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The Contradictite

The Collected Writings of Jacob P. Silvia.

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Cephalostate, Chapter 5

Eyes in the Dark The restaurant was a quaint affair with orange walls mimicking adobe clay. Carlos ordered for everyone, speaking Spanish to the waiter. While waiting for the food, John lifted a glass of water to his mouth. “Señor,” said Carlos gravely, “don’t drink the water.” John has a surprised look, holding the glass to his lips. “I’m only kidding.” The others began to laugh at John’s expense. He too began to laugh, sipping his water. He set the glass on the table, shaking his head at Carlos. They passed the time spent waiting for their food by talking with each other. They learned a lot about Carlos and his family during that one evening. The food itself was a new experience for John and Martha, who had rarely eaten anything made outside of their kitchen in quite some time. Granted, they had eaten Mexican food in the past, though it was Americanized. This stuff was pure. This was true Mexican food. Everyone ordered different things, but they all shared

Cabbages and Kings

[Author's Note: This story has been released to the Public Domain under the CC0 license. The full version may be read here .] "The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings." Lewis Carroll, "The Walrus and the Carpenter" Gladwell once wrote: Cabbages and Kings To G.G. Thanks for helping me write this. But: Things were not right with the universe. Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Cabbages and Kings, Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was an author named Günter Godric. He specialized in writing speculative fiction, but took special enjoyment in reinterpreting fairy tales through a science fiction lense. His most recent tale took the concept of Diamonds and Toads, and added a space element to it. Diamonds and Toads in one of its many forms, tells the story of three young sisters, two of them vain and wicked, the third pure and noble, and their evil stepmother. The older sisters took advantage of all opportunities that would come their way, while the youngest sister was long-suffering, humble, and took her lot in life with grace and humility, taking no more than her share. Günter, on the particular evening in which we join him, sat on a stool in a bar. In his hand was an imported beer, and at his side was a ragged old man who was much less partial about his drink. Günter’s face was flush, and his speech slurred. Though the bar was mostly empty, he still spoke to the old man beside him as if

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Cephalostate, Chapter 5

Eyes in the Dark The restaurant was a quaint affair with orange walls mimicking adobe clay. Carlos ordered for everyone, speaking Spanish to the waiter. While waiting for the food, John lifted a glass of water to his mouth. “Señor,” said Carlos gravely, “don’t drink the water.” John has a surprised look, holding the glass to his lips. “I’m only kidding.” The others began to laugh at John’s expense. He too began to laugh, sipping his water. He set the glass on the table, shaking his head at Carlos. They passed the time spent waiting for their food by talking with each other. They learned a lot about Carlos and his family during that one evening. The food itself was a new experience for John and Martha, who had rarely eaten anything made outside of their kitchen in quite some time. Granted, they had eaten Mexican food in the past, though it was Americanized. This stuff was pure. This was true Mexican food. Everyone ordered different things, but they all shared

Cabbages and Kings

[Author's Note: This story has been released to the Public Domain under the CC0 license. The full version may be read here .] "The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings." Lewis Carroll, "The Walrus and the Carpenter" Gladwell once wrote: Cabbages and Kings To G.G. Thanks for helping me write this. But: Things were not right with the universe. Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Cabbages and Kings, Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was an author named Günter Godric. He specialized in writing speculative fiction, but took special enjoyment in reinterpreting fairy tales through a science fiction lense. His most recent tale took the concept of Diamonds and Toads, and added a space element to it. Diamonds and Toads in one of its many forms, tells the story of three young sisters, two of them vain and wicked, the third pure and noble, and their evil stepmother. The older sisters took advantage of all opportunities that would come their way, while the youngest sister was long-suffering, humble, and took her lot in life with grace and humility, taking no more than her share. Günter, on the particular evening in which we join him, sat on a stool in a bar. In his hand was an imported beer, and at his side was a ragged old man who was much less partial about his drink. Günter’s face was flush, and his speech slurred. Though the bar was mostly empty, he still spoke to the old man beside him as if

Cephalostate

[Author's Note: This was my first real attempt at NaNoWriMo. However, whether it was the subject material or my university workload at the time, I was unable to complete it. It could be that the idea is itself cursed, as when I tried to write it again in 2012, I failed once more.] Chapters Phoenix From the Ashes Hatchling Allergies Forgery Eyes in the Dark And that's all...

The Life Bird

[Author's Note: This story was written for the Geauga Park District's 23rd Annual Nature Writing Contest. It received second place.] Melody drove. Jack sat beside her, polishing the lenses of his antique binoculars. He squinted while he did so, feeling for the lens caps after he had finished each lens. The binoculars smelled like dust and oiled leather. “Dad,” she said after an uncomfortable silence. “I’m worried about you. I think it’s time you moved in with Doug and I.” He said nothing. “I just want what’s best for you,” she said. After a moment, he said, “I can take care of myself.” She sighed. “I know you can, Dad,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to. We have the space. You can have your own bachelor pad.” She nudged him on the shoulder with her fist. He looked down at his binoculars. He wiggled his wedding band with his thumb. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Fine,” she said. They were making progress. “What are you hoping to see today?” Jack took a

Dandelion Junction

[Author's Note: This was my submission for the Geauga Park District's 26th Annual Nature Writing Contest . It received Honorable Mention.] The strangest place I’ve ever seen a dandelion grow is out from between two bricks in a wall. At one time, a mud wasp must have built a nest in the groove, and a dandelion seed must have landed there, taken up root, and started to grow. And there it was when I found it, yellow face to the sun, ready to take on the world as if to say: “I’m in a weird place right now, but I really want to live!” We call them “dandelions,” a word which we get from the French, which means “lion’s tooth,” named after the fact that the leaves have coarse teeth, much like its namesake. Other common names include blowball , priest’s-crown , doon-head-clock , witch’s gowan , and cankerwort . Scientists refer to the entire genus as Taraxacum , a word we get from Arabic, meaning “bitter herb.” If you’re at all familiar with Passover, there is a practice during which yo

Cephalostate, Chapter 1

Phoenix From the Ashes In the depths of space, a giant alien thrashed her legs. Pouring into the cold vacuum, her blood formed tiny spheres as it rushed from her wound. She had been injured. This much was true. Placing a claw to her wound, trying to stop the flow, she realized it was futile for her. She would have to find a safe locale. She would have to find a safe harbor to lay her egg. Her life was over, but a new life still had a chance. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a blue/green planet. It was inviting, and not too far away. She would be able to make it if she tried. Moving her array of limbs, she flew closer to the planet. Soon she felt the pull of the world surround her. She eased back on her accelerating, allowing gravity to do the work. Looking at the largely proportioned moon associated with this planet, she saw a large glob of her blood eclipse this satellite. This was her last bit of blood. She was going to die soon. Her dying regret was that the egg ha

Hands

The right hand says to the left "What are you doing?" "Nothing," it replies.

Alias Becky

Jordan Stiles sat in the chair, overlooking the central chamber of the space station Mastock. He made a few remarks with his pen upon his notebook. Setting down the pen, he spoke into a nearby recorder. “I am speaking with the creatures known as BEK-102, alias Becky. Today, we are going to discuss the creature’s past.” He flipped on the intercom leading into the central chamber. “Good morning, Becky. How are you this fine day?” A voice, sounding like many voices, ranging from male to female, young to old, connected to detached, human to animal: “I am doing well, Doctor Stiles. And yourself?” Jordan looked at the giant eye staring back at him through the glass. “I am doing well. Nothing to speak of.” “It is good that you are doing well.” Jordan made a few notes. “Becky, in our last conversation, you mentioned that you were a Demon. Would you please elaborate on this?” “In my world, Doctor Stiles, there are creatures slanted towards good and creatures slanted towards evil. Th

Living Building

[Author's Note: This was written for the fourth and final week of the /r/Fantasy NaNoWriMo Short Fiction Writing Contest in 2017. This one won, but I blame that on the fact that week four was underplayed. The theme was buildings that are alive.] The tower slept. It pulsated in the moonlight, snoring and swaying in the darkness. I grabbed onto the lowest jutting brick and began my ascent. The wind blew, and I clutched to my hold as I climbed. I dared not use a spike for fear of waking the tower. I climbed and clung for hours. My hands were ragged and raw, my arms burned and ached. Halfway up the side, a flock of pigeons flew by. I lost my grip on corner, and only by grabbing the window ledge was I spared from one last leap. I took a few breaths before bringing my other hand up. After a short break dangling there, I resumed my climb. At the top, I pulled myself over the ledge. I did my best to clean the grit and stone from my bloody hands, wiping them with a stinging alcohol cl