As Ricky Would Say…

March 15, 2012

I got some ‘splainin’ to do.

So my short story (flash fiction) fell short of what I was hoping for. And that’s okay. It’s not good but at least I tried. I’ll get better.

It was rushed and put together poorly. Maybe I was trying to do too much in such a short space. Maybe I didn’t do enough. I’m not really sure, but I’m open to your opinion.

In my own defense I should say that this is not the story I intended to share with you yesterday. Yesterday’s story was … wow… I didn’t even know what I was thinking. So I bailed and gave you what you saw. And what you saw yesterday was just 10 times better than what you could have got.

At least I learned the wonderful skill of knowing when to bail. And I learned that it doesn’t bother you as much to throw away a shorter work than a little longer one.

Tomorrow will be a better day. Spring break begins here. A precious week of no work that I WILL waste away. But tomorrow I will post something breathtaking.

Really.

You’ll be flabbergasted.

D.A.

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Sunny Sunday

March 4, 2012

It direct contrast to what the title is, I should mention that I was woken up by a storm this morning. I have a metal roof so it is significantly louder than what you might expect. The noise was almost like the sound of thousands of pennies in a cardboard box that are sliding around. Also, the thunder helped to wake me. And the lightning. And the whipping winds that kept the plants outside of my window cry out in pain.

Rarely do I wake up in the middle of storms, but when I do, I usually awake in a panic. Not because I hear plants scream my name in pain, but it just seems like the world is ending. And when it’s 5 a.m. and still dark outside, it’s almost like the earth is just getting the jump start on you. When we sleep we usually expect the weather to sleep as well.

Stupid weather…

:::too-low-to-understand-grumble:::

I always get a little jazzed up because of rainfall. My heart rate increases. Sometimes I start to feel clammy. I usually have a knee jerk reaction to look out a window and inquire what destruction is happening outside. (I also pulled out the old computer and looked at the radar to make sure that there wasn’t some tornado hiding outside of my door.)

But this morning I was super tired, and went right back to sleep despite my increased heart rate and clammyness.

Weird stuff.

***

Changing gears here:

So this is the seventh post I’ve made in a row. Yay for me. This is probably the first time I’ve successfully attempted and completed this little achivement in several months. (I’m guess early Fall or late Summer was the last time).

Why is this an “achievement”?

3 Reasons:

1. I’ve been pretty busy since I got hired in the fall. I’ve always wanted to make sure that I’m writing, but I’ve also grown to enjoy trying to type up something that somebody is going to read later. It’s something I really enjoy and I have felt like I’ve neglected that for a long period of time.

2. My ability to keep up a good pace on this thing may be a sign that I’m officially adjusted to the workload that I have week by week. It’s hard to really adjust to things, and I think I’ve overcome that hurdle. Now I just have to make sure that the work I do isn’t in vein…

3. It’s just hard to write everyday.

One thing I learned over and over again since middle school was the idea of creating or breaking a habit. I was always told it take “at least” 21 days to create a habit. 28 days is reccomended, but 21 can usually create it.

Writing is something that I’ve always wanted to be apart of my daily life. So, now that I have the venue to make this a common occurance I should utilize this as often as possible.

New goal: 1 Post a day throughout the month of March. 

Considering that today is the 4th, I’ve already gotten those days done. So…yay me again. That’s 27 more days for consecutive posts. Aren’t you excited?

What will I write about? I have no idea. What the benefit of doing this? Not totally sure, but it’s a short term goal that I think can be accomplished and may boost my confidence.

Thrifty Thursday

March 1, 2012

So, yesterday I ended up filming a very out of left field thing for a churchy…thingy…

Did any of my wonderful ideas of sock puppets and fine lady mustaches make their way onto film?

No… No they did not. But it wasn’t for lack of  trying. I pitched those ideas so hard it made me look like Billy Mays. I even tried to sell those sock puppets in 11 different ways. Still…nothing.

But I did come up with some really simple idea that involves breaking apples in half with your bare hands.

Will it be funny? I honestly have no idea. But it was a lot of fun acting like an idiot for the better part of 5 hours.

That’s right. I said 5 hours. Let me give you a breakdown on what we did for this thing.

 

3:30 – Arrive at church and try to come up with an idea.

4:30 – Find a hidden costume room in a weird attic above the baptistery. (Sounds like it belongs in a horror movie)

4;45 – Another partner joins group.

5:15 – Kick around more ideas.

5:20 – Come up with very weak idea and pretend it’s the greatest idea ever.

5:30 – Justify crazy idea with church related material.

5:32 – Pitch idea to head pastor. He accepts.

5:40 – Grab camera and find classroom.

6:00 – Go buy 6 apples…

5:44 – 8:28 – Plan/improvise/direct/write/act out in sketch.

8:32 – Remember that I am an adult.

 

For the first 2 hours it really was coming up with an idea. And this whole experience has really made me wonder how writers for talk shows and comedic T.V. shows pull this off all the time. Really. How do you just sit in a room and put funny on paper? That’s a pretty demanding task. Let alone, you have to do it so much and in such a short period of time, it really is a feat.

D.A.

Mundy Monday

February 27, 2012

Goal for this week: WRITE A POST FOR EACH DAY OF THE WEEK.

Secondary goal for this week: GIVE ALL THOSE POSTS ALLITERATIVE TITLES.

So I found out something about myself today. I’m like a pickle jar.

Now here comes the very complicated explanation of what that actually means. I’ll also be sure to not directly tell you, but only provide you with a short story and follow that up with me freaking out about the story in a fairly scatterbrained manner. Okay?

Here’s the scene. I’m playing a game on the internet (using my time wisely) and I get a call on the phone from my father. He’s just wanting to ask me a few things on some random topics. He also mentions to me that I have a cousin that has a blog.

I tense as I hear the word. NO I think to myself. THERE CAN’T BE ANOTHER. WHAT IF THEY FIND ME?

“Oh yeah?” I said, acting like I didn’t really understand these foreign words. “That’s nice.” I tried to make sure my voice was level.

“Yeah, it is,” he said. “She writes very well. You should check it out.”

I commented that I would check it out sometime. We said our goodbyes and he went off think everything was all hunky-dory.

As I hung up I immediately typed it in and checked it out.

I hawked down every pixel on that blog. Every. Single. One.

And to be fair, it really was a nice little thing she had made. I hope the best for her. But it’s one of those fancy upgraded WordPress blogs that you pay so much for a domain name and other features.

Oh no…

Not only is she blogging…she’s in my neighborhood. Us Bancrofts seem to have similar taste in our blogging preferences.

Now I feel a little…cooped up.

Why?

Well that’s because I keep this blog a secret from every person I actually know. I don’t want them to know. I don’t even want them to suspect that I may or may not have an online affiliated hobby. I don’t even want them to know I know what a blog is….

This is the point where you start to question my sanity, and rightfully so. A normal person should not feel weird at all right now. Oh, somebody I know has a blog. No biggie. Those are normal thoughts.

But for me this is different. For me this little splotch on the interwebs is my person sanctuary. It’s a relief from the world. It’s a place where I can put my thoughts on electronic paper and file them away. Hey, I might even get some people to comment on those ideas I share.

I can practice writing  and feel safe…

So, in my own messed up way, this is almost an attack on my safe place.

I’m imagining a field of full of colorful wildflowers and a great big oak tree with branches so low you can hop up and sit on them. The summer breeze would ruffle your clothes and weave throughout your bare toes as you relax. life is good.

Now imagine a Transformers battle taking place while you rest. Yeah, that’s what i’m talking about.

So, how am I like a pickle jar? 

Well, this place is still a secret. STILL. Despite everything my ego wants from me.

I kind of secretly want recognition for my kind-of-sort-of-mildly-entertaining-place-of-residence-on-the-internet. I have a fantasy of building this place up into some very popular internet page and some of my friends and family stumble across it and find themselves very amused. Then they read more and more and realize that this D.A. fellow sounds a lot like …

:::gasp:::

Then they immediately phone me and I try to act all casual. “Nah, it’s not me, but i’ve seen that site before.” I say, hoping to blow off their suspicions.  “Yeah, I read some of his books. They’re pretty funny/thoughtful/well written.”

Then they begin a compulsive investigation of myself and how I get my money. Since my blog and susequent writings have become so popular and I’ve been published many times I will no longer need to work, they will start to wonder why I stopped teaching. All I seem to do is sit in my house all day and play video games. (Maybe I’ll claim I made some good investments in some major companies on the stock market.)

Then one day they will provide me with the documented evidence of my workings. They will point the finger at me and say “Your are D.A. Bancroft!” I will lower my head as if in defeat. The game has been lost.

But I still won.

Yes, a big dichotomy. I want recognition. I want invisibility. Kind of reminds me of this guy…

I guess I should explain who this is…

This the The Grand Galactic Inquisitor. He is a giant humanoid that seemingly has a mastery over time and space, but he is also trying to observe things while hoping people just ignore him. Maybe simply can’t do such a thing…so he screams at the top of his voice box “IGNORE ME!”.

Okay, okay. Maybe I’m blowing this whole thing out of perspective a little bit…

I guess if people found out who I am…it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. And I’m sure my family would give about zero and a half craps about what I write on here. My friends my give three fourths of a crap.

My point still stands. This is a place for me. Just me trying to do my thing… whatever that may be.

And I’m not going to apologize for blowing that whole thing up…

Didn’t you want to read something dramatic and entertaining? I’m trying to do that for you. Don’t you kind of wish you could watch my words as I slip into a mental breakdown? That would be outrageously entertaining.

Maybe I would start to really believe I AM D.A. Bancroft. I start becoming… a new person. I speak with more certainty. I use bigger words. I start wearing a sweater all the time. Creepy stuff.

I mean…that would be entertaining… right?

But for now…I’ll just keep the lid on this whole thing. Just like that pickle jar.

D.A.

P.S. Just realized that jars of jelly are much more difficult to open. So…reread this entire thing, but substitute the word pickle with jelly.

Busy Bee

February 22, 2012

I AM BUSY BEE! (And yes, I meant that in a singular sense. As in, I am the one and only, The Mighty, Busy Bee)

Okay, I’m sort of busy. And I’m not a bee at all. (Though I do sometimes hum…which is almost like buzzing)

I have been writing…

Wow. Seems weird to write that.

I have been writing…

Yup, still strange.

Anyway, like I mentioned previously, I have begun writing what will become my first novel. The first chapter (which is where I am) is going to be all chock full of crazy little things that will, hopefully, interest my reader enough to continue. Still, I’m having concerns about the whole “first line” issue.

In my previous attempts at writing (as seen here on my little blog here) I have always tried to open up with an interesting sentence. But I feel like this is a little bit much. Like a gimmick or something. Maybe it should only be used in a short story setting?

Yes, I know I shouldn’t worry about it too much because, hey, that’s what editing is for. Knowing this, I hold the opinion that this kind of thing really shapes what the opening scene of my novel will be about. If I do a “cold” open, that could really drop the reader into an exciting place, or it could put them in a place and leave them confused. If I open with some exposition, it could be pretty boring.

Decisions, decisions…

Oh, you have an opinion to share here? Then please do so at the bottom.

And another thing.

So, you know how you read a novel and sometimes you get one of these neat little… I dunno what to call it… “bonus chapter”?

Let me explain.

You’re reading about your main character all the time. And if not, most of the time. Maybe you give your other minor characters some perspective in your story and it keeps the flow interesting. But have you ever read one of those chapters that seems to… not fit…but totally fits?

IF YOU DON”T WANT TO RUIN A COOL LITTLE PART OF THE BOOK “THAT HIDEOUS STRENGTH” THEN DO NOT READ THE NEXT PARAGRAPH!!!

:::SPOILERS!:::

Let’s look at the Ransom Trilogy for a second here…In the book “That Hideous Strength” you are always following Ransom himself or the antagonist(s). But there is one really strange exception. You get to read as the elephant/rhino/beast (it’s been a while since I’ve last read this) as it stomps and destroys everything in it’s path. It’s completely awesome and completely unnecessary. But it was this wonderful change of pace in the book.

Are things like this safe to put in a book? Are the only useful in the skilled hands of an experienced writer? Are they necessary to keep people interested in the overall plot of a book?

You tell me…

D.A.

Tell Me What To Do!

February 16, 2012

This weekend will be my first full weekend in 3 weeks. It will also be a long one.

I’m looking at the precious 72 hours as a real opportunity to do something special. I would come up with a cool plan myself, but I’ve already used up all my good ideas and inspiration this week. So YOU need to tell me what to do.

What would you recommend? Should I…

  1. Go camping?
  2. explore a city I’ve never been to before?
  3. Eat a two pound BBQ pulled pork sandwich?
  4. Begin a Pez collection?
  5. Workout to the song “You’re the Best Around” by Joe Esposito?
  6. Shave my head?
  7. Clean out a neighbors gutters?
  8. Go see a doctor to receive a full colonic irrigation?
  9. Go rent a car and tell everybody about my disdain for the company because they “only had a compact”?
  10. Finish my lamp?
  11. Go bowling and bowl 3 consecutive games of exactly 156?
  12. Try out for a professional soccer team?
  13. Perform my own rendition of ‘One Flew Over the Cockoo’s Nest’ in a city park?
  14. Learn to weave baskets?
  15. Grow a beard overnight and then enter a beard contest?
  16. Flash mob in a mall?
  17. Buy a new towel?
  18. Rent a tent for a large outdoor event?
  19. Clean the undercarriage of my car?
  20. Sleep?

Yeah, those are just a few things I thought up but I’m positive you can come up with better.

So help me out. What should I do?

D.A.

I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to pull this off, but I’m going to try an make all of it on it’s separate page.

This means this page may be under construction for a while, but do me a solid and ignore it.

It’ll keep the Christmas cheer at a maximum.

I should also point out that I will unveil the story using a normal post the will take you to the first page of your story. Then you will click hyperlinks within those pages to choose which path you want to take.

Confused? It’s okay, I am too. Just go with it and keep encouraging me to get it done before the fat man comes falling down your chimney.

That is all. Carry on.

D.A.

Some Days Just Require Action

September 9, 2011

Maybe it’s just Fridays in general, but today was a real tough one.

At the end of today I felt like I had been wading through marshes filled with molasses while having a root canal. There was nothing very pleasant about the day at all.

I had 3 different labs to do today. I even made sure these lined up and happened on the same Friday. Why? Because it seemed like a really good idea at the time. Then I actually had to do the labs with my kids…

It wasn’t the lab setting up that was the hard part, but the constant requests to use the bathroom and constant “Mr. Bank-croft” or “Mr. Uhmmmm…” as they raise call out for me to explain a question to them for the 4th time. Come on guys, I have done a pretty good job on learning your first and last names, the least you can do is remember my one last name. It’s not like you have 74 teachers’ names to worry about.

But like I said…maybe it’s just Fridays.

The point is I really needed to get away from it all. Even if it was just for a little while. A little “me” time would do me well. I also stayed behind at school really late yesterday, so I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to.

So, I packed up after school and left. I decided to drive 30 minutes to my favorite comic shop and just geek it up for a little while.

Did that. Now what?

I’m not sure if what I did next was a sad thing or a good thing. I went to a restaurant and had a meal. By myself.

Why could that be seen as sad? Well, I’m just a guy eating alone trying to not spill anything on his tie. A guy that doesn’t have somebody to talk to. Nothing to laugh about. Nobody to share a smile with. Just me, my food, and a few restaurant employees. Not to menntion it’s a Friday night and I look like I’m an office worker trying to get a lunch in on a Tuesday afternoon.

Why could it be a good thing? I had been surrounded by dozens of people all day and I was through with that business. I felt great. I liked the idea of sitting (I was actually on my feet all day). I just leaned back and relaxed. I didnt’ care if somebody was with me. I might do it more often now that I think about it.

(Side note: My tie survived the meal.)

After that I went to a very large book store and just… did nothing. I perused and searched. I looked and read. I picked up and put back.

Annnnd I bought a few books…

Don’t worry, I actually started reading one of them and have already put down the first 100 pages. So I don’t expect this to be any real burden on me or my reading list fiasco.

The book?

On Writing by Stephen King.

Why this book?

Well, a few reasons really.

1. I’ve read excerpts of this book before. Especially a small part where he writes about how one article he wrote early in his life was edited by somebody right in front of him. He claimed it changed his writing style/career forever. This little piece has always stuck with me and now I can say I posses it and have read it in a legal way.

2. I have a teacher friend who has taught high school English and Literature courses. She claimed that King’s On Writing has helped a few of her students. Hey, she even had a lot of classroom copies of the book. Which is kind of scary considering how much cursing there is in the book. But that’s besides the point.

3. A nice internet stranger I met on here on WordPress seems to mention it at least once every two weeks. Since I appreciate how she writes, I definitely took her subliminal recommendation into consideration.

4. I want to be a better writer. So I figured reading advice/thoughts by one of the most popular authors to put pen to paper in the past 50 years deserves at least a little attention.

What will I gain from the reading experience? I dunno. Maybe a lot. Maybe none at all. At least I’m really enjoying this read.

Alright, it’s beddy bye time,

D.A.

That’s Right

July 11, 2011

I did it. I took me nearly 3 weeks, but I did it.

I finally got another short story written and finished. I even felt good enough about it that I could show all of you.

I would love to hear any comments you may have about it. And just in case you don’t know what I’m talking about, you can find that short story right here.

Here’s a little check-up on how my writing has taken shape during this project:

1. I started using dashes (-) quite a bit more. I think they help a reader see a sudden stop of thought or dialogue. It’s mostly there for effect, with no real literary use behind it. Also, I’m still not sure what the “rules” are for this, but I’m using them how I feel is appropriate.

I don’t think I used them so much that they are aggravating for a reader but if they ever become overused or used inappropriately I’m sure you’ll let me know.

2. I think, for a long time, I haven’t been as cautious on checking my spelling as I should be. I’ve just trusted this odd word processor of sorts that WordPress gives you, which is questionable at times. So I decided that I should look at words twice even if there is no red squiggly line. (squiggly was one of those I had to check, BTW).

I soon found out that I’ve been misspelling the words “minute” and “definitely” for quite some time.

How embarassing!

Unless, of course, they went unnoticed. Then huzzah for me because I pulled one over on you.

Actually, I think these words are commonly misspelled. So I don’t feel too embarrassed.

(Actually, it’s your job, internet people, to identify those mistakes and troll me for it. So you’ve just missed out on your opportunity!)

(Still, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of other opportunities.)

3. I tried thinking of a story before I thought of any characters. And that panned out pretty well. I think my problem with the clown story was that I was too concerned with trying to make an interesting character. That prevented me from focusing on an important story.

Now, I know some of you who have written longer pieces of work will want to remind me that characters need to be very deeply written. This allows the reader to experience things that relate to them in understandable ways. It also makes a simple story much more entertaining. And I agree with these ideas.

Well, I agree with a catch. For longer forms of writing this may be true, but short stories don’t really lend themselves for character development on a very deep scale. (I could be wrong in this.) Short stories really need to grab a reader’s attention early, and have an interesting story that will carry for the moment. And the moment is all you really have. Short stories that take place over multiple settings and multiple times seems like it would be too hard to achieve using only 2000 words or so.

Maybe I’m looking at this a weird way. Let’s shift focus, shall we?

What if my short stories aren’t really short stories at all. What if they are the first chapter of a book?

Now, I feel comfortable saying that I am setting up characters for potential change, but I’m not changing how they think and feel. I’m introducing them and then I’m setting them loose on the world that wrought them. Usually, I’m just presenting them with a problem and they begin a process of trying to figure it, which is what I consider entertaining.

So, maybe my short stories are really nothing more than beginning chapters for books. They usually introduce characters, present a problem, and allow for life changing things to happen.

The whole messy ball of fun gets rolling, if you will.

And I’m okay with that.

4. I’m not very good at “forcing” stories out. You can tell this when I don’t post a story, nearly 3 days after I said I would release a story. I wasn’t so busy that there was no way I could write a story. I just didn’t know what the story was going to be about. Somehow, though, I managed to think of a (somewhat) entertaining story two nights ago. I immediately began writing.

What resulted was a story that I felt was fairly original (now watch me find out Stephen King wrote this exact same story 30 years ago.) I’m pretty happy with the outcome. And I think it just happened. I didn’t even plan to write this story.

As a matter of fact, a week before writing this story, I wrote the beginning to another story about a wily cowboyish sheriff that is investigating a domestic dispute. (Of course the couple were aliens and the story took place on some colony planet). Still, I was planning on writing that story, and yet it fizzled and this one just popped into my brain.

Maybe I’ll get around to finishing that story one day…

5. I didn’t take very long on this story. This meets one of the goals that I set in place a while ago.

And considering the time that it took me to write this (about 4 hours honestly), that’s much shorter of a time period than I used to write most of my other stories. Plus this one was 1600 words long, which I feel is about the right length for short stories. (At least stories that are actually going to get read on the internet.)

Wait a second. If this story took me 4 hours to type, edit, and mix, then that works out to 6.6 words per minute. Oh boy…

Well, I guess I’m not considering thinking time…

I am a thinker…

Still, that’s not a lot of writing in such an amount of time. I would like to shave this down further.

6. Humor. I guess it was there, but I wasn’t trying to bash you over the head with it.

I wasn’t trying to write a “funny” story for one. I was just trying to write something, and some parts just lent themselves to being funny. I’m not sure if that’s an improvement or not, but that’s how I feel at least. I think I tried focusing on the story, but still had my opportunities to show humor.

So, yeah, there you go. I actually got something good done. I feel better about myself now. I feel – stronger – kind of.

Well, more experienced at least.

I’m always looking for tips and advice, so if you’ve got it, feel free to drop a comment here after you read and review my short story.

Thanks,

D.A.

Moving Ahead

July 10, 2011

Thunk.

Julian’s bloodshot eyes suddenly opened. He turned to see that his alarm clock read 6:32 a.m., much too early to start a day. He lay half-naked in his bed clinging to his childhood Batman blanket. Sleep was still in his eyes and the sun was just barely peaking through his broken blinds.

Three hours of sleep wasn’t going to be enough to get through today.

Julian Sanders wondered what had woken him. Did he hear something? He threw off the old tatter of a blanket sat upright in bed. After some hard blinking and rubbing of his eyes, he turned and placed his feet on the bare wooden floor. He kept his breathing shallow as he tried to listen for another sound.

After some time of waiting, and nothing happening, he assumed it was safe.  Julian contemplated not getting out of bed. Maybe he could lay back down a get another few hours of rest.

Thunk.

The sound seemed to come from his living room.

Did somebody break in?

He didn’t have anything of value, except maybe his pitiful DVD collection. And what kind of burgler would work at six in the morning?

“Nah,” thought Julian. “Nobody in their right mind would be up this early.”

Maybe it was his neighbors in the apartment above had dropped something on the floor. Julian contemplated going up there and complaining. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Now he heard muffled voices. But these were definitely coming from his living room.

Julian’s mind raced and he had to stop himself from panicking.

Somebody was out there.

He knew he had to see what was going on, he had to do something. Julian glided his way toward his closet. He didn’t think to reach for pants, or a phone, but instead grabbed his Louisville Slugger.

“I’m not going out there with nothing.” he thought to himself. The plan that formed in his mind involved a lot of bravado and yelling. While he may not be a very loud and aggressive man he expected the bat would do most of the work for him.

“Okay, Julian, just stay cool. Just walk out there and get ready for anything that comes at you. Remember, you’re the boss.” Julian’s conscious spoke to him. “These punks probably don’t even expect me to be home. So, I’ll just go out there and demand they leave. They’ll be out of here in a split second.”

He took a few deep breaths and convinced himself that he was brave. Julian kicked open his bedroom door and stepped out to confront whoever was out there.

He expected to see one or two guys wearing black ski masks and carrying crowbars. Maybe they would be carrying sacks with all of his things stuffed inside. They were probably tip-toeing around as well.

Instead, he opened the door and saw two rather normal looking men in uniforms. There were a lot of open cardboard boxes scattered around the room, some of which contained his possessions.

There was also a large opening in his wall that emanated a green glow of light. These men did not seemed alarmed by the unnatural object whatsoever nor the half naked man facing them armed only with a baseball bat.

The men in the yellow and blue one piece work-suits continued onward, moving boxes to the middle of his living room, and carrying on normal conversation.  

Who- who do you think you are?” Julian managed to squawk out. He had wished his words sounded more menacing.

The men finally took notice of him.

“Oh. Hi there.” said one man casually. “Did you not get the notice? We were told you had gotten notified of your departure.” said the man with blonde hair that was holding Julian’s table lamp. His voice was bright and cheery.

This was discomforting for Julian this early in the morning.

“What notice?” cracked Julian’s voice.

“I guess not.” replied a mustached moving man now walking in through the portal. The bill of his yellow hat was bent in the middle, causing it to look like a cartoon duck bill. He grabbed a box and walked back into the doorway, leaving Julian behind, dumbstruck.

“Did he just walk through my wall?” Julian said. His eyes were locked on the green passageway.

“Yeah, now I know you didn’t read the letter of notice.” said the friendly looking blonde. “You’re moving. Today. And you’re also coming with us.”

“Did that guy just – walk – through -my wall?” Julian repeated with obvious discomfort.

“Yeah, if you would have read the notice you wouldn’t be so concerned right now.” said the kindly man.

After a few seconds of incomprehension Julian allowed a small dribble of drool fall out of his mouth. He had just seen a man walk in and out through a solid wall. It might have been very early for Julian, but he knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Taking notice of Julian’s confusion the blonde man set down the lamp and slowly approached with open hands.

“Okay bud, just take a seat.” He guided Julian by the shoulders to sit on a box full of his unimpressive DVD collection. “Don’t flip a lid. Breathe. Just. Breathe.” The man’s voice was soothing. “Here, drink some water.” he handed him a nearby bottle of water.

Julian wiped the drool from his face with the back of his hand and began to drink. His eyes were still locked on the odd opening in the wall.

The moving man extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Frank. That’s Grant. We work for a moving company – of sorts.”

“I- I don’t understand.” said Julian. His eyes finally broke away from the portal and met those of Frank’s.

“Of sorts?” Julian asked. ” There’s a hole in my wall. I don’t know many moving men that put glowing holes in your house.”

“Oh, no, that’s not a hole per se. That’s what we in the business like to call a ‘Dimential Rift Membrane.’ Most other folks just call it a ‘rift’ for short.”

Grant walked back into the room and tried to explain what he could. “We work for a company that relocates those who have been displaced by the Korring Effect. That’s when people from one dimension end up in another by accident. Our records show that you were moved here, and we’re here to bring you back.”

This guy wasn’t making any sense. Julian thought of the possible explanations of his current state of mind. Maybe he was hallucinating. After all, he did order take out from a very questionable restaurant last night. Perhaps he was still sleeping and a gas leak is causing him to have a trippy dream. Still, everything felt so uncomfortable it had to be real.

After a few awkward seconds Grant spoke again.

“Hey buddy, can you get up? I need to take that box next.”

Julian decided now was as good of a time as any to stand up and fight these guys. He was determined that he wasn’t just going to get robbed, or moved, or evicted without a fight.

“Get  away from my stuff!” he leap up from his box and held his bat in a swinging position. “I’ll hit you so hard your mustache will fly back to where it came from.” Julian didn’t think too hard about his insult, but he figured that if he said it loud enough, they would stop what they were doing.

“Mr. Sanders, just stay calm. We will explain everything but you just need to calm down.” said Frank.

“How about I don’t calm down and you explain everything, or I make that hat become part of your skull.” Now his threat felt a little more convincing.

“You live in a dimension that is not your own. You were moved here when you were young, you just don’t remember. Our company checked your records and decided that it was time you came back to your original dimension. You were slated to move today. It’s not a big deal. It happens all the time.” explained Frank. His voice had a casual tone.

“How can you just “move” me to some other place. I live here. This apartment is my home. I don’t want to crawl through some hole and end up who-knows-where.” he complained. He searched for something else. “Plus, that thing will probably give me cancer or something!”

“No, you don’t understand.” said the man with the mustache. “We move people through, what you might call, ‘wormholes’ to other dimensions. It’s totally safe technology, just this dimension hasn’t discovered it’s wide spread use yet.”

“So, you mean this is like, some Stephen Hawking stuff?” Julian managed.

“We don’t know who that is, but if it makes you calm down, then yes. Yes it is.” said Frank cooly. “Just put down the bat and we’ll get this process started.”

After a few moments, Julian calmed down enough to have a seat. Frank pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

“This is a copy of the notice you were supposed to have read. Read it and then you’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.” said Frank as he handed the paper to Julian.

It took a few minutes, but Julian read every word.

After another few minutes, Julian stopped crying.

He was placed in the wrong dimension. Something called the Korring Effect causes rips in time and space that mixes things up.

Maybe this is why he always felt alone in this world. Maybe this is why he never found it too easy to live in a world where people lived like this. He always felt out of place.

This could be his opportunity to start over; to fit in.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to – leave – I guess.”

Great!” said Frank. “Come with me. Grant here will take care of the rest of your stuff and I’ll just guide you through.”

“Okay. Just don’t break anything.” said Julian. He dropped his bat and figured Grant would take care of it.

They walked up to the gateway and looked into the green swirl that seemed so sophisticated and terrifying. The neon glow seemed to churn within. There was no sound, nor was there anything to identify inside. It looked like he was going to walk into a dense cloud.

“Now, just walk through. There’s a little step, so don’t fall.”

“Okay…”

Julian took a deep breath, and stepped into the green world that lay beyond.

He was trusting his life to these two men; men he had never met before today. Men with funny yellow hats. Men who were comfortable around the idea of a wormhole.

He wasn’t sure why, but he decided to close his eyes. Maybe it would make the decision less terrifying if he didn’t see what he was getting himself into.

Julian took one step and found nothing for his foot to land on.

He fell.

He decided in that moment to not open his eyes. He would prefer to not see how he died.

Sooner than expected, he hit the ground, face first, in a heap.

When he opened his eyes he saw Frank, heartily laughing, helping him up.

“I said don’t fall.” Frank chuckled.

“Sorry.” Julian squeaked.

“That’s alright. Now you know. Keep your eyes open next time.” Frank opened his arms wide and looked all around him. With a big smile he said. “Welcome to Plane #243 D, Alpha! Your new home.”

After looking around the building he was now inside, his breath was taken away. This was his new home.

Julian acted accordingly.

After another few minuets, he stopped crying and took his first steps as a new resident of Plane #243 D, Alpha; wherever that was.

“Hey, uh, Frank?” asked Julian.

“Yeah?” replied Frank.

“I think I need some pants.”