The Lure of Dark Gully – Visual Fiction

 

Dark Gully

The Lure of Dark Gully

Stay away from Dark Gully, when the wind is rising in banshee shrieks and tearing at rocks and trees like a vengeful demon of the night.

Stay away when you hear the small coaxing voice come through the maelstrom, telling you to come closer; telling you there is shelter from the storm in the narrow knife-slash in the cliff face.

Flee when you see the faint glow dancing on the tips of the waves, moving slowly to the shore to rest on the storm-slick rocks.

Flee when the tiny glowing balls of mesmerizing ether begin to coalesce into a form that rises out of the surf and takes a step onto the shore.

Despair when the figure holds out its hand and you take a staggering step towards it, all warnings and common sense blown away by the gale.

Despair as your foot steps into the stinging, foam-flecked wave and you are led, unresisting, out to the place where waves pound and rocks break and life is sucked away like a match tossed into the dark abyss of space.

So when the wind rises in the east; when the waves begin their tramping march up the rocks of the beach; when the sky darkens in an ominous light, stay away.


Life Under the Generator – Paint Doodles

The first thing I hear in the morning is the pervading hum of the massive ether generator above my house. I go up onto the roof and gaze up into the mass of wires, like the mad weaving of some colossal steel spider. The collector ring, the focal nodes, the arc needles: each piece fits together perfectly. There are a million parts going in all directions, each one exactly where it needs to be.

Multiple Dimensions doodle

The sun sets and the sky darkens. Above me, the wires start to reveal their faint glow, which was overwhelmed in the light of the sun. There are twinkles and flashes of every color imaginable. I lie back and stare up at the man-made galaxy above with me with its celestial host of linear stars.

Ether Generator - Inverted


Midnight Call – Friday Fictioneers

The third story in the Peregrine series. Hopefully it can also be a standalone story as well for those who haven’t read the first two. Still, here are the first two: Peregrine’s Bar, Clue 43.

copyright Danny Bowman

copyright Danny Bowman

Midnight Call

The payphone with no mouthpiece was a neighborhood joke, which was why Albert was surprised to see a man lift the earpiece and put quarters in it.

“Hey buddy, that’s busted!” Albert took another swig of Thunderbird and staggered closer. The man listened to the earpiece a moment, then slammed it down.

“What’d you hear in there?”

The man spun around, his face contorted with rage. “You wanna know? Really?”

Swig. Nod.

“I’m running around the world blind while my daughter is kidnapped somewhere. Satisfied?”

“How much they want for her?”

“Nothing. She’s special. Drink up.” The man walked away.




Chinese Food: Korean Style

If there is one food that is all over the world, it’s Chinese food. For most people, it’s not hard to believe that the food they eat at a Chinese buffet is not exactly what Chinese people eat every day at home, but what people don’t always realize is that Chinese food is not the same in every country. There were Chinese foods in Canada that I have never seen in the US and I have heard of differences in other countries as well.

However, nowhere (in my experience) is Chinese food as different as in Korea. I have heard that what is considered Chinese food in Korea comes from the northeast of China, but it is quite unique (except for fried rice: everywhere has fried rice). Here are the main dishes you see at Korean Chinese restaurants.

Jajangmyeon

Jajangmyeon (자장면): Jajangmyeon is kind of the go-to Korean Chinese food. It is noodles in a black soybean-based gravy. It doesn’t have a strong flavor, but it’s very good. There is also jajangbap, which is the same, but with rice instead of noodles.

 

jjambbong

Jjambbong (짬뽕): This is the other main Chinese food here. Jjambbong means something like “hodge podge” so it’s a mixture of many things. As you can see by the color, it is very spicy. Jjambbong consists of noodles and various types of seafood such as squid, mussels, sea cucumber, and if you get the expensive stuff, a lot more. It also has a lot of onions in it.

 

tangsooyook

Tangsooyook (탕수육): This is fried pork (or beef, if you want the really expensive stuff) served with a sweet and sour sauce. In some ways it is similar to sweet and sour pork in North America, although (in my opinion) it’s a ton better and also is a lot more expensive. A small serving is about $15 and a large is $20 or more. Of course, a small serving is enough for 2-3 people. This is one of those dishes that only comes in group sizes. Koreans almost always eat out together and so a lot of their food is geared towards groups (I have been turned away from restaurants for being alone, since they had nothing on the menu for only one person). This is one of my favorite Korean Chinese foods.

japchae

Japchae (잡채): This is the final mainstay of Korean Chinese food: japchae. This is perhaps a little more familiar looking. It is rice noodles mixed with meat and vegetables. It’s usually pretty mild, although some places make it really spicy.

Here’s what it looks like when you get it delivered:

chinese korean delivery

This is a meal that my wife and I ordered last November when we wanted to splurge. She got the fried rice and I got the jjambbong (lower right). The three-section dish in the lower center is a constant with Korean Chinese food: yellow pickled radishes (which are Korean, originally from Japan), black soybean paste, and raw onion pieces (not pictured, because my wife eats them immediately).

The tansooyook is in the middle, with a big bowl of its sauce. And as if that’s not enough food, they also threw in an order of mandoo, or dumplings, (upper right) for free. Because Korea is all about the free stuff.

They give you wooden chopsticks, but real spoons and real dishes. You eat and when you’re finished, you put them outside your door and the delivery boy comes and gets them later. I’m very glad this system works here, since using real dishes is so much nicer than styrofoam or paper.

I have grown very fond of Korean Chinese food but the problem is, that once I leave Korea, it will be very hard to find. It’s not Korean food, so you can’t find it in most Korean restaurants outside of Korea. And it’s not normal Chinese food, so Chinese restaurants don’t have any of it. There are restaurants in Korean districts, such as in New York or LA that have it, so I’ll have to make a trip to a city every now and then to get it. If you’re near a Korean district, I’d recommend seeking it out.


Decide Your Quest – The Mystery of the Missing Amulet

I’ve decided to write a Choose Your Own Adventure-eque story, but since Choose Your Own Adventure is copyrighted, I won’t be using that phrase ever again. So, welcome to my Decide Your Quest series. And you, as the reader, will get to vote on what will happen at the end of every episode.

Another feature of this story is that you will never die, no matter how mind-blowingly certain it seems. This is because in a normal . . . story of this kind, you die about a third of the time and have to go back and choose another path. This makes it feel like the writer is pushing you in a certain direction. Not the case here. Every option is viable. So, without further ado, here is The Mystery of the Missing Amulet.

 amulet

The Mystery of the Missing Amulet

The auctioneer’s voice drones on and on from the front of the room. Everyone’s eyes are stuck to him, like your tongue to that frozen light pole that one time when you were six.

Not your eyes though. You’re only here because the lieutenant made you come and guard the treasures that are being auctioned off. You yawn and flip the safety of your pistol on and off. You wonder how far you could pull the trigger before the gun goes off, but decide not to try.

“I’m glad we have a big, strong man in uniform here to make sure we are well protected,” you hear a feminine voice say right behind you. You turn to see a gorgeous woman in a red dress, which is slit up the side of her leg. It’s also slit along the shoulder. And the back. It kind of looks like it was recently in a knife fight. The woman bats her eyes at you in an overt way. Everything about her seems to sparkle.

“Are there terrorists around, because you’re a bombshell,” you say. The woman laughs. Huh. First time that line’s ever worked.

“This was my late grandfather’s collection,” she says. “We thought we should sell it off, what with the curse and all. By the way, my name is Brittany Fiona Rattleshack IX.” It sounds like a fake name, but at the moment, you don’t care.

“I’m sorry, can you text me our GPS coordinates?” you say. “Because I just got lost in your eyes.” Brittany laughs again. Booyah! Two for two.

“So where are you staying?” she asks.

“I’m staying upstairs, in the hotel,” you say, raising your hand and pointing to the ceiling.

“I have $150,000 for this beautiful Egyptian amulet, from the uniformed gentleman in the back,” the auctioneer says.

Oh crap! He thought you were bidding. What do you do?


The Modern Troll – Visual Fiction

I took this picture on a rafting trip I did last Friday. It was a perfect day for it. I’ll have to share more pictures later.

taken in Bongdong, Korea

taken in Bongdong, Korea

Call me a traditionalist. Others of my kind have moved on to more modern types of employment: collection agents, airport security screeners, marketing executives. Some have made a name for themselves commenting on Youtube videos. Not me though. I’m stuck here under this bridge, trying to make an honest living scaring people into giving me tolls.

They never stop nowadays though, roaring past in their cars and trucks at a million miles an hour. My first day on the job, I jumped out and tried to scare one into stopping.

It was a tractor trailer. I was in the hospital for a month. Thank God for the restorative properties of pixie dust.

I still try to keep up appearances. Every now and then I can get some pocket money from a kid on a bike, but even they have credit cards more often than not and I don’t mess around with plastic.

It’s just getting harder, you know?


Home at Last – Fantastic Travelogue #19

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

Synopsis: I was hiking in the mountains of Korea when I found myself in another world. I met a young woman there named Ain-Mai. We eventually got captured, along with her brother Sing-ga, by a sorceress named Hengfel, who took us to her world. We got away from her and hid in the air tunnels of her fortress. Sing-ga died after being attacked by small spider-like creatures. Ain-Mai and I came in contact with a woman named Klista, who explained to us that she was part of the royal family of a race that used to own the tower where Hengfel was now living, but had been driven into exile by the invaders. She agreed to help us and with her followers, went with us back into the tower to find the key to get back to Ain-Mai’s world, and then to mine. There was a battle with Hengfel’s dragons, but we defeated them and used the stone circle to go back to Ain-Mai’s world.

19 Home at Last

Home at Last

We will standing once more on the stone circle in the forest clearing where I had first met Ain-Mai. It had only been about a week before, but it seemed like months. It was early evening and the clearing was deserted, which was just as well. Anyone who had seen us appear—especially Chirik in his current blood-soaked condition—would have been scared out of their senses.

Is this your world?” Klista asked, and Ain-Mai nodded. “This is the only way for those such as Hengfel to come here, and I will take it with me and destroy it.” She held up the medallion. “When we leave, I would suggest you destroy this stone circle.

There are servants of Hengfel that are still here,” Ain-Mai said. “They will try to stop us.

They are now stranded here with no help from their own world. They will not be too hard to deal with, I think.

I gave Ain-Mai a hug, not knowing the proper etiquette in her world. “I won’t forget you,” I said. “I am sorry for everything you went through.

She kissed my hand. “Thank you again for saving me, in the room with the dragons and the cages,” she said. “I will remember you always.” She took off the bracelet that allowed us to talk and gave it to Klista, Then, with a final bow, she turned and walked away into the trees.

“Now I will bring you home and I can get back to more important matters,” Klista said to me in English. I said good-bye to Chirik and Bruce, and to the weird ghilzhi creature too, since he was there. Then Klista touched me on the shoulder and the world went black.

A moment later, there were trees all around, very much like in Ain-Mai’s world, although there was something familiar in the scent of the plants.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“I don’t know; somewhere in your world,” Klista said. “I just brought you to the area of your world that was closest to that last one. It’s probably near where you left. Will you be okay from here?” I nodded. “So,” she continued, “are you going to tell people about this?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, although I was already mentally planning how I would write the story.

She smiled. “That’s okay; yours is a skeptical time. No one would believe you anyway.” She held up her hand in farewell and then disappeared in a small flash of light.

It’s odd how you can get used to living in fantastic circumstances. Now that I was back, the sheer banality of my life seemed to come crashing down on me and I felt a bit depressed. I had gotten my original clothes before I had left Klista’s mansion and now I changed back into them. All except the boots, one of which was wrecked beyond repair. I was on a path and I limped slowly down it until I came to a Buddhist temple. I was hoping to sit down for a bit and relax before asking where I was, but my appearance caused quite a stir.

“Are you the foreigner that has been missing in the mountains for over a week?” one of the monks asked me. Once they found that I was, they asked all kinds of questions, most of which I could not answer without sounding insane, such as “Where were you this whole time?” Still, they brought me in and gave me food and drink. A while later, the police came and asked me most of the same questions, plus more. It seems that the owner of the lodge where I had left my pack had reported me missing. I put off their questions as best as I could or gave such incoherent answers that they eventually gave up and attributed my condition to shock. They offered to drive me to the nearest city to buy more shoes and catch a bus back home.

Just as I was leaving the temple, I noticed that the base of the stupa in the main courtyard looked familiar. It was an old carved stone circle about a foot high. With a thrill of excitement, I realized it looked very much like the one in Ain-Mai’s world. I pointed it out to the senior monk who was walking with us.

“That is very old,” he said. “It comes from before this temple was built. Why do you ask?”

“I think I have seen one like it before,” I said.

“Ah, then you are fortunate,” he said with a strange smile and bowed deeply. I left not knowing what to make of it.

Three hours later, I was sitting at a bus terminal, wearing new shoes in the biggest size they could find, which were still horribly tight on me, and thinking about my life: my normal, day-to-day life. I missed my wife and wanted to get home to her as soon as I could. She had sobbed when I called to tell her I was okay, something very uncharacteristic for her. I wanted to be there, to be able to put my arms around her and comfort her.

I needed to go home—wanted to too, of course, but still, part of me wanted to be back there. Back where I could flit to another world on a stone circle, where there was uncommon dangers and I had rescued a girl from dragons, even if I had paid for it later with pain and injury. No one might believe my story, but I know the truth of it, and I knew that it had changed me.

The End


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