easytopia!

This story was not a stream of consciousness thing like most of easytopia! really. I got the idea from a podcast I was listening to where a guy and his sisters don’t know where their Dad’s ashes are. RIP to that guy and God bless his kids.----Beth, the oldest, and Bri, the youngest, traveled some distance for their dad’s funeral and memorial service. They stayed with their brother Ben, and the three of them had plenty to attend to at their childhood home. There was a lot to decide. In the kitchen, Beth puts on a pot of coffee for later. Bri fills three water glasses.They convene in the living room at their old house, at the coffee table, trying to relax after a long day of representing their father. There were a couple of hours of daylight left. Beth and Bri cuddled up on the couch while Ben pulled his dad’s favorite La-Z-Boy over to the coffee table.“I think I get this chair, you guys.” Ben said.“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that chair so far away from the TV.” Bri replies.Before sitting down, Ben lifts the lid of a nicely crafted wooden box and removes the brass urn that holds the remains of their father, Howard. He very gently places it on the table. He sits down, leans back, and levers the footrest into position. The three of them look at the urn and share glances and smiles with each other.“We’re orphans.” Beth says.Ben replies, “I heard that so many times today.”“Everyone is being so nice.” Beth continues. “I think it’s easy to tell who really means it.”“Oh my god.” Bri says, “How saccharine was Mrs. Stolyniska? “She and Dad hated each other.”“There were so many nice people too, though. We have enough food for two weeks, and I’m sure it will keep coming as long as we’re here.” Ben replies. “I really have my mind on that apple pie the Raniers brought over.”“Oh s**t, we have so much to do. Do we have to talk about it already?” Beth asks.“Let’s just settle into it.” Says Ben.“I’m going to miss the phone calls so much.” Says Bri. “Sometimes it was amazing how he would just happen to call me at the perfect time to save me from some annoying situation, and it would make my whole day.”“It makes me feel terrible for the times I ignored his calls.” Beth replies. “We’re so lucky. I can’t imagine what our life would be like if Dad sucked.” She says.“You’re such a good son, Ben, staying around town when you could have gone anywhere.” Bri says. “Everyone knows that about you.”“It pulled Dawn.” Beth says.Ben replies. “She’s hanging with her mom for a couple of days. You have me to yourselves.”“Love Dawn.” Bri says.“Remember when Mom died and Dad had to take over and do all the stuff himself?” Beth asks.“He really did come through for us.” Ben says. “He kept us so busy. I don’t know how he had time to perform at work.”Beth points toward the fireplace, at a small figurine of an angel on the mantle.“Hucklebuckle Beanstalk!” Beth proclaims.“The little angel!” Bri exclaims.“Dad and I were talking some time ago; that’s how he would tire us out for bedtime.” Ben explains. “He said that was the only way he’d be able to get to sleep himself, because he wouldn’t sleep until we were all asleep.”They are referring to the game called Hucklebuckle Beanstalk, where one person hides an item, and the other players are tasked with locating it. When it is found, by each person, they yell “Hucklebuckle Beanstalk,” confirm the location quietly to the hider of the object, and the last person to find it forfeits the game.“I would always run outside!” Bri says, laughing. “I’d come back in the house, and Dad would be laughing so hard because as soon as he’d announced we were playing, I’d bolt straight for the patio door and run into the yard, and start looking out there.”“Why do you think you did that?” Beth asks. “He never hid her out there.”“I think it was about the looking and not so much the finding.” Said Bri.The two sisters hug each other. Ben grins widely and reminds them that he was usually the one that found her first. He then focuses his attention on the door of the kitchen.“There’s an apple streusel pie and some heavy whipped cream in that kitchen, and it has our name on it.” Ben says.“And coffee.” Says Beth.“Be right back, Dad.” Bri says, kissing the urn that holds her dad’s ashes.Simultaneously, the three of them move to the kitchen.There’s a cornucopia of food spread over the kitchen counter against the wall.“There you are.” Ben says, lifting a handsome pie from the counter and removing the cover of waxed paper. “It’s still barely warm, too.”They each get their plates and forks, help themselves to big pieces of pie with cream, and they get their coffees, too. They return to their places at the coffee table.As they are eating, Ben says. “I really should just go get the rest of the pie and cream.”They all smile while gorging themselves. Suddenly Beth notices that the urn is not on the table. “Did you put Dad’s urn away, Ben?”“No, it’s right th…” Ben stops when he realizes it’s not there. “I didn’t move it, did you, Bri?” She shakes her head. “We’ve been together the whole time.” She says.Ben sees the wooden box is empty. As they look around the room, confused, Beth sees the angel on the mantle.921 WordsI have some designs available and there are always specials and deals and you never have to pay the list price → ta!A lot of new discussions on The Arc of The Bard to check out.the third flash august fiction is coming in… august. 31 brand new stories. written and podcasted in 31 days. try to keep up. or simply subscribe. just don’t be jealous. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

This was the first Wednesday Evening version of The Arc of The Bard. The Arc of The Bard happens Wednesday and Sunday. KaylaVerse recently released Telensia, City of AI. We spoke about the origin of stories, supporting creative development during youth, and maintaining family and community in times of challenge. She is gracious enough to let us hear her music during this conversation!The first episode of her web series is available now. ^Storytelling takes so many forms, and Kayla uses all of them. She produces, and performs all the things she writes. We had a very fruitful discussion about the importance of organizations that encourage creativity in young people. She explained an NAACP program called ACT-SO. What a fantastic emphasis. Do you know that what is commonly known as STEM, Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math, is missing a letter? The letter is ‘A.’. I’ll bet you can guess what the ‘A’ in STEAM stands for.Find all of Kayla’s music links here ←There’s no way the write up can do justice to this conversation. You’re going to have to absorb this one on your own, for sure. Kayla read some excerpts from her web series, and laid down a good synopsis. She was generous with all that, and some music also. That’s quite a bonus. Did you know there is a genre called Solar Punk?The talent I get to interact with on these podcasts is mind-blowing. This episode more than reflects it. * Visit the new easytopia! Merch Store with a few designs and a bunch of different products.* Use this link to get great tech at reduced prices, with warranties. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Support by getting this little bookThe Meadow, the Hill, and the SeaThere was a meadow, which one day would become the site for a house and its family, but the concern now is the meadow. One side of the meadow had a healthy stream running by. It bordered a great forest. There was a hill on another side; it protected the meadow from the Sea on the other side of it.The Boisterous TriumvirateThe meadow had three young trees, an Oak tree, an Elm tree and a Locust tree. They stood like three friends talking all the time… and they were. They formed a boisterous triumvirate. They shared stories of the life they lived and knew in the meadow. Through many sun filled, and many rain filled moments they persevered. Unprotected from the elements like the other trees across the river, whose spans protected one another, they were not as tall, but they were stronger and wiser for it in their own ways. At the base of the hill stood the Oak, the Elm was in the middle and as one might expect, the Locust stood on the bank of the healthy stream.Ominous Ominous!There came a particular happening that they, and everyone around them, heard a rustling, stomping, and a wild yowl the likes of which they never heard. But it sounded like a noise they had heard about, for they had heard about a legendary creature… a creature of legend, the Legend of Thusaitha. Thusaitha, thought to be a myth by some, was a creature everyone had heard about, everyone told stories about, and everyone could definitely do without, be it real or mythological.Madness Madness!On this particular occasion, Thusaitha was mad. Thusaitha was always, always… mad. You see, Thusaitha, having essence, indeed existing, had an outlook, he had a take on things, as it were. His take was that everything, but everything in existence, everything, everything in the whole Universe, everything known and everything unknown, everything possible, and anything that might be imagined to possibly exist… existed for one reason, for the sole and incendiary purpose of making him unhappy. This is what he knew. It was what was known to him; his perspective, his subjective analysis… it was his ’world-view’. Thusaitha stood on the bank of the other side of the stream, opposite the three friends. Startlingly, and very loudly, loudly enough that everyone in the general vicinity could hear, with no warning, he roared:“I DON’T LIKE THE RESPONSE I’M GETTING FROM YOU THREE TREES!”The triumvirate was perplexed, that had no idea that there was a response requirement, or a non-response that was or was not expected to be appropriate toward Thusaitha.Even more surprisingly, and with less warning the Locust tree reasoned humbly: “We’re just standing here, what else would you expect us to do? We’re trees.”Poor Oak TreeEveryone cringed, because everyone knew, it’s really not best to create any more to serve the sole purpose of making Thusaitha even more unhappy. Because everyone knew that everything existed, and every possibility, every imagination served the sole purpose of making Thusaitha unhappy. It was his ‘world-view’. It’s what was known to him, so one would not take the chance of creating any new possibility by talking, or doing anything else at all for that matter… at least until he went away, and took his ‘world-view’ with him. Thusaitha looked the Locust tree up and down:‘I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOUR FRIENDS!’ reeled Thusaitha, Then he jumped across the stream and bound up into the Oak tree and began snapping limbs and tearing at the leaves like something wild and MAD. This did not please Thusaitha because nothing pleased Thusaitha, but he did deem the Oak tree wise.“You are wise Oak tree, you know better than to fight me, it’s not going to make me happy, but I’m going to let you live, BUT I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOUR FRIENDS!”Poor Elm TreeThusaitha lit onto the Elm tree and began stripping it’s bark and snapping the branches. The Elm tree never fought back, he allowed his bark to slide off easily. Again, it was no pleasure to Thusaitha that things were going so smoothly for him, because he never took any pleasure, but he did deem the Elm tree wise. “It is wise of you Elm tree, to not fight me, I am going to let you live, even though it makes me so unhappy. “BUT NOW... I WILL DESTROY THE LOCUST!”Precocious LocustRunning up to the Locust tree, Thusaitha grabbed a branch and flung himself into the heart of the tree. The branches were not snapping and the bark was very tough, the harder Thusaitha tried to hurt the tree the more frustrated he became. Warning the Locust tree, Thusaitha screamed: “DON’T FIGHT ME LOCUST TREE, YOUR REGRET WILL BE WORSE THAN MINE.” The Locust tree just could not be phased by Thusaitha, who was being treated as though he was just another summer breeze gracing the lofts of the Locust tree. The locust branches are by their nature very flexible, they do not snap, the bark is hewn close to the meat of the tree, it does not slide off easily.The Foreboding SilenceSuddenly, Thusaitha grew extremely silent. This was very disconcerting to everyone.Thusaitha jumped down from the Locust tree and faced it, furrowing his brow. He latched onto the Locust tree, and with mendacious force he tore the tree out of the ground by the roots. He held the Locust above his head; he turned and faced the hill. Then Thusaitha threw that Locust tree over the hill and into the Sea. The splash was heard throughout all the outlying areas of that particular location. It is thought by most, that Thusaitha was the very closest he could have ever gotten to having the slightest inclination toward moving to any degree of satisfaction. Unfortunately, as we all know by now, that is not a part of Thusaitha’s experience.The FuryLooking at the crater, where the ball of the Locust tree root system once set, Thusaitha surveyed the ground around it. He saw the root paths of overturned soil in all directions. He realized something at that moment as he saw a surviving, root dangling out of the bank on the other side of the healthy stream. He deduced that the tree had grown roots under the stream and it intermingled with its own, the roots of the trees on the other side of the stream. The handsome little root was dangling itself ever so gracefully into the stream, taking in the nutrients and feeding the other trees through a deeper matrix of roots on the other side of the healthy stream. In spite of the Locust being removed from the Meadow, his influence and significance was still impacting the meadow positively. Thusaitha did not win. Thusaitha leapt across the stream and with a mad yowling, stomping and rustling, in the most deep and sincerely heinous, inherent unhappiness… Thusaitha, without any other kind of explanation, since the science of it could not be described... simply imploded. There was a loud “thwack!” and a burst of sick, green light, like lightning. There was a certain odor in the air. That was the end of Thusaitha. There was the concussion and a cloud and the miserableness of Thusaitha was momentarily felt from that point in all directions. It is recorded by some that this event was the actual origin of sadness.The Time of SadnessThe two remaining friends had a lot to deal with right now. They were devastated; they had lost their dear, lifelong friend, the Locust tree. They had to get on with life, and help one another through this difficult time. In fact, everyone near the meadow who knew the three, and who lived there, all the animals and the other trees, were all very sad, and the loss was felt by all of them.MemoriesExistence continued, and suns came and went, and moons too. The Oak tree and the Elm tree were now a duo, inseparable as usual and of course they missed their friend dearly and thought of him often. There were changing Seasons. They told the wild stories of their lives with the Locust tree there in the meadow, all the pranks and merrymaking, and the sharing of hardships too. These two had grown older, and taller, and the Oak tree could just about see over the top of that hill, the one that protected them from the Sea. And then one day he finally could.Utter JoyThe Oak Tree saw something, something odd and curious. He saw the Sea on the other side of the hill, the Sea they had all heard about, the Sea that they all heard when the Locust tree splashed into it so long ago. The Oak tree saw the Sea for the first time and related what he saw to the Elm tree. But there was something else. He saw what looked like the leaves of a tree, waving and gently riding the tides of the Sea. Could it be? Well, being land-locked... and... Being a tree, there was no experience, to serve with reason to think other than that he saw his old friend the Locust tree waving to him from just under the surface of the water. He surmised and explained to his dear friend the Elm tree that the Locust must have discovered a method to survive, his roots were growing into the bottom of the Sea and his branches were reaching toward the Sun. The Elm tree and the Oak tree wept and laughed for joy! The Elm tree would have to be content to wait till he grew tall enough to see his old friend, and he did. Together the two of them would peer over the hill and wave to their friend in the Sea. Occasionally, they would notice creatures that were strikingly similar in appearance to Thusaitha, though they did not appear to be out of their minds. They would see these creatures floating into the Sea and gather up their friend’s leaves and hang them up to dry in the sun. They heard tell that whoever ate the leaves would become deeply nourished, more resilient, and would perhaps enjoy a long-life. This came as no surprise to the Oak and the Elm. For they had known their dear friend the Locust through much existence, and they agreed, if anyone could adapt to the situation he found himself in, it was the Locust, whom they deeply respected. And they learned that even as evilness seeks to tear us from our joys and loves, this only serves to push us closer to our greater purposes. Poor Thusaitha.The End.1800 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

For easytopia! Subscribers on apps outside of Substack, please enjoy this episode of The Arc of The Bard. There are 7 more right behind it. You should subscribe. I have great discussions with other writers about the things that writers talk about. I try to determine their strengths, and then learn from them. Stories and excerpts are also read. It’s a good time.Some corresponding links: SPOTIFY — APPLE PODCASTS — SUBSTACK.If artificial intelligence were sentient, it would be jealous of you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Objective Vantage Astronomical Laboratory Systems: Origin Planet Report #132(Pilots are anthropomorphized to benefit listeners and readers)Four OVALS, Hao, Madrigal, Corcoran and Initiate Peters, hover in low Earth orbit. Peters is participating for the first time in an observation of consequential Earth activity. Therefore, for the first time, he is feeling the angst of helplessness in a situation where he is constrained, not only by policy, but by the nature of space-time itself, to affect.The Ovals already know how this ends. They learn the fate of their origin planet as children. They watch the historical accounts of all the epoch cycles, and have seen the record of the events currently unfolding before them, as well.These Ovals are in this calendar location in order to gather some tailing material from a space rock traveling through their origin solar system. Initiate Peters is on a fast track to be a Mission Leader. The Project Team decided to place him in this calendar location for dual-purpose training.“It’s gut-wrenching.” Says initiate Peters.“The humans who know are suppressed.” Hao replies.“It’s so dumb, they sell their planet off to those lizards, but the whole thing is going to be wiped out by meteors again, in what might as well be five-minutes anyway.” Peters adds.“All out of spite.” Madrigal responds. “They’re mad that they can’t win, so they do the ‘it’s better to rule in hell’ thing.” She says.The four of them watch something happening in this location that they have seen records of many times. They know exactly how it proceeds. Even if physics allowed them to intercede, nothing would be affected. Time is what it is, it’s not something else.Suddenly, they see an Oval diving around and confusing the Earth population during this disturbing time of what has been termed The Inbred Abhorrence, in their Calendrical classes.“I wasn’t made aware that there’d be an Oval operating in proximity to that location.” Initiate Peters says. “Wait…. Is that? No way, is he real?”“Fsake Madsen.” Madrigal says.“I guess you are getting three lessons today, Peters.” Hao says. “He is a broken rule, and he’s testing all the laws.”“Do I hate loving him, or do I love hating him?” Madrigal asks.“… all the laws.” Hao repeats.Corcoran chimes in. “There are some interesting humans, though. They are worth looking at, the species really did have a lot of promise. It would have been interesting to see what they could have done.”Hao concurs. “They exhausted their tries.”423 Words.* Below are good for OVALS background. Search my substack for OVALS for more.https://commercialherschel.substack.com/p/death-fiction-species-created-ovalshttps://commercialherschel.substack.com/p/ovals-e-36-ovals-linear-time-re-entryhttps://commercialherschel.substack.com/p/ovals-where-is-madsen-antogonist-conflicthttps://commercialherschel.substack.com/p/ovals-project-watchtower-leopard-5* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items | Refurbished, open box, etc.* Read and share my GiveSendGo for a good description of The Arc of The BardI hope you enjoyed Flash Fiction February, ‘26, and this finale. A New Arc of The Bard happens Monday AM, or Sunday evening if you’re eager.PLEASE SHARE This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items | Refurbished, open box, etc.* Read and share my GiveSendGo for a good description of The Arc of The BardIt’s more quiet this morning than usual. It’s the time of year when the windows begin stay open overnight. Usually, at sunrise, there are birds making a lot more music than today. The bats are leaving the evening domain, and retiring to their roosts, wherever they are. Deer are quietly and gingerly rising from their matted grass and moving along.All of these things are happening, but for whatever reason, it seems more thin. Even less audible than usual. The dawn needs more time to stretch, it wants to take a cautious look around before commencing with fullness.The warbler sets in the towering Cypress. Typically, he’s vocal, enthusiastically so. Today, however, he perches, head cocked, observing me with one eye, as though expecting a report. “Hello.” I say. Pensively, not presumptuous, at all.“Look.” I tell him. “I know I’m a two-legged, but I didn’t do all this. They don’t exactly let guys like me make policy.” I say. “Trust me, things would be a lot different.” He doesn’t believe me. I can tell. He finally exclaims something personal toward the sunrise, and goes for a flit around the yard.The sunlight is a slow tide. The field is washed of the neutral morning twilight. Gold shimmers on evergreen needles. It splashes between waving treetops.A loud billow of warplanes sweeps across the morning sky.226 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

A. They are going to do that, because that’s what they do.Q. But do they have to do that, can they change?A. They do the things they do because that is who they are. People are not other people than who they are, they are who they are, they are not somebody else.Q. Can you tell them, and then they can do something else?A. People do the things they do, they do not do the things they don’t do.Q. But why do they do the things they always do, when the things they do keep them doing the things they do, and it’s always the same?A. They do the things they do because that is who they are. People are not other people than who they are, they are who they are, they are not somebody else.Q. How do you know which people are going to do the other things?A. They are going to do that, because that’s what they do.Q. Why do they let themselves be taken advantage of by the people who benefit from it, at their expense?A. The people who benefit from it know that people are going to do that, because that’s what they do.Q. Why do the people keep perpetuating this cycle over and over again?A. They do the things they do because that is who they are. People are not other people than who they are, they are who they are, they are not somebody else.Q. Why do some people not participate in this behavior?A. Because they have thoughts.Q. What do the people who perpetuate these cycles have?A. They have reactions.Q. Why are they reacting and not thinking?A. They do the things they do because that is who they are. People are not other people than who they are, they are who they are, they are not somebody else.Q. Is there a way to get them to react to something else?Q. Hello? Hello?A. I’m thinking.343 Words.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items | Refurbished, open box, etc.* Read and share my GiveSendGo for a good description of The Arc of The Bard easytopians! share! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Here’s Part 1Terrence Foch leaves the gorgeous little American town. The situation at the campsite was too bad, but it afforded him the opportunity to enjoy a beautiful place with nice people for a day. He’s taking the advice of the deputy, and he’ll take the alternate route to his new location.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items | Refurbished, open box, etc.* Read and share my GiveSendGo for a good description of The Arc of The Bard.It’s just as the deputy explained. There’s a row of estates along one side of the road, and a ravine on the other. He rides along a ridge, and he doesn’t see a car for a couple of hours. His bike has a light in the front, as does his helmet. The back of his bike has one of those flashing red lights. It’s a great time, riding at night.As he heads out over a hill, what he sees is unexpected. The deputy must have steered him wrong, because laid out in front of him should not be such a large city. He doesn’t know where he is. Why is there such a large city out here? His map did not reflect this.It’s dark, he has no phone signal. He’ll go forward. He’ll figure it out when he gets there. He has a couple of days to get straightened out.As he rides the ridge, the road narrows radically. As he nears the town, he’s practically squeezing between a brick wall and a wooden fence. He comes to an alley, where going the way he came is the only way out. Unless he goes into the building. That’s what he does. Goes into the building. He’s riding through the hallway of a sparsely occupied building. There are glimpses of people, and peripheral evidences of activity.He winds all through this building in the only ways that he can. There are no choices. It’s a long corridor. Not well-lit, the hallway has brown, mat carpeting, and the general ambiance of the place is clinical. It’s not residential.He finally spills out of the building and finds himself in a square, at an intersection. There are a couple of people with him, two women. One of whom he feels an immediate affinity for. The three of them are looking at a map.The map makes no sense. It’s not a place he recognizes, and it’s not where he needs to be, but he has to understand it in order to get to his intended destination. On the other hand, he really likes being near this woman who is also trying to navigate the strange map.Terrence feels good about this situation. He feels lucky to have gotten lost, he never would have encountered this woman. His mind and his heart are open to whatever is going to happen. He has something to figure out while he’s in the middle of this important re-location.463 Words.Here’s Part 1easytopians! shareflash fiction february: 3 days remain This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Terrence Foch decided at the last minute to take a bike trip. He had been scheduled to start a new job, but his assignment was delayed for a week and a half. “I’ll send my essentials ahead, and ride my bike.” He told everyone.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items | Refurbished, open box, etc.* Read and share my GiveSendGo for a good description of The Arc of The Bard.It wasn’t his first long ride. He’s done a few. This one would take about 5 days. He would time his arrival with the arrival of his things, then get everything moved in to his new location, and have a couple of days to rest before starting his new job.Mapping out all the county and state roads was easy. There weren’t any hilly, or difficult terrain. All the roads were paved. He even felt like some night riding would be safe, especially since he was so familiar with some parts of the route. He liked doing that.Things went as planned. He got out of town early in the AM on day one and easily made his goal. He spent the afternoon resting, and stretching. Checking his body for issues. He got a good night sleep, and started out early again.Something he liked to do on trips like this was to pack most of the food he would eat, and shed his dirty clothes rather than carry them. This way the load gets slightly lighter each day. He’d pack oat groats as his main source of fuel, since they don’t have to be cooked, in case there’s no fire. Then he’d stop at little stores and get bananas and beef jerky. That sort of disciplined, Spartan behavior suited him.On his fourth night of camping, he awakened, under the open morning sky, to see that, except for his bike, everything he had with him, which wasn’t much, had been stolen while he slept. He had his sleeping bag, an inflatable pillow, a t-shirt, gym shorts and his wallet, which of course, he kept with him in his sleeping bag. Fortunately, his phone was in the campsite office, charging overnight. Now, here he is out in the campsite, barefoot. The tiny town is close by, right across the river bridge from the campsite. It’s early, just after sunrise. He reports his predicament to the campsite attendants. They offer him a complimentary pair of inexpensive, rubber soled, stretchy slippers. He grabs his phone, and rides across the bridge, into the little town, and wait for the local department store to open.People are starting to drive by, and mill about. He keeps his eyeballs open for any signs of his clothing to show up, walking around. He figured it had to be someone really bad off, because it was not much, just some groats, instant coffee, some dry milk, a couple of protein bars. A pair of jeans, and one long, and one short sleeve golf shirt. This is all stuff he can replace in 20 minutes for less than a hundred bucks. He’s pretty lucky, really.When the store opens, he gets a set of athletic underwear, some firm soled training shoes, some thin sport pants that are designed to look like blue jeans and a UV visor biking cap. Taking a walk around inside, to see if he should get anything else, he decides against it. He’ll stay in this sweet little town today, and make the last 50-mile ride into his new location, at night.Leaving the store, he sees a local sheriff’s deputy. He informs him of his camping experience. The deputy says that there are a number of people in town they have to keep an eye on. They tend to do that. They prowl the campers and also the motel parking lots, preying on trusting visitors.“Where’s a good place to have breakfast?” Terrance asks the deputy, who will surely know who has the good coffee.“Right this way.” The deputy says. “It’s the end of my shift, please join me.”During their meal, the deputy tells him about a shorter route to his new town. “It’s a back road” he says, “Along a ridge. It’s pretty nice.”Terrence asks him, “How safe is it at night, how much traffic?”“I’m not sure I’d advise anyone to travel on a bike in the dark on any road, but out there, I doubt you’ll even see a car. It’s private estates on one side, and on the other, down the ravine, that’s National Forest.”“I have my phone, too.” Terrence says. “So that will give me some peace of mind.”“It depends on your carrier. There’s only one that gets a signal out there.” The deputy tells him, as they finish up at their table.For the rest of the day, Terrence relaxes, goes for a walk, and realizes, he doesn’t have much of a signal on his phone. He gets a motel room, has a good long swim, takes a nap and picks up a few items from the delightful little grocery store in town. He’s ready to leave town, and ride overnight to his new destination.837 Words.flash fiction february: four days remain easytopians! share. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“This is nice wine.” Jerry said to Judy, as they checked out the samples at a local winery.“It’s not like that other one, out by the river bend.” Judy said. “They set up wine for the locals when they have not the best batches, just to get rid of it.”* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGo“That’s not a terrible thing to do.” Jerry argues. “It’s probably a good time.”“I don’t know.” Judy says. “I heard it gives some people a sour stomach, and they aren’t exactly welcoming to the farm folk when the tourists are around.”“Well, this is nice wine.” Jerry repeats.“I agree.” Judy says.“Well, you could have said that the first time, now you have me thinking about the sour stomachs of farmers.” Jerry says, as Judy rolls her eyes.They each have a couple more of the little samples of different wines. It is a pretty, fresh day. Spring is coming, pretty darn soon. They enjoy the view of the vineyards, there are a couple of birds singing, and one of the kitchen guys is loading up the outdoor cook stove with wood.“Wow, we should stay for that.” Judy says.“I think it takes a while for it to get up to temperature, maybe we can come back for dinner.” Jerry says.“Let’s see if anyone else wants to join us.” Judy says.“We’ll end up paying.” Jerry says.“Don’t be such a cheapy.” She responds.“When was the last time we went out with friends and didn’t end up getting most of the bill?” He says.“That’s because we’re always the ones doing the inviting.” Judy says.“What does that tell you?” Jerry asks her.She answers. “That we’re nice?”“No one ever cares to ask us to dinner or lunch, and that doesn’t tell you anything?” He inquires.“Should it? What? What should it tell me?” She responds.“That maybe they just don’t like us very much.” He says.“Now, come on… that’s not what it means, it doesn’t mean anything.” She retorts.“Do you remember when I was at the butcher yesterday, getting our order, and I told you this new winery was open, and that it looked really nice, and that we should come?” She nods. He continues. “OK. Look over your right shoulder. Go ahead.” He instructs her, and she looks.“There it is. There’s the meat shop, there is the window. You have a nice view of this patio from that window. Guess who I saw here having so much fun yesterday?”“Who?” She asks.“Several of the people we bought meals for in the last year and a half, that’s who.”Judy is saddened. She has a despondent look.“You really like them, and you want to think the best. I get it”, Jerry says. “I’m sorry. I think we need to face it. When there’s no reciprocity and no genuineness, the best thing is to just move on from it and try to find better company.”Just then Judy gets a text. “It’s Sheila. She wants one of my recipes… the one for that French chicken souffle.”“Ask her what the occasion is, and if it’s not a family thing, but she doesn’t invite you, tell her you lost that recipe.” Jerry suggests.“You don’t have to tell me twice”, Judy says.553 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

It started a few days ago, on the return trip from a weekend out of town, in the countryside. Jake and his girlfriend Renee like to get away to the lake. It’s really fun. They have lovely friends out there, and they go whenever they can.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc. * Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast * Read and share my GiveSendGoOn the way back, Jake’s car started acting up a little. The electrical system was going a little wacky. It seemed like the solenoids were misfiring, intermittently, and electrical features inside the car were flickering, and turning on and off on their own.Jake and Renee were trying to comb through their experiences to see if they could pinpoint anything that could have induced this. The car is only a couple of years old and should not be having any troubles like this. Renee noted that often, electrical issues in vehicles can be from critters, getting in the engine compartment and chewing wires. They did a thorough investigation and the wiring was sound.Another consideration is moisture. If there’s a lot of rain, or merely heavily humid conditions. It can cause issues. Jake recalled the evening they were having a fire with neighbors on Saturday night. It was very foggy. So much so, in fact, that it precipitated a round of campfire ghost stories. “That may have been what started this.” Jake said. “At least now there is something to tell the technician at the auto dealership. It will likely help him troubleshoot.”“That railroad ghost lady story really freaked me out a little.” Renee said. “That was perfect timing.” Jake said. “It happened on a foggy Saturday night.” Renee interjected. “That’s enough. When the train passed through, I nearly fainted.”They made an appointment for after dinner. They’d to go to the dealer, leave the car in the customer parking area, and pick up a loaner left for them. As they pull into the lot, the dash lights and dash cam indicator flicker. “Here we go again.” says Jake. “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve checked the dash cam footage.” Renee says.They start forwarding through the footage stills, as they get the images of their driving, including the weekend away. They slow it down to recall the fun weekend. “Did you turn the car on during the campfire at some point? I didn’t.” Jake says. “Me neither.” Renee responds. They can see the footage on the foggy night.“Slow it down. What is that in the fog, by the train crossing sign?” Renee asks. “I don’t know.” Jake responds, “it’s definitely thicker and brighter than the fog, though.” Just as a local train blasts its horn, they watch the screen as the wispy figure in the fog dissipates into the path of the Saturday night train at the lake.Renee nearly fainted.461 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

It’s very sunny today. There is a lot happening outdoors. People are doing all sorts of things since Winter is ending, and it’s the first stretch of warm days in a while. Everyone is talking about how it’s an early Spring.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoIt happens every year. People get out there, and they start clearing away the last patches of snow. They rake out the yards and prepare the gardens. They feel so lucky and blessed that they get an early start on the new season.They get out their bikes and other warm weather things. They start wearing lighter clothes, and maybe even short pants and sleeves. It feels so great to be all aired out. They open the windows and get the bad air out. The new air rushes into the windows and fills the house with new life. It’s rather awesome.What happens next is the streets melt off, and the slush builds up along the curbs, slowly draining into the sewer system, clearing all of that out as well. Of course there is the residue from the entire Winter, building up in that gooey, gray mess. That’s fine. It will pass with a good rain.The best thing about it is the drier air. It would be one thing if the air was all damp and foggy and dismal, but the air is speeding things along. The evaporation of winter, isn’t all dank and gross, it’s pleasant. And the lifting barometric pressure speeds the thaw along. How nice.After a week of this, people are all settled in to Spring. They’ve done some planting, they cleaned the screens and opened up their sun porches to the breeze. They’ve washed the salty sludge off their cars and trucks. They’ve waxed and polished them, too. So ready. So ready for the fresh new year.Like a clock, but as if it has never happened in history, all of a sudden, there is a heaviness to the air, the temperature starts to drop, the sky gets a cover, and here comes the last big storm of the year. Every year it happens, and every year people behave as though they’re surprised.It’s like when the politicians say, “This time it will be different, we’re going to do all the things the citizens want, and you’re going to be put first, things are going to improve, and your value will be appreciated and rewarded.”It’s not different though. It’s the same every time. Every cycle, people forget. They thought it was over. It’s not over. You just have a lousy, short, dumb memory. Cool hope, bro.306 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

There are fourteen panes of glass on Milo’s truck. That’s a lot, actually, because they are large. He has spent a long time putting this order together. It was a very specific order. Milo had to hunt down half of these pieces and then custom cut them to size.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThese are half inch panes. Pretty thick stuff. Tempered, and tinted 15%, green. Six feet, by four feet. When the client made the order, he understood that it would be a difficult one to fill. He made it clear that he understood the trouble by paying 50% up front.When Milo asked him what the glass is for, the client would seem to have other things to talk about. Usually these things were for greenhouses, or maybe for custom windows in a large house. That’s what Milo figured. Something like that.The carriers for windows like this are custom-built. They are angle structures, so the glass leans, and remains held in place by gravity. Four by six planks, very heavy. Two of these frames, holding seven panes each, situated equidistantly, on the back of his large, flatbed truck. Between each pane are two inch thick pieces of heavy foam rubber. They sit on a thick, large, rubber mat, laid out on the bed of the truck. The suspensions for trucks like this are customized as well. There can’t be any jarring or bumpy rides.Milo is driving the truck out to the client’s property. It’s a long drive from the city to a fairly rural location. In fact, the man asked him about the truck, and the width of it, and said something odd. “I’ll prepare the road for the truck so it won’t be too much of a problem.” He said. “That’s curious”, Milo thought.As Milo approaches the drive at the address, he has to swing out, in order to get the truck between two large, tall, brick and stone pillars. He waits in front of a thick wrought iron gate. He can’t see a keypad, or a phone box, or any way to let the client know he’s here. Suddenly, the gate sways open. The fine, packed gravel drive melds into pressed cinder stone. Milo is expecting to see some kind of manor, or other large estate structure. Instead, all he sees is a turnaround at the edge of a forest.As he approaches the clearing, he can see off to the right, a cut path. He stops the truck, and gets out for a better look. The path is wide enough, though barely, and he can see that trees have been cut, and branches recently pruned to make room for his truck. The path has been tamped and smoothed. He can see about twenty feet, and then there’s a left turn.He proceeds. It’s a very tight left turn, and he has room. Ahead of him it’s fairly steep, and it winds to the right. He doesn’t know what’s up there, or how it looks after that. He decides it will be best to cover the glass. He has large movers blankets, and he fastens them down with bungees. Something to note, is that on highways and open roads, it’s better to let the people see that one is hauling glass. Other drivers tend to keep their distance. That’s good. That’s what one wants.As Milo drives to the bend to the right, he sees another steep section. It looks tamped and smooth, but it’s wavy. He takes it slow as he comes to another left turn. Now, he has to make a mildly steep, but long descent. He can see that once he gets through this, the little road finally flattens out.Once at the bottom of this hill, he’s in another large clearing. There are tree stumps and rocks, but there will be enough room to turn around and leave the way he came. He sees no one. He knows he’s in the right place because, as the client said, he groomed the road for him to make the delivery.Milo’s phone buzzes with a text. ”Harold will be down to help you move that glass. Sit tight a moment?”“No problem, I’ll get everything ready here.” Milo replies.He hops out of the driver seat and uncovers the glass. He unlatches and swings down the frames to make the glass available for moving off the truck. Then, he hops down, and slides out the ramps that are stored under the bed of the truck between rails.Milo hears something coming down the hill at the back of the clearing. He’s expecting some help from a hire of the client. He sees instead a donkey. Riding the donkey is a chimpanzee. A chimpanzee wearing a ball cap and wearing work gloves. Harold dismounts from the donkey and ties him off to a tree. He then acknowledges Milo and runs over to a couple of close standing trees, and pats them. Then points to another set on the other side of the clearing.Harold bounds over to the truck. Milo is astonished and a little uncomfortable. Harold calmly walks over to him, being nearly as tall as the five-foot seven Milo, pats him gently on the chest and gives him a soft hug. He then makes a motion with his hand as if to say, “come on, let’s go.”Harold takes the initiative and takes the first pane of glass by the end, waiting for Milo. Milo obliges, and they begin moving the first set of panes to the trees on the one side. Leaning them very carefully, using the rubber pads between them, as on the truck. Then they repeat the process on the other side.Harold presses his fingers into the palm of his other hand, and points to Milo’s pocket. Milo surmises that he should text the client that the delivery is successfully unloaded. “Apparently things are complete here.” He texts. “Give Harold a thumbs up sign.” He sees on the screen. He does, and Harold hustles over to the donkey and gets a binder from a pouch draped around the donkey.Back to Milo, Harold opens the binder and hands Milo a check for the balance of the order. He then reaches in and gives him a fifty dollar bill. Harold mimes as though he's putting something to eat into his mouth. He pats Milo gently on the shoulder, turns around, returns to and gets up onto the donkey and heads back up the hill.Milo, thinking out loud to himself, says, “Why would a Chimpanzee need a donkey?”1009 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Jerry and Karen weren’t finding the presentation pleasant. Jerry felt it was slow and disorganized. He’s done dozens of these types of things, and it looked cheap to him, and far too loose.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoKaren couldn’t believe the things people were saying. It was as if no one had pre-approved the speeches, or vetted the speakers for their opinions. It was not cohesive to her, and there was no succinct narrative that people could take away from the event.Jerry whines to Karen. “I can’t believe they’re not moving things along. They have a speaker, and some Q&A from the audience, which is really just unnecessary, and then they wait 20 minutes for the next person to take the podium. Do they really think people like some noisey jazz trio so much that they want to sit there for 20 minutes?”“I know right?” Karen says. “And, who are these people, what are their pedigrees? What do they do, just choose random citizens to talk about these things, without any expertise? This is pathetic. Some of them don’t even look like they’re educated, and they use common street language.”Jerry continues, “People are just milling about, talking to one another in between the speakers. They just get up and walk around, talking, and there is no coherence. There is a table full of random food out on tables in the back. People are just going back there to eat and talk. God knows where it even came from. Why are they even coming here if they aren’t going to pay attention and get their talking points and instructions?”“It’s ridiculous.” Karen says. “I could organize something better than this in my sleep.”The MC of the event takes the podium, and asks people to take their seats, or stand over to the side. Very quickly and respectfully, things are calmed down and people are listening.“What great music today! Isn’t the Plasma Trio wonderful? Thanks, you three for your hard work, and for providing the ambiance and room noise. We really do appreciate it.” The people applaud, whistle and shout their agreement to those sentiments.“We are so glad we could provide this opportunity to get so many people from different places in life together. We know you’re going through a lot and there is a lot happening. It’s so good to hear common, American voices for a change. There have been so many new relationships started today. There have been some reunions, too. We know you have great plans and are getting things in place for some good forward movement. Please stay as long as you’d like, to finish things up. Finish up the food, and be sure to take some home if you need it. I can’t wait to hear and see what you’re going to do. We are so glad we could create these conditions. Good night everyone.” The crowd applauds and cheers again.“How pathetic.” Karen says again. “How unorganized.”“What in the world is that woman talking about?” Jerry says. “What plans? What forward motion? What kind of program is this?” — 515 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Molly is sitting in her garden. She’s looking at the devastation after some wild pig got in there and rooted everything out. It’s like a state of shock. She worked so hard. Surveying the chaos, sitting cross-legged. Leaning forward. Nearly rocking back and forth.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThings were going so well. She was relying on success, and felt she needed to get 30% of her family’s requirements from this year’s yield. She’ll be able to replant maybe half of it. The kids are at school, her husband is one of the lucky ones with a job. That’s where he is.The first things she has to do is get the stuff back into the ground that she can. She can salvage some greens, probably, if she washes them well. There are some squash that made it through, and she’ll make use of the green tomatoes that were left.She separates the re-plantable things, and rakes out the rest. Then she gets to replanting. As she’s turning up the soil, in the bare spots, she checks the fencing that she and her husband put up. They were so proud of it. They thought they had it handled. It looked hearty and well-made when it was all done. They covered the enclosure to protect it from birds, using wire mesh, as well. It seemed sound and formidable.“It was all for naught.” She says, frustrated.The frame of the fence was four by four wooden posts, with wire mesh wrapping the entire enclosure. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to keep a pig from pushing through at the end facing the back of their yard. She sees that there will have to be a solution for that.When she finishes the cleanup, she goes into the garage and finds some salvaged wood. She gets the cordless circular saw and drill, and some screws. She’ll cut some pieces of wood, place them at the base of the posts to cover two and a half feet up the side of the mesh, to prevent a reoccurrence of pillage.As she’s hauling these things out to the garden, she hears a noise and sees some brush rustling out back of the garage. She exits the enclosure to get a closer look. She sees the wild pig. She goes to the side door of the garage to get the rifle that is kept hanging inside, up high, above the door. She returns to the back of the garage.“Hello Naught.”The family will have meat. They will have sausage.419 words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Greg was enjoying his Senior year English class. His teacher, Mrs. Smith, assigned great books to read. She seemed to genuinely see the kids and speak with them with respect. She assigned writing assignments that were pretty interesting, and mostly fun.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoShe assigned an essay about where the kids saw themselves in ten years. This was a tough one for Greg, because the situation in the house where he grew up and where he lived made it difficult for him to prepare for his future. He would try to express himself in the best way he could.Greg wrote his ideas down. They were long, run-on sentences. They were passionate, but the piece was cohesive and came to a resolute conclusion.During their reading assignment, Greg could see that she was reading the essays. He had marked the corner of his, so he’d know when she was reading it. He watched her face as she read it. The best he could tell, he liked the reaction she had to his writing.Mrs. Smith ended class ten minutes early. She did that when she wanted to give someone special attention. Mrs. Smith asked a few of the kids, including Greg, to stay after class. The other kids knew to stay very quiet in the hallway on their way to their lockers, or else this somewhat rare practice would be disallowed.She called Greg up to her desk first. She said, “Greg, you have sentences here that are very long. There is one that is 41 words, and another that is 58 words long. Those are long sentences. They have to be broken down into smaller pieces that people can absorb. These are technically correct sentences, though, Greg. It’s actually remarkable. They make sense and they follow. Most people can’t do this, Greg, and most people have a difficult time following sentences like this. I’m going to teach you how to tailor your writing in a way that the majority of people can read it.”Greg looked at the essay. He noted the red ink, the remarks about punctuation and the encouraging comments. “Thank you.” Greg said.Mrs. Smith looked up at him. “Greg.” She said. “You have thoughts.”367 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“I have been thinking all morning, and my fingers won’t move. All the thoughts in the universe are flowing through my mind simultaneously, but I can’t get half a word on paper.” Robert tells his literary agent. “You’re using paper?” His agent responds. * Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThere is silence. Robert is so sick of stupid people, but he has to try to remember to be nice. It’s hard for him. As he’s gotten older, there is a lot less patience, and unniceness can emerge. “I was being figurative, or it’s an analogy, or something.” He responds. There are things he likes about having an agent and the help of a publishing firm. It’s a sense of validation and mutual interest. It has actually been his biggest motivator. That business relationship, where there are responsibilities, and expectations. It’s worth dealing with the foibles of others. He’s aware that he certainly has issues as well. “What’s happening, something holding you up?” The agent asks. “I’m trying to figure out if I should do something new, or rework old stuff.” Robert replies. “Didn’t you say you had some essays you wanted to get to; reread and maybe tighten them up?” The guy says. “Yes, those are there. I figured I’d get to those between other books. You know, as a quick follow-up in case something goes well. I can capitalize on the success of the previous thing. Like that.” “Go through those. Get that ready.” The agent says. “You have to get something done now. While you’re tightening all that up, stuff will start to click on this book. But once you start those, don’t stop till they’re complete. That’s my input. That will get you going, and you’ll have something I can report to the underwriters. Win, win.” “They care about essays and philosophizing and all that?” Robert asks. “They get it. They get vehicles and techniques and all that.” Is the response. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s what I need. Maybe having that unfinished is bothering me, too.” Says Robert. “Go get on it. I’ll call next Monday. Good luck, have fun.” He hangs up. 351 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“Where is the host?” Beatrice asked as she was checking out the set-up on the stage.The guest speakers for the podcasting conference were beginning to find their way into the convention area. It was all types of people, and the chattering would be expected. Bea, and her friend Alice took the liberty of going onto the stage, to check things out. They felt privileged due to being presenters.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThe Emcee of the event was M.I.A. He had an appointment to meet with the presenters in the convention auditorium that was supposed to happen an hour before the start of the evening presentation. It was fifteen minutes to start time.“He was here this afternoon, Ma’am”, one of the location Staff said. “We haven’t seen him since.” His name was Howard Buckley, a local News Anchor.The house was filling up quickly, Alice was surveying the crowd, asking if anyone knew where the host was. People cared, but not that much. Large events like this run into issues, most people understand that.The presenters were gathered at the front of the house, trying to figure out what they would do. It was decided that if there is no change in the situation in 15 minutes that they would go ahead with the schedule, without the host. Bea went over to the podium at stage right and tapped for a mic test. The sound booth guy turned on the mic and gave her an OK sign. She announced the plan to the crowd, and then stepped away from the mic.On the stage was a couch and a matching chair, with a side table between them, and a long coffee table in front of the couch. It was a pleasant set-up that included a vase and flower, with a pitcher of water and drinking glasses.The presenters were the award winners from the previous year, and they would announce and present those awards to this year’s recipients. Pretty simple really. They had been apprised already of the new awardees. This way they could prepare their introductions.The location was great. It was a soundstage and a studio, with a live performance auditorium. It was a media center contributed to the community by a local musician and actor couple who weren’t nationally known, but who had great success on the business end of show business, as producers. For that reason, the place was equipped with all the things that young, aspiring performers could use to help with their success.The time they had decided had come, and there was still no sign of the host. The presenters decided to get on stage and use the couch and chair for waiting their turns. They attached their wireless clip-on mics and had some quick testing with the sound both, and everything was go.Everything went smoothly, right to the very end of the program. It was fun not having a host. Things were spontaneous, there was a lot of humor, and all the other services did their jobs too. All the recipients did their interviews and photo ops, alone and together with their presenters and as a group. There was musical entertainment and a stand-up comic. A fun Saturday night, for sure.Throughout the evening, people working there grew concerned about the host. The administrators of the place started to consider legal ramifications, and local law enforcement were notified, everyone knew who Howard was.Howard was a senior news man at the local TV station. He had weekends with his family, everyone was quite concerned. His family was most devastated when he wasn’t even at the station on Monday. Not only was this terrible enough, but it was even worse now, because there was no way Howard would be absent from work unless there was a very serious issue.A week and a half later, the headline of the news outlet read,Anchorman Howard Buckley Mystery Solved: Beloved Local Favorite Found Locked in Soundproof Booth at Community Soundstage Auditorium. Deceased.666 WordsFresh The Arc of The Bard interview releases tomorrow, Monday, Feb 16.Where do stories come from? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

It’s so dark up there, what is that?Space.What are those lights?Stars.How did they get there?How we got here.How?From there.Where?The stars.When?At the same time.Can we go there?We are there.Where?Space.43 Words.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGo This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

On Friday evening, Miles was watching the highway traffic from his apartment window. 20 minutes ago he was coming along that same stretch to the exit adjacent to his neighborhood. He cracks open a sparkling water and watches as he changes his clothes. * Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoHe had a long day at work., but he completed eight hours in six. His sales funnel was on fire. He closed enough business to secure a monthly bonus with a week to spare. He’s lucky as hell to have this job because there aren’t a lot of them to go around anymore. He’s really waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s why he’s been pushing so hard. The only reason he left early is that his supervisor told him to go home after his really good day. He doesn’t see that as a good sign. He’s not sure if it means that shoe is coming, or if his supervisor feels threatened by his productivity, or if it was a genuine gesture of rewarding him. He knows how these corporate gigs go. It’s not exactly a merit based system. To be safe, he peruses the job search engines to see what’s out there. He’s a very cautious guy. He has no illusions. Generally, one would think that if a guy is on fire like that, you want to let him keep slaying. He sees one thing that really perks his interest. It’s a little odd. Not something he would think is in his wheelhouse, necessarily. The headline of the ad reads, Research Analyst: Sales Experience a Plus. The rest of the ad is, Data driven associate wanted for new transportation surveys. Complete interviews with potential customers for the cutting edge in personal transport. Must be comfortable with high-end clientele. There’s no company name, and no more details. Only a phone number, and a very specific call window. Call between 8:00-8:05 Monday. That is very specific, and his curiosity is appropriately peaked. The problem is that Mondays at 8AM is the beginning of his workday, and Mondays are department required meetings. He’s going to have to make that call, he’s too curious, so he’ll have to find a way to do both.It’s after business hours now. He can’t contain his curiosity, so he calls the number to see if he can get some insight into the company. There is a not-in-service recording. Now, he’s more curious than ever. Miles is at work on Monday, he’s early, as usual. At precisely 8AM while everyone is filing into the department meeting, he calls the number. At the tone, please state your first and last name, then wait for further instructions. Hearing the tone, Miles speaks, Miles Travers. There is a digital series of clicks and static, then another recorded message. Your location has been logged. Please await your follow-up interview. Then, the call disconnects. Miles is perplexed.The department meeting is typical, and over in less than ten minutes. As Miles leaves the conference room, he sees two men in fine business attire. One of the men is holding out his phone, as if scanning. They approach Miles. “Hello Mr. Travers, thanks for responding to our opportunity. Please give us ten minutes of your time.” 537 Words.thank you, easytopians, for the liking and the sharing This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

The senators have concluded their briefing from the Intelligence personnel regarding the status of disclosure. They have the look on their faces. That helpless, confused look, like a pet disallowed from a dinner table.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThe conversation invariably comes to how to deal with the growing curiosity of the domestic population. Every method is used. From decoy strategies, to obfuscation, to planting assets as false whistleblowers, to mass distraction programs, to propaganda from Hollywood.“I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out on this.” says a Senator. “ If the people are ready, then the people are ready.”The otherworlders have only transactional relationships. The general population really doesn’t have much to offer. In fact, they’re domesticated by their governments. This serves a dual purpose of protecting the interests of the otherworlders, and also to protect caste positions of the political classes.Hiking on a trail, there is a man. He realizes he’s being observed by a wolf. The wolf knows to keep his distance from the two-legged. There is evolutionary conditioning that has ingrained this behavior into the wolf. The wolf does not know the nature of the walking stick the man uses. There is genetic memory in the wolf that knows it could be quite a treacherous feature of the two-legged. This is a degree of domestication.The otherworlders provide benefits and advantages to the political class. This maintains an interest in the political class to avail the domestic population as a resource, and their resources, to the otherworlders for the transactional agreements the political class makes with the otherworlders. This is a degree of domestication.The otherworlders are easily able to maintain this relationship with the political class. They see the political class a control. They know as long as they provide, incrementally, just enough special treatment, they can maintain this easy flow of resources without having to deal with the wild, undomesticated population. These are degrees of domestication.Another Senator opines. “The more we buttress the levy, the worse it’ll be when she goes.”339 Words.Thanks for sharing my posts. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

The new technology was amazing. It was so innovative and interesting. People were more connected than ever. Families could stay in touch and keep track of their kids. Friends could maintain contact, though far-flung.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items. Refurbished, open box, etc.* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard Fiction Writers interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoThe speed and efficiency which business could be done was astounding. Money and negotiations could be moved with ease; agreements and contracts signed instantly. People could learn new things in record time. Not only voluntarily, but there were courses and online degrees available to anyone who wanted to take that avenue.Behind the scenes of this technology were people who feared competition, free -enterprise and good will. They had other plans in mind. They used the tech to instill fear. To keep people engaged negatively, they created false stories and made fake identities online to harass people and foment chaos.Of course, they’d blame it on other countries, but the impetus was global, it wasn’t national. It was cheaper to pay people in difficult situations, from other places. Their goal was global capture, was it not?The population had given over their minds and their bodies to these technologies. They had declined in intelligence, they were uncoordinated. They declined to monitor their food and water for poison. They had become weak, and sick; they had become trusting of authority. Some of them actually believed they were participating in various revolutions, or others. They were nearly as unskilled as the people manipulating them.The technology that was not being revealed was far more than anything people had in mind. It was assumed that the strategy was to keep the people distracted with hate and emotional triggers; with bad information and motives. It was assumed that keeping the people at odds and in chaos, while the clever but mostly talentless operators prepared to unleash technologies that would not only psychologically devastate the population, but physically destroy them, was the plan. That was an incomplete and presumptuous notion.One day, the advanced technology and weaponry was revealed by the controllers. People were terrorized and shocked into compliance. The next day, the plug was pulled on the technology that the rest of the population used. They bloodied themselves, falling on their faces.367 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“He just went and decapitated them?”* $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items: Refurbished, open box, discontinued.* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard Writers Interview podcast* Read and share my GiveSendGoIt was all the news around there for days. No reason, no warning. It wasn’t for revenge, it wasn’t for self-defense. It was just because. It made no sense at all.The family spent the day cleaning up. The neighbors were shocked. The kids were mortified. It wasn’t clear to anyone how it happened, much less why. Everything seemed secure. It was very difficult to find the point of entry.Needless to say, people were disappointed. So much time and effort had been put into creating the best environment possible for their long, productive lives. It wholly ruined the family’s plans for a pleasant vacation. Let alone breakfast.It was the talk of the fields.“He just stared out at everyone when they came out and found the mess. As if to say, what are you going to do about it? Yep, he got in there and took their heads off and left. The owl went into the chicken coop, killed all the chickens, and then just left, as if it was a matter of course.” Said the squirrel to the gopher.198 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

For now, Jimmy is hanging at the job site, waiting for everyone, sitting on a few concrete blocks, eating an egg sandwich and drinking a coffee. He’s been sleeping in his car that he keeps there. He leaves the site in the evening, like everyone else, goes to the store and gets some dinner food. Then he goes to the park to eat. Around sundown, he heads back to the job site and parks behind the project, does some scrolling and reading, then sleeps.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard | New episode yesterday* Read and share my GiveSendGoHe’s usually awake before sunrise, and runs out to get his breakfast. He is so tired from working, and stressing about his shelter situation, he conks out early. The set-up crew arrives at six AM. Then the rest of the crew arrives at 7AM, and the noise ordinance allows them to begin the cacophony at 7:30. Only a couple of the guys know he’s doing this. They keep it cool for him because they respect his privacy, and his pride.Three or four nights a week, those guys will have him to their place to shower up. Otherwise, he cleans up with the hose at the site, and some supplies he keeps in his trunk. He has a system for keeping himself discreet. No one would ever know he is dealing with this type of arrangement. He used a private mailbox address for his job application, and was able to start a bank account to save money for a place of his own. Even so, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to afford a place in the area, with what he makes at this job.If he were to share a place, it’s already the case that he’d be treading water with those expenses. His phone, his mailbox, and the essentials he needs takes up about a third of what he brings in… and he doesn’t even have a place to live.Jimmy pulls his weight on the job, for sure. He does general labor, and he talks to, and watches the tradesmen do their things. He’d like to get into one of those trades, but he has to commit to one of them if he wants to get an apprenticeship. If he were to start an apprenticeship, starting that would be less income than he makes now, and he’d have to buy tools. He’ll likely maintain this situation indefinitely in order to even have a chance at saving up enough money for an apartment.The guys he works with are tough. Most of them have been working at this company for many years. Some of them have known each other for decades, and even served together in the military. He feels comfortable around them, and respects them, and they reciprocate. All in all it’s a good time. It’s a rough life, but they all make the most of it and look out for one another. He has learned a lot from them and he has their backs.He feels like talking to them about his situation is more responsibility than they should have to deal with. He’s not looking for their pity, or for special treatment. He’ll leave well enough alone. If they do find out, his gut tells them they’ll be understanding. Regardless he’ll remain discreet.At the end of one of his days, Jimmy is putting his reading away. He reclines his seat and prepares for sleep. He prays, and pulls his ball cap over his eyes. Just then, a car pulls up and has the lights in his direction. He looks out from under his cap. It’s one of the new hires. A younger dude who has only been with the company for a couple of days. He shuts off his lights and the two of them make eye contact. The young guy is looking at Jimmy with concern. Knowing exactly what’s going on, Jimmy raises his index finger to his lips. The young dude nods. They’ll talk in the morning.661 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

I’m giving you a break from my recent spate of serious stories. Hope you had a nice, dumb, fixed Superbowl. ~HSThere is a new Episode of The Arc of The Bard, with Sean Glatch of Writers.com tomorrow, February 9. Check that out.There were no snacks in the pantry. It was so cold outside, and Bill had planned to stay in this weekend to clean the place, catch up on his shows, and watch the Superbowl. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten to pick up some favorites after work. He used his drive home to tie up loose ends from the week. Now he has to brave a freeze snap and hit the store.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard writers interview podcast.* Read and share my GiveSendGoHe put on his warmest things, the scarf, the floppy hat, the polar gloves, the whole business. He dreaded the ice and snow build-up on the pavement outside. He knows he’d have to face that soon, but it was not a pleasant thought.The work week was fruitful, He was productive, one of his best weeks. He really deserved a reward. He only wanted to have a cozy, solitary, productive weekend as well. Most years, for the big weekend, he’d get together with friends, or family, they’d sit around and do all the things. Stuffing their faces with garbage food, arguing about whether it’s all fixed, watching the commercials and the puppy bowl.Bill’s favorite was just plain old, good ol’ fashioned ridged chips with sour cream and onion dip. He’d just sit there and scoop big creamy, salty wads of that into his gob. His sister made really nice pigs in blankets, half-baked, then complete them wrapped in bacon. It is so stupid. He’d sop up the grease on the bottom of the pan with the bitten end and be ridiculous with it. Fart city. BYO baking soda, Jack.Now, he’s sitting in icy lousy traffic trying to get to the grocery store, thinking about what he wants to mow down while his car heater is finally kicking in. He can take off his gloves and hat. One hundred percent, he’ll be getting the chips, sour cream, and onion soup mix. He’s figuring in some cold cuts and pretzel rolls with a couple types of mustard. Probably some coleslaw and horseradish for those sandwiches, just in case. He’s going to want some peanut butter cups, some soft bread sticks and an almond cheese ball. All of that, for sure.Then, there’s the thing of the frozen pizza. But that’s no good without some extra cheese to thrown on there and some accessory toppings. He may as well get some more beer, since he’ll get low by the end of the weekend. He’ll be chucking some mixed nuts and caramel corn in there during the streaming he has to get up to speed with.As he finally starts moving in traffic, he can see what the commotion is that’s slowing everyone down. There’s a big spill of salt from one of the County salt trucks. It’s practically a stand still, though, they’re only letting a few cars go at a time from each direction. This really sucks. He inches closer, and realizes he has a 5 gallon bucket in his trunk for emergency supplies. He has all that snow and ice at home, too. This is fortuitous. He’s not far from the site. In the next little advancement, He’ll be able to get out and fill his bucket with salt. Why not?That’s what happens. Bill quickly pops the trunk, jumps out of the car, dumps the supplies from the bucket, and is able to easily fill the bucket without any issues or confrontation from the LEO’s on the scene. They seem to not even care. They have important things to worry about. Bill helped to pay for the salt, it’s not a big whoop to him, either.He secures the bucket in the trunk and returns to his door, and realizes it’s locked. He’s steamed. He’s stuck out there without his gloves and hat. He’s pounding on the roof of his car. It’s time for the traffic to move, and everyone is honking at him. He tries the back door. Locked. He runs around to the driver side door, locked. He tries the rear door on that side. Open! He gets in there and unlocks his driver door. As he comes around the back of the car, he motions his penitence to the other drivers, bowing, and making praying hands. He gets in the car and he can move forward.As he passes by the cop directing traffic, the cop is laughing and shaking his head. Bill tips his forehead and also laughs. He knows he really lucked out. He has to make a wide left turn around the salt truck, and all the guys standing around out there, take a moment from leaning on their shovels to applaud him as he drives past.A few hundred feet down the road, Bill pulls into the grocery lot. He sees his sister, Linda, coming out of the store. He honks and parks, and she meets him at his car.“So, you’re staying in this weekend?” She asks.“Yeah, I guess so” Bill replies. “I want to clean the place and get some things done. It’s been a busy week. What are your plans?”She explains. “Well, we were going over to Marsha’s but her kids all have the flu, so we have to figure it out. It’s all the High School reunion thing, you know?”“You gotta find a place.” He says.“Yep.” Linda says.“Hmm, well, I guess why not come over to my place, that’ll be fine, if you guys want.”“OK.” She says, “I’ll tell everyone.”“I could use some help getting the place ready. We have a day, if someone wants to come early Sunday, that might be good.”“We can make that happen.” Linda says.“Hey, can you make those hot dog bacon things?”Linda tilts her grocery bag so he can see into it.961 Words.There is a new Episode of The Arc of The Bard, with Sean Glatch of Writers.com tomorrow, February 9. Check that out.easytopians share my posts. 2minutarians do not. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“I don’t have time for this.” Cheri said. “I have too much to do.”“What?” Jamie asked.“All of it.” She replied.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The Bard“But what do you have time for and what is it that you don’t have time for?”“None of it” She said.“I know the feeling, prioritizing can be hard. We make commitments, and then we have to manage things in a way that can be difficult.” Jamie responds.Cheri has three bags. She organized her things, and packs all three of them. She has work papers, two sets of different side hustle materials, and a bag of store returns.“Can you just leave the store returns? And then do those another time?” Jamie asks.“I have to do those first, because I need gas money and lunch.” Cheri says.“I wish I had time to help, I really do, but I have to work the phones like crazy this week, because rent is due in a week, and I’m not quite there. I don’t even think I have enough for groceries.” Jamie says.Cheri loads herself down with her bags and hustles down the stairs to the mailbox, before she gets to her car. All that’s there are bills, and they are bigger than usual. The electric bill, especially. She also sees a letter from the landlord, explaining that there will be rent increase to cover the rising cost of the water bill.Cheri drives down the road toward the highway exit, to get to the stores early, so she can make her returns. It’s about a half hour before sunrise and as she approaches the highway entrance, where the public school was, that’s now converted to housing for indentured immigrants. Entering the highway, she can see the light pollution from the new data center, that was built with expedience. Further along, she sees a billboard for a new high-rise development complex that reads: “If You Lived Here, You’d Be at Work.”As she exits the highway and approaches the intersection, she sees a homeless encampment. There are people with signs for panhandling, people looking for work, and a lot of milling about. The sun is rising, and she’s stopped for the red light, a young man with some towels and window cleaner approaches her car. She mouths emphatically to him, “I don’t have any money, really, I’m so sorry!” The young guy smiles, gives her the thumb’s up, and mouths back calmly, “It’s OK.” And he quickly cleans her windshield anyway. They smile at each other, seeming to understand the other’s predicament.As she makes her turn toward the Mega center to make her returns, she can’t help but notice the surveillance cameras of different types, and the drone that wanders the sky above the location. She parks close to the entrance, and she sees a small automated vehicle, with a snake of shopping carts attached, malfunctioning and knocking itself into the front of the building.She enters the store to a chorus of buzzers and beepers, and is greeted by an old man with a limp, and through a saccharine, painful smile, he welcomes her to the Mega center. “Hi.” She says, sadly.Cheri returns her items and counts the cash she’s received from it. She’ll have enough for gas, something for lunch, and a few groceries. She calls Jamie.“I’ll be able to pick up a few things for the next couple of meals”, she tells her.“Thanks.” Jamie says. “I really appreciate you.”“Likewise.” Cheri says.“How are things going so far?” Jamie asks.Cheri responds, “I’ll explain later, but I gotta go see a guy about a windshield.”610 Words.one little share can go a long way. be an easytopian… share. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

The sounds of helicopters passing through were elusive and intermittent, having nothing from which to echo. They could have been anywhere. The visibility above the thick cover was undoubtedly spectacular.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The BardIt was low clouds for days. The sun wasn’t baking them off. The light came through with reticent indecisiveness. It might wait till tomorrow, but it wanted to peek into the threshold.This wasn’t common in those parts. People went about the days as usual, but it was certainly a conversation. People would stop and look around, look at each other, raise their eyebrows and comment on the strangeness. The question was whether they wanted them to clear out, or did they want all that rain?That would be a lot of rain. Unless it came in a slow drizzle. These seemed more like drizzle clouds than storm clouds. Regardless, it was odd. Not something the folks around there had ever seen. More than anything, they wanted familiarity. This wasn’t their sky.After some discussion, and reading, and convincing, the people in those parts determined they’d try something. One of the locals remembered playing as a kid. They described how they’d lie on their backs and focus on a cloud, and concentrate. They called it cloudbusting. By focusing on the clouds, it would cause them to break up, and move out from the area of influence. Upon hearing the story, there were others who also remembered this phenomenon. They also played with their friends and experienced this.They recalled that this behavior was frowned upon. They would be scolded, and be told to come inside their homes. For some reason, this phenomenon was considered a problem, and it was suppressed. Which explains why they had forgotten.One evening, they all went outside. They laid on their backs, they consolidated their influence, and remembered. The stars were magnificent.307 Words.easytopians share. don’t be a 2minutarian This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

One of the things one does at a job like this, while seeking out smoke and flame from way up there on the deck, is follow lights. There’s not much else to do. There are plenty of them. Airplanes, satellites, helicopters, and the other things.* Get my $5 eBook | The political class in 15 minutes or less* Use this link for discounted tech items* This is the best landing page system you’ll find for writers* Check out The Arc of The BardJosie is at her last evening as Fire Lookout. She’s been on this assignment for 5 months. It has been eventful. She’s reported her share of fires, that’s for sure. She’s really going to miss this job. She loves it. She’s been combing the local county papers for another job close by, so she can return to this post next season.It’s been something that she’s grown accustomed to. The unexplainable lights that often show up when she thinks about them. It doesn’t always happen, but it does happen. Josie wonders if it’s their way of playing. She likes to talk to the wildlife when she’s out there. She’ll see a some Deer, and she’ll kiss to them, and speak calmly to them. They look back at her, curious, and then go back about their life. There’s no pretense of a relationship. It’s just a thing humans do when they see some critter or other.She thinks maybe that’s the nature of these encounters. We are so dissimilar to them, and our minds function so differently, that it would make sense that perhaps they are merely enjoying a moment with a different consciousness. Perhaps their sensitivity to our awareness of them is similar to the sounds we hear when a Deer moves through some brush.She wonders if our observer effect is felt by them, like some kind of breeze, or a tingling sensation. They will be traversing the sky, and suddenly, they can feel that they are being seen. Do they see it? Feel it? Hear it?She’s packing up the last of her things. It’s a little sad for her. She’s made the little station in the tower her little fort. She takes down from the wall pages with jokes she’s written. Some sketches, some family photos with her dad and sister. She boxes up her snacks, and she places all these things in her backpack, near the door to the ladder.As she’s sweeping the floor for the last time, she’s keeping watch, she’s still on the clock, that’s why she’s here. She will be gone for good, first thing in the morning. As if on cue. There they are, the lights. As she steadies the tripod scope, she drops her head for a moment, and they’re gone. That happens a lot. It’s as if they know she’s going for a lens.She spends her last overnight shift, circling the deck tower as usual, and strumming on a ukulele. She sings softly and thinks. Thankfully, there are no fires. Just the usual noises in the woods below, and the passing of aircraft. She thinks about the conscious lights. She wonders if she’ll see them again. She reckons there will be times that she’s aware of them, but they’re there whether she sees them or not.In the morning is the shift change. She greets the new daytime lookout. They have some small talk, and she wishes him well. As she passes through the woods, on the trail to her vehicle, she sees a Deer nibbling peacefully on some leaves, from the corner of her eye, she sees something glint in the sky.570 Words.don’t be a 2minutarian. be an easytopian! share. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Day 4 of 28 stories, podcasted, in 28 days. The 3rd Annual Flash Fiction February.The political class in 15 minutes or less.Listen to The Arc of The BardLeopard 5 is referred to as The Watchtower by the Project Team. It sits in its solar system in such a way that it’s not only in view of most of the other planets, most of the time, but it’s in the best position to see into deep space.It was the first location chosen to have a permanent, stationary, Objective Vantage Astronomical Laboratory System. This not only provides some interesting data for this section of the universe, it also serves as a training apparatus for clone-hopping initiates. The early stages of hopper training can be disorienting and confusing. Having a fixed point, at first, helps the initiates acclimate to the process. This is the sixth phase in their training.The first phase is strictly academic. They learn about the development of consciousness cloning, who the technological developers were, and their scientific method. They absorb the papers and essays and watch all the key points where advancements were made. They witness all the testing. They have a full understanding of all the risks and benefits.The second phase is Duplication and Storage. Their minds are duplicated and stored. Then they learn the storage protocol. This is a device that will be held apart from them, in their assigned station. They are 100% responsible for it. It is in the state, and remains in the state of initial duplication until first use.The third phase is what are called Test Instants. This is first use. They engage their devices and experience new information with their devices for the first time. This happens several times, from varying locations around their station. They become accustomed to this remote, real-time experiencing.The fourth phase is what is known as Disengagement and Re-Acclimation Testing. This will be the first time that the Hoppers allow their cloned minds to disengage from them and have experiences they are unaware of. Then, they will re-engage and absorb those experiences as memories, for the first time. This re-engaging and absorption is disorienting. This testing phase can take some time.The fifth phase is OVAL Pairing. The trainees learn how to pair their device with an OVAL. They practice inserting their devices and programming it to the OVAL. Then they have test instances and disengagement testing with the OVAL. They use Station sponsored OVALS for these protocols. They are ending their testing phase, and entering Mission Training phase.The sixth phase of their training is Watch Guard. This is real Mission Experience Training. They will engage their devices to update their clone to their current state. They will then disengage their clone and pair it to a Station sponsored OVAL. They will remain in Station as their close takes full control of the OVAL and completes a Watch Mission at a location such as Leopard 5.OK: 2minutarians DO NOT share easytopian releases. ONLY easytopians share. Which are you? A lame 2minutarian, or an easytopian cool breeze? Which one?They complete several of these missions, disengaging and re-acclimating each time. They must have as many of these experiences as is necessary for the behavior to become wrote, and for their minds to be conditioned to the process.The seventh phase is called Mission Awareness. They will use Station sponsored OVALS and accompany Veteran operators on Routine, at first, and then critical missions. They will remain in this phase for at least 75 missions.Upon completion of phase 7 these new operators will, at some point, receive a personal OVAL. This OVAL contract will be presented by any number of Sponsors. These are very lucrative awards and the bidding for an OVAL operator is… astronomical.587 WordsThe political class in 15 minutes or less.Listen to The Arc of The Bard This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

The sleepy little town of Mirth was an eventful place whose boom time had come and gone. They manage to stay busy, due to their fortuitous location on the lake. There is tourism, and plenty of cleanup to do from the years of mining and shipping. It’s a pretty special spot.It’s the people though, it’s the people that make it. They like where they are. They figure it out. They want to be left alone. They are resolute to not dissipate. There is a lot of creativity, a couple of really good schools. And a fairly well established economy with the peripheral communities and towns.There was a Town meeting. The discussion was about the Church bells. They rang every morning, as was the tradition in towns like these decades ago. While the propagated purpose of these bells are to denote the faithfulness of the people, the real reason was the employ of the industrialists who owned the town in those days. They were essentially an alarm clock, to wake the rabble peasants and roust them to their posts. This was the commodification of time… and people. Faithful, indeed.The debate at the meeting was whether this tradition needed to continue. The local oligarchs had long since moved their operations along, into their next plunders. People were keeping their own schedules, anyway. These bells didn’t serve much purpose but to wake people keeping their own schedules, very inconveniently.There were arguments made that as a time honored custom, it should continue, and that there was a charming, old-timey aspect to it that was worth hanging onto. The other side of the debate was that it was offensive. It was a conditioned behavior from days of severe exploitation, and that the people shouldn’t respect that sort of training by the self-proclaimed hierarchy.It was determined, that the Sunday Church bells should be enough. That the daily ringing of the bells can stop. People would become accustomed to it. This way, perhaps in the future, some sort of system could be decided for the bells to serve another purpose during the week. In the case that an emergency meeting was necessary, maybe the bells could be rung for that. For civic events, or days that have historical significance. “Strictly for special uses.” was the wording in the resolution, and so it was. The people would be free from the remnant symbols of the feudal past.It was the talk of the town for days. Chuck and Tim Potter were talking about it while they installed the new surveillance streetlights. The Principal and some teachers lauded the decision while they tested out the facial recognition software that would be used on the students… For their safety of course, because of how much the government cares about children, and how the people behind that technology are so trustworthy. The road workers were celebrating the decision as they installed the license plate readers at all the points of entry to the town. It was all in all big news, in the sleepy little town of Mirth.512 WordsAre you a Storyteller? Do you want to be a guest on The Arc of The Bard? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

“I can’t get my head around this.” Juni says, and she winds some string around her forearm.Milo lies on his back, watching from a few feet away. “Move your arm around more, in all directions”Juni is getting more perplexed. “I can’t even figure out what this is for, what am I supposed to do with it?” She says, as more of the spool of pink string is unwinding on the floor in front of her.“I think you have to flail your arms faster and maybe get some of it around your neck and face.” Milo says, calmly.Juni pulls some string into her mouth. “It doesn’t taste very good, it doesn’t taste much like anything.”“Now that it’s all over your face and in your mouth, you should roll around and twist on the floor, I think that will help make sense of it.” Milo says, dryly.Juni darts out from under the couch, fully wound up in pink string, as the spool is dragged out behind her. “This is such a crappy toy, it’s really becoming an irritation with me.”Milo gets up from lying on the floor. He leaps up onto a chair across the room and sits. “You’d better jump up onto the couch.” He says.As Juni jumps onto the couch, the string further unwinds. “I just want this to be over.” She says.“You need to get away from it.” Milo says. “Get up onto the back of the couch and run back and forth, then go over to the shelf where it can’t follow you.”Juni jumps up onto the shelf and hides behind some books. ”I don’t know if it sees me or not.”“It seems like it’s not watching, you should jump down and hide behind the floor lamp for a minute.” Milo suggests.As Juni leaves the shelf, the row of books are pulled off with the string, they fly all over. “What is happening!” She yells.“Panic and scream really loud, run around all over the place, try to scare the string.” Milo instructs her.Juni runs around the room, the string has caught the lamp, it has disturbed an end table and knocked over a glass of water. She tries to run down the hall, to get out of the room, for all the noise and commotion, the string has become lodged under the couch leg and it restrains her. Between being wound up in the string, and caught in place, she can’t move very well. She glares at the spool of pink string. “I hate you, leave me alone! I don’t want to play with you!” She yowls.“Hiss and growl at it, maybe it will get the hint.” Milo says.Juni hunches, facing the spool. He glowers at it from beneath her furrowed brow. “If it moves, I’m going to kill it.”“I think I just saw it move.” Milo says.Juni turns her head quickly toward Milo, squinting her eyes at him.Just then, the food lady who cleans collects their poop come through the front door. “Juniper Jane Jackson! What have you gotten your self into! Look that this mess!”“I didn’t make a mess.” Milo informs her.The food lady breaks off the string and picks Juni up. “Are you OK, you must be traumatized.” She goes to a drawer and gets some scissors.“I’m traumatized.” Milo says.“Just give me a minute, I’ll have you out of this.” She cuts the string away from Juniper, who is shaking. She pulls Juni close to her and hugs her and rubs her neck with her fingernails. “You poor thing, let’s go get you some catnip.”“I want catnip.” Milo says. “Where’s my hug?”626 WordsEpisode 4 of the Arc of The Bard, the writer’s interview show, is out now. Do you want to be a guest on The Arc of The Bard? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Day One of the Third Annual Flash Fiction February. 28 brand-new stories in 28 days. Come back tomorrow. Check out my new podcast. I interview writers, and we try to figure out where the hell stories come from. New Episodes every Monday. Episode 004 this week.The premise for The Arc of the Bard, is that the phenomenon of original thought is fascinating and mysterious. Storytelling is a facility of that phenomenon. Artificial intelligence compiles data and calculates previously existing information. But what is the origin of human thought? Where do stories come from?Help out The Arc of The Bard at this link.Jovan takes a deep breath and looks around. He glances at the patient attendant from the side of his face. “I think I better take a walk around.” This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Not Flash Fiction today. A couple of real life anecdotes, instead. Please check out and buy my very short and cheap book here: https://linktr.ee/herschelsterling, where you can understand the political class in 15 minutes. I’ll be announcing a new podcast where I interview and read with other storytellers in the next couple of days. I’m excited and nervous about it. Subscribe to learn more. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

My ebook is short, sweet, and CHEAP, ok, you easytopian? Thanks for your support and for being a fan of my podcast. When I tell stories, I do get listens, and I get larger numbers of listens than my subscriber list. So, I thank you for the sharing and however that happens. Also, I was on a podcast last week. Go take a listen to that and be sure to subscribe to the Raydical Truth Podcast. That was a lot of fun.I’m reminding you of my new CHEAP, 5$ book that’s available, and I don’t have much to say right now, as I’m really trying to get all my books in a formation to be released over the next few months.I want you to consider that Civil War is a Racket, and that you are being abused by the political class. My Book The People from the Mountain and the People from the Valley is pertinent, in terms of this kind of conversation. And, this podcast will also be short and sweet.Subscribe to get the notifications for the rest of my books coming soon. Here is my other podcast, The Arc of The Bard This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Three stories and some thoughts about titles and their relationship to story endings. This is a live Discord reading to an audience. I like to have guests read with me, in case you’re interested. There will be no reading today, but at least you can hear last week’s content. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Here is the live reading from Sunday, Sep.14. Three stories.* Crazy, Out to Lunch Satanic Hillbillies* The Birthday Gun* Miracle MotorIf you have stories or poetry you would like to read, contact me any time. We can read on a Sunday. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Listen for the introductions and descriptions, etc. Three poems I wrote in the Gila Mountains. That was a long year of travel. The final poem in this series was from when I had deconstructed and decompressed from all the travel.UndulationGila – 5-7-13The Universe is a mind of minds. Every cell in your body is communicating right now, and you have no idea what they are saying. Your mind is capable of volitional thought. Thought itself is a frequency of energy. You have a unique consciousness that has manifested with every decision you made. You are a conscious being in a swarm of undulating energy, most of which your volition is perfectly capable of commanding… shake it baby shake it.#consciousness, #empowerment, #energy, #mind, #thought, #universe, #volitionParticlesGila – 05-18-13There are these waves of overwhelming gratefulness. They are ecstatic. It’s a rejoining. My tears are on my home. My Planet is magic. It’s alive. I am a ghost within its realm. I require its energy. It requires my respect. My frequency is integrating. I am particles.#frequency, #Gila, #particles, #Poetry, #respect, #verse Mantra Gila – 5-22-13Moths hover at a safe distance from the orange, smoldering, glow.Cylinder of heat rises, wafting waves of smoke. Juniper. Like myst. Anointing everything it breathes on.Leaves. Moths. Piñon needles. Night. Me.Snatch of Piñon hurried onto the embers. Juniper and Piñon encapsulate stars. Infuse through moon.Nearly full. Casting shadows. Casting light. It can’t hide tonight.Flurry of moths flit above my head. I close my eyes and flit. Gliding. Basking. Enjoying warmth.Laughing with my new friends at our good fortune.I open my eyes. Something is moving in the grass.River. Bubbling. Flowing. Peace. Slow hiss of coals whisper. Crickets. Such mantra.#campfire, #fire, #Gila, #Juniper, #leaves, #mantra, #musings, #New Mexico, #night, #pinon, #Poetry, #verse, #writing These are Innate Understandings? — 11-7-13These are innate understandings that are conditioned out of us, and people are re-learning them.You sense there is a waking up happening. You do not have to be a guru or avatar to understand these things. These are universal laws that are already a part of consciousness. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Here is the live reading from Sunday, Sep. 7. I’m apologizing in advance for the learning curve echo during the guest reading. When one is building something, there are hiccups. This will not happen again. This is a milestone episode, regardless. J. Lashley is a champion for tolerating this. A Prince among men. discord.gg/eQ9HKzgvus This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

From 2010. Also became a movie pitch, as it has a whole thing to it that this story teases. . Still unhit. I have a 1000% movie pitch no-hit record. This is one of the flash stories I’ve written that has evolved into a whole other thing. I have a complete comedy suspense caper script for this story. It’s good for that. If you’re a writer, you should experiment with this method. This is my favorite story. I saved it for the last story in my first book of Flash Fiction.Isabelle walks through the aisle like a ghost. She imagines she’s unseen. She dodges carts, and spins around people. It’s fun being invisible. It’s also fun being anything but invisible. As she glides along the end caps, avoiding children and making faces at their parents, she sees her supervisor, Clancy.She’s lucky Clancy’s had a crush on her since eighth grade. She doesn’t try to lead Clancy into thinking he has a chance, but she does like to take advantage of the privilege it gives her. Clancy asks Isabelle to please stop the improv in the aisles, in front of the customers.Commercial Herschel is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.“Isabelle, c’mon, you know there are cameras all over the place in here. What Am I going to tell corporate?”“Tell them I’m a ghost” She answers.“I really don’t have a choice but to send you home early. You know that, right?” I have to reprimand you and make a report and give you a warning and all that.”“Clock me out at the end of my shift?” Isabelle queries.“You know you can’t ask me to do that.” Just go clock out now and have a nice rest of the day, and I’ll make it as painless as I can in the report. Go on.” Clancy explains.Isabelle waves her hands in front of Clancy’s face as though he can’t see her. He smiles, chuckles and rolls his eyes. She makes her way to the corner of the store and slithers sideways between a couple discussing yogurt. Two kids are standing near the double swinging doors that lead to the employees only section of the store, and she swings them open in front of them as though they were not expecting to see the doors open.In back, Isabelle punches her time card and sits down at the break table. She takes the TV remote and puts on a cartoon. She sits briefly, watching, but soon gets up, obviously restless.She begins going through the employee lockers. Miguel has a trucker hat that reads “42 Express”. She wears it and adjusts a tilt, looking in his the mirror on the inside of the door. Sherry has a waist belt hanging in her locker, but Isabelle wears it over her shoulder like a sash. She continues going through Sherry’s locker and finds a half-eaten candy bar and some bean dip. She covers her mouth and laughs, shaking her head.Next is Randy, who is a pretty large guy. She slowly and carefully starts leafing through his papers and magazines, grimacing as though she’s afraid of what she might find. She sees a couple of gun publications, something that looks like a manifesto. The title reads, “We Know Where this is Going, and it’s Time to Get There”. She stuffs that into her smock pocket, and then bending over to the floor of his locker, takes his muck boots, which are so large she puts them on right over her shoes.Next is Jean’s locker, a nice elderly woman who is kind to everyone, and Isabelle smiles widely as she looks forward to seeing what Jean has. There is a piece of wedding cake in a plastic container which of course Isabelle helps herself to a few bites with the included plastic fork, as she peruses. Hanging on the inside of the door is a lanyard with a bingo dauber, a little flashlight, and a laminated picture of Jean’s Collie Lucky she can’t stop talking about. Isabelle begins to hang the lanyard around her neck but thinks better of it. She wipes the fork clean on her smock, puts what’s left of the cake away, and moves on.Across the room, there’s a mirror on the wall above the counter-top sink. Isabelle admires her outfit. She pulls her hair back and up, under Miguel’s hat. Next she starts going through the various drawers and cupboards. She finds a tray which stores a pile of cheap sunglasses. She finds the biggest frames she can, they’re white, and she wears them. One last time, she adjusts herself in the mirror.She leaves the break room and walks through the stockroom, where she commandeers an unattended shopping cart. Back onto the floor, her stage, she goes. The customers, her audience, and her marks. The muck boots, making suction sounds from her shoes inside them, with each step she takes.Dressed in this outfit, with the attention she’s getting as nourishment, she stops in the pet toy aisle. She takes an assortment of cat toys and dog chew leather and begins putting together a sculpture in her shopping cart. She uses a couple of leashes to strategically hold it in place as she slowly moves the cart toward the front of the store. As she moves along through different departments, she adds measuring cups, a clothes hangers, and a funnel to complete her creation.As she passes through the free sampling demonstrations, she stuffs her face with little pizza squares, some cous cous, a ramekin of sorbet and a couple half-shots of orange vodka.Miguel spots her from a distance and shakes his head and mouths “what’s up?”, gesturing with his shoulders and hands. He furrows his brow and shakes his head. She acts as though she doesn’t know this strange man whose hat she’s wearing.Clancy sees her from across the store and for a moment doesn’t realize who it is. She sees him as well, and realizing he’s not onto her, she picks up a bottle of shampoo and feigns reading the bottle while watching him over the top of her glasses. Before she can find an aisle to disappear into, he recognizes her and hangs his head, then begins pursuit with a perplexed, crinkled face.Clancy walk-runs as fast as he can in her direction, but now she’s actively avoiding him. She hides behind an end cap of laundry hampers, then she takes one and balances it on her cart, over the top of her now eroding sculpture. She can see him through the grated plastic as she tries to elude him.As Isabelle makes a beeline for the front of the store, she begins shedding her costume. First the waist belt sash, then the sunglasses, then the hat. All the items are thrown haphazardly into the cart. She’s hopping on one foot at a time to get the muck boots off and adds them to her collection in the cart.Just as Clancy reaches her, she takes the manifesto Randy was reading and shoves it into Clancy’s chest. “I’m sorry I’m so bored at work” She says, holding the manifesto up against him, gesturing down to it with her eyes. She turns around and walks out of the store.Clancy gathers himself and looks confusedly at the printed document she’s given him. He’s alarmed. He watches her disappear, ghostlike, into the parking lot.The End1,166 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

This was the first Flash Fiction I wrote for my podcast. It is based on a dream I had. I woke up right away and wrote this story at around 3:30 - 4 AM. It was this one that got my wheels turning about doing this every day for a while. I wrote it in roughly 25 minutes, and it has gone through a few brief edits. I had not developed the routine yet. It’s written in first person. I don’t do that very often.Here's what happened.I was in this little town on the west coast of Michigan. It was a really neat little town. I liked it. I'm going to go back someday. My car was broken down. I was walking, and it was bad. The whole hub came off the axle, not just the wheel or the tire; the whole hub came off the axle, and I had to walk.I'm walking down this road with a bag of stuff because I didn't know how long I was going to be walking. It was one of those roads. It was a country road. It's a highway that goes along Lake Michigan. I knew that cars would be passing me, and I knew people would see my car on the side of the road and see me walking. Maybe somebody would pick me up.Otherwise, I was just going to walk. I wasn't going to stick my thumb out or anything, and I didn't. Cars are passing me by, and I'm just moving along. There were cell phone signals, so I made a phone call. I'm looking around as I'm walking, trying to determine things. I knew there wasn't anything close behind me, and it was at least 20 miles before I was going to reach anybody in front of me.I can see there's a slight incline, and I can see ahead of me. I can kind of tell that there's something ahead, either some traffic lights or just something up there, but it was turning twilight. So there wasn't any good light. There weren't any artificial lights. It was just still; the sun was just going down. I'm looking forward as I walk, and then a truck picks me up; a guy pulls over in a pickup truck, an old dude.He says, “Hey, you know you're walking?” Smiling at his dumb joke as he says it.“Yes, I know I’m walking.”He asks, “Is that your car back there?”“Of course, yeah, that's my car.” I saidHe tells me to jump in, and I let him know I’m supposed to go to the gas station up at the next town where they handle wheels.“Oh, I drive past there every day, man; I'll drop you right off in front.” He says."Great.” I said. “I'm going to have to get a tow. I'm lucky right now. I got enough money to get this fixed. I can fix it, and I'll probably just have to stay in town until they get that done. I'm really fortunate right now that I'm in a situation where I can afford something like this."Then this old dude started to tell me things about myself that nobody could know. He asked me where I was working. And I told him I was traveling on the road, because that's normal for me. I work on the road. I find work in a town, and I move there. I do the work, and I move on to the next town. It's just a way of life.He knew stuff about me. He said, “You get a job somewhere, and then things go sour, and you got to move on to the next place.” And I said, “Yeah, that happens. You know, it seems to happen, but I'll find a place soon enough, you know.”Then he says, “People harass you, don't they?”And I said, “Yeah, they do.”“Not only did I have a Faustian bargain,” I said, “I had several Faustian bargains. I'm above average intelligence. I am over six feet tall. I was the kind of person that opportunities tend to find, at least when I was young.”He kept going. “You spend a lot of time helping other people who've had terrible things done to them, don't you? You work for other people's benefit before your own. You do that a lot. Injustice really bothers you. It legitimately bothers you, doesn't it?”And I say, “Yes, it does. And I have done a lot for people who have been completely screwed over. I have been doing that for a long time.”“I know,” he said. “And when something good is on your horizon, it gets sabotaged or intercepted at the last minute. You meet a great lady, and she gets scared off. You get a good job, and it's mysteriously snuffed out, taken away from you. You work on a business, and someone else gets the benefit and the money from all your hard work. You make some new friends, and they suddenly abandon you. Does that sound familiar?”“That is certainly familiar.” I said.He goes on, “Those strangers that glare at you when you're doing your work and minding your own business and smirk at you and make those comments—that happens a lot, doesn't it?”I said, "Yes.”He said, “Those might not be strangers.”He said that there is a war, and it's an old, stupid war that, in the scope of time, is already completed, but they do it anyway. They just keep doing it. He told me it's the creators versus the imitators; the dumb, angry imitation. It's mad. It's mad that it's not real out in that war, the one out there and those other realms.He tells me, “You're somebody,” he said. “You are major, as in, a big kahuna.”I told him, I don't know what you mean. I don't know what you're talking about. And it's really weird that you know all those things about me.“The imitation runs this planet.” He said, “They own this place. You aren't doing squat here, because out there, you beat them. This is their place. You're essentially in prison here, because out there, oh man, I got goosebumps right now thinking about out there and the fact that you're sitting in my car right next to me.”I asked him how he knows all those things about me. “How do you know all that? And what is this thing you're talking about ‘out there’?”He answers in riddles. “I know about you because I see what I see. I see how you carry yourself. I see your eyes. I see your lousy situation, your resolute confidence, and the ease with which you handle this. This is a pebble in your shoe. You are already on to bigger things. You have a lot on your mind. You've got bigger fish to fry.”“Well, I agree with you, sir,” I responded, “that this is a BS situation, and very incompetent people are making decisions for very useful, talented, valuable people. But I'm not sure that makes me a space soldier.”“You're not a soldier. You're some kind of admiral or general, your astral self, your essential self,” he told me. “That's real. You are in a battle, and you are the winner. Glorious, and that's why, here, on their planet, you get messed on so terribly.”I asked him, “How did you arrive at all this?”“I've seen a lot,” he said, “and as I've gotten older, my vision has changed. I have dreams. I travel out there. I've seen these confrontations, and I have felt the way these imitators feel when they think about us. They hate us. We create; they imitate. They cannot create. They aren't connected to life in the way that we are. They are envious. We have the one thing that they resent more than anything.”“Well, okay, what do I give up?” I say. “What is it that they hate about us?”He says. “We hold the creative nature of the universe within our very being; they can never and will never have that, and it makes them irate.”“Wow.” I said, “If that's true, they must be really exacerbated by the really good people doing all the cool things creative people do. It kind of makes sense, in a way.” I said, “I mean, considering the people who control things, it seems if there were an anti-creative force, it would want the kind of world that we have here, and it would be pleased with the kind of people running it.”He smiles, and he says, “They run this. This is their territory. We just live here temporarily. Believe me, you are better off in other places. Believe me, the worst is yet to come for you here.”“Why do you say that?” I said, “That's scary. What are you talking about?”“The worst is yet to come. Because you aren't dead yet. They don't need to keep you around here. They just torment you because they know they can't beat you, they know they can't beat you, and they know they can't have you, so they just get off on hurting you.” He said.“If that's real, those are really weird, dumb people, or whatever they are.” I responded.“Wait, here's the place up ahead now. I’ll pull over here and talk with you a little bit more. You got time?” He goes, “I pass by here every day. I got all the time in the world.”“Look,” I said to him. “You said something earlier about other places. What do you mean? Other places? What other places?”And he said, “Well, we exist in every dimension. This is just your manifestation in this dimension on this planet. If there is a dimension out there, you exist in it, and within the dimensions there's a war and there are territories, and you are currently on enemy territory, but don't worry. You win. You've already won. This is already over.”And so again, I had to—I said to him, “When you say those things, you sound like one of those placating people who tell oppressed people that they're going to have it made in heaven when they die, so they should just continue to work really hard and suffer here on Earth, to work for all the wealthy people, and wait for their reward in heaven.”He said, “Well, it's not a placation; They run in fear of you. On this planet, you're just a mouse, and they're the cat, and they like it like this, but they've already lost it, and they know it. They made stupid decisions that they can't take back. So they're going to enjoy their very brief moment in the sun, because out in that universe, you are jumping up and down on their skulls.”“Very nice meeting you, young man.” He said, “You be careful.”“Thank you so much for the ride.” I said, You're a kind man. “I happen to have a 50 on me; you want it for your troubles?”He said, “Don't worry about that. I was going this way; we’re moving in the same direction. We're good. You don't owe me anything, okay? I guess I'll see you around.” He said.And just as he put his foot to his gas pedal, I told him. “I'll see you on the Pleiadian Approach, Corporal.”The End1,938 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Here are five Stories from a live Discord reading from Sunday, Aug. 31. Clancy’s Cubicle, Uncle Plasma Part 3: The Ride, Gladsome Hill, The Apes, and Visualize Effing Off. Join my Discord channel and read your stories, or just share your passion for storytelling and reading. https://discord.gg/eQ9HKzgvusIt was an eventful Flash August Fiction. Some growth and connections made. I do these live readings most Sundays. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

I had written and recorded this one, and I thought I should rewrite the last paragraph. Sometimes something sticks with you. Sometimes it’s worth it. That’s what happens. I had the ending, and then I overwrote it. So, I fixed it. Preston is assigned to paint a location overnight. It might be two nights, but probably one. He has a cool gig with a company that scales as a national painting company. He hits the road all over the place and paints salons, phone stores, and all kinds of franchise offices. Tonight he was at a News Station. His company had landed a deal for the real estate of a major media operation.He’s in a utility area, loading in his tools, he knows where he’s going to be working. It’s the off camera walls of the studio. He’ll just determine whether he’ll brush and roll, or spray, and then probably get this thing knocked out in a few hours.As he walks down the hallways to get to the studio, Preston is impressed with the portraits of the newsreaders, some of them legends, displayed along the walls. There’s Julie Fallfort, Joey Rider, and legendary Sports Reporter, Dick Toupee. Preston can’t believe this humble job has brought him here.“I almost feel like somebody.” Preston hears himself say, as he stands in the middle of the hallway. Now however, he has to make his way to the studio, to get the work done.Preston surmises just about what he expected. An essentially straightforward brush and roll with some detail work around some rafters and plumbing.“Wow, there's wear it all happens.”He says, he sees the camera placements and the stage, off work hours. He thinks something looks weird. There’s no one sitting at the desk, but he sees legs beneath the desk. He, somewhat spooked, carefully walks closer, bent forward, squinting. He sees legs, they are wrong. They’re the legs of a clown, but there’s no one sitting at the desk.Calling his supervisor this late at night is not an ideal thing, but he knows they assume it must be important if they get a call this late. That’s what Preston does.“What’s the deal, Preston, you’re not having an anxiety attack over nothing again, are you?” The voice on the phone says.“I don’t think so, this is really weird. I hate being here right now. There’s clownpants bro. It’s just sitting at the desk. It’s clownpants under the desk, and nothing from the waist up. It’s just invisible, homestead.”“I don’t understand, what the heck are you saying?” The supervisor says.“I’m saying it’s creepy, bro. It’s like there’s someone there, but they’re not. It’s just clownpants bro. Like I said, it’s clownpants under the desk and nothing from the waist up.”The voice on the phone remains confused, but impatient. “Can you just send me a picture?”Preston points his phone at the desk pants, he gets a shot and fires it up the chain. “You got that big guy?” He asks the phone.“Oh my goodness, you need to get out of there.” His super says. “Look, just go straight back out, you can take your stuff or leave it for now. Let me call and we’ll check in tomorrow.”They hang up, and Preston goes back to the utility area and gets all his things. He’d really rather not come back. He’ll wait to hear from corporate before doing anything.The next morning, Preston is just waking up in a modest Hotel room when gets a call from his super, who had just spoken to the corporate, who spoke to the studio people. They said he could go back to work.Preston asked him, “What did say about what I saw? And the photo?”The super responded, “It is nothing out of the ordinary.”The End600 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

The recording of the live Discord reading from Sunday, August 17, 2025 I read three of my Flash August Fiction Stories from earlier in the month. Uncle Plasma: Part 2, Ballcannons, Mess Free Zone, and The Torrent. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to the finale of Flash August Fiction. This is actually observational prose, but I make the rules around here. Thanks for reading, listening, sharing, liking, and sharing. 31 brand-new stories and podcasts in 31 days. Later today there will be a live reading in my Discord Channel. In the next few days I’ll be recording new intros and send-offs, uploading live reads from my Sunday Discord Storytime, and re-reads of older stories. There will also be new stories.He knows how this ends. He feigns confidence, and accentuates his noble and formidable appearance. He makes his case well, and he does have support, but the best he can do now is take pot-shots at the most vulnerable, and influence the most susceptible and gullible audiences.He no longer hides his crimes. Rather, he lauds them with pride. He promotes lawlessness as morality. The hypnotism of the weak, exposes the strong. The blindness of the silent, exposes the sight of the unpretentious.The cynical seek safety. They feign neutrality. They are predictable, as they cower, and let others do battle. They’ll signal with false virtue for a sense of security. They’ve never known safety, only extortion. This is his base. The shallow, transactional harvest is rewarded with a forged comfort.What is in the heart after irrevocable decisions? Of course there is a sympathy for that victimhood and self-pity. If there is a word for the intersection of regretful and pathetic, but defiant, then that might be that form of sympathy. Continuing into the void after the point of no return may warrant that intersection.He harms the beloved to affront his vanquisher. Punishing vulnerable, the small, the weak in mind, the easily deceived. Openly defiling the young. Normalizing deceit. He has a flickering moment with his likewise and deluded army.But he knows how this ends.The End228 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

This is so corny that it’s corny. It’s OK, sometimes absurd is absurd. And short is short. ONE DAY LEFT OF 31 STORIES AND PODCASTS IN 31 DAYS. What I like to call Flash August Fiction. Here is a link for my discord if you would like to attend a live reading on any Sunday: https://discord.gg/eQ9HKzgvus. Thanks for sharing and liking and the nice conversations. This little storytelling podcast has grown a little bit. All the scary bogeymens were scary. What would they have done if they didn’t have the bogeymens? There would have been nothing to scare them. The people on the team needed to have the people on the other team. And the other team needed the people on that team, and both teams needed the bogeymens. That is what made them teams.The teams had all kinds of numbers and statistics to prove about the bogeymens. They said that all the bad things were because of the bogeymens. All the statistics of both teams, pointed to the other team’s bogeymens. And they were all correct.It made it easy to have specific bogeymens to blame. Blaming bogeymens, was easier than responsibility. The only time the teams ever told the truth, was when they were exposing the lies and the crimes of the other team’s bogeymens.The teams were so distracted by the other team’s bogeymens, that they did not have time to be aware of so many other things that were harming and threatening both their teams, and even all the many many many people who were not on their teams.The televisions were paid by the people who made all the bogeymens, so if the televisions discussed the bogeymens, they would lose their money. The televisions were forbidden from explaining the problems of the bogeymens. They were only allowed to read things about the phenomenon of the teams and their bogeymens. The news was the reactions the teams had to the other team’s bogeymens, not the reason for the bogeymens, or who was behind the bogeymens, because bogeymens wrote the words the televisions said.The teams became exhausted from fighting the bogeymens, and then one day, both teams were vanquished. When it was all over, and both the teams had expended themselves because of their obsession with the bogeymens, it ruined everything for everyone, and the only things left, were bogeymens. The scary bogeymens won.The End325 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

2 Days Left in Flash August Fiction | Ease Into the Week, Live Longer | It’s Friday, but this is a Monday story. The simple pleasures on the way to work at 5AM is what makes it bearable. Thanks for reading, listening, sharing, liking, and sharing. I’m glad you are here, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.The simple pleasures on the way to work at 5AM is what makes it bearable, especially Mondays. Burt, walking alone down the avenue sidewalk, is illuminated by the shoddy streetlights and the buzzy signs that some businesses leave on overnight. Cars on the avenue are sparse, it’s mostly delivery trucks.He gets up nice and early, so he can take his time getting to work, and by the time he gets there, the sun is up and he’s wide awake. Burt approaches the six-corners intersection and turns left. There is the little shop where he gets his coffee. “Smokes – Candy – Soda – Coffee” The sign reads, in intermittent red and blue lettering, on a white background.Burt nods to the guy he sees in there every morning. Burt has lived in the neighborhood for five years, he sees this guy almost every day he’s alive, and doesn’t know his name. The coffee is always ready, it’s fresh this early in the morning, and it’s strong. There is real half-and-half in the little sealed, plastic ramekins. From head to toe, Burt looks like he’s going to work. From his hard hat, to his work boots, it’s a stereotypical look, quite.Burt mixes his coffee, taking a look at all the usual things he never buys, but once in a while a pair of the cheap work gloves, if they ever have the extra large size. He nods again to his best stranger-friend, who characteristically wishes him a good day at work. Burt drops a couple singles on the counter, slurps his coffee, and looks both ways as he exits the little shop.The intersection, to his right, radiates a dull shimmer from the streetlight. At this time of morning the buzz and click of the switch on the light can be heard. To his left he can see the cloud of misty light from downtown, and the predawn swell of the highway overpass two blocks down. Across the street is the little triangle of the six-corners, where the subway entrance is, and the little newspaper shack, that, like a clock, is right on time opening up.The shack attendant is cutting open the bundles of papers and magazines and stacking them in their places. He sees Burt and points to the counter. There they are, the fresh baked good the attendant brings every morning. They’re from a place a few blocks away, and they’re still warm from the oven. It’s a really, very tough call. There are bear claws, custard filled donuts with chocolate icing, cinnamon rolls, and Burt chooses an oversize croissant with maple butter saturating the interior. He slaps a five down onto the counter and slides it halfway under the bakery tray so it doesn’t blow away. He takes a pat of butter, and adds it to his coffee.The subway entrance is right there, and Burt can hear the train that’s going in his direction, but he doesn’t care, that’s why he gets up early. He takes a seat on the bench with his coffee and danish. The next one will be by in about 20 minutes, and it’s an express. That’s his ride.The sun is teasing the sky as Burt hears the next train. He drops his refuse into the bin, bending down to touch his toes and raising his arms to stretch. He takes the stairs, pays the fare, and by the time he gets down there, the train is pulling in. Burt gets into the hind car and sits in back, facing the rear.It’s dark, and it’s just 500 feet before the subway rises from the tunnel to the elevated track. As the sunlight is beginning to overtake the dawn, Burt sees this city from a corridor of buildings on either side of him, with reflections of glass, and intervals of intersections. The views down each street are little worlds unto themselves.At the next platform, the announcement is made that this train will run express to its final stop on the line. Burt watches the city roll off as the train vibrates, soothing him, taking him to a sleepy suburb. He drops his hat over his eyes, slides his feet out, and falls into a hypnagogic liminal doze. From this vantage he sees all manner of random images and scenes. With every jostle of the train, he enters another chapter. The orange dawn wetting his visions in sepia as his eyelids, sporadically give way, and close again with the vacillations.Feedback from the speakers wake him as he has reached the end of the line. Exiting the train he again stretches out and does a knee bend. The platforms are filling up as the typical crowd smashes their bodies into the day.Two blocks from his job site, Burt leaves the train station behind and enjoys this serene, near city suburban main street. The small grocery on the corner has just opened. Burt buys a single banana and has it swallowed as he finishes peeling it.There is a noise ordinance to disallow any loud construction activity before seven AM. The labor crew is setting up some corners, a few of the bricklayers are getting into the mud. Burt prepares himself with a face shield and canister mask, an apron that covers down to his boots, some heavy gloves, and hearing protection. He looks up at the town clock tower, and he has about thirty seconds.A few of the other guys are watching him, laughing and shaking their heads, they know what time it is. The foreman and the supervisor break from their conversation, smiling, and turn to see him.Burt lowers his mask and raises his face shield as the second hand of the clock reaches the twelve.Burt Howls and screams at the top of his lungs, “GOOOD MOOOORNNING SUUUNNSHIIINE!”And he cranks up his stone cutting chop saw, revving it loudly, and purposefully. Passersby residents are amused at the event.Burt lowers the spinning, ravenous blade, slowly into the stone.“Just like butter.”The End1005 Words. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

Counting down to the last day of the marathon. 3 After today. Thanks for your participation in sharing, liking, the great conversation at Substack and X, and for sharing. There are people who will do anything for money, and there are people who hire them. They really do believe in their own self-aggrandizement and presumption of authority to violate you. It’s mental illness, and it comes up in some of my other stories, like Mitchell’s Mission, Mitchell’s Malice, and Deep State Trash.Millie could see on her doorbell camera that someone had approached her home. She gets an alert when she’s away from the house when someone is there. There wasn’t anything happening at her house, she was not expecting a delivery, and she couldn’t recognize the person. They used her walkway, stayed off the lawn and then a few minutes later, they left. She didn’t think much of it, really. She would have known if they used the doorbell, they didn’t. She thought that was odd. Millie continued about her business away from the house. She had the usual things to do on a Tuesday, so she’d be away for a couple of hours. Upon arriving to her house, bringing in some things from her grocery shopping and whatnot, she couldn’t believe what she saw. She was in her living room, looking around, and there had been a break-in. This was the worst, creepiest feeling she’d ever had.It was far worse than the feeling she had the first time she had this happen to her, at her apartment, 20 years earlier. In that instance, anything of value that she had, and also some personal items that seemed more like cruelty. A few of her favorite kitchen things, some of her notebooks of writing, her work, and notes on some volunteering she was doing, and a couple of family photos were also taken in that instance. This was different. As she stood there, in the center of the room, not only did she realize that nothing was taken, but that every item that had been stolen in the 20 years earlier break-in, from the other location, had been left. This is the worst feeling of violation she’s ever experienced. Someone is toying with her. They are aware of her life, her whereabouts, and they are attempting to take a position of emotional control. Millie immediately calls the police, and after a few hours they give her some, but not many details. A neighbor's doorbell camera also had the person in their view, and the vehicle they drove was visible. They’ll be checking with other neighbors to see if there are any close enough to get the license plate, but they will comb the public cameras in the vicinity for the car. The police surmise that the person probably disabled the alarm when they came to the front door. There are jamming devices that can do that. Then, they used the back alley to enter the property, coming inside through the back door of the garage and entering the home there. “What kind of parents, raise a child to become an adult that will do things like this?” Millie asks, aloud.The End451 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

It’s another Chronicle of the Last Gas Station today. Some thinking about meditation, and otherwise energy related things. Thanks for the sharing and the liking. I wish I could turn the likes I’m getting on Substack into shares. Hint hint. It wouldn’t bother me at all if you see my posts on X and Substack and not only liked them, but also shared them. That would be OK with me. You have my permission.Gill was on the road with his daughter. He had a lot to sort out. He was a good guy. He had not screwed up so badly that it should be so difficult for them. He felt a road trip, for some reason, would be the thing to do.Anyone could see there is a lot on his mind. Even simple things, like stopping to get gas, when Gill stands by the pump, peering around, eyes questioning, and defensive, indications that Gill could settle down and relax.It’s not that he’s up to something, but it’s the kind of thing where his demeanor could attract something. Antler Pestle could see it from the fire house, all the way across Duck Road.Inside the shop, Gill is looking around for some breakfast. He asks Paul, who, as per usual, has the morning shift.“You guys have any of those little breakfast sandwiches?”“We don’t.” Paul says. “We have a deal with The Establishment down the road. They make our sandwiches and all that, but they don’t open till ten on Sunday. It’s not usually busy here this time of year on Sundays. I’m really sorry.”“I don’t want to feed her total junk food.” Gill says.“I think there are at least some apples, maybe some other fresh stuff in that end fridge, then maybe some cheese. We have local cheese. That could be a cool breakfast.” Paul suggests.Gill grabs three apples and a half pint of blackberries from the fridge, then finds some cheese in the next door over.“This is awesome.” Gill says, as he drops the items at the counter and gets himself a coffee.“Country livin’” Paul retorts, as he hands Gill some napkins while taking the payment.“We can use the bench and table out to the side here?” Gill asks.“You sure can.” Says Paul.Gill leaves and calls to his daughter.“C’mon darlin’, let’s have a little breakfast, grab a couple of paper plates from the back seat. Bring your water bottle.”Gill slices the apples and cheese, and his pre-teen daughter puts down her gaming toy thing, and stands up on the top of the bench.“Look at this little town, it’s so little, it’s like the toy gas station little town Lego place I had when I was little, there’s even a little fire station.” She says.“Yep, a lot of people live like this, get down from the bench, what’re you doing? Sit down, c’mon.” Gill says.As they eat their breakfast, Antler takes a slow walk over from the firehouse. It’s not something he does much, he usually lets people come to him. He feels compelled.“That is a smart breakfast.” Antler says. He’s wearing his firehouse shirt. Dark blue, red patches, tucked in neatly. He stands about 5-6 feet away from the table.“You’re a fireman!” The little kid announces.“That’s true. 100%, I am a fireman.” Said Antler.Gill said. “I’ll bet you don’t see much work around here, that must make it pretty easy.”“Well, yep, that’s why it’s a volunteer situation. I’m the only one with a stipend, I look after the firehouse and the equipment, and live there. It’s pretty relaxing.”“I could use some relaxing.” Gill says.“Absorption.” Antler says.“Absorption?” Maybe that’s a word for it.” Gill Replies.Antler goes on. “Getting really still, 100% quiet, releasing everything and even taking a little nap. Let the stress go, maybe say a little prayer, but then receive. Let your next move come to you, ask ‘what have I been missing’? And then just let your next move come to you.”“I wish it was that easy.” Gill replies.Antler says: “Once you get into that state of receiving like that, you’ll want to stay there all the time. Just really still, and deliberate, and on purpose. Mornings will never be the same.”The little one pronounces the word slowly. “Absorption, dad.”The End659 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

In this Flash Fiction Story, I use the circumstance and character from another story to continue the narrative and the business related conversation. 5 More days of Flash August Fiction. Harry feels like the breaking weather has saved his life. There has been excessive heat for a week, and it’s really killing his chances to stay on top of his work. On the one hand, the grass and all the plants he takes care of suffer, and he has to struggle to keep up watering them. On the other hand, due to the heat, their growth is slowed, and they are easier to catch up to.The year has gone pretty well with Harry. The little town he’s a part of now has somewhat warmed up to him. No one can argue that he doesn’t work hard or that his work is lacking. It’s a pretty good situation, and as much as Harry likes routine, this type of work is not as routine as he expected.Things are always shifting and moving. There is a lot of troubleshooting involved. Sometimes a contract goes swimmingly, it’s all just repetition, and it’s over in no time, and other times there’s something out of the ordinary. This normally rote behavior morphs into two or three new jobs out of a usually mundane process.A positive that comes from this is that Harry has accumulated a lot of new skills, and has either purchased, or rented enough equipment, that he has become proficient in all sorts of physically oriented, and tool related work.It puts Harry in an interesting situation. What does he want to do? Does he want to expand his business into more of a general handyman type thing, where he has lots of work, and he’s more busy, but he might have to work 40+ hours a week? He likes the work. Work is not punishment to Harry. He enjoys helping others and trading money for his time, materials, and skills. That’s OK with him. He’s quite proud of his abilities and for the way he’s chosen to use his time. He’s not worried about appearances, or what puerile, lazy people think about working people who produce actual value in life.It so happens, that some circumstances lined up with one of his contracts, that one of his clients has a dormant property that has some potential, and he wants to sell. They have been talking about it around town with neighbors, and one of the neighbors that also does business with Harry, mentioned that Harry might be a good person to talk to. The client with the property thought that was something he should have considered on his own, and he contacted Harry.Harry, being someone who, in his earlier life, was familiar with business and Real Estate contracts, explained a scenario to the owner. He described the way that he, if he were interested, would want to do business, but made it clear that he was not sure if he wanted to.Harry explained that, at the owner’s materials expense, Harry would go into the property and prepare the property for sale, based on the current appraisal estimate. This is for the purpose of being able to determine how much work is going to be needed before and after the sale, but also, to have a baseline for the owner, and for Harry to decide what is worth doing.Then, Once the house was updated and brought up to higher standards, the property would be re-appraised. Now, Harry can decide, based on that second appraisal, whether he wants to get involved in the property. If he decides it’s a good idea, then he will take control of the note with the contingent to pay the owner the value of the first appraisal, and where Harry retains the value added from the second appraisal. This way, Harry takes zero money out of his pocket, but makes a profit from his hard work of upgrading the home, and the owner gets the amount they would have gotten, if they had sold the house as is in the first place.If Harry does not like the second appraisal number, then the owner can sell the property at the new appraisal rate, and pay Harry a percentage of the sale, for doing the work of upgrading the house. This gives the owner the security of knowing that he will make back his materials upgrade investment, and can also compensate Harry for his time and expertise, all while the owner makes his profit.The other option for the owner is to get all sorts of real estate and banking people into his business. It’s a choice a lot of people make. Sometimes, however, business can be done between citizens, with little involvement from outside influences. Harry hopes the owner chooses to work directly with him and to forego all the traditional models. Regardless of what the decision is, Harry has radically low risk.The End790 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe

This is a diminutive tome, and it’s somewhat momentous to me because It required no spelling or grammar changes. That’s neat. Seven more days of Flash August Fiction. I’m lengthening my strides and thinking I’ll go in head first. If you have missed a few stories, go on back and check a couple out. They’re short.There are a thousand things to be thankful for on Gladsome Hill. It’s a place where people take stock of the good things. When a person visits Gladsome Hill, they tend to focus on their blessings, their better memories, and the lessons that they have been granted in their lives.Frank takes his canvases up there to paint. He paints what he sees. The lovely little town where he grew up. His memories as a University student. The love of his life, Rebecca, and their four children.There’s more, though, because from the hill, one can see the small town of Gladsome, appearing through the mist of morning. Frank paints the small town as he sees it, but he adds to the painting, the likeness of his old dog, Beacon, overseeing the town from Frank’s vantage point.Greta takes her notebooks up the hill. When she’s on Gladsome Hill, she does her most positive work. She has a tendency to let the world get her down, and it starts to show in her writing. When she feels her expressions are becoming a touch morose, she goes up to Gladsome Hill, to get a more balanced perspective.Today she wrote a lovely story, about her Middle School teacher, Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller was the first adult to recognize Greta’s love for writing. She was very encouraging, and she was a huge inspiration to Greta.Toby is a young athlete. He has great hopes, and his abilities are definitely on par with his goals. He comes from a family with sad, violent parents and jealous siblings. It can be very difficult for him to remain motivated.He comes to Gladsome Hill in order to be away from the mental illness of his living situation, and to focus. Today, he is doing all of his stretches and deep breathing. Then he’ll do visualization drills. He’ll go straight to his competition from the hill, this way there will be no interference from the non-wellness of the house he lives in.Gladsome Hill has this effect on people. It’s a place that seems protected from the ills of the world. It appears to be what the people have determined.The End364 Words This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit commercialherschel.substack.com/subscribe