Drabble: "Is Reproduction Romantic?"


Is Reproduction Romantic?

by Chris Hugh


"Isn't it romantic? Soon we'll have a fresh crop of little ones!"

Kendrick snorted and looked at the line of citizens behind them. "Reality TV and soap operas have infected every corner of the galaxy, haven't they? There's nothing the least bit romantic about reproduction."

"But we have to increase our population."

"Of course," Kendrick agreed. He looked forward. "Your turn."

When it his turn came, six-foot-four Kendrick slid into the reproduction chamber. After a decent interval, Ken and Rick, both three-feet-two inches long, slid out. They nodded primly and went their separate ways.
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Drabble: New Moan: A Twilight Parody

New Moan: A Twilight Parody

By Christina Hugh



"I don't know," Bella said. "I mean, we're so different."

"You've dated vampires and werewolves," the 3000-year-old Egyptian mummy replied. "What's wrong with me?"

"Well, aren't our religions different?"

The mummy stood wrapped in thought. Then he stretched out his arms and put his hands on her shoulders. "I worship the Sun God, Ra."

"Really?" Bella brightened. "I worship the Son of God too. Rah! Cool, we're both Mormons!" Bella bit her lip. "But I thought you were Muslim."

The mummy moaned. "No, Bella," he said. "I'm not Muslim. I'm wrapped in muslin."

Bella chuckled. They went to a movie. Pin It Now!

Victorian vs. Flapper Posture

As a followup to the Posture article, here are some more pictures. If you use Google Images, you can find occassional pictures of Victorian women slouching and Flappers standing straight, especially when you look at family pictures. However, the art and illustrations of the era show the ideals from thos eras, so that's what I've included here. Click here to read the original article "I'll Tell You What is Causing Pain for Almost Everyone in the Western World."
Victorian Era - examples of upright posture


jules bastien-lepage: portrait of sarah bernhardt




Flapper fashions



Judge magazine 1927
Happy Arbor Day!
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The Legend of Blondhilda Story VI: Evil Appliances and the Three Fridges of Fate

Evil Appliances and the Three Fridges of Fate

by Chris Hugh



"Fire!" someone shouted and the word echoed in Oroka's sleeping mind.

Not fire, she thought in her dream. Darkness. Suffocation. All her precautions had failed her, just as she knew they would. She groaned in her sleep. The dream was terrifyingly real: she was stuffed in a refrigerator, like so many female comic heroines before her. She'd known this would be her destiny the moment she lost her powers. That was the day she stopped being a Manga Magical Girlfriend and became a Disposable Romantic Interest.

"Fire!" the voice cried again. Oroka's dream shifted. Was she at the gun range? She spent hours there every week, honing her skills in a hopeless effort to escape her fate. Or did she have heartburn? All the takeout meals took their toll. She hadn't set foot in the kitchen, not once since she and her boyfriend moved to the United States.

Something landed on the bed next to Oroka and broke the dream. She smiled in her sleep. It was Mr. Kitten, her magical cat. Then she frowned as she began to wake up. No, it couldn't be. Taikutsu had insisted they leave the cat behind in Japan. Now he worked as a robotics scientist on a top-secret project, and she spent her days alone, trying to survive.
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Exercise: Blondhilda and Hello Sailor Disagree

The writing assignment was: write a story about two characters who are faced with the same challenge and who have different approaches to responding to it. I called on my characters of Blondhilda and Hello Sailor, and here it is.
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Blondhilda and Hello Sailor Disagree



"The injustice of it!" Blondhilda cried. "I cannot abide it!" She stood up from the recliner and shook out her sheet of pale golden hair. A glowing light suffused the room and she held her sword high.

"Stop, Blondhilda," Hello Sailor said, hopping up from her own recliner. An inexplicable breeze tossed back her hair and ruffled her miniskirt. "We cannot directly interfere with the affairs of mortals. We must let them find their own way."
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