Good morning Ted and Jody:
The weather folks keep changing what is going to happen. Wednesday, they were crossing their fingers that we would have our first string of three dry days in this calendar year. Yesterday’s thunderstorms uncrossed their fingers. However, it did present some interesting cloud formations along with the thunderstorms.
I reported some time back that the Army Corps of Engineers had cleared the osprey nests on the Columbia River at the Western edge of the county. Despite threatening skies, Nancy and I drove out there yesterday and found the osprey did not comply with their eviction notice. I took a couple of quick shots and then got in the Ridgeline to stay dry and try to keep the rain off the lens. You can see more rain streaks in the shot of the male osprey.
The continual tragedy that is playing out on both ends of Pennsylvania Avenue in the District of Columbia is still touted at the east end in terms so grandiose as to be gagging. Yet, the gullible still seem to miss the point. The point being that trickle-down policies don’t work any better than trickle-down economics does.
I trust this finds you happy, healthy and thinking good thoughts despite the political news.
Warmest regards, Ed
015 A Subtle Difference
Fiction in 1030 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
Detective Philipson asked, no one in particular, “Do you see any differences between this corpse and the other five? For instance, this one is clothed; this one is not in rigor, and this one is seeping blood. Has our guy graduated to murder?” He looked around, turned around and scanned the faces of people in the vicinity. “No sign of Frank Millard?” He relaxed a bit. “Perhaps, we will get a break on his clothes,” pointing to the corpse, “a wallet or something telling us where he was before he appeared here?”
Captain Batan said, “I wish that Outreach Agent would finish making a beacon. I suspect Special Agent Fleishman would be of some help here. I think . . .”
But he was interrupted by crime scene Lieutenant Mathew Bohme asking him, “Are you finished? Can my guys get started?”
“Yes, go to it, but pay special attention to preserving any ting in that wound on the forehead. This time it looks like the corner will call it death by 2X2 to the forehead. I’d like to know what that 2×2 is composed of.” Replied Captain Batan. He turned to Detective Philipson, “A guy gets hit by the mob and they toss his body, but they always leave clues, some thread we can pull. A guy falls dead in the street, and they always have a back path to trace. A woman gets mugged and there is at least a description of a perp, usually male and big, but something. In these six cases no threads to pull, no clues, no paths, not even a vague description. Some days are bad and then there is today.”
Detective Philipson said, “You know, Captain, we . . .”
Again, Lieutenant Mathew Bohme interrupted, “Excuse me but we have found something interesting.”
“We know about the note, it is sticking out of his pocket, I can predict what it says,” replied Captain Batan.
“No, not that,” said Lieutenant Bohme. “There is a piece of what can best be described as ice in the wound. More properly the back corner of the wound is frozen and the frozen section appears to be expanding.”
“I’d say you need to get him to the coroner’s office on the double,” replied Captain Batan. Turning to Detective Philipson he asked, “What were you going to say. Eddie?”
“Probably a bad idea,” replied Detective Philipson. “But, we could have a press conference and let the world in on our little mystery.
Captain Batan laughed, swung his arm to indicate the whole area and said, “We have had a utility tent up for four days blocking a whole lane of traffic. We sat on the scene with a squad car. The crime scene unit shows up here as if it were their regular beat and you think the news doesn’t know?”
“The reporters work only with what they know and speculate about,” replied Detective Philipson. “Why don’t we give them everything and let them work it out. Some of them are fairly bright.”
When the man entered his laboratory,
Thomas Aldrich Edison, asked him, “What is your name sir?”
“Walter Seams, at your service,” the man replied. “I know you are Thomas Aldrich Edison, for your reputation proceeds you. However, the lady is unknown to me.”
“Amanda White, Mr. Seams, I am with ATI.”
Mr. Seams vanished.
Tomas Aldrich Edison looked puzzled. “People don’t do that unless the come in contact with my frozen human essence”
“Just met your third, time traveler, Mr. Edison,” replied Amanda White, “Wilbur Seams, now Walter Seams and finally me. I knew of Wilber Seams but didn’t know for sure that his older brother Walter had been injected.”
“What do you mean injected?” asked Thomas Aldrich Edison.
Amanda looked surprised. “I was sure you knew that time travel was done by implants that are injected and they form a structure in the brains of the recipients that allow them to move in 11-doimensional space. Indeed, the lab is currently trying to come up with a formula for 12 dimensions so we can move between universes as well.”
“No, is this published someplace?” asked Thomas Aldrich Edison.
“I’m afraid not,” replied Amanda White. “But I assumed a man of your stature would have a way to find these things out. You can go through training while you sleep and then go to ATI and get a trial injection.”
“Trial?” asked Thomas Aldrich Edison. “Why a trial?”
“Some people,’ replied Amanda White, “have some, err, shall we say, interesting side effects and so it is best if they have some time to heal after an implant. If it were permanent, they would not have the time.”
Doing his utter best no to show his excitement, Thomas Aldrich Edison began to put his Lazarus prototype away and stopped suddenly. “There is a piece missing off the end. A little piece of the corner. This has never happened before.” He got down on his hands and knees and put his hand in a drop of blood. “Blood, this has never happened before either. I wonder if the temperature of a live person cause the frozen human essence to break?”
Amanda White got down on her knees and started looking for the piece too. Thomas Aldrich Edison said, “You better not touch it, as you are alive. You need special gloves that are insulated like these,” holding up his hand, “or you will disappear as well.”
Amanda White stood up and said, “You mean if I touch the bar, I will disappear?”
As she reached her hand toward it Thomas Aldrich Edison yelled “DON’T TOUCH THAT”
She did and immediately vanished.
Lieutenant Mathew Bohme looked up
and said, “Who are you and what are you doing in my crime scene.”
Amanda White asked, “Is Captain Batan or Detective Philips about? They can explain me better than I can.
“No, they just left for headquarters,” replied Lieutenant Mathew Bohme.
“That is a pity,” replied Amanda White. “You wouldn’t mind turning your back while I make and adjustment, would you?
Being a polite, well-bred man, Lieutenant Mathew Bohme, turned his back and Amanda White pivoted.
Looking back around he yelled, “Sergeant, keep people out of here.”