Episode 12: My Friend Edith

Synchro

One outstretched arm resting against the architrave supported him as he puffed. Air rushed in and out of his lungs. Rivulets of sweat trickled down the middle of his back and down the centre of his chest. Patches of sweat spread on his singlet. He knocked rapidly on the door.
Come on Edith where are you?
The door slowly opened.
“Yes?” The eyes belonging to the deep voice inspected Sync. The straight face and down-turned mouth matched the sad eyes.
“Is Edith there?” Sync began to breath normally.
“No, she isn’t,” the man answered dully. “Sadly she had a heart attack last night and is in intensive care. She’s not expected to recover,” he said bluntly.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I live next door. Synchro Reed,” he said extending his right hand.
“David Buchanan,” he said clasping the offered hand. “I’m Edith’s son. There’s an envelope on the table with your name on it. Just a moment.” He disappeared along the hall and returned with envelope in hand.
“I called in to see her the day before yesterday. She seemed fine. What happened?”
“She felt unwell and phoned me to come over. When I got here she was unconscious. The ambulance came quickly.” David’s bottom lip quivered.
“Is it okay if I go to see her?”
David nodded. He couldn’t hold back the tears.
“You’d better hurry.”

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

My Bio: http://write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html

Episode 11: A Change of Mind

Before today's episode I'd like to show you my writing bio.
The link is at the bottom of the episode.

Now, on with today's installment!

Synchro

It was there but not. Sync stared long and hard. The young man ignored him going about toy retrieval duty. Sync saw a feint white light around the young man. He appeared to be in a bubble of white light. A list of details about him ran through Sync’s mind, like a radio on low volume. The information was everything there was to know about the young man. The date he was born, his partner and children’s names, his job, his income, his hobbies, his date of death, everything. Sync’s heart raced. His skin prickled cold and sweaty. He didn’t want to know the personal details of strangers or anyone for that matter. It was none of his business.
He took off at top speed heading for home.
Zig zagging his way back through the streets he passed a woman with a child. He glanced at them. A bubble of white light surrounded them both. Information poured into his mind. She was in early stage pregnancy, though it wasn’t yet visible with a baby bump, and her grandmother was going to die on the 21st of June. The little boy was going to be a commercial pilot and live to be 97 years-old.
Sync looked away and kept running.
An elderly gent walking with a metal walking-stick came towards him. The old man grinned from ear to ear. A white bubble surrounded him. He was 81 and had this morning successfully had sex with his 59 year old wife. The first time since his heart attack five months earlier.
Sync shielded his eyes so he couldn’t see the man. The information kept coming.
Red faced he ran faster than ever before.
He didn’t want to do this.
He had to stop it, turn it off.
How could he shut it down?
His mind screamed,
“E-e-e-d-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-th!”

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

My Bio: http//:write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html

Episode 10: No, No, No!

Synchro

Balancing his day job with his extra-psychical brain-work was exhausting. Three months of ‘practice’ and nothing unusual had happened except brain drain. He was getting bored with it all and tired. He slept so soundly every night he was late leaving for work. He didn’t like hurrying to work. It unsettled his entire day.
At the start of the fourth month his sleep pattern changed. He bounced out of bed each morning full of energy. It lasted throughout the day. His twilight runs extended to double his usual distance. His body felt acutely aware of everything around him. His skin felt the dry atmosphere and sent a detailed evaluation to his brain. It was the same every day no matter what the weather. Sync felt atmospheric variations and deep inside him he sensed change was about to engulf him. He could handle physical changes but this consciousness change was unnerving. The thought excited him and terrified him.

It was the last day of the week. The weekend loomed. He slammed the front door of his flat behind him and started running. He passed people here and there and at first didn’t notice what he saw. Concentrating on his feet as he crossed at the corner where he avoided a series of pot-holes he paused letting a car go by. Off he went zigzagging through back streets racing himself. The air fiddled with his hair, the aroma of dinners cooking in houses he passed tantalised his nose. He stopped briefly, jogging on the spot as he turned around to re-trace his steps. A young man on his front lawn nodded as he picked up children’s toys.
Sync nodded back and watched for a moment. Oh, God! His brain ran in fast-forward. The puffing from his run stopped abruptly. He stood motionless and stared.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 9: Decision Made.

Synchro

“I’ll do it,” he announced after he settled on Edith’s lounge-room couch. Oddly she made no discernable acknowledgement. He thought the old girl would gloat because she won. “How do I go about it?”
Edith took her time. She looked at him as if she was seeing something that no-one else had privy too. It wasn’t exactly staring. It was more like an appraisal of something Sync wasn’t aware he had. She’d done it many times before. It was creepy. She seemed to sense his discomfort and began speaking.
“You’ve been blocking it for a long time, since you were a child. You need practice and lots of it. Practice making your mind go blank.”
“How do I do that?”
“Start doing it as you drift off to sleep each night. See in your mind a blank slate, a clean page, a TV with the power turned off or something else you can relate to. First thing in the morning as you rouse out of sleep before your day begins, do it again.”
Her instructions went on and on.
His head was spinning as she walked him to the front door. On the top step Sync turned back to her.
“When will this perfect woman come into my life?”
She shook her head.
“Impatience won’t help,” she smiled. “You’ll know the first time you see her.”
Edith closed the door.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 8: Is it in the Family?

Synchro

“Hey Sis.” Synchro held the phone to his ear. “Um, do you believe in psychic stuff?”
The first thing he decided to do was test Edith’s words.
“As a matter of fact, yes I do,” said Mesh. “Why do you ask?”
“Edith was telling me about that stuff and reckons it runs in families, sometimes.” He wasn’t handling this at all well.
“You mean you’re psychic?”
“Not sure. Just wondering if you or Con were into it.”
“I do have intuitive moments. I don’t know about Con,” she added.
“What about Mum and Dad?”
“I don’t think so. But did you know that Grandma Reed read tea leaves and apparently was very accurate?” A pause lengthened. “Sync? Are you there?”
Edith was right. Maybe she’s right about everything.
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s one of the reasons that he would have nothing to do with her.”
“In that case better not tell them about this conversation.”
“OK.”
Sync walked in circles around his kitchenette running his hands through his hair. His mind re-ran his options. Stay a lonely woman loser and not have the burden of dealing with unwanted psychic stuff or let his unwanted psychic side emerge and find his life partner.
Something in his brain said, ‘Stop beating around the bush and bloody well decide.’
He slammed the front door behind him and marched to Edith’s place.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 7: Thinking Time

Synchro

It had been a long day. The TV blared in his little flat. He didn’t hear it. He lay on the couch staring at the dark ceiling. He’d turned off the lights. The glow from the TV screen grew and shrank in the room depending on the scene. Five girlfriends in five years must be some kind of record. He didn’t count the casual dates. Judy lasted the longest, a whole six months. It wasn’t as if he’d grabbed the first woman who walked passed. He’d been selective and chosen interesting lively women to become close to. They apparently thought he was ok at least at the start.
The pattern suggested Edith may be right. If so, doing what she suggested was creepy, like her. She was nice creepy. Asking Mesh and Conrod if they are psychic could be embarrassing. They would think he was nuts. And his parents, he didn’t want to go there. He could resign himself to living alone for the rest of his life. Nah, he liked female company. He so badly wanted a permanent relationship. He didn’t feel complete and he knew what he needed to achieve completion.
Cool midnight air surrounded his heavy body. The touch button on the remote flicked off the TV. He pulled one of the throw pillows from behind his head and held it to his chest. His eyelids drooped. He’d make a decision in the morning. His head would be clear then and he’d know his decision would be the right one.
He hoped.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 6: Apprehension Plus

Today's episode is over 400 words, a bit longer than usual. It needed to be as it gets into the nitty gritty of the plot.

Synchro

She was patient with him.
“You know things Synchro Reed and refuse to acknowledge what you know. As a result you’re unable to find your life partner. She’s waiting in the wings though she doesn’t know it. As soon as you accept your ability and begin using it she’ll find you and you’ll have great happiness.” She spooned tea-leaves into the teapot and poured in boiling water. Sync didn’t understand why she always covered the teapot with that washed-up tea-stained cosy while the tea brewed. It was thirty degrees in the shade. The tea wasn’t likely to cool before she got to pour it. Must be habit.
“And this ‘ability’ of mine is?”
“You have one of the greatest gifts of all. You can look at a person, anyone and know everything about them, right from the day they were born to the day they’ll die.” She poured their tea into her favourite tea cups with matching saucers. She carefully placed one drink in front of Sync. He spooned sugar from the old crystal sugar bowl into his tea, stirred and sipped. He was oddly comforted with Edith’s old fashioned tea ritual.
“The thought of doing that scares the crap out of me.” His skin prickled with goosebumps.
“You get used to being different. Most people will never know you’re doing it,” Edith added trying to put his mind at ease.
“What about my parents? They already think I’m strange because I have no interest in cars or motors. And my brother and sister, what if they find out. Hey aren’t twins supposed to know what each other is thinking?”
“When was the last time you talked to Mesh about her intuition?” said the old lady.
“Never.”
Edith raised her eyebrows.
“You mean she can already do this stuff?”
Edith flashed a knowing half smile.
“And your brother?”
“Conrod keeps to himself a lot.”
“Ever wondered why?” The old lady gently placed her cup on its saucer.
Sync’s jaw dropped.
“Of all your family you’re the slowest off the mark in your evolutionary development. Your siblings are way ahead of you.”
“Oh,” was all he could manage.
Edith saw confusion, fear, surprise and apprehension cross his face. It was decision making time. She thought she knew which road he’d choose.
She’d have to wait and see if she was right.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 5: The Fact is...

Synchro

At home, showered and towel covered, he skulled a cold cola and wondered if The Creepy One was home. Better put clothes on before finding out.

He tapped on his neighbour’s door. A few minutes later the door slowly opened.
“Come in,” said the grey haired old lady.
He stepped past her and waited as she secured the door.
“You knew I’d call in didn’t you?” said Sync as he followed her to the kitchen. The hunched figure shuffled to a kitchen chair and sat opposite him.
“I don’t work like that, as I’ve told you many times. I only know what’s happening as it happens, not before,” she sighed. He’d been her neighbour for five years. She’d proved her, unusual, skill time and again yet he’d remained confused.
He looked deep into her pale blue eyes silently asking for yet another confirmation. She obliged.
“You stopped at traffic lights and were robbed. Then you saved a woman and her child from certain death, oh, and Judy gave you your marching orders.”
Sync looked down at his fingers resting on his lap.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked. “You’re a bit dry from the fire’s heat.”
“Thanks,” he nodded. “Tell me again Edith, how do I get out of this endless cycle of dating and being dropped?”
The old lady shuffled around the kitchen filling the electric kettle and preparing the teapot. Her eyes smiled.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 4: Read It From the Bottom Up!

If you'd like to know how today's episode got to where it is, read this page from the bottom upwards.
I'm not sure where the main character is headed, I just know he's got a lot to deal with in an unusual way.

Any comments would be greatly appreciated.

Synchro

He stood up holding the child and helped the mother to her feet. Both females were coughing. Sync was red faced trying to subdue the urge to cough. They hurried onto the street. Must have been bloody hot in the house. The street air cooled his skin. The midsummer day was sweat inducing when he entered the house. Now his armpits, in fact all over was burning dry.
The grandmother weeping with relief swept the child from Sync’s arms. Ambulance officers helped the mother and grandmother to their vehicle.
“You’d better come with us too,” said one to Sync. He looked down at his torn shirt and further to his blood spotted torn jeans.
“Looks bad but I’m fine.”
“Maybe so. We’d like to check you.”
Sync nodded vaguely and followed.
Oxygen masks were fixed over mouths and noses helping the smoke filled lungs to clear. Bottles of water were thrust into the hands of the three.
Emergency and rescue officers fixed hoses in position and doused the flames which leaped from the back of the house. Smoke billowed from under eaves and out windows. The old wood of ancient house was perfect fodder for hungry flames.
Sync gazed at the action around him.
Why did Judy drop him?

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 3: ...Continuing right along...

I've just realised these posts are listed with the most recent first. (Well duh!) Obviously my story will appear back to front. Does anyone know if I can reverse the presentation of posts?
If not 'Welcome to my serial in reverse.'

Sync

Smoke billowed out the top of the door. He took a deep breath, held it and bending low walked toward the screaming and crying. He quickly looked in each room as he passed the doorways. All clear there. The cries of distress changed to coughing. Thick smoke filled the top half of the room. Sync got down on hands and knees. The mother lay on the floor clutching the small child both coughing, gasping for oxygen.
“Give me her,” he shouted above the crackling roaring flames. She let go of the child and grabbed Sync’s t-shirt and pulled. It tore open from side to side. “Roll over, onto your knees. We have to crawl out.” The woman, though tiny, had a big baby bump. She struggled to her side. Sync grasped her clothes in the middle of her back and heaved. She was over.

Angry flames lashed the wall above the stove and across the ceiling. Spitting and popping sparks sprinkled the three as they crawled to the doorway. Scorching heat seared the floor under their hands, their skin, their breath. Sync held the child to his chest with one arm and crawled with the mother. They both passed through the doorway together. His knee found a nail-head sticking up from the board. It stung as it went in. He kept moving. His jeans caught on the nail and ripped down to the hem.

“Keep crawling,” he shouted. Smoke crowded the hall down to their backs. Near the front door he heard sirens and bells getting louder.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Click on tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

Episode 2: ... and there's more ...

And the name for my serial is:
(Drum roll please.)

Synchro

He showered stale smoke from his hair and body, and wrapped the towel around his hips. Torn t-shirt and jeans hung from his hand as he strolled to the rubbish bin.
Sync wanted to forget today. The clothes dropped in, he secured the bin lid.
It started out like any other day. Up early, a half hour run, breakfast and off to work. Then the world turned upside-down.

His mobile phone rang. It was Judy. She blasted him and told him to drop dead. She never wanted to see him again. He wasn’t sure why.
Then he stopped at traffic lights and two smart arse kids broke his passenger side window and stole his wallet. It had been on the seat. He was in shock from the phone call and not quick enough the grab the little mongrel.

Then the fire thing.

He drove down a side street and parked. He rang Judy. She didn’t answer. At the same time an old dear, waving her arms about, ran from the front door of the old weather-board house beside him.

“Fire! Fire in the kitchen,” she yelled in his broken window. “Please help. My daughter and grand-daughter are in there.”
Sync jumped out the car and raced to the front door.

Continued…

By Diane L Wood
Writer

Episode 1: Passing the first post...

Wha-hoo! Off and running.

Hi all.

I'm a writer and this is my serial spot.

I'll add to it everyday, just a paragragh or two,
and comment on anything else relevant to the moment.

Hope you enjoy my ramblings.

Episode 1

The Un-Titled Serial

Sync wasn't used to all the attention. He tried to move away from the group. The cameras and reporter moved with him.

"How does it feel to be a hero?" said the red head poking a microphone at his face.

He looked around checking she wasn't talking to someone else.

"Me?"

"You saved a baby and her pregnant mother from incineration. How does it feel?" she persisted.

"It's good they're ok," said Sync.

The police said he could go. They'd taken his details and he wanted to leave.

Firemen had extinguished the fire. Smoke clogged Sync's nostrils. Screams from mother and baby echoed in his ears. His body was heavy. His stomach growled. His torn clothes needed replacing. He turned and strode toward his car down the street.

"Our modest hero is welcome to park his car in my drive-way anytime he wants," he heard the red head tell her camera-man.

Sync flushed and kept walking.

If only they knew.


by Diane L Wood
Writer