Not Quite, quite There.

No matter how hard I try to submit a story of 'not quite there' and 'the posthumous author'...the stories just do not seem to be getting any more alluring or interesting than when I first abandoned them.

Truth be told, they seen to be getting worse by the minute. Then I went and read a few top stories in the categories and that hammered a few nails in the coffins of my feeble attempts at eloquent and purpose filled oratory.

Ok. I give up. Ready or not.....

Here is a story I once wrote for a 'futuristic' challenge.

Anthropomorphic - The Perceptive Divine. Part 1

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you". Maya Angelou.

Becoming Amorphia! Chapter 1

The Present

As Asha stood there mulling the state of the world above ground, she failed to see the alien craft hovering above her head. Too late she heard the gentle whirring of the machine and found herself being lifted into the sky. In vain she struggled to fall back unto the ground, but to no avail. She rose higher and higher, too far to fall without being broken or killed.

The Past

Once, my name had been Asha. I had been happy then, with doting parents who loved me unconditionally. I remember the beautiful garden beyond our house where lilacs, roses and chrysanthemums bloomed. Mother tended them herself. I remember the open spaces by the lake where we had lovely picnics or went sailing on a peaceful sunny day. We had been filled with laughter then.

Then they came, the Anthropomorphics, non-human beings in human form and my life changed forever.

Ancient mythologies frequently represented the divine as deities with human forms and qualities. They resemble human beings not only in appearance and personality; but they exhibited many human behaviors that were used to explain natural phenomena, creation, and historical events. The deities fell in love, married, had children, fought battles, wielded weapons, and rode horses and chariots. They feasted on special foods, and sometimes required sacrifices of victuals, beverage, and sacred objects made by human beings. Some anthropomorphic deities represented specific human concepts, such as love, war, fertility, beauty, or the seasons. They exhibited human qualities such as beauty, wisdom, and power, and sometimes human weaknesses such as greed, hatred, jealousy, and uncontrollable anger. Greek deities such as Zeus and Apollo often were depicted in human form exhibiting both commendable and despicable human traits. Anthropomorphism in this case, is more specifically, anthropotheism (the doctrine that the gods originated as human beings or are essentially human in their nature).

Ten years ago, Earth was visited by a race of anthropomorphic beings known as the Lluminars. These beings were tall and graceful, with features that combined the elegance of humans and the mystique of both AI and mystical creatures. They had radiating skin that glowed softly in the dark and eyes that sparkled like stars.

The Lluminars had accidentally landed on earth in a quest to find an answer to their dying planet. Their world had come under attack by an evil and cruel force which threatened their way of life.

Once, not so long ago, harmony and balance were the core principles of their Lluminary society. They had advanced technology that allowed them to live in perfect symbiosis with nature. But when they arrived on Earth, they were shocked to see the planet suffering from pollution, conflict, and division. Yet, they had no choice but to seek a new life on Earth, fearing that time was running out for their people back on Lluminar.

Determined to survive, the Lluminar used their technology to begin a transformation process. They started with the ones who were willing, those who saw the beauty and wisdom in the Lluminar’s way of life. These humans were transformed into beings like the Lluminar, gaining their physical attributes and their deep connection to nature.

As more people witnessed the positive changes in those who had transformed, they too chose to undergo the process. The transformation was not just physical; it also brought about a profound change in consciousness. The new Lluminar-humans found themselves more empathetic, more connected to each other, and more in tune with the natural world.

Over time, the transformation spread across the globe. Cities were redesigned to be in harmony with the environment, and conflicts were resolved through understanding and cooperation. The Earth began to heal, its skies clearing and its waters purifying.

The Lluminar had not just changed mankind into their kind; they had helped humanity rediscover its own potential for greatness. Together, the original Lluminar and the new Lluminar-humans built a world where technology and nature coexisted in perfect harmony, and where the light of the Lluminar shone brightly in every heart.

A shrine had been erected in dedication to the new saviors of Earth.

The inscription read

The Lluminar’s Gift

In twilight’s gentle, glowing hue, the Lluminara came to renew.

From cities gray to forests green, a transformation, bright, serene.

The willing hearts embraced the change, in harmony, their lives arranged.

A unity with Earth and sky, a bond that time could not deny.

Empathy in every heart... The Lluminar’s light shone within, a new era would begin.

A future built on love and grace, a shining transformation for the human race.

~~~~~~

Asha's family had been one of those which resisted the change. They never trusted another race to force their ways upon them. And so was born the Resistance, the outworld faction who went underground, undetected by the Lluminars.

Far below their humble home was a network of tunnels and shelters which Adwan, Asha's father had spent his every spare time working on. His had been a vision of a world both above and below ground. It was as if he had anticipated the coming of such an entity as the Lluminar. His underground world was self-sustaining, with water and food grown and harvested from natural sources.

They had survived undetected for the years following the invasion of the new species. Until the day that Asha grew bored and wandered upside on her own.

.........

The Present.

Asha was shocked at what she was seeing. There were signs everywhere, some legible, some half broken, declaring the lies of their so-called saviors. Civil war had broken out, Asha read. The Lluminars had kept their word for a while, but their true intent had finally been unearthed. The world was broken and in chaos, rubble was strewn everywhere, even their home had been vandalized.

The Lluminar had planned the annihilation of the human race. It had all been a ruse and a lie to win the hearts of people, then exterminate them when they least expected it.

~~~~~

As the alien craft lifted her, Asha found herself inside the belly of the strange beast of a machine. She felt herself being prodded forward by an anthropo-human with a deadly looking weaponized dog. She had just turned 17...her last thoughts were of her parents and the agony that she would cause them, her rebellious nature and unwillingness to stay inside had been her undoing.

She felt a sudden prick behind her ear and everything went black.

When Asha awakened, she was no longer Asha. She had been, against her will, been transformed into the likeness of her nemesis, the Lluminar. She had been reborn as Amorphia, warrior of the Lluminar.

Amorphia opened her eyes to see Luanda staring intently down at her.

The two were destined to fight side by side to thwart the plans of the Lluminars.

Chapter 2 - Coming soon.

Amorphia and Luanda

I fear they have been waiting for the continuation of their story for two years or more.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The Author's story about the Unfinished story.

This was written for another 'futuristic' challenge which I don't quite remember.

I know that the story makes some kind of sense to me... I should be excited to fight for humanity...living vicariously through my two strong female characters. I see the potential to develop the plot...

I am fascinated by the unusual. The idea of gods or alien beings coming to earth and changing us into hybrids of themselves, thus making us immortals...my dream of having powers would finally come to pass. I could fly. They would immortalize my Six Million Dollar Woman steel heart, fix me up brand new again.

But really, deep down, I feel that I am more of a poet at heart...not a storyteller - and If I attempt stories, they will be short, because I also fear that I have the attention span of a a six year old. Ideas lead to ideas, and I tend to veer off into the realm where these ideas lead, mostly into scrolling from story to story to jot down my ideas...Ergo, unfinished symphonies of words.

....

Well, as you may have guessed...Chapter two has not gotten itself written as yet. I fear that this story too, has gone the way of many that came before it and is awaiting a conclusion.

I have sixty-two pages of 'finished' and unfinished stories still in progress in draft on Vocal.

I have partially written compilations of ideas for books and poetry still awaiting their day in the sunshine of publication. Yet, I keep procrastinating. For so many different reasons...All which may seem like just excuses to the published brave ones amidst us.

First...I do not think that these works measure up to the title of greatness or even acceptable-ness, something that people would actually want to read. Even though I have come to realize that the ones I believe are no good are usually the ones people become enamoured with.

Second...I keep skipping from one story to the next, hoping that 'this one will be better', someone will actually want to read it...but somehow all of the drafts just seem like another trifling attempt at writing a cohesive and interesting narrative. They all lay sleeping.

Third, etc...I think that my natural instinct to hold back my true thoughts really hurt my potential for better and more realistic drama in my work...a great flaw in writing, I think. I feel that maybe my stories lack substance because I hide behind the Impasto painted landscapes of myself, too many deep brushstrokes applied so thickly that sometimes I feel invisible and not worth my salt in writing.

Should I run with the wind and let my stories soar free. Let the chips fall where they will.

.......

Maybe if I remember my roots...Begin my story from the beginning......For first I need to write my true self in order to set my spirit self free.

📚

I now realize that if I incorporate that freedom and wildness into my stories...I will never doubt myself again. At least not quite so much.

I will finally write all of my Chapter two's and beyond..

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Sigh!