DAY 84: Loopy Loops

Loopy Bear paced at the end of the boardroom, as if he could dodge the bad news.
"They've got over 50 families in their class action already!"  Marvin read off his tablet.  "And that's before Winthrop goes on O'Reilley this afternoon. It's going to be exponential!"
"We've dropped 14 points in the last hour," Priscilla read off her tablet.  "I've got emails from Zurich, London, and Milan.  Everybody wants answers."
Rick placed a piece of paper on the table.  "At this time, I'd like to tender my resignation."
Loopy Bear gave a pleading look to Marvin.  "I only got three fingers here..."
Marvin nodded, and flipped Rick off.

"I just don't get it!  How did this happen?  And all at once?"
Dr Quinn coughed for the room's attention.  "We've tracked down the child actors who you filmed the ad campaign with, brought them back to the lab, under the pretense of pre-production on the next round of commercials."
"They think it's for a web-series," Priscilla chimed in.  "Camp Loopy Loops, we're calling it."
"So the children are isolated, while we research the symptoms they're experiencing.  And yes, they are all testing positive."
Loopy Bear sat in his chair, looking adorable and crestfallen.  "I just don't understand..."

Dr Quinn continued, "The good news is, there's no evidence that it's carcinogenic.  We've been giving the children all kinds of tests - physical, intellectual, sensory... They're at least as healthy as they've ever been.  They're just..."
"Cuter," Marvin said.
He presented pictures of the kids at mealtime.  The children in the pictures did have noticeably larger eyes, approaching the proportions of a Japanese cartoon mascot.  Their smiles were more pronounced, their cheeks more koala-shaped.  In the pictures of a half-dozen morning meal routine, each child looked as if they were having the most wonderful breakfast ever.
"So maybe it's not dangerous?  Really?"  Rick did a half-jump in the air.  "Whatever takes the worst-case scenario off the table!  If they're not dying or sick, we'll get them to love the changes, let them think it's cool!  Priscilla asked the doctor, "Is it permanent?  Can we change them back?"
"I can't see how; they're changed at a genetic level.  They've actually got an augmented helix structure!  We're rather excited, back at the lab..."

In the chairman's seat, Loopy Bear sighed heavily, and grabbed a bourbon to wash down his handfuls of cereal.  "I just wanted to share the family recipe with the world... add some deliciousness to a balanced breakfast..."
He looked to his vice presidents, and held out the bowl of cereal for sharing.  "Anybody want some?" Loopy asked to everyone in the room.  No one accepted.



inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Four-Stranded DNA Makes Human Debut"

DAY 82: Night Survey

Parnicius woke up strapped to the table.  As he became increasingly aware of the degree of his restraints, he began to panic and struggle. The forehead strap gave enough, so Parnicius turned to his right.  Nicodimus was strapped down and vivisected, his mouth held wide open for inspection.  Parnicius's scream startled a masked man in a surgeon's apron; he dropped the metal pan in his hands.
Martin stomped in the tent.  "Enough with ye!" he shouted, served with a Scottish burr and a backhand.  He rested an elbow on the familiar's chest, pressing the air out of Parnicius, until he was barely a whisper.  "We got questions, so save your breath for 'em!"  The hunter stood up, allowing Parnicius to gasp for air.
Martin turned his attention to the man on the floor.  "Geddup, Monty!  An' pick up that heart!"
Monty dusted himself off.  "Sorry.  I got startled, dropped my guard.  Won't happen again..."
"It rarely happens twice, yeah?"  Martin pointed at the dead one.  "What can ye tell me about him?"

Monty began the autopsy.  "Advanced necrosis of the extremities; necrotic tissue in significant portions of the heart and lungs...  The jaw separates in three areas... teeth comparable in count and structure of human teeth.  The canines, however - do not retract."
"Really?  That's interesting.  An' the eyes?"
Monty peeked under an eyelid.  "Yellow sclera, no iris...  Carpathian?"
Martin grinned wide.  "Carr-pathian!  We got us a royal!  Box up that heart, an' keep ye jesus tree under ye shirt, or the whole tent'll go up!"

Martin turned his attention back to Parnicius, studying his neck and wrists.  "Did ye know that about ye friend?  He's a classic, he was; real archetype.   You ever see him turn into a bat?"
Monty interjected, "Are you sure that's safe, sir?"
"Oh, this runt's nothing!  See for y'self!"  Martin pulled his protege toward their prisoner.  "Flush cheeks, harried breath, pissed pants:  he's a familiar!"
Martin pulled the silver cross off Monty's neck and waved it over Parnicius, "Does this hurt?  Does it?"  Parnicius shook his head.
Martin placed the cross on Parnicius' forehead. "Does that hurt?  Eh?"
Martin swatted his forehead, shaking the table and yielding a yowl from Parnicius.  "How about that?  Y'see?  No reaction to the Holy Cross or to contact with silver, and he's got a thin skin! Ain't no vampire; just some boy in black lace who didn't get hugged enough, did ye?  Just a snack on standby!"

"Who the hell are you?" Parnicius whimpered.
"Martin Van Helsing, scion of Professor Abraham, and inheritor of his life's work, converting pseudo-science to science.  Monty there's me assistant, aide-de-campe, and Boswell.  Your master there is one of 70 species we've cataloged in our field guide. And you... well, you're bait."



inspired by Discover Magazine article, "New Disputes Over Psychiatry's Manual"

DAY 70: Dream #46

Wendy was surprised to see Poppin standing there.  "You're still dead, aren't you?"

"Yes.  And I'm here to help you accept it."

Wendy froze in her tracks.  She was as the park pavillion again, waiting for the rain to stop.  She was wearing the pink rainboots she outgrew, and the heather-green coat.  She even had the barrettes in her hair that she wore that day, the ones she put in the coffin with Poppin.  "But I'm sitting right here, yes."

"So I'm dreaming again?"

"Yes.  The same dream.  It's time to change it, isn't it?"

"I- I don't know how."

Poppin offered one of her transcendant smiles, wide as the horizon.  "I know, dear.  It's not easy."

"Everybody says I should."

"Certainly.  You're so afraid of so many things.  Loneliness and guilt, and traffic and crowds, and cars and rain.  It's always going to rain again, you know... eventually.  Have I made you afraid?"

"No...  Hey, why are you talking to me?"

"Because no one else knows what happened.  Do they?"

"No."

"But they ask."

"...yes."

"And you don't tell them?"

"No.  I'm crazy enough already."

"Only because you're not talking, dear.  Fear feeds on silence, like oxygen for fire."

"But if I talk-"

Poppin leaned in, waiting for the rest of the sentence.  Wendy opened her mouth-

The rain had stopped. The park was smothered in that post-rain quiet.

"Go on, Wendy...  If you talk..."

Wendy got up.  "And now it's time."

Poppin stood with her.  "It doesn't have to be."

"But this is how it happened."

They walked, assuming the posture of happier conversations.  But Poppin continued.  "Do you ever remember what we were talking about?"

Wendy spun, holding her hands out for any remaining drops of rain.  "No!  I don't remember the last things you said.  I'm forgetting!  I'm sorry!"

Poppin walked onto the road with more difficulty.  "Don't be sorry.  I still love you all.  And I love you."

The cadillac fell out of the sky, onto Poppin's spot.  Wendy screamed, and ran to her, trying to glimpse her under the wreck.  From out of the shadow, Poppin's voice emerged.  "Next time, dear.  Next time..."


Inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Erasing Fears with Sleep"

DAY 59: Getting Stuff from the Neighbors

Jerry was knocking rapidly on the door of room 1513.  "Levon! Are you in there?"
Mrs Kwan opened up the door.  "He's not here, Jerry.  He went upstairs to fix something."
"Yeah, with my socket wrench!"
"He went upstairs. He borrowed my shower curtain to fix something. "
"Do you know where he went?"
"Upstairs. He borrowed my shower curtain. I want it back."  Mrs Kwan closed the door.

Jerry made it to the roof.  Besides retrieving his socket wrench, he had been requested to retrieve three shower curtains, a set of dishwasher racks, two window screens, a jar of petroleum jelly, and a bicycle. "Levon! Where are you?"
He looked skyward to the sound of squeaking overhead, emanating from an expansive, rotating junkyard in the sky.  At its center, Landlord Levon pedaled in place, serenely watching the sun hidden beneath the skyline. As the craft rose, a fragment fell at Jerry's feet... a 12-point Mikita socket wrench.

Jerry watched the unidentifiable flying object float off... and all he could say was, "What about the 3/8 hex socket?"


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "A Leg Up on Human-Powered Flight"

DAY 30: Caught in the Light

August Rathbone loved June Millner as soon as he heard her name; the sight of her sealed the deal. Lucky for him, she felt the same.
For six years, they had been in love.  She didn't make it easy for him; jewelry, flowers, and chocolates were placeholders for true expressions of affection, in her opinion.  Each year, August found himself on the hunt for a precise present, something that could only be hers, never regifted or slighted.
This year's prize was to be a special pair of sunglasses: John Lennon frames, olive green lenses - the color was a common motif in June's wardrobe, so it was a safe enough bet.  When he presented them to her at their apartment, she rewarded his diligence very sweetly and very thoroughly.

One Saturday, they reached her least favorite part of a Saturday afternoon: the twenty-minute interval where the sun is low enough to pierce directly into their living room, until the orb sinks below the urban horizon.  On this particular Saturday, she decided to look at the world through peridot-colored glasses, and slipped them on.  June froze where she stood, until the sun dipped behind the skyscrapers.
That night, she didn't speak, and certainly not about what she saw.  Whenever August tried to get a word out of her, she just babblingly giggled until she embraced him into silence.
The next morning, she was relatively composed.  And when August asked about the prior day, she shrugged and said, "I don't know."  And her Sunday was like any other, until that moment of the afternoon where she returned again to the window- this time, pressing up against it, scanning as much of the city as she could, until the light faded.

On Monday, she made arrangements at work to move her lunch hour, so she could return home at the moment of alignment.  On Tuesday, she brought home a farmer's almanac, and sketchpads.
On Thursday, it rained, and rained.  By Friday, the clouds persisted, and June was getting anxious.  When August went to bed that night, he left her at the couch to flip between weather reports among the stations.

On Saturday, they were both home from work.  The rain had returned, decreeing a day in.  August was satisfied with a day in pajamas; June was inconsolable.  After some prodding, she produced her sketchbooks and offered her confession.  "I've been selfish.  If I've been reading the almanac right, today will be my last chance for the season, and then it'll just be stupid sunlight again."
August looked up from a sketch with disbelief.  "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"If I told you, I'd have to show you... but I didn't want to give up a second of it.  I'm sorry."
There was a break in the clouds;  June jumped out of her chair, and urged him to follow.  August was three steps behind, papers in hand, when he stepped into the piercing sunlight.  He covered his eyebrows, to give his eyes shade.  He didn't see the carriages and zeppelins that June had drawn on her landscapes.  August looked at June, waiting for her explanation.  She smirked and passed him the glasses.


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Trapping the Light Fantastic"