Guidelines

Page 4

The Nokes Household Handbook

As a resident of the Nokes Household you will find that we may have unexpected and sometimes unwanted guests in our abode.  These wayward travelers who find their way into the premises will be addressed according to the Guidelines set forth below.  Please present a list of these Guidelines to each guest either written and/or verbally upon their arrival, or detection. 

As a private residence we have the sole right to evict and/or terminate any guest’s stay or life at our own discretion.  We fully understand that as a guest you may not have been aware of your surroundings until you found yourself inside the premises and that will be taken under consideration at the time of your arrival or detection. 

The terms of these conditions are as follows:

I)                   Crickets/ Order: Orthoptera

As a beloved member of the night time community, and a good luck charm for most Asian societies, your stay at the Nokes Household is a welcomed one under the following conditions:

1)      That you remain quiet.   If you are found to be noisy between the hours of 10:00 p.m. through 7:00 a.m. you will be evicted. 

2)      If during your eviction you become spastic and/or uncooperative you will be terminated.

II)                Rollie Pollies, a.k.a Pill Bug / Order: Isopoda

As a member of the crustacean family, and a presumed descendent from the Ovdovican and/or Silurain period, your stay is not necessarily unwelcome, but if detected your eviction and/or incarceration may be determined upon the following conditions:

1)      If you are detected within a ‘one room’ distance from an exit you will be evicted.

2)      If you are detected outside a ‘one room’ distance from an exit you risk the following:

a)      Incarceration, until such time you are turned over to the State, in care of the Department of Waste Management.  The Department has the sole decision on your parole or termination.

b)      Eviction by the Department of Waste Management, Water and Sewage Division.  This may or may not lead to your termination; it is unknown at this time the outcome of said eviction.

III)             Ants/ Order: Hymenoptera

As a respected member of the insect society and your ability to work as a unit and build a working community your stay is not necessarily unwelcome under the following conditions:

1)      You come alone.  If you bring any other members of your society with you, you will all be terminated.

IV)             Moths / Order: Lepidoptera  (and any relatives such as Butterflies)

You are beautiful and welcome, but your stay may not be a wise one as you open yourselves up to the following:

1)      Eviction, due to annoying any household member;

2)      Eviction due to landing on and/or crawling into any body part of said household members;

3)      Detection by any quadrupedal member of the household may lead to your termination.

V)                Fly / Order: Diptera

You are unwelcome.  Your stay is not permitted under any circumstances.  If you choose to disobey these Guidelines you risk termination as follows:

1)      Termination by any means necessary, i.e. newspaper, shoe, book, swatter, etc.

2)      Termination by aforementioned quadrupedal members of the household.

VI)             Gnat / Order: Diptera, Suborder: Nematocera

You are unwelcome.  Your stay is not permitted under any circumstances.  If you choose to disobey these Guidelines you will be terminated.

VII)          Spider / Order: Araneae

As a member of the insect society that preys on other insects, you are welcome under the following conditions:

1)      You are not poisonous; if you are found to be poisonous you will be terminated and traps will be set out to thwart any future family members from trying to come into the premises.

2)      You are the size of a nickel and/or smaller. 

a)      If you meet the above requirement in condition 2, you must meet condition 1 as well, and not be spastic and/or sneaky.  If you are found not to meet either of these conditions you will be terminated. 

b)      You are not allowed to traverse the premises via the ceiling.  If you are found to not meet condition 1, 2 or subsection b you will be terminated.

3)      You are attractive.  If you are found to be creepy in any way you will be terminated.

VIII)       Popping Beetles / Order: Unknown

You are unwelcome due to your strangeness and annoying popping sound.  You will be terminated.

IX)             Granddaddy Long-Legs a.k.a Harvester / Family: Pholcidae, Suborder: Araneomorphae

Since several members of this household have once occupied a farm and/or rural premises, you are respected and welcomed.  Unfortunately due to your delicate nature you will be quietly and carefully evicted from the premises.     

Guests that warrant instant termination:

There is no eviction, Guidelines will not be discussed or disclosed, and any household member may and will terminate you on site. 

Fleas / Order: Siphonaptera

Roaches / Order: Dictyoptera

Bed bugs a.k.a Cimicidae / Order: Hemiptera

Slugs a.k.a Gastropod Mollusc / Order: Pulmonata and all sub orders

The appearance and/or detection of any of the aforementioned will result in an extensive and massive termination of all guests, including welcome guests, of more than four legs.

If you are a welcomed guest and see one of these intruders please alert your nearest spider and/or household member to save you from your own termination.

Said household members hold the specific right to determine a guest’s stay and may evict and/or terminate without questions asked.  If you feel you have been wrongly adjudged, please see your local insect community leader and file a formal complaint.  Each complaint will be considered and dealt with accordingly.  Of course if you are terminated your next of kin may also file a formal complaint. 

If you understand these conditions set forth by this set of Guidelines please sign, nibble and/or somehow leave your mark below and enjoy your stay at the Nokes Household. 

M.L.

Invisible

A short story by M.L. Nokes

It was a dark and stormy night….

            No, not really, but isn’t that how tales are started?  It actually was a normal, average day in the middle of August, I believe, when she first realized that she could be invisible.  But let me start a little further back, my name is Tucker and I would like to tell you a story of my friend Leann. 

            I met her years ago; she was tall with broad shoulders that she got from her father, long limbs and a longer gait, bright grey eyes and a loud boisterous laugh, which she also got from her father.   Most everyone that met her became her instant friend, although I would find out over the years that her friends were in layers, like the many rings of a tree’s life.  There were those that circled by once a year for the holidays with cards or an occasional chance meeting, a few rings closer in were the ones she perhaps knew many years prior but as the years ticked by their relationship grew as thin as their memories, just outside the inner circle were those of us who hovered waiting for that final step, but the truly lucky ones, less than a handful, were within the inner circle, I was not one of them. 

            Life was not easy for Leann, it wasn’t terrible either.  In the grand scheme of life she had, on average, more of the bigger downs, but she was blessed by many ups as well, just not so many of the bigger ups.  Looking back I think perhaps they could not counteract the size of the downs, but she balanced it, or so it seemed. 

            As the years went by and she and I became closer friends, even though she kept her distance, she would confide in me things that I would only assume should be meant for the most inner of circle friends, and I felt honored that she thought so much of me, or maybe I should have been sadden because she thought so little. 

            She told me of the time that she discovered that she could be invisible.  I laughed, I thought that she was being funny, we had only just been talking about if we had super powers what would we want to be, and then she tossed out her power of invisibility.  She just laid it right out there on the table, as though it was something as jovial as “I am going to the dentist on Thursday.”  And that is when she told me of the times leading up to that average, normal day in the middle of August, and I will tell you the same now.

            She said she noticed it as the weeks and months past, probably like a year or more.  She would go to parties with a friend or two and other than talking with her friend; she would be ignored by all the other patrons.  At first she thought that this was because of her actions, perhaps she was being shy or anxious because of the strange and unfamiliar surroundings.  She had always heard that “you get back what you put out”, so perhaps she was putting out a “don’t bother me vibe, I bite.”  So she tried to be more personable.  Laughing, with her boisterous laugh, at others jokes, sitting closer, including herself in conversations, but it didn’t work.  She was still ignored. 

            As the days went by she started to notice that even while doing mundane things like standing in line at the post office she would be over looked when the clerk would call out for the next customer.  Stepping forward she would be ran into by the person behind her as he or she would step up to the counter never noticing that she was there.  There would be the normal “Excuse me, pardon me, I didn’t see you there.” comments, which she passed off as busy people in a busy world. 

            She would be grocery shopping, following her list, perusing the aisles for the items that she needed, when she would come up on a group of people talking.  Politely she would stand there patiently waiting for them to notice her and excuse themselves out of the way, but they never would.  Their children on the other hand always noticed her.  She would inevitably be forced to turn around and take another direction.  I would come to find out that all children noticed her, as well as animals.  You know they say that children and animals have a sixth sense that we adults loose as we grow older, perhaps they could still see her.  I don’t know that’s something that crossed my mind just now.  

            One could say that she was just not forceful, perhaps she was meek.  But even without opening her mouth she was imposing.  Standing in a crowd, one would think she would be noticed with her almost six foot frame.  Even the meekest person, if tall enough or broad enough would be noticed, or so one would think.

            Her closest inner circle friend advised her that her being unnoticed, at least at the grocery store, was probably due to her tearing through the store like the Wicked Witch of the West, with theme song included.  So, Leann decided to make eye contact, smile, and nod, even say “Hello” as she passed other customers.  Nothing, not even a smile. 

            “Am I that unattractive that people are repulsed by me?” she actually thought at some point.  I told her that she was not unattractive, quite the contrary and that perhaps people were intimidated by her!  She laughed.  She claimed that I, like her friends and family, were looking at her through “love goggles” and we didn’t see the true her.  She began to think that her life had jaded her, faded her.  I tried my best to assure her that she was wrong.  But that thought stuck with her and I think that is what stirred this power to full fruition.  She began to think she was unworthy, her days became more work and home and less life and living. 

            On that fateful, average, normal, middle of August day she went to the same grocery store she had been to for years upon years.  She followed the same path, the same list and pulled down the same items she always had.  While in the cereal aisle something got into her eye, a lash or dust, but she claimed it felt like a branch, so she rubbed and rubbed until tears began to well but the log would not wash out.  She needed a mirror. 

            Quickly she made her way down the cereal aisle only to be stopped in her tracks by the Mother Clutch, the group of two or three women huddled together with their carts, in the middle of the aisle laughing and swapping stories of children or recipes or husband woes.  None of the women noticed her, but every child, from infant to around five all looked at her and smiled.  She smiled down at the babies and winked at the children and waited patiently for one of the women to glance her direction.  Nothing. 

            She turned and went around the opposite way and hurried down the always empty baking aisle, across the promenade, and into the infant section headed for the sunglasses aisles.  As she turned the end cap of the diaper aisle she almost ran into a young mother with her small child who was close to a year old.  She stopped abruptly, mumbled an apology and proceeded to go around her.  The young mother, engrossed in styles and sizes of diapers, never looked up or even glanced.  Her child however did, the small blonde girl, petite and porcelain skinned with giant green eyes; grinned and reached out with her chubby Cheerio crusted fingers and pointed at Leann as she passed.  The young mother, seeing her daughter’s movement looked over and followed her point, for a split second, as Leann glanced over her shoulder back at the two of them, their eyes met, but it was like the young woman was looking past her, or through her.  Leann smiled and nodded; the young mother cooed something to her daughter and turned back to the mountain of diapers never acknowledging that anything transpired.

            Leann made it to the wall of sunglasses looking frantically for one of those small, almost useless, warped mirrors that the stores have there for you to try to see what you would look like with their sunglasses on, only to not really be able to see anything but about three inches of your face.  Tears had started to pour from the tree sticking in to her eye and she was desperate to see what it was and remove the foul evil entity. 

            She found one near the end.  Pushing her almost full shopping cart along with her, she reached up, taking her hands off the handle to adjust the tiny sunglass mirror, thinking it was too high or too low, and she caught a glimpse of her purse in the basket with her scribbled grocery list laying catawampus on the top of her purse.  She turned the mirror up and down, left and right, and that was when she realized, although she could see the cart, her purse, and her groceries, even her grocery list and all that surrounded her in the store, she wasn’t in the mirror. 

M.L.

Blocked

Writer’s Block:   When an author loses the ability to produce new work. 

I haven’t written in 3 weeks, this is going on the fourth, or maybe the fifth, I have lost track of time in general.  This is Monday right?

Do I have writer’s block?  I don’t know, I could, but I don’t think so as I am still thinking of things, still jotting down notes of scenarios and character ideas.  Is that writer’s block?

If not, then what is wrong with me? 

Could it be that life is just too much right now?  Sounds like a lame excuse, everyone has heavy things going on in their lives, does this happen to other writers?    

I am of the idea that I don’t have actual writer’s block, because I don’t think it’s a lack of ability to write, like I said, technically I am still writing.  I think it is my lack of focus, (on everything, including dishes – Sunday I started them, walked into another room to get something, then completely forgot that I was doing the dishes in the first place) (P.S. I was not being forced at gun point to do the dishes, I simply wanted to make spinach dip and I needed a bowl.)

I can focus on it for short bursts, a few minutes of several jotted notes on scrap paper versus typing furiously on a lap top for hours and hours at a time.  Does that constitute a block? 

When I come home at night, all I want to do is veg out in front of the television and not think about anything, not about the heavy things, the stressful things, the worrisome things.  I want to be numbed by entertainment.  Is that still blockage?

Is this a normal thing for writers?  When I started this whole writing thing I went at it at break neck speed, writing every night and on weekends.  Pumping out two books, almost finishing a third and starting two more, all in just a few months time.  Did I burn the candle too much and now I am left with only a snub of melted wax and a stubby ashy wick?   Perhaps I need to invest in a lot more paraffin and a much longer wick.  Maybe a nice lavender scent would be calming. 

Or perhaps this is not any type of block at all.  Perhaps I am just too much in my own head.  I have been known to dwell there sometimes, and I have gotten lost before.  It can be a very Wonderland of activity in there at times.  Sometimes I am less Alice and more the Hatter. 

Or am I just a normal person?  Wouldn’t that be a twist in the plot that is my life? 

M.L.

Forever After

Other than horror movies, books or shows, the only other type of stories that I truly love are fairy tales.

From the Brothers Grimm and their tales of Goldie Locks or the old school Disney movies of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, to the more recent ones in the past like Ever After and A Knight’s Tale, right up to the newest ones like The Princess and the Frog and Tangled. 

I love the story, the trials, the tragedy, the triumph; even dare I say it, the romance.  I suppose it’s the hopeless or hapless romantic in me that wishes for the long awaited Prince to swoop in and rescue me from my high tower or the story of life’s woes summed up in a tragedy of lost children who defeat the evil witch bent on stirring them into cookie batter. 

I suppose that is why I live in a foggy world of trudging through daily tasks while my mind wonders and drifts through story lines or life scenarios while I get groceries or drive to work. (Luckily for my fellow drivers on the road I can multitask and am still actually paying attention to the road, even though most every time I have no recollection of the drive to where I was going.) 

Some would say that might make me idealistic and they might be right.   But I believe that I am neither optimistic nor pessimistic, although I can sway between them.  I am more of a conundrum, an enigma, as I truly hope and pray for the best but worry constantly about the worst.  I play out scenarios in my head of what is going on in my life and when they do not fit into the jewel encrusted glass slipper, because of unknown factors and things out of my control, (which is 99% of the time), my mind begins to swirl and dash like the tea cups.   

But I never stop hoping.  I think that because I do want the fairy tale ending that it makes me a dreamer and I believe that having a dream – even an unrealistic one – keeps a person innocent to a certain degree.  Innocent in that they believe that they are a princess or a frog and will find true love in a kiss or be rescued by the hunter from the big bad wolf and that life, no matter how full of monsters or moats can end happily ever after. 

M.L.