# The Sloth Stirs The Soup



## NeoCaesar (May 25, 2011)

Every morning people read the paper or watch the news to reassure themselves that the world is still as they left it the night before. Ian Mune doesn’t, he very rarely sees morning time and when he does he looks to the elaborate ways he uses to avoid reality over any means of reporting it. To say Ian was a fantasist would be an understatement. He lived as an outsider: online, inside, in the gutter, in the dark, deep in the cracks that had begun to appear on the fringes of 21st century living. On the day Ian’s actions begin to interest us he is stirring from a 18 hour catatonic slumber induced by a marathon video-gaming session.
Ian groaned and pulls himself from the comfort his couch was so generous to offer him. His mouth was so dry he guessed it had been open the entire time he slept. He shuddered as he thought of spiders using his mouth as their personal playground. Ian’s home was the type of place that encouraged animals to find it as welcoming as he did, if not more. Walking to the kitchen Ian scratched at the welting red wound on his neck. It had been bothering him for a few days. He smelt his fingers and recoiled a little; they smelt pungent and were iced with a slightly sticky muck. Anyone else would be thinking about visiting a doctor at this point but not Ian, neither did Ian have a doctor or the motivation to visit one if he did. 
Turning the tap in the kitchen only resulted in it juddering and spitting out a few bursts of discoloured water. ‘Urgh! Good morning, have a pleasant day!’ Ian looked up. ‘You always start my days so nicely…’ Ian thought he had no god and that he conversed with an imagined god. This was not actually true, Ian not only believed in god but blamed him for everything wrong with his life. He coughed a dry rasping wheeze of a cough and turned to survey his kitchen for some liquid to soothe the burning. Out of date milk, a mop bucket full of three week old water and a half full can of lager which was 50% cigarette butts was all that his kitchen had to offer. This was a worst case scenario; Ian was going to have to go outside. Ian only ventured outside to get drugs as everything else was pretty low down on his priorities but his throat was burning with an itch he had never experienced before.
*12 hours previous, across the city*

Diane Seece was a capable woman, a responsible woman, and a woman that was used to achieving what she set out to do. That is why she was struggling with the current situation so much. All she wanted to do was get her and her family out of town and to safety. Unfortunately 100,000 other people all had the same idea. She brushed a strand of sweat soaked hair from her face and tuned the car radio into another station. 
‘…approximately a kilometre and positioned directly above the seats of government, now reported in twenty countries across the world. The only contact reported is a radio signal telling us not to resist and that we were being taken to our final resting place. The signal which is on repeat then lists the name for the afterlife in all the world’s major religions; both current and ancient. I don’t know what to say to people out there other than please try to limit panic at the moment…’
Diane switched the radio off and looked into the back of her car to see her two children’s worried faces. ‘It’s just a story babies, like Harry Potter.’ She was struggling to remain calm so she knew they could sense something was wrong and that’s without them looking outside. The atmosphere crackled with the intent of mass exodus which stifled the air with the static of a terrible panic. The roads were completely blocked and those that were not leaving the city had begun looting already. It was only a matter of time before they gave up stealing televisions and started looking for a way out of the city. Diane shuddered and reached over to lock the car doors.
*Back with the incubator*

Ian hugged himself against the chill he was feeling, odd he thought looking at the sky that did not betray any signs of a cold day. His neighbourhood seemed very quiet and he could not shake the strangest feeling that not all was well. He was definitely feeling a lot more than the usual hangover. He made a mental note to get medicine he then replaced that note with one that called for drugs. Yes, something mild to take the edge off his discomfort was all he needed. As he came into sight of the shop he caught sight of someone running away with bags full of drink; bottles clinking as they ran. He stared after them with a puzzled look before laughing and entering the shop, it was empty. The shop looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. It definitely been robbed but oddly of food and water, alcohol and cigarettes were all that remained. ‘Hello?’
The next figure to leave the shop clicking was Ian, he had a skip in his step and his fortune had made him forget his slowly worsening ailments. He tried to phone some of the numbers from his phone that usually resulted in parties but couldn’t get any signal. Oh well, he thought, all the more for me. He remembered his body’s cry for narcotic relief and shrugged as he looked at the spoils of his trip. He collapsed with relief and cracked open a beer on his coffee table, the edges scarred deep from performing the task thousands of times, before sitting back and getting comfortable for the long haul. The welt on his neck was an angry red which shined with vigour and oozed with intent. He scratched at it as he settled into his latest game.
*Diane has killed someone*

Diane slumped back against the office wall across from the lifeless man she had stabbed, wondering what he had wanted from her. His eyes were still full of the menace he had worn as he scrabbled at the blade sticking from his chest, now frozen in a parody of anger. She had been frightened he would pull the knife free at come at her while she had no defence but she had hit the mark, the knife skewered his heart. Her face trembled as tears began to pool in her eyes. She fought them back and managed a laugh. She was a human rights lawyer and now she was a murderer. It was self-defence she reminded herself as she smoothed her clothes down. 
Looking out to the garage forecourt she checked her children were still in the car. It was no use; they would go no further by car although she had done well to get them as far as she had. They were near the mountains and they would continue deeper into the region on foot. Diane had not prepared to trek but she had no other option. Her only plan before was to get away from the city but now she felt even greater pressure to hide. The radio had reported incidences of people disappearing into thin air. This had begun in London and was working its way north. People were being either being destroyed or being beamed aboard the ships as the communication had warned. Diane’s hope was the mountains would offer cover to her. She took everything she imagined would serve a purpose from what was left in the ransacked garage and placed it in her small rucksack cursing herself for being so ill-prepared but how could she have known? 
Walking into the forecourt she smiled at her kids, they smiled back. She waved some chocolate bars she had picked up hoping to lift their spirits and their faces lit up a little. As she got closer she heard a humming in the air and shielded her eyes against an increased intensity of light. The inside of the car glowed blue and she started to run. ‘No, no, no…’ With a loud crack she was thrown backwards. Looking up everything had returned to normal except her car was empty. Diane looked up and felt the air around her change, her body went numb and she felt unable to move. The humming grew louder until it was painful then suddenly all was quiet and dark.
*A fever for breakfast*

Ian staggered to the toilet to be met with a toilet blocked from an evening’s excess. His stomach heaved as he noticed not all his mess was contained in the toilet. He felt feverish and weak, regretting trying to paint over his ills with alcohol. He vomited into the sink before drying his sweat with a towel. Looking in the mirror he strained to focus as dizziness grasped at him, he looked terrible. Staggering back he threw himself down on his couch and switched the television on, he had no strength for anything else and just planned to vegetate. The tv blinked to life and lit the room with the blue screen that declared there was no signal. Ian groaned and flicked through the channels to be met with the same on every channel. He switched it off and reached for his ipod dock switching the radio on and settling back.
‘…is a recorded message from your prime minister. The aliens have begun to remove our population. All our weapons are useless and there seems to be no escaping the kidnap. I urge you all to stay strong against this aggressor. Whether this is the end I cannot say but I do know our resilience is great. This is a recorded message…’
Ian’s vision swam before his eyes and his head throbbed. He switched on the tv and threw the remote when the screen came up blue. He dialled his parent’s house and got no response. Getting up he staggered across the room and pulled back the heavy curtains shielding his eyes from the light that dashed into the room. The street was deserted. Halfway down the street there was a car parked in the middle of the street with the door open, abandoned. He was feeling nauseous and the light felt as if it was stabbing at his eyes. Stumbling backwards he fell onto the couch. ‘What the fuck?’ he mumbled as blackness swarmed around him and robbed him of his consciousness. A low humming began quietly and the room was filled with a blue light.


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## NeoCaesar (May 25, 2011)

Basically this is a short story I was writing and was looking for feedback. Be brutal. I am struggling to tie it up in a punchy manner which is what I'm aiming for. I was thinking of going two ways: either the aliens really are taking us to a better place and Ian infects them with an illness thereby sealing humankinds fate or they wish to do us harm in which case he is the saviour.


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## Woodroam (May 26, 2011)

Love the title. It drew me here. This is an unfinished short story? I liked the first two sections but think also that you could begin with Diane has killed someone.  I'll be looking for the rest of this.


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## Misa Buckley (May 26, 2011)

NeoCaesar said:


> Basically this is a short story I was writing and was looking for feedback. Be brutal. I am struggling to tie it up in a punchy manner which is what I'm aiming for. I was thinking of going two ways: either the aliens really are taking us to a better place and Ian infects them with an illness thereby sealing humankinds fate or they wish to do us harm in which case he is the saviour.



Personally, I'd go with the former because it's edgier.

You have a change in tense, which threw me, and there's more tell than I like, but it's an interesting piece. I assume that Ian and Diane's paths will cross at some point, possibly on the alien craft. I'd like to see that meeting, and where this is going.


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## NeoCaesar (May 26, 2011)

Woodroam said:


> Love the title. It drew me here. This is an unfinished short story? I liked the first two sections but think also that you could begin with Diane has killed someone. I'll be looking for the rest of this.


 
Yeah, I don't want it too be too long, another 1000 words perhaps. I presume you disliked the later sections? It is always a problem for me -I start out strong then lose steam.



Misa Buckley said:


> You have a change in tense, which threw me, and there's more tell than I like, but it's an interesting piece. I assume that Ian and Diane's paths will cross at some point, possibly on the alien craft. I'd like to see that meeting, and where this is going.


 
I intended it to be punchier but got carried away so it is likely to end up 3k words when it should really be half of that. I will probably edit the brains out of it. I feel placing any significance on a meeting will flesh it out even more although the structure of it leads this way. Maybe it will leave the reader wanting?


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## NeoCaesar (May 26, 2011)

Could you steer me in the direction of the change in tense please? I cannot find it.


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## geewizz (May 28, 2011)

NeoCaesar said:


> Every morning people read the paper or watch the news to reassure themselves that the world is still as they left it the night before.


 

Stop!  The best news is the kind  that shocks us, besides, many people, like myself don't even read the paper or only watch the news if something is shocking; or in other words, not the way i left it.  I understand that you want to set mood here, but maybe there is another way.  Give the hook more meaning.  It loses me here.


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## Rustgold (May 28, 2011)

geewizz said:


> Stop!  The best news is the kind  that shocks us, besides, many people, like myself don't even read the paper or only watch the news if something is shocking; or in other words, not the way i left it.  I understand that you want to set mood here, but maybe there is another way.  Give the hook more meaning.  It loses me here.[/SIZE][/FONT]



I don't read the newspaper either, but it doesn't make it invalid.


> Every morning people read the paper or watch the news to reassure themselves that the world is still as they left it the night before. Ian Mune doesn’t


That's telling a fair bit.  Either Ian's going to be someone who doesn't care, or somebody who has a different life experience to the rest of the world.  I don't see anything fatal in that.



> Ian *groaned* and *pulls* himself from the comfort his couch was so generous to offer him.


Change of tense question.  I'm sure that there'll be better examples in there.


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## geewizz (May 28, 2011)

Rustgold said:


> I don't read the newspaper either, but it doesn't make it invalid.


 
i'm sorry,  i think you are wrong. the thing that makes it invalid is not that everyone is not reading the newspaper, it is the logic of the argument.  please read carefully before you critique a critique.


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## Frivle Dilby (May 29, 2011)

The great thing about writing is that you can do whatever you want. If you want you two characters to see each other across an alien lab and just think, 'What a weirdo,' then that is all the connection they need. Or none at all, it's your story. Where it says, "The street was deserted. Halfway down the street there was a car parked in the middle of the street..." I understand that there is a street, maybe a bit more description would help. Like, Halfway to the roundabout that marked the edge of his visible world a car sat askew and oddly pristine. The doors were open and... Anywho, like I said before, it's your story, have fun with it. I look forward to the rest of it.


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## Rustgold (May 29, 2011)

geewizz said:


> i'm sorry,  i think you are wrong. the thing that makes it invalid is not that everyone is not reading the newspaper, it is the logic of the argument.  please read carefully before you critique a critique.


 
The point would be valid if the opening line was 'Every morning everybody reads the paper'.


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## geewizz (May 29, 2011)

Rustgold said:


> The point would be valid if the opening line was 'Every morning everybody reads the paper'.


 poppycock!

Every morning people read the paper  or watch the news to reassure themselves that the world is still as they  left it the night before. This is the problem with the line.  I don't think anyone considers reading or hearing news confirmation that the world is the way they left it.  News is only interesting because it is about how the world was not how we left it!!!  Think before you critique.  I told you this before.


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## Frivle Dilby (May 30, 2011)

This is getting pretty heated. Especially since this is a debate on the opinion/habits of the majority. I personally think you are both right. People watch the news to find an interesting turn of events far away from where they live, thus making the news both entertaining and reassuring. Or for the weather. Everyone watches the weather. =)


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## Woodroam (May 30, 2011)

I keep coming back to read this. I really like the style. It is as you say 'punchy'. The free indirect discourse give the intimacy of first person narration while remaining in the third person. This is a good choice for this piece. It will be tricky if you bring the two protagonists together in the alien ship. Will this story continue?


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## Rustgold (May 30, 2011)

Frivle Dilby said:


> This is getting pretty heated.


Only heated by one party.  I have better things to do.



Woodroam said:


> Will this story continue?


It'll be interesting to see how it reads once he's gotten a bit more into the story.


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