you will thank you one day, trust me.

Good luck, travel safe and thank you again for the Caramel Macchiato. It was absolutely delicious.

Sincerely,
Brian J Conti