What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Miss Luna's Genie by Teri

Miss Luna's Genie by Teri

A story for Llola to read
-- Episode 2 in "A Month of Lunar Crazies"

They call me crazy, but I know I'm not. They call me violent, but I am only doing my Mistress' bidding. They call me evil, and on this I might agree, for I will do what is required of me, regardless of any morality. I serve my Lady, in all Her glory, for She is the only truth I have ever known.

The Muslims worship Allah, and they find comfort in their faith. The Buddists meditate to seek enlightenment as did the Buddha. The Christians, the Jews, the Jain, the Hindu, each believes in something. But, all believe in nothing, for that is what are their gods when placed beside my Mistress. No faith, no belief, no spirituality can equal the glory of Miss Luna. My Mistress is real and I need only look up into the sky to know this. She is not fiction, nor do I require faith, for only obedience is necessary in the service of my Love.

This day I am to join Her. I am to end my life and perish so that I am free from my mortal flesh. I will help others also find this destiny. I will set them free in multitudes. It will be easy with the help of the tiniest of allies. It takes but a few molecular bonds breaking to begin the process of fission. A couple of atoms will split and release the energies trapped within their shells. Then, this energy will be passed to another few atoms and they too will split creating yet more energy. And soon, the world will become engulfed in light and heat as the energies grow exponentially. It's not magic, but to those who do not understand, it might seem so.

They used to store nuclear weapons in Canada. There was a bunker, on Vancouver Island, in a place called Comox, where Genie nuclear blivets were stored for use on NORAD interceptors. The Voodoos would take off with a load of destruction strapped to their fuselage, ready to repel the evil Soviet hordes in their Bear and Bison bombers. Such simple weapons for a simpler time, when our enemies all wore red to hide their blood.

I wish I was red. I am actually a pale shade of blue, my blood pooling around my weakened heart and failing to transport the oxygen my cells, my organs, my body, needs to survive. It does not matter, because I will be gone soon. Perhaps it would be nice to be pink, like a simmering steak on a grill. Maybe frying to death in a nuclear inferno is the nearest to being a steak I will get. I wish I could eat steak, or potatoes, or anything for that matter. I have survived on Boost and crushed vitamin pills for so long; my body yearns for solid food. But I must be strong and do as She commands. I must starve and grow strong for Her.

They counted those blivets when they returned them to the United States. They counted them twice. They counted them three times. They counted a steel case filled with just enough atomic waste to register properly on their geiger counters. Did you know that there is a dump in Chalk River where they bury atomic waste? There's an irradiated teddy bear there, from when a researcher accidentally contaminated his house. It is so easy to dig up just enough to make an empty casing seem like a real weapon. They never reported that they had lost one. Can you imagine the headlines, "Canadian Military Loses Nuke." They had to have known it was just a fake when they were returned and disassembled to be "decommissioned." Yet, no reports were issued, no obvious search made. I know where that missing Genie was kept for all these years -- right below that irradiated teddy bear in the nuclear waste dump.

Today I will use my toy. I dug it up a few months ago, before the winter frosts came and made the digging hard. I put it in a U-Haul van, for it's really not that big or heavy, and I drove it home. This afternoon, the Buffalo Bills will play the Denver Broncos in the Rogers Skydome. It will be filled to capacity - maybe 60 or so thousand to be helped to my Goddess' bosom. There is a major convention just across the tracks at the convention centre where the Canadian Medical Association holds their annual meeting. We could do with a few less doctors in the world and Luna will embrace their souls.

I put the device in a dumpster, near the CN Tower. There is no possibility that the tower will survive the blast. It should be a pretty little fireworks show. I will watch from the top of the tower, where I will see the fireball rising to meet me and where I will be engulfed in its warmth before I strike the ground.

I have a radio control to set it off, so I can be an active participant in this glory. There is a timer in case the remote fails. A switch will active the warhead if the dumpster moves more than a few centimeters. I put a big stack of scrap metal over the top of my precious, and if that metal is moved, a light sensor will trigger the destruction. Finally, there is a last trigger behind the disarming plate so any ordnance disposal team, should they still remember how to disarm the device, will detonate it for my Mistress.

I have decided to activate my gift to Her when the kicker's foot strikes the ball in the opening kickoff. I am safely in my perch on the main observation level, looking down through the glass floor. I can see the dumpster. Mistress Luna is above me, smiling with pure delight. I will be coming soon my love, just a few more seconds and I will be in your arms, I will be there soon, please wait for me. I see the teams line up. I take out a cell phone from my pocket. I just need to call a number to activate the device via a phone attached to the trigger.

I begin to dial. 9.0.5. A pause. 7.3.6. ........7.3.6. and I wait, with only one last digit to enter. The kicker begins to move. I watch him close on the ball, his leg swings forward ...


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